An excerpt from The Fluffer
So, we're watching this tape, this amateur tape, this guy and I, and we're already into it kind of, I mean he's gone down on me and I'm sitting there watching the tape and feeling pretty good. It's this tape with multiple partners. And the camera swings around to the other side of the bed and for about ten seconds you can see this thing going on in the background, on the other side of the hotel room they're shooting in. Well, to tell the truth it's exactly eight seconds you can see this. I'll get into that later. Anyway, before the camera moves again you can see one of the performers in the back, the guy who had just been in the previous scene, and he's sitting in a chair drinking a glass of water, and there's this woman in front of him. She's got on this blue patterned dress and has this kind of white-trashy haircut. She looks like a secretary or something, right? And she's giving this guy head, all businesslike. And so I pause the tape and I tap my boyfriend on the shoulder and I'm like, "Hey, look at this. There's this couple having sex in the corner, off-camera, and no one's paying attention to them. What the hell is that?" And this guy says real matter-of-factly, "Oh, that's a fluffer," like he goes to porn shoots all the time. This guy had this real. Well, never mind, that's a whole other. He just. This guy was always acting like he's an expert on everything, even stuff he didn't know what the fuck he was talking about, you know? Ha-ha-ha, never mind. Whole other story.
So I took the tape home with me the next day and I ended up watching this eight seconds, over and over and over and over. It really, really turned me on, much more than anything else I had ever seen in a pornographic movie, ever. See, there's this thing to know about me that I haven't explained yet. Heh. Hmm. I've never really told anybody about this before. It's kind of embarrassing. I have a. Hmm. I have this sexual fetish. For machines. I have a sexual fetish for machines. There. I am going to be anonymous for this, right? Well, it's weird, isnŐt it? As long as I can remember. Well, no, actually, that's not quite right. I do remember my first conscious memory of a machine being an object of fetish. I was five or six and my mom set me down on top of a washing machine while she folded a load from the dryer. And I could. It wasn't necessarily sexual at that point, you know? Just this. Whole vibration thing that just went through my whole body. Shook my very bones, you understand? And beneath this very pleasant deep vibration was this WHUUMP-WHUUMP-WHUUMP of the washing basin as it spun around in the machine. This very thrilling thing. My fetish really is for pattern and rhythm and order, you see? Or, I'm getting my terms mixed up. The pleasurable part is the pattern and rhythm and order. The fetish, the actual physical relic I put my obsession on is machines.
I was one of those little girls who always wanted Erector sets and Legos instead of dolls. Yeah, a real tomboy in all kinds of senses. Of course, back then I didn't know it was because of this sexual fetish. Or, I don't know, maybe it's the opposite way. Maybe because I've been so obsessed with machines my whole life is why I developed a fetish for them when I went through puberty. Maybe all of it was all there the whole time and just came out slowly. I don't know. I'm no psychiatrist, you know? I just know what gets me off. Ha-ha!
So I got my first vibrator when I was eighteen. Oh yeah, it was. Well. Shit. Heh. Yeah, it was great. Holy shit it was great. It was this. It was this black plastic dildo with a vibrator built in the inside. No, not like a penis, it was just smooth and tapered like a...right, like a machine! Ha-ha-ha! Like something out of a science fiction movie. It was the greatest. And it was right at this time when I was developing this long-term emotional relationship with my vibrator that I first started having these bigger fantasies. No, not just about machines, but this is when I first started having fantasies about being a machine. Oh, you know, the typical stuff. Oh. Uh, yeah, right. Well, like, a typical fantasy would be like. Like. Uh. Like, uh. God, this is hard to describe. It'd be, like. Like fantasizing about being a wheel on a locomotive. You know those old locomotives where all the wheels are connected with a big metal rod? And you'll watch a movie with one of these old locomotives and that rod will start going back and forth, back and forth, and the wheels start cranking along with the motion, they're going SCCCCRRRREEEEETCCCHHH from the grinding against the tracks, starting up real slow, then it's getting faster and faster, CHUG chug chug chug, CHUG chug chug chug, chugga chugga chugga chugga. You see what I'm saying. And, like, they're all covered with grease, you know? They're covered in grease and steam and oil, and they're all black and sticky and oily and hot to the touch from all the friction, you know? I can get so unbelievably excited by being around one of those old 1950s motors, you know? One of those old ones painted battleship gray and just covered in grease. I'll run my finger down the side and get this black sticky grease on my finger and I just have to run to the bathroom and completely masturbate, wherever I am. God.
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