Pregnant Kink
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Pregnant Kink
Sex. Celebrity. Politics. With Teeth
Sex. Celebrity. Politics. With Teeth
The Pregnancy Fetish, as Explained by Pregnancy Fetishists
Stranger Things Gave Us a D! an E! an A! D! Cheerleader
NY Mag Producer Has Take So Bad, Alison Bechdel Must Update Eponymous Test
Stranger Things Gave Us a D! an E! an A! D! Cheerleader
NY Mag Producer Has Take So Bad, Alison Bechdel Must Update Eponymous Test
Shannon Cook, a journalist for CNN, recently re-watched footage of an Annie Lenox interview she conducted while pregnant—super pregnant. Re-visiting the clip didn't make the journalist shudder at the memory of waddling into a studio at 5 a.m. while in her third trimester. What it did make her think of was something that happened later, at the grocery store. As she stood in the vegetable aisle, massively pregnant and feeling up some avocados, a man seemed to...hit on her?
A man was attracted to her. Because she was pregnant.
I wasn't sure whether to start lobbing bell peppers and radishes at the guy, or just accept the chatter as that kindness from strangers only pregnancy evokes. My instincts told me there was more to it and when pregnant, your instincts are pretty darn noisy.
There was something behind his charming smile, his lingering and the urgent look in his eyes. This dude thought I was hot. But how could he? I mean, I looked like an upright hippopotamus. Was he merely homing in on the obviousness of my fertility? Did he have a thing for maternity jeans? How is it possible that when your pregnant self feels your stretched-out worst, you're able to attract random-dude-in-Tom-Ford in the fruit and veggie aisle?
Cook goes on to tackle the topic of preggo-chasers, talking to sex educators who tell her the whole thing is pretty normal — pregnant women are confident! They glow! What's not to love? And she chats with a neuropsychiatrist who suggests maybe men hit on pregnant women because they feel safe; they can flirt with you without fear of it leading somewhere since they assume you are taken. It's either that, the neuropsychologist says, or the fact that you are a walking billboard for fertility, advertising the fact that had sex that one time. (According to a pregnant friend, you are also a walking billboard for mood-swings and leakage, but whatevs.)
Cook entertains that a pregnancy fetish might be explained by the fetishist remembering Mom being pregnant, and she cites the results of 2011 questionnaire/study that found lactating/pregnancy fetishes are more common in older siblings. (Sounds like a bit of a stretch, but watch out for those Duggar boys.)
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Yet for all the theorizing, the author didn't just ASK pregnancy fetishists what is so hot about baby-bumps. So we did.
"Ben," a 42-year-old veteran of the kink scene, admits that he is attracted to ladies with pregnant bellies. Why? He broke it down for us, bullet-points and all, over email:
And it isn't just men. "Lea" is a 24-year-old with a pregnancy fetish. "She is fertile and has successfully created life. As a lesbian, I have the choice to become pregnant. This makes us, women, god like, powerful, rulers of life," she says. "That is sexy." And seriously, while it is sometimes downplayed in art and literature, giving birth is the human experience. Like by default. So maybe we can see where that might be worthy of some sort of worship, sexual or otherwise.
But the world of pregnancy fetish is also huge. There are breeding fetishes (basically where you role play during sex that said sex is going to knock you up — bonus fetish points if this is with someone is not your primary partner), lactation and milking fetishes (and let's remember that you don't necessarily need to be pregnant in order to lactate). There's also role-playing for pretending you're pregnant, male pregnancies, forced impregnation fantasies, gang-bang impregnation fantasies...
Okay, I'll stop. Maybe for some folks the turn-on really is just the glow. Really! I didn't mean to freak you out, Shannon Cook. I am sure that dude who was into your avocados was perfectly innocent.
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Pregnancy fetishism , also known as maiesiophilia , is a sexual fetish for women who are or appear pregnant . It's common among the Republican Party, which is why they want to make sure women stay pregnant. Amongst those who have the fetish there are many subtle distinctions and sub-fetishes, so not all are the same. In some cases it coincides with an affectation for lactation , and can be connected to inflation fetishism. It is not, however, at all connected to paedophilia (despite the apparently-common assumption). [ How to reference and link to summary or text ] Impregnation fetish is another related paraphilia.
The main attraction for many pregnancy fetishists is the curve of the belly leading into the pubic area. For some the bigger the belly becomes the more aroused they feel. The breasts also increase in size causing a sub class of pregnancy fetishism that leads to breast expansion. Many people who have this fetish have a limit to how large the belly or breasts can become before they are no longer arroused. Some are more aroused by the breasts and belly increasing far beyond natural limitations. This is when a prenancy fetish can become an inflation fetish. Others are aroused by the thought of impregnation and the inevitable pregnancy. This has more to do with potency than the actual pregnancy fetish.
Many woman as well as men share this fetish. Some women feel sexier, and more desirable while pregnant. Towards this end there are lingerie lines made exclusively for pregnant women as well as special sexual poses that are low impact. Some women might even orgasm longer while pregnant. This can be from an increase in pressure on the g-plate or even on the cervix. It should also be noted that many couples have sex while pregnant, even if neither partner has a pregnancy fetish.
Demi Moore appearing nude and pregnant, showing how pregancy can be sexual
Pregnant woman model poses in photo.
This page has more information about pregnancy fetishism.
This site is typical for softcore pregnancy pictures.
The "pregnant bikini contest" was featured on home-video TV show Maximum Exposure .
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By Anonymous
Updated August 20, 2018
This is life with a pregnancy fetish…
By Anonymous
Updated August 20, 2018
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My fetish is more common than you think it is. A lot of people have it. And if you’re not familiar with it, you might judge it, just like I would judge something I didn’t understand. Despite what you might think, I’m not a monster. I have a strong, primal impulse, like anyone with an addictive fetish does, and I am alway in the process of balancing it out with the practicalities of real life.
And before you ask, yes, I’m in therapy for having a pregnancy fetish. My therapist knows about my problem, and is the only person who was able to get me to the doctor’s office for the birth control implant — a small bar under the skin of my upper arm that I constantly, subconsciously scratch at. I want to rip it out, and I dream of doing it in my sleep. But I meet with my therapist twice a week, and she helps me with that. And with a lot of other things.
I met my husband (with whom I have two children, the only two I have) seven years ago. He didn’t know about my fetish — something I’ve known about since I was a teenage girl — but over the years, I began to open up to him. We’ve always had an extremely communicative sex life, and even though I was afraid he would judge me, I began to love him so much (and see myself so seriously with him) that not telling him about such a huge part of me was not an option anymore. I found that, beyond not upsetting him, it actually turned him on, too. He was happy to indulge my fantasies and support my dreams of being a mother as many times as we could, both physically and financially.
The first time I actually got pregnant, it was like an entirely new world had been opened to me. Where my sex life had always been thrilling (and our roleplaying helped enormously), this was a whole new level of joy and pleasure. Sometimes it felt that just by sitting down on my office chair, I would have an orgasm! My whole body was humming with excitement, and having people come up to me on the street to feel my stomach was every bit the flattering, glowing experience I thought it would be. I felt like a goddess, in every sense of the word, and my husband couldn’t leave me alone. At one point, he called in sick four days in a row to stay home and make love to me. Luckily having an eight-month-pregnant wife helped with that story!
But when my daughter arrived, things changed quickly. Where my body had felt vibrant and warm, it suddenly felt empty and sagging. Always trim, I had suddenly become a loose, fat woman — and not the round, jolly kind of fatness that makes you feel like twice a woman when you’re expecting. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror, and I couldn’t look at my daughter. I resented her for having taken something from me, even though I didn’t know what that thing was. My husband bonded with her immediately, and I was glad he did, because our nanny ended up replacing most of my interaction with her. At least she had one parent who was head-over-heels, the way you should be.
I saw my therapist, who explained to me all about post-partum depression, and helped me get back to a normal life. I lost thirty pounds, started feeling “myself” again — going dancing, traveling, working, enjoying the company of my family — and things started to make sense. I didn’t feel incredibly attached to my daughter, though. (I would describe the love as the love I have for my parents, whom I’m not enormously close to. I feel a familial draw and obligation, and I know intrinsically that I would do anything for her, but I don’t get a rush of endorphins from seeing her. I don’t extract an enormous amount of joy in her presence, certainly nothing like when I was pregnant.)
Once my confidence was back at its highest, and my sex life with my husband had returned full-force — when my daughter was just over two — I quickly became pregnant again. I want to say that this was an accident, but I had been intentionally messy about contraception, because I wanted the experience without having to say that it was something I did on purpose. I couldn’t help it, my fetish had returned, and I needed the experience of pregnancy again. It was something greater than myself, and when I found out the news, all of my concerns were immediately erased from my mind. I even connected with my daughter in a more profound way — now that I was so happy and fulfilled, I could give my full self to her. It was an idyllic nine months, as it had been the last time.
But as soon as my son was born, I was emptied again. My body had taken an even harder toll, and he was a colicky baby who couldn’t sleep through the night. There was one week where I just left — took the car, drove to a beach town an hour or so away, and rented a room in a little b&b in the middle of autumn. I couldn’t stand to be around my family, particularly not my children, and making up with my husband would only mean that my overwhelming fetish would return. When I arrived back after that week of cleansing, I felt better (better enough to put on a good front, and get into therapy), but I was not happy. And I did not feel love.
Now, I am here, with a four- and two-year-old, and a handsome, still quite young husband who cares for me. But I feel nothing. Without my fetish, I am empty inside, and looking at my children only reminds me painfully what it felt like when it was good. The thought of not having that experience to look forward again tears me apart inside, and makes me seriously consider suicide.
The truth of the matter (at least, after a few years’ worth of therapy) seems to be that I am just not one of those people who should be a mother. In fact, in all of my years of fantasizing, I never actually thought about what it would be like after giving birth. It never interested me. And all of the instincts I have for other parts of my life simply don’t happen with my children — they inspire nothing profound in me, nothing that makes me long for their presence. I hope they are happy, but I am more interesting in caring for myself than for them. I would always choose a night with friends over a night watching Disney.
And now I am here in a prison I have created, with two children I don’t feel very strongly for. My desire still consumes me, and I fear that one day I may leave them to re-start the whole process in a different country, with some other name. All I know is that I have to get out, and have this experience again. I have to find a solution, and something tells me (as much as I hate to admit it) that it might not involve my family.
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Sophie Saint Thomas is a New York-based writer originally from the Caribbean. She is Allure ’s resident astrologer and the author of Finding Your Higher Self: Your Guide to Cannabis for Self-Care (Adams Media), a guide to self-care and marijuana, and [*Sex Witch: Magickal Spells for Love, Lust, and... Read more
The term "fetish" may evoke images of black bodysuits and complicated sexual contraptions , but you may already be acting out some of the most common examples. ( Spanking , anyone?) What defines a fetish isn't what the activity or object of desire is so much as the role it plays in someone's life. "A fetish is typically referred to as behavior that someone cannot get sexually aroused without. Fetishes can also be a term people use to describe sexual arousal that is coupled with a typically non
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