On Fantasy

Guys are always asking me to tell them my biggest sexual fantasy.

For me, it’s not really a question that carries a lot of weight. Perhaps it might have been when I was younger—a lot younger—and hadn’t really explored as much. At that point I would’ve been able to say, “Hey, I haven’t had a three-way. That sounds exciting.” Or, “I’ve always dreamed about sucking off a pair of twin brothers. Let’s find some!” I might’ve been able to talk about double-penetration, or gang-bangs, or any of the stuff that the untaught typically bring up as the object of their inquisitive and dirty minds.

I tend to be realistic about my fantasies. I’ve always fantasized about stuff that could actually happen at some point. So I don’t moon about unattainable Hollywood icons, or being mounted in serial fashion by all five of the Backstreet Boys. (Maybe Kevin. He was dreamy.) I’m not going to stroke and think about Jessica Rabbit. I’m not going to wish that I could find a sexy giantess whose enormous creamy bosom I must climb and conquer like Sir Edmund Hillary. Anything involving a couple of horny humans and a Mexican donkey, though? Sure. I’m down for that.

I’ve always been a Dr. Frank-N-Furter kind of guy with a “Don’t dream it, be it” attitude; I’ve always felt that sexual fantasies weren’t mean to remain in the realm of daydream forever. If I think about something, there have to be other people out there trying to find the same thing. Why not meet them and let it happen? That’s what I’ve done, and at this point there’s not really that much I haven’t explored at least once. Fantasies are for masturbators, has been my dismissive and knee-jerk response to the question of what I yearn to do, when I’m asked. They’re for folk who are too frightened to go after what they wish for.

Now, I realize that’s not the entire truth of the matter. There are many reasons people fantasize, and I’m always telling people that when it comes to sex, it’s important to recognize and delineate one’s comfort levels and stick to the things that don’t exceed them. Sometimes people genuinely don’t have access to what they want; sometimes they don’t have the mobility, or the health. Sure, we often use our circumstances as an excuse to start off a sentence with the words But I can’t. . . . When that happens, those words are the kiss of death to a fulfilling life. Quite often, though, stuff can genuinely get in the way of us pursuing what we want and crave.

So no, I’m not being judgmental of you guys out there with fantasies yet unfulfilled. All I’d remind you is that no one leaves this life thinking to themselves, “Man, I really wish I’d never tried a three-way. That was a waste of time.” But there are an awful lot of people who come to their ends of their lives with a lot of regrets of promises unfulfilled, and adventure unchased. So think about that the next time you sit down to watch internet porn instead of make a connection with a genuine person.

When readers asked me this question back near the genesis of my sex blog, I did admit that I had one fantasy that had long, long gone unfulfilled. I explained that I had a fantasy that’s very much the flip side of one that bottom men have long confided in me (and which I’ve helped come true several times—so you’d think there’d be some good karma coming my way). They want to be tied up, blindfolded, and forced to service as many anonymous top cocks as possible. I, on the other hand, have always wanted to be blindfolded, restrained, and forced to be at the mercy of a bunch of unseen cocksuckers and hungry holes. I’d prefer there be one guy there I knew, pimping out my dick to others. Other than that, I don’t particularly want to see the men climbing on to ride.

The first time I mentioned this fantasy, I had a ton of readers tell me hell yeah! I’ll do that for you!

Still hasn’t happened.

So I thought I’d throw it out there once more, because I believe that the universe has really no way of knowing what an individual wants unless he puts it out there. Maybe it’ll happen. Maybe not.

But I guess the thing is that if I go to the grave and that’s the only fantasy I haven’t checked off my bucket list? Then I’ll have done a pretty good job.

Ask the Mexican donkey.