Turned on by generator oil

STORY: Mike Miksche | PHOTOS: Eisen Loch & Charming Fuzz

LEVI LIKES TO GET OFF ON OIL—REAL OIL FROM THE GENERATOR OF THE TANKER SHIP where he’s worked for the last five and a half years. He sent me some photos of himself, his arms covered in the stuff and rubbed on his face and nose as though it was tribal paint.  Apparently, a mere whiff of it can get him going—but it’s not a fetish that needs to end in in orgasm. He sent me another photo with some on his chest, his belly, and down to his cock,balls, and in his pubic hair. He has masturbated with it, using it as his own brand of lube when he’s by himself.

Levi’s oil fetish wasn’t inspired by niche porn, be it Sludgemaster or Palm Drive Video. In fact, he’s never seen anybody else play around with it before. He says that he’s not into the gunge scene either; he’d actually never even heard of the word “gunge” before I asked him about it. There’s something remarkably pure about his fetish; born out of his imagination and adoration for all things masculine.

He only got into oil play last year while in the engine room at work. “When you’re doing an oil change on one of the generators—which is where the best oil comes from. Those generators… I mean, there’s really not much you can do,” he says.

“You’re going to get it everywhere.

“I stuck my hands in somewhere and it started dripping all over my arms and I was like, ’Ooooh! I like this. I like the smell of it, I like the feel of it, I like the look of it.’” He chuckles.  “And then I got excited.”

It didn’t take long for it to turn sexual, but he did have concerns about it at first for safety reasons. Obviously, it’s not meant to be smeared all over the human body. He tried it“sheepishly” in the beginning and his skin didn’t react, so he got “a little more brazen” over time.

He was intrigued by his attraction to it but didn’t overthink it. In retrospect though, he has a hunch as to why this might have done something for him:

“I really like machines,” he says simply, “and I really like doing physical labor, as ridiculous as that sounds, so there’s something very blue-collar and masculine about working with machines and working with your hands. And oil is the epitome of working with machines.”

“There’s something very blue-collar and masculine about working with machines and working with your hands. And oil is the epitome of working with machines.”


The appeal also comes from what he describes as a “healthy dose of childhood curiosity”: the idea that he wants to get all into it because he knows that he shouldn’t. He admits that he’s been tempted to take a swig of it. Maybe it’s also for this reason—he’s not quite sure, but he can’t think of any other reason to do it. He claims he wouldn’t swallow, although he has had a bit of it in his mouth.

“It doesn’t really have a flavor,” he tells me, “but it does have a weird feeling.”

The smell, on the other hand, is a whole other story. It’s the center of his adoration, a scent which he describes as sort of sweet and metallic. “I love it,” he confesses.

He’s drawn to the feeling of it on his skin too: “I like the way it feels when you drip it on yourself. The best thing would be to be working on the engine, and have it dripping from the engine onto your face and arms.”

He tries not to play with it for more than 30 minutes to an hour at a time due to its toxicity, and he often saves it as a “special treat.” It’s just as well, because he’s only got about five or six gallons of it stashed away at home (although he guesses that he only uses about a cup at a time, which apparently goes a long way).

To say that this fetish is uncommon would be an understatement. Some may question its safety; Levi explains that he hasn’t been able to find anybody to enjoy it with—and he doesn’t seem that confident that he will either, even though he’d like to.

He might appear to be the odd man out, but is he really any different than fetishists who play on the edge, getting off on things like breath control or being bound by complete strangers in even stranger places? From my conversations with Levi, what I sense most from him is the sheer joy that oil brings him, despite the risks. And maybe that’s all that really matters.