We all have fantasies, sexual and otherwise. I hope someone, somewhere, sometime sat you down and explained that. If it was your mother, as it was for some of us, then I hope the explanation did not include her personal masturbation techniques, because that’s just disturbing. But there it is. You gotta learn somewhere.
Should you make your fantasies become reality? If you don’t know my answer already, then you haven’t been reading this column for long. The answer, obviously, is: “Good luck with that.”
The great thing about fantasy is having compete control of your experience. We rehearse our fantasies, play them over and over in our heads, revising and making the sweet spots sweeter, making the rough spots smooth.
You will never have that kind of control over reality. Even in the fabled land of fetish, in the world of BDSM, where someone takes on the dominant role and claims to be responsible in large degree for the setting, the safety, and the experience of someone else, even there you will find gross reality. Perhaps even more than you expect.
As soon as you get with a real person – or people – in a real room, with real nudity (or not), real tingly bits (or not), and real smells, expressions, and emotional states, fantasy folds its hand. Fantasy people become bodies in fact, and like the man said, let’s see you deal with that.
I’m the king of fantasy. Give me a scenario – let’s say a threesome, that’s a good red-blooded boy fantasy – and watch me spin it into a movie of the week. But how does a real threesome work? Well, it can be awkward to say the least, especially if your only guide is a porn-derived orifice jam session.
If your real threesome is going to be worth the effort – and I mean one that’s not an embarrassment fueled by tequila and triple-dog dares – it’ll take time, and talk, and steady nerves. None of these are typical ingredients of fantasy, by the way. Plenty of guys go limp as cake mix when faced with a two-vag platter. Let another cock in the room and it’s worse. (Thus the popularity of pharma hard-ons in some naughty precincts.)
This isn’t the end of the world.
If you haven’t backed away at this point (lots of people do, so don’t feel bad) that’s a good sign, because this is where you start building something fun, something erotic and interesting.
Beware the tyranny of the fantasy. Fantasies are coin on the web, where you find countless ridiculous profiles and avatars of ladies and gents writing their fantasies down, hoping beyond hope that the act of writing it down brings them closer to the act itself. Sorry, Charlie Crossdresser. Sorry, Betty Buttsex. It ain’t that simple. It’s complicated, and better.
How many people have tried to move their ideas from Alt.com to Alt.reality and balked at the last minute? I don’t know, but I’d put good money on a high figure. Very high.
To those who take the plunge, I say “congratulations.” You’re not risking just your anonymity and future sainthood. You’re putting your fantasies on the line. If you pull it off they won’t be fantasies anymore; they’ll be a strange smelling compound of illusion and disillusion. The mystery of “What if…” replaced by the mystery of “So that’s how it is….”