<< Dec 2009 The inexplicable fantasy Friday, November 13th, 2009 - 10:35 am
I can't imagine that I'm the only one who does this, but it does seem rather a peculiar trait that I've not heard anyone mention before - let me explain.
For many years now I have, on occasion, created a very intense fantasy based around a person with whom I would *never* *ever* enter into any kind of physical "relations" in real life. Whether they're too old, too young, too ugly, too married - who knows, but that element of the forbidden (or even just of the distasteful or unlikely) adds a spice to a sexual fantasy that is completely unique. This is especially prevalent with someone who you've precluded for the physical appearance reasons, as social constructs, such as marriage, are not necessarily challenging your own desires.
Perhaps it's a perverse form of mental or sexual self-harm, or perhaps it's just a little talked of sexual deviancy. All I know is that I have at least three regular masturbatory-fantasy men whom I would never dream of fucking in real life (I don't think) but with whom I do the most obscene things in my mind some nights. If any of these fantasies spring to mind when I'm in the presence of the man in question I can barely look them in the eye and either dissolve in giggles or stuttering blushes. Luckily I manage to keep these thoughts fairly well boxed on most occasions, otherwise I'd get myself a reputation as a village idiot or some kind of nympho with a crush on everyone - don't say a word!
Let's not even get into the more tricky fantasies, which for various legal reasons I'd better not talk about, but which would get me into real actual trouble if I indulged them in real life. I'll let you use your imagination on those...
x
~E~
Long Time No See Thursday, November 12th, 2009 - 9:53 am
I was watching Austin Powers a couple of weeks ago and, much as it pains me to recognise even a tiny part of my life in a movie like 'Austin Powers', that is what happened.
It was the silly one where Dr Evil travels back in time to steal Austin's mojo so that Dr Evil will be able to defeat him in the future. Well, long story short, that's kind of how I've felt lately - like someone's stolen my mojo. As bad as things were for Austin, they're just as bad for me: what use is an erotic author with no mojo?
My libido dried up and so did my ideas and my writing and I've just been floundering around trying to ignore the fact that my much-treasured secret life and identity had dried up to a husk and I was just the everyday girl I used to pretend at. A salutary lesson in how we can make make-believe come true? Maybe.
