Hi, dear reader.Â Today, I’d like to report a change in my typical male fantasy. You know, the one I have when I’mÂ sitting in McDonald’s or the supermarket or the subway and think about sex.Â I have no idea what this change of fantasy means or why it has occurred in such a juncture of my life.Â I seriously doubt that you will understand it, so don’t bother to analyze it unless you have an advanced degree in Neilology.
Let’s begin.Â For many year, my male fantasy involved me being on the bottom, and the woman on top.Â Why am I on the bottom?Â Perhaps it insecurity?Â Who knows?Â My personal theory is that I am voyeuristic.Â When I’m on the bottom during lovemaking, it is like a two-for-one-deal.Â Not only do you get to fuck a woman, you get a free Las Vegas show.Â The woman is like an exotic dancer.Â You can check out her body as she moves.Â You can watch her face, her breasts, her stomach.Â I like this a lot, even though it means I usually have to wear my glasses during sex.
You also have your hands free. Woo-hoo!Â I like to change things up with my hands.Â Sometimes I like to grab her ass.Â Sometimes, especially if a classical music station is on the radio, I imagine I am conducting the New York Philharmonic in Beethoven’s Symphony No. 3 (The Eroica – get it?) while she rides me.
This male fantasy served me well for many a year. Being on the bottom gave me the ultimate control, and the fantasy woman on top, who could be anyone from my wife, a blogger, a waitress at Denny’s, or Meryl Streep, was always satisfied with the way I took my time, extending the session like a Lakers game in overtime, until she was screaming out my name, along with assorted obscenities and pleas to do it again.
Yeah, those were the days.Â Nice fantasies.
But something has changed in my fantasy life since the start of the summer. Is it the economy?Â The Obama administration?Â I have become more aggressive.Â I am no longer conducting music with an imaginary baton in my hands.Â I am ripping the clothes off her body, like some vicious gangster with no respect for woman.Â Ripping off clothes?Â This would make make wife laugh.Â After schlepping to Macy’s with her, standing around for hours while she buys a t-shirt, and then paying for it with my Mastercard, the last thing I would ever do is go home and SHRED the t-shirt into tiny bits, reducing it into a designer rag to wipe the dust off of the television.Â For me to rip off a woman’s t-shirt would mean a desire, a yearning, to expose her breasts and hungrily bite her nipples in the same way that a vampire needs to suck his victim’s blood.Â That is not me.Â Â Or is it?Â How did this happen?Â Am I angry?Â How did I become so selfish in my fantasy life.Â Why does she like it?Â Why does she raise her knees so I can enter her wetness fully, teasing my cock while we kiss.
What makes this fantasy so odd is that it doesn’t seem violent at all.Â We levitate into the air as we fuck, as if we were in outer space, with zero gravity, so the intensity is counter-balanced by the floating, and the anger fades, and we both feel as light as feathers, objects without weight, carefree and beautiful as a warm summer breeze.
um… that levitation thing… do you find yourself wearing a magician’s hat? It’s an interesting switch. Are you going to publish a whole series of these?
Can we analyze them for you and tell you your a wacky man for having fantasies? Thanks for being ballsy enough to share that you have them.
Mm-hmm. I don’t know why, but I think I enjoyed reading this far too much.
What? My husband is in Afghanistan.
I was grinning and applauding and reading this and then you got to the Macy’s part.
Holy hell. You would spend that much? damn.
I’d treat that like gold.. they are extremely proud of their merchandise. Just sayin’ 😉
I don’t know about this, but your reasoning for not shredding the t-shirt is hilarious. Also, I need to find someone who will whip out his MC and pay for my stuff. Stat.
Wishing my husband would hurry the fuck up and finish reading the kids their bedtime stories.
I was waiting for the unicorn to walk into this post, and it never did. Fail.
you are one million kinds of awesome.
Psychological interpretation – perhaps the aggression in your new fantasy is not borne out of anger, but rather an underlying desire to have someone hungrily crave you as much as you do them. The face might change, but the woman in your fantasy likes it. She reciprocates. Perhaps that’s what this is all about — equal reciprocation of desire.
Now if you can tell me why a recurrent dream of murderous, jelly doughnut-eating Smurfs scares the shit out of me a couple times a year, I’d greatly appreciate it.
I’m laughing too hard to comment.
I want a degree in Neilology. And I second Aman. I want a series. I want you to take us deep into the underbelly of the male psyche.
Or maybe I’m just a selfish perv. That’s for me to know.
My husband frequently fumbles for his glasses. Makes me giggle.
That’s quite a fantasy!
“extending the session like a Lakers game in overtime”
This is a common male misconception. I guarantee you that if you did this, she’d be thinking, “My God, will you hurry up already! How long do you think I can keep this up???” If she screams your name, it’s because she’s hoping it will lead things to a conclusion.
Can’t wait to see what google hits you get off this one.
Wait, did I say “get off”?
Not sure you can have aggressive sex whilst hovering in mid-air. You’d bounce around the room like an untied helium balloon, no?
Although, that might be fun….
I’m going on a first date tonight. This was probably not a good thing for me to read right now. ha ha.
I have something in my drafts about ripping of clothing during sex. Hmmmmmmm..
When I watch movies that involve scenes of furious clothes ripping, I get anxious. Like, how are you going to get home when your shirt is shredded and your skirt has been torn asunder? You can’t walk down Main Street like that. And what’s with all of this bra and underwear throwing? Just tossing it around the room like it doesn’t cost $79 per set.
I think I’m too cheap to have fantasies like this.
You are getting more attached to your female hormones… cause I don’t know many girls who wouldn’t want some guy to want them so bad they were ripping ANY t-shirt off in a fit of unbridled passion… just saying.
Oh Neil! Oh Neil! Oh Neil!
Have you ever considered contacts?
Is it wrong that this post made me hot?!
So that’s why my husband insists on wearing his glasses to bed? Hmmm.
I’ve always figured that men like to be on bottom because it’s less work. The boob ogling was just gravy.
Thanks of the visual of you in in full erotica with your glasses on. Dark socks too? Perhaps this is why your mom thinks you’re a nut. Keep writing.
change in fantasy is a good thing. I just have to remember to avoid your posts mid afternoon, when I am shit out of luck as far as fulfilling my own needs.
I need a cold shower. And a new t-shirt.
You? Need to get laid.
HAH. I hate keeping my glasses on too, it’s annoying. And I like being on top because it makes me feel sexy 😉
Now we’ve both shared too much, ha ha ha ha.
(Seriously, I loved it tho)
If I ever met you in person, this would be the first post that would come to my mind. 😉 Its left quite an impression.