Don’t you feel sorry for the poor fellows suffering from impractical fetishes? No? Well, you’re an unfeeling bastard. Or maybe you just haven’t really thought it through.
Consider the unfortunate case of the middle-aged gentleman we shall can Juno. His is a very strange attraction. Not illegal. Immoral? Hard to say. Just painfully, hopelessly obscure.
Like most fetishes, it presumably went back to some experience during his very early, formative years. Perhaps his parents put a Solar System mobile above his cot. They wanted to educate him, you see. No SpongeBob SquarePants or blue plastic ducks for this little fellow. Juno would have the jump on his intellectually deprived peers before he could even burp.
He looked up at the gently spinning planets in his brief moments of wakefulness. He sometimes fretted at this time. By pure chance he experienced a chaffing that caused his first experience of arousal. He was looking up at a large, purple planet at the same time. For this stupid reason a deep, inerasable neural pathway was established. It lay dormant for years, occasionally surfacing in the form of a childhood obsession with space exploration and science fiction. Finally, in the confusion and tumult of his teenage years, Juno admitted to himself that he had a strange sexual fetish, and that nothing else would satisfy him.
Juno wanted to fuck Jupiter. Read More