Fantasies

I have always found it difficult to describe fantasies.

I think it is my definition of what a fantasy is.  To me fantasies are things that could and would never, ever happen.  Things that go against the laws of nature and/or gravity.  So therefore, if I fantasize about something, I usually make up something fantasical as I go along.  There is no reoccuring them or fantasy that I use over and over.

What I think people are describing when they ask me about fantasies is:  What is it that you would like to do sexually that you have not done?

Yet that is an equally difficult question to answer.  I say that because as open, kinky, and wild as I may seem, there are a lot of things I have not done sexually.  And I attribute that to marriage and my ex and not did not view our sexual relationship as a journey, or an evolution.

However, I believe that to really explore yourself sexually, you need to have a regular partner who will take that journey with you and evolve.

So are there things that I would like to do sexually that I have not done?  Yes….everything I have not done.  Most of which I don’t even know exists so hard to describe.

Now, my task was to describe my deepest darkest fantasy or desire that I dare not think of in the light of day nor have I shared with anyone.

The honest answer to that request is:  SUBMISSION

This is my deepest darkest fantasy that I would tell no one about, not even my swinger friends.  This is something personal and sacred.  This is the dark part of me that I want to embrace.  It is my fantasy/desire to be owned, to be a slave, to be at One’s feet.   To be spanked, to be whipped, to be flogged, to be slapped across the face, to be probed, to be used, to be abused, to be treated as an object, to please, to serve, to not think for myself, to have decisions made for me, to have provisions made for me, to be taken care of completely, to be able to put an exalted level of trust in someone.

Well, that is what I think was referred to in the request from my mentor.

Of course there is one other little tiny thing:

There is also the fantasy of falling in love again.  I would never tell anyone that.  I would not never admit that.  I am suppose to be strong, independent, too busy, and bitter to want something like that.

Nor am I suppose to stil fantasize about the grand wedding I never had, but I like to.  Think of the dresses and flowers and table decorations.  I often think the only reason I would ever get married again is to plan a wedding.  Maybe I should be a wedding planner, but then again, I’d be utterly jealous of the couples.

Those things have nothing to do with sex, but still they are fantasies that I would never tell anyone. 

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