How to Read This Blog

Dear Readers,
This blog program displays the most recent blog posts first (at the top), and the first ones that I wrote are last (at the bottom, or on a separate page for "Older Posts").  Unfortunately, to be best understood, the first 2 posts I wrote in 2009 (Introducing Myself, and My Fluffy Collection) should be read first.  So I suggest clicking on those posts in the Blog Archive listing at the right, below the pictures, under August 2009 (you may have to click the arrow to make the 2009 monthly Archive listings show), to access them conveniently.  (Notice that, unlike the blogs themselves, the Archive listings are listed with the oldest posts first.)

Enjoy!  And thank you for visiting!  If you like what you see, and you want to get to know me better, please email me at furrylover@yahoo.com!

If you would like to also get to know my other more idealistic personal sides beyond just my fuzzy fetish, you can also go to my self-revealing idealistic personal blog at amiamema.blogspot.com.

Soft and Fluffy, Warm and Fuzzy Hugs to you,
Furrylover



INTRODUCTION TO MY FUZZY FETISH

Fuzzy Fetish
There is something unexpectably unique about my sexuality. I have an extreme sexual fetish addiction to feeling engulfed loosely in soft fluffy fuzzy furryness all over my body, completely, head to toe, especially including covering my face and hands. I am unfortunately actually sexually turned off by the feeling of naked skin. I can enjoy rubbing naked skin just fine when bringing a partner to orgasm, unless they are needing me to maintain an erection in order to turn them on (such as building a woman partner toward a vaginal orgasm), but for me to attain an erection, and especially to orgasm, I must be completely covered allover with and carressed with soft fluffy fuzzy furryness. There are a just few thousand people in the whole world who have a fuzzy fetish, most of them are heterosexual men who like to be naked themselves but love to see their partners wear a fuzzy sweater or fur coat during sex. Then there is a small fraction like me that like to wear soft fuzzyness themselves, but most of those still love nakedness along with the fuzzyness. However, among those few thousand fuzzy fetishists, there are only a few other people in the world who also prefer like I do to be covered all over with soft fuzzyness during sex, but as far as I know, I am the ONLY person I have ever heard of who absolutely NEEDS to be totally engulfed in fuzzyness without exception, in order to be able to orgasm. in a world where sexuality means nakedness and the enjoyment of touching naked skin, my extreme fetish addiction has understandably limited my chances for sharing sexual activities with others. I have needed to find the rare few partners who were so lovingly accommodating that they would allow me to be totally fuzzy while being sexual with them. Otherwise, the overwhelming majority of my sexuality my whole life has been just me alone with my fuzzies. 

Innocence and Sexuality:
My impression is that for most people innocence and sexuality are mutually exclusive. Another of the totally unique things about me, is that my sexuality is based totally on innocence, which is the most attractive human trait to me. I define innocence as not being tainted by negativeness, unguardedness, lack of cynicism, complete openness to the beauty and awe of life, without focusing on the uglyness. I believe most people were brought up to see sex as the "nasty". So in order to enjoy the excitement of sexuality they thought they had to be willing to be bad, nasty. I retained my virginity until my wedding night, because I could not find anybody willing to share totally innocent, pure, wholesome, loving premarital sexuality with me. 

In early adolecence I heard other boys talk with lecherous enthusiasm about their wanting to see and wanting to touch any part of a girl's skin that they could manange. I wanted no part of that. I wanted to connect with both girls and boys in innocent cuddly affection, but nobody wanted that nor even considered it possible. As adolecence proceeded, I heard the boys always upping the ante to wanting to get to see and touch ever more private parts of girls skin. Thus I came to unfortunately associate skin touch with lecherous non-innocent sexuality. By being totally and exclusively turned on only by soft fuzzyness, the kind of thing people think of wrapping babies in, I was able to give myself a totally innocent sexuality, whether or not anyone else ever chose to join me there. I've spent the last 50 years unsuccessfully searching for precious others that would love to join me in innocent sexuality.

Please be clear that I am not in the slightest being judgmental or unaccepting of anyone else's sexual styles, as long of course as they are mutually consensual. I recognize that modern adults in the 21st century can engage in all kinds of sexual acts with a complete sense of innocence. I'm just honestly reporting what I was unfortunately conditioned to limit my sexuality to in order for it to feel innocent to me while i'm engaging in it.

How my fuzzy fetish led to my first sexual experience in bed with another person

I first started attending church when I was 18.  My family never went to church when I was a child.  But when I went to college, I decided to give church a try, as another place to meet likeminded people.  One thing that I especially enjoyed about going to church as a youth in college was that it was common there for all the members to hug each other in greeting hello and goodbye, both women and men. That was the first place I had been in my whole life, up until then, where hugging was common, including not in my family. (Only my grandma would hug me enthusiastically, but nobody else did, not even my parents, and grandma was in another state!)

So the intial event that eventually led to my first sexual experience actually happened right there in church! One of the men in the congregation, who was in his fifties and was a professor, wore a mohair sweater to church one winter day. I was delighted to see (and eager to feel!) that lusciously fluffy furry sweater, and I gave him the most enthusiastic, delicious hug you could imagine! I probably even nuzzled my face into the softness of the mohair on his shoulders and neck and chest (he was a good bit taller than I was) as I hugged him. Well he seemed to really like the hug! And I of course did not want to quit! But there were still other people he was wanting to hug too, and I had to let him go. After the church service, he engaged me in a  conversation, and ultimately, he invited me to join him for dinner at his apartment! I was OVERJOYED! I had no idea if he was bi (I was so naive!) and also had no evidence about whether he was a fuzzy fetishist. (It turned out that he was not a fuzzy fetishist, and that was his only mohair sweater!) All I knew was that a man wearing a yummy fluffy mohair sweater had enjoyed my enthusiastic hug and had invited me to dinner!

(At this point, I need to give you some more background about me, so what I say below, about the dinner and evening with that man makes sense in the context of my life at that time. Up to that point in my life, NOBODY had ever shown any sexual interest in me. In high school, I had no girlfriends, though I occasionally could get a girl to go out with me (just once!) to one of the major school dances each year. Again, up through the beginning of college, I had never met nor even heard of any other boy who liked boys! I literally did not know they existed!) ok, now back to the other story.

I wore my only mohair sweater when I went over to the man's place for dinner. To my great disappointment, he was NOT wearing his! When I asked him if he wanted to put it on for us to enjoy hugging, he just looked perplexed, and he declined to put it on, saying he was already warm enough, but he hugged my quite enthusiastically. Neither of us ever talked even a word about being bi, so I just took the evening with him as it came, slowly, step by step. First, he cooked me dinner, and it was delicious. He was obviously a man who knew his way around the kitchen and was a good cook, which I am not. After dinner, he sat us down on his couch, facing each other. He sat at one end of the couch sideways, with his legs stretched out across the couch. He invited me to sit at the other end of the couch, just past his feet, with my legs stretched out next to his, with my feet facing him. He said we were sitting that way so we would be facing each other so we could talk better. He then eventually began rubbing my feet as we sat there and continued talking. I in turn rubbed his feet too. Eventually, ever so slowly, he started to extend his footrub up to include my ankles, and then my calves, and when he sensed my willingness, then my knees, and finally, my thighs. Then, finally, after we spent quite a while just massaging each others legs, and continuing to talk, he finally asked me if I would feel more comfortable lying down, instead of just sitting up on the couch.

FINALLY! That is the first point when I finally knew that he was actually inviting me to go to bed with him! I knew I wanted to from the first time we hugged in the mohair sweater at church, but I had no idea if he wanted it too, until that moment! At that point, I summoned all the courage I could come up with, and I asked him if he would be willing to put his mohair sweater on while we were in bed together. He said no. And he asked me to take mine off also and just be naked with him. Part of me was heartbrokenly dissappointed about the loss of fuzzyness, but the rest of me was just SO THRILLED that this man was actually cuddling with me in his bed, and kissing me!, and enjoying my company there in that way! I was overwhelmingly delighted! I was also starting scheming and hoping that if I could get him to like me and want me enough, then maybe eventually I could convince him to let us wear mohair sweaters while we are together, and if he liked me enough, maybe he would even buy me mohair sweaters!

Well, we had an incredibly wonderful, and for me educational and informative, night together, where I began learning what I liked and did not like in bed with a man. And when I left there in the morning, after he served me breakfast, I was totally on cloud 9! It had been by far the best night of my life to that point! And I was looking forward to many many more! I wanted to be his! Forever more!

But in fact, he never invited me over again! I was devastatingly disappointed! I obviously did not please him as much as I hoped I would, not as much as I enjoyed him! But still, he continued to hug me fondly at church each week. But he never wore his mohair sweater to church again! As time went on, he started dating a woman in the congregation who was close to his age. A year or two later, they got married, and he invited me to participate in his wedding (as whatever the male equivalent is to a bridesmaid)! And then, several years later, he died, and I participated in his funeral!