I Have a Sneezing Fetish

"It's the forceful immediacy of the tension and release cycle."

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I've been aware of my interest in sneezing since I was a really little kid, around five or six. I didn't have the vocabulary then to identify sexual feelings, but I knew it made me feel funny. I would have erotic dreams about it; I was always aware of having a real draw to it. There's no way I chose this; it's wiring in your head.

I have no attraction to my own sneezing; it's specifically male sneezing. For me, seeing or hearing somebody sneeze is like seeing nudity for someone else. Not just any male, though. I'm really turned off by people in my family doing it; I find it really upsetting. I have no interested in female sneezing, though there are many people that do like both. There aren't any other sounds or noises that turn me on.

In my teens it became clear to me that this was a strong stimulus to my sexuality. Because it was weird and nearly impossible to integrate into my sex life, I resisted paying any attention to it for a long time.

I read up on how to desensitize myself. The advice I've read says that rather than giving in to it, you're supposed to think about it while you're having normal sex with somebody and then gradually wean yourself away from the thought. You're supposed to have this parallel mental experience of holding it in your mind with someone you're otherwise attracted to. It's this weird distancing. I tried to do that through my late twenties.

It didn't go well. I had to turn off part of my brain. I was expressing a conventional version of what I thought was supposed to be my sexuality, but it wasn't satisfying for me. It's like if I were into BDSM, I could have vanilla sex if I put my mind to it, but it wouldn't be authentic. I've spoken to other people with fetishes and it seems to be this way for them too.

For me, seeing or hearing somebody sneeze is like seeing nudity.

I've discovered there's such a huge spectrum of why people are turned on by sneezing. Some people like the care-taking aspect. For me, it's the forceful immediacy of the tension and release cycle. It's like watching someone have multiple orgasms or hearing them do it. It's a different way of experiencing that involuntary physical release.

I've never told anyone about my fetish, not even my partners, even though I've had several multiple year relationships. I stayed with one guy for six years, much longer than I should have, because he had hay fever and allergies, and I really liked his sneezing. Once he had a sneezing fit when he was going down on me. He was really embarrassed by it, but to me it was one of the hottest things ever. I felt like telling him would be like telling someone you're attracted to the sound of them urinating. I can't imagine telling someone without making them super self-conscious. He accidentally played into my fetish, and I let him.

I found that when I was with other partners, I couldn't reach orgasm without the sound of sneezing. I just couldn't do it, but I have a really good auditory memory. I would be with someone but playing a soundtrack in my head. That bothered me for a while because I felt like I wasn't really present for the sexual experience. Then I thought, how many people think about an ex or a porn star when they're having sex? This was just my version of that.

I've never been ashamed of it; I didn't grow up in a household where there was any shame attached to sex. It's more that I don't want to make other people uncomfortable. This is something that people naturally do; they couldn't stop sneezing around me even if they wanted to. I don't want them to be wondering what I'm thinking every time they sneeze.

Almost everything about sex is inherently kind of gross.

For people who would say this is "gross," well, almost everything about sex is inherently kind of gross. We put our slobbery mouths on other people's bodies. If you drill down to the actual nuts and bolt of almost sexual act, there's an inherent degree of oh my god, why would anyone do that?And what makes something gross differs by culture.

In my mid twenties, I realized this was a huge part of my sexuality. If I didn't honor and express it, I would be in danger of making relationship choices that were fetish-driven. I thought it was better to embrace it and see what that was like for me.

Now, I've equipped myself with everything I would possibly need to have an extremely satisfying solo sex life. I masturbate four to five times a day. I have a really vivid imagination, and I've invested in around $2,000 worth of extremely nice sex toys. With what the fetish community provides online and what I'm able to provide for myself, I have far better sex alone than sex I've had with another person. I haven't had sex with another person for five years. I can't imagine doing it again. I can't imagine what the point would be.

That being said, my ideal sexual partner is a guy who either sneezes when aroused—which is surprisingly common—or who is turned on by his own sneezing. That's my ideal, but I don't actually expect to find that in a person who would also be a compatible life partner. I'm a 44-year-old intellectual woman. I've never wanted kids. I make more money than most men. The spectrum of men who would date me is already narrow. I don't think it's possible to find someone who satisfies both my relational needs, and my fetish-driven sexuality.

I can see myself having a really nice emotional and psychological partnership with someone who's asexual or who was sexually dysfunctional. Sexuality doesn't have to be about physical contact. The brain really is the most sexual organ there is.

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