Gay people, you know, occasionally express a fleeting pity for straight people, the idea being that the great bland majority are missing out on a particularly fulfilling and enlightening way of life that they can never understand, just because they don't have the constitution for it. I feel that way lately about people who don't have fetishes. Having a fetish is like having a hobby, only better. Having a fetish gives you something to think about while your subway is stuck in the tunnel or your committee meeting is droning on. It expands the erotic zone beyond the bedroom out into the street. The world is fair game.

Pity most people don't see it that way. Boors!

Five (more or less avowed) fetishists gathered as a panel at GMSMA's May 8 program meeting to talk about the things that drive them sexually. These were men who appreciate the eroticism of a greater part of the universe than just human genitalia. Well maybe no one professed to be in love with the moon, but just about the only thing all five had in common was an attraction to things somehow associated with men. It's just more evidence (if more were needed) that human sexuality is infinitely diverse.

That is surely true in the case of foot fetishes. You'd think that once you realized you were gay, kinky, and into feet, that would be narrow enough, but no: there are guys who are turned on only by bare feet, only by socked feet, only by sneakers, only by loafers, only by wingtips, or only by boots. As first speaker of the evening, I decided to talk mainly about boots, since there is a noticeable preference for boots in the leather-S/M community even among men who do not enjoy the fetish.

To allow the audience to get into the head of a fetishist, I read a true account of the sexual odyssey of an ardent boot-lover. The writer early matured from a fascination with men's feet and shoes to an obsession with their boots, all before puberty. His sister's boyfriend was his first big fetish-feeder, but as a young adult he zeroed in on mounted police and other uniformed types. In a desperate bid for authenticity, he began passing out business cards for bootblacking among the local cops, and one day they showed up at his door, ready for some waxy action. Nothing, he says, can surpass the arousal he felt as he sat with that first police boot propped between his own legs, its leathery shaft towering to his lips, its owner gazing down to keep a check on the work's progress. After that, he could never get enough. For a year and a half he shined shoes in a large office tower.

He finagled his way into polishing the boots of Texas A&M Corps Cadets, motorcycle cops at a regional "rodeo," and-for a few blissful weeks of exile-the state police at barracks near his home. For him, boots represent power.

Polishing and licking boots are ways to acknowledge the power wielded by the man who wears the boots.

Power was an ingredient in at least two other fetishes as well. Lee spoke of piss as a way to assert dominance over another man (Lee personally prefers not to confuse dominance with humiliation, which he avoids). Piss, he said, is an essential component of raunchy sex. It's forbidden, it's dirty, it's downright shocking to many people. To keep the piss on the play partner, where it belongs, he recommended clothing of some sort; to keep it off the floor of the playspace, where it doesn't belong, he suggested a plastic drop cloth. And to produce the stuff in the first place, Lee said there's nothing better than plain old water, which he drinks by the quart both before and during a scene. Beer works well too, imparting a stronger flavor (the beer may be alcoholic or not, since alcohol merely turns to sugar in the drinker's body). Both alcohol and caffeine are diuretics, so the beverage menu is quite large. About the only thing to avoid is asparagus (unless you've got a real masochist on your hands).

For Ted, cigars are a symbol of power. Though he doesn't consider himself a cigar fetishist, he does enjoy using them as part of a look at a bar or as part of the play later at home. Universally associated with masculinity (possibly because they are phallic), cigars can perform several functions in a man- on-man scene. They can contribute to a cozy aura surrounding the top as he relaxes with his boy at his feet. They can excite the senses of sight and smell as the smoke rises around the genitals or face. And they produce intense heat that can serve as a threat or a source of pain. A hot cigar can etch a pattern onto a hairy chest, while cold ash makes a decent lubricant. If you're turned on by cigars, this is your heyday: they're enjoying a surge of popularity, possibly as a backlash against anti-smoking drives. Get'em while they're hot.

Another one who appreciates a hairy chest is Edgar. He spoke on the bear fur fetish. (The what?) Edgar explained that he couldn't really see bear as a fetish, since there's no consistent criterion for judging a man to be a bear: it's sort of a combination of hair, bulk, and attitude. The attitude, he said, tends strongly to be inclusive, friendly, and playful. The bulk is for some a sine qua non (in California, if you haven't got it, you're an "otter"), while for others, heftiness is just the fruit of an attitude that says "to hell" with dieting and with other people's preferences for svelte. So that leaves body hair, and while Edgar wouldn't rule out the existence of hairless bears, hair certainly qualifies as a fetish (think Samson). The fetish is both visual and tactile. It looks different and feels different depending on whether it's sweaty or dry, and both are good.

And there are sweet spots, like armpits and butts (Despite the above-mentioned friendly attitude, Edgar admits to having seen a few hairy "assholes.")

Turning mainstream youth-obsessed gay culture on its (pierced) ear, Johnny spoke up for men who are attracted to older men-sometimes much older men. Can an abstraction-age-be a fetish? Hey, why not? The point seems to be that the typical manifestations of age-white or thinning hair, weathered skin-are inherently attractive to some men. Who among us can claim to feel no libidinous stirring when a Sean Connery, Clint Eastwood, or Chad Everett strides onto the screen? When Johnny was asked about the feasibility of long-term relationships with older men, I assumed the questioner had mortality in mind, but Johnny latched onto the gap between ages instead and suggested that the bond between souls depends on their compatibility, not their coevality (OK, he didn't use that word). I know I feel better-as I discover gray hairs that I can only wish belonged to an older man-knowing that human sexuality is diverse enough to count me in.

So, look, if you don't have a fetish, go out and get one. The LURE hosts Foot Friends bar nights every last Monday of the month. To get information on National Foot Network (NFN)'s videos and publication (with stories, photos, personals, and ads for other groups), write to P.O. Box 420570, San Francisco, CA 94142-0570 or to nfn@netcom.com. An older competitor is The Foot Fraternity, P.O. Box 24102, Cleveland, OH 44124. Supposedly, there's a hot boot page on the web at http://www2.best.com/~bootjac/bootjaq/bootjaq.html. Hot Ash meets at Cell Block on the last Wednesday of each month; they publish "Hot Tips." Bergenfield Bears meet at the Lure second Mondays at 8:30, while Metro Bears head for the Dugout on third Wednesdays at 8:00. For intergenerational contacts, check out Jovian Gentlemen at 212-592-3831; they meet frequently.

So there's no excuse, right?

By Joseph

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