last week sometime the TTHM complained that i never write about my sexual fantasies. this, of course, made me bark with laughter. because it’s funny. i mean, really, who wants to read sex fantasies? not me. i only like fantasies that involve me.

but tonight as i drain my last captain morgan and diet coke, i was thinking about sexual fantasies and not just because i’m drunk. i have them, sure. doesn’t everyone? but my biggest, most frequent fantasy. . . well it’s so dull. really quite dull, i’m almost embarrassed to share.

i mean, really it’s just sex. the fantasy part of it is what happens before and after. i always fantasize about the same man. someone i actually know. a younger man with disorganized hair. it’s weird, when you consider that i have an older-than-me man fetish. but for like the last six months, it’s always the same man, the same situation that gets my motor running.

the scenario is almost always the same. we’re involved, fantasyman and me, but for the night he’s out doing something. i don’t know what. . . working, out of town, going to some concert. always something that doesn’t involve me. this is the good part. and i’ve spent the night doing somethign else too, writing, going to class, somethign that doesn’t involve him. and it’s cool. in the fantasy, that’s what’s the coolest. . . that he does his thing and i do mine, then we come together for amazing sex.

and in the fantasy it’s amazing. him crawling into bed, after i’ve already been asleep, curling up next to me, apologizing for the lateness of his evening, kisisng me between my shoulderblades, teasing me about my lack of sleeping clothes.

then the amazing sex.

then the post-coital cuddling that i SO miss. so so so miss. and that’s it. you know, falling asleep with him mumbling about how fucking fabulous i am.

dull, i know. there’s no ropes or kinkiness. but it’s my favorite of all fantasies.