How fragile are your fantasies?

Set it free. There are no fences in here, and it might come back with friends!

Set it free. There are no fences in here, and it might come back with friends!

He told me he had finally done it, what I had mocked him as a chicken-shit about for months. He had gone out and done it, he said: he had hired a beautiful transwoman to fuck him.

This is one of those callers who… I don’t know. It’s entirely possible to find a transwoman escort to do the things that he wanted. This is what I had been telling him to do, in my badgering, fem-dom persona. So maybe he finally fulfilled his fantasy of sucking a real, live dick without having a man attached to it. I’m skeptical, given the way he said it happened—a clerk at the adult video store saw him looking at dildos and struck up a conversation, which magically led to him asking if she knew any beautiful “trannies”, which she did! and could procure for him! as easily as if he were at a mall!—but it could have happened that way.

It doesn’t matter whether it did or not, for the purposes of this piece. Let’s assume that he did in fact shell out $5,000 for one night with a stunning and well-endowed lady and made her come seven times in and on his body (because he’s never sucked cock before, so he must be that good, we can call this the 50 Shades fallacy from here on out). I am more interested in what he said to me, during our phone call, about this experience. He was so excited by it, he said, he wanted to tell me all about it. At some point, about 20 minutes into his recitation, I asked him, so, when are you going to do it again?

“Oh, I don’t know, she didn’t give me her phone number, I can only reach her through that lady at the video store, and $5,000 is a lot of money.”

It sounds like it was worth it, though.

“Yes, but when you get your fantasy met, doesn’t that degrade it? You know, wear it out?”

I had to write that down. I kept a half-ear tuned to his rambling, repetitive narrative, and I wrote that one sentence down, because it struck me that maybe a lot of people have some version of this running through their head. Like, the pleasure centers of your brain can get fried from too much pleasure, or you can get jaded from it. Having your perfect, forever-dreamed-of sex happen will ruin it, apparently.

I don’t know the science behind this. I mean, maybe? Human beings do crave sexual variety, after all. And nerve endings can get overplayed. And that’s a lot of setup for one night of over-the-moon pleasure. And if sucking “she-male” dick (GAH, that term needs to BURN) is not only a phone-sex fantasy, but something you really, really want, maybe anything more than once a year would make it somehow less special and might also make you question your heteronormativity in an uncomfortable way, so… maybe?

It’s at this point that I can’t help but think about my own fantasies, and how trying them out can make them better and more nuanced, as fantasies. A few times, I’ve really loved how these mind games turned out in real life, and went on to incorporate them into my regular rotation in which I experience the actual physical sensations AND amplify them in my head at the same time, and they are consistently and reliably awesome. They just get richer and more complex over time! Of course, other fantasies I’ve done and then said, oh, well, that’s okay then, and moved on to a different fantasy, because that one wasn’t all that, but I just needed to get my ya-yas out, and it turns out that my mind has a few other ones churning around back there, so okay, on to the next one!

I don’t think sexual fantasies have to degrade, in other words. I don’t think they automatically lose their shine or get ground away by harsh reality. That’s a function of the mind in which they reside. Tossing your fantasy out after one use, or letting that irrational fear of “degradation” keep you from trying the fantasy in the first place (when it’s ethically, legally, and physically practicable to do so), underestimates the elasticity of your own imagination.

There is so much room in our heads. It is both jungle and garden in there. I say turn your fantasies loose; let them roam. They’re not going to vanish, and if they do, so what? There are many more where those came from, and clutching at them only makes them stay forever smaller than they could be.


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