Cheese Fetish
As usual, the PervScan mailbag remains a source of both comedy and tragedy. The tragedy is that sometimes emails are pathetic pleas for help with various sexually related frustrations and woes. The comedy is that sometimes guys like Dan write:
Can you please send me a catalogue / booklist to [address deleted]. I have a particular food fetish for cheese I hope you can help me find material for. I live with my girlfriend who does not understand this so discretion is appreciated.
For the record, Supervert has published two books — Extraterrestrial Sex Fetish and Necrophilia Variations — in addition to its various web sites. None of them concern cheese or any other sort of food fetish, though perhaps you stumbled on PervScan by googling “Police Arrest Cheese Covered Naked Man” (which happens to be the top result if you search for “cheese fetish”).
Your email reminded PervScan of the time when, as a wee lad, he found himself with a friend in a magazine store. Furtively scanning porn magazines, the two stumbled on a glossy that featured pictures of naked women sitting spread-eagled on top of pizzas. The images were very puzzling. Why would naked women sit on pizzas? Wouldn’t they get melted cheese twisted into their pubes? Tomato sauce burning its way into their vaginas? And what sort of person would find this sexy? Was this a joke, a gross-out caricature of the notion of “eating out” a woman? The magazine was left in the rack, but it left long-term reverberations, unanswered questions in the minds of the boys who had seen it. In that pre-internet age, it was the instigation of a conceptual revolution, a window onto inscrutable forms of sexuality.
And now, all these years later, your email suggests an answer. Why, that magazine store must have been the one place in the world to cater to cheese fetishists. You and people like you would have thrilled to see mozzarella sticking to the labia of some third-rate porn queen. But then that just points to another question: how many of you are there? Enough to support your own publication?
I am famous among the crew at the FaceTheJury website, but for similar reasons. I buy pizzas for minors I meet online, then hassle them for nude pictures. I am a hero, a regular Casanova, and I have the charisma of a “fucking retard”.
I like it when Scottish men call me on Skype, and breathe heavily down the microphone.
My wife is an ugly 30yr old woman, who could easily pass for 65. She does not suffice my needs. Only minors do that, oh, and sugar 88.
Well I for one love cheese. But not THAT much. It is a very versatile food. But posing on a pizza is quite a strech. That’s just a bit tooo versatile. But I’m betting it made the pepperoni happy…
HA! ITW, typed it before you did!
Sho nuff’ beat me to tha punch LuciousGoddess! Brings to mind a certain commercial seen on TV where a family winds up hoboing on a train car with a couple of tramps. A little girl says “something smells like old cheese” and one of the tramps jerks a thumb at the other and says “that’s just Earl”.
It doesn’t take much imagination to figgure out why Earl smells like limburger cheese; anybody that hasn’t took a bath in a while, and especially anybody that hasn’t been real particular about keeping their private parts clean will soon develop a “ripe” smell.
Case in point: A sailor on shore leave in an under-developed country passes a group of the local inhabitants, turns to his buddy and says “hey is there a pizza place around here somewhere, I just got a strong whiff of mozzarella.”
i guess thats why they make that disgusting cheese in a can you know the one that can be sprayed out like orange-yellow glop on to crackers or more intiment body parts.
Say….who cut the cheese?
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