announcing latecomer, a latecomer to inflation

Oh. My. God.

All my life, I thought my inflation fetish was unique.  I had no idea that there was anyone else in the world who shared my thoughts and feelings about inflation, which frankly represent my most deeply-hidden secrets- ones which I expect fully to carry with me to my grave.

Now I stumble across this site and discover that there is a whole community of people from around the world whose brains, it seems, are all wired- in this one bizarre and arcane respect- just the same as mine. This is truly a mind-blowing revelation.

I glance through the forums and pick up on threads of conversation about exactly- and I mean, EXACTLY- the same thoughts, the same mental images, the same arousal triggers that I have never understood, right down to the fears and concerns regarding the shame of being found out, and the misery of keeping and carrying this secret.

For example, I still vividly remember the first time I saw a certain cartoon on TV in the 1950's in which a fat girl in a swimsuit is blown up like a balloon, and floats weightlessly in the air, by the balloon she is trying to inflate by mouth. I was instantly stunned speechless, utterly transfixed by that image in a way I absolutely could not comprehend, and felt an immediate sense of connection with her fate- that as long as SHE could not breathe, neither could I. I could not move. I sat there and stared at the TV screen and watched her float helplessly and held my breath in panic and suffered just like her until she finally opened her mouth and went zooming around the room like a deflating balloon. I almost wet my pants. I knew right then and there that my deepest, darkest, longest-lasting secret had just been born that afternoon. I was only seven years old.  

Now I understand that this is called blowback inflation, that the intimate connection between me and the cartoon character was a form of breathplay-by-proxy, and the people in this site have watched the same cartoons, and the same movies, and even the very same episode of My Little Margie and had the same experiences in so doing that I did all of fifty-two years ago.

Thus, you will know me as "latecomer" in these pages.

It's going to take time for me to fully come to terms with this experience, because never in my wildest dreams did I ever expect to find anyone else in the world who I had this in common with- who responds to these obscure stimuli the same way I do.

Once I get my nerve up (which may not actually happen, but who knows?) I may be sharing with you the writings and drawings I have secretly taught myself to do, which I have never shared with anyone else, and which I have hidden for decades with the greatest care from everyone else in my life, but which have come to serve as the primary erotic outlet and source of release (as well as- at least, until today- a deep sense of isolation, aloneness, self-loathing, and shame) for my entire adult life- right up the present day.

Take me! I'm yours.

-latecomer