Lately I’ve been thinking about stealth kinks: those things you didn’t even know you liked, and thought you probably hated, until you tried them. After which they entered your Pantheon of Favorite Fetishes.

sub lyn recently posted about how she started to enjoy one of my preferred predilections, the euphemistically-named “watersports“. (I hate most names for it. When I was 13 I first heard the phrase “golden shower” on a playground from some 14-year-old boys. I asked the most debauched peers I knew for a definition, which was not forthcoming. Finally a couple of liberated parents among our set disclosed the answer to a sleepover party full of curious girls, but added that in future, we should ask our own parents. Phwa–as if! Part of the fun was in figuring out what a naughty word meant via unsanctioned means.

“Watersports” also confused me when I first heard the term, years ago–I thought it meant waterpolo and synchronized swimming.)

* * *

Piss-play would not have been high on my list of desires when I met Robbie. Neither would spanking, nipple clamps, flogging, face-fucking, knife-play, or a variety of other things we do and love. Basically, the two of us knew we were into bondage from the get-go, and we got more gritty from there.

But I have had the benefit of other lovers in the past with some of their own kinks, and these I remember with fondness, knowing that although the same lures are not likely to crop up tomorrow with Robbie, they could be a part of future play. Tit-fucking, for instance–a favorite. Hand-jobs–not a favorite, but something I did adequately and now have, I fear, lost the knack for. And then a category of more unusual, one-off kinds of fetishry.

Packing my underwear last week to get ready to head to Robbie’s for the summer, I found a beautiful navy blue silk bra, unfortunately (or fortunately?) now much too small for me.

I didn’t know I still had it. The panties to that bra, long lost, were the sole item of clothing ever to have had a role in my enjoyment of sexualized, fetishized transvestism. (And if that phrasing isn’t more uptight than “watersports”, I don’t know what is.)

One evening, after an old boyfriend and I had gotten naked, if I recall correctly, but before I started blowing him in front of his bedroom mirror, he surprised me by picking up the silk panties in question and donning them. Then he posed, swinging his hips first one way, then the other; flexing in front of the mirror; making faces that looked as if he were waiting in line at the bank (innocent and bored expressions were ones he found particularly amusing). I laughed–and more, I was turned on. Part of it, I think, was that he was wearing my panties. Part of it was undoubtedly that he was wearing panties. But part of it was that he was uninhibited enough to think of such a thing, and then try it, and laugh, and fuck me silly afterwards.

Discovering these little pockets of guiltless pleasures, these areas where my Puritanical limits aren’t on patrol, is joyous. I know some submissives love discovering these areas because their Doms are pleased at having pushed their limits, but as far as I’m concerned, to me it’s a victory no matter which of us stubles upon a new, mutually delectable perversion.

But enough about me. Tell me, please–tell me about your stealth kinks. What has, to your surprise, turned you on and on?

Water woman from RopeRookie, thanks to fluffy Lychees. Blue woman by the haunting Carla van de Puttelaar.