Sunday, September 10, 2006

The Grass Is Always Greener...

I've shot a bunch of good fantasies to hell in the past four years.

Hmmmm. There must be a better way to put that...

I've turned a number of wonderful fantasies into amazing realities in the past four years.

Yeah! That's it.

But, there's a downside. I've lamented it here before. I'm about to do it again 'cause I'm feeling kind of blah this morning.

Not that I'd have done anything different. Not that even now I'd say NO to making any dream into the real thing. But in living out a fantasy, something is lost - the intensity of the fantasy itself. I miss some of my biggies - the fantasies that fueled my jack off passions for years. If there's a classic piece of literature about this phenomenon I don't know what it is, but there must be one out there somewhere. How about it AAG - (who's read everything - twice) - is there some great book that cautions us to keep our fantasies keen by not living them all out when we get the opportunities?

The biggest of my dreams to diminish something in me isn't sharing Dee - that lives on and I enjoy the reality way more than the thoughts I'd entertained about it. The whopper that took something out of me when I got on my knees for the first time was the fantasy of being with a man. I can't tell you how much semen I sprayed into tissues for years thinking about taking a man into my mouth. Gallons, probably. And every time, practically shaking with excitement from the wickedly delicious thoughts going through my head.

Lest I'm misunderstood, I love sucking cock. I really do. That feeling of a hard dick between my lips, sliding along the length of my tongue, continues to thrill me with amazing sensations. And, licking men's balls, something that was major fantasy fodder in its own right and not just tied into the sucking fantasy, continues to fulfill me sexually in ways that I can't pretend to understand. I literally trembled that first time I reached over to touch a man's stiff cock. Sometimes I still get a little shaky from the excitement of touching and sucking the guys along with Dee. But, I lost the wild call of the fantasy itself.

I can't describe how I used to feel when I'd sit here downloading pictures of guys with stiff cocks, strictly imagining how it might feel to do with them the things I shook with rabid excitement to do. I wanted to work over a man's balls with my lips and tongue until he was oozing a steady stream of precum and nearly begging me to take his cock into my mouth. I wanted to lick the underside of a guy's cock very lightly - for a long time - again, to tease him till he was nearly delirious from the desire to ejaculate. I wanted to deep throat him - to feel my lips pressed firmly against his belly with the entire length of his erection in my mouth. I wanted him to orgasm inside me - in the back of my throat. And I wanted to swallow his semen. For a few years these were my main masturbation fantasies. These were the things I wanted even more than I wanted pussy when I was 15. The desire gripped me more powerfully than anything before in my life ever had.

And now, I've done it all. Every last thing with a cock and balls that I ever dreamed about doing. With more cocks and balls than I ever thought I'd have the chance to lick and suck. With the fantastic fortune to have every "first" I fulfilled in this regard with some really great guys.

But, I sit here to jerk off, (I still do it just about once every day in spite of having this enviable love life.), and when I try to conjure up something to get me really hot and bothered - I'm at a loss. My cock gets hard. My hand feels good. The orgasms are wonderful. But, something's missing. There's nothing going through my head that I'd give anything to have because I've had just about every last thing that I've ever wanted, and the few things that might be left would be novelties at best but not biggies.

Have I learned anything from this? If I could go back and reconsider my choices - to consider in full light of what I know now whether or not to keep the burning desires at peak temperature or essentially to kill them off by making them real, would I make different choices? Hell no!

I sure do miss the magnitude of passion I used to feel for such things, though.

Sigh!

(Yes, I've been getting some mileage out of the Dan fantasy, and you "hear" me chomping at the bit with anticipation on occasion when I'm all hot and bothered about an upcoming date night, but they're variations on a theme rather than a whole fantasy that I've not been a part of before. It's those full symphonies of fantasy of which I have none left.)



There's little brain food to get my cock drizzling
precum copiously when I'm jerking it on a typical day.
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3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Never fear, Joe... Just let the actualities of the hot experiences you're having into the spot usually reserved for those prior fantasies... Hell, blend 'em together into a totally NEW realm of fantasy-land! We all get a LITTLE jaded, no?

Like you (both), I've been able to turn various fantasies into reality over the years, and while they're not ALL mind- and cock-boggling, they've been pretty damned fine overall.

However, I've determined that, for me, stroking Little Muse is even more inspiring when Ms. Muse is around... ('cause she likes it, too!)

Mr. Muse

Anonymous said...

Heya, Joe -- Got this recommendation from a literary pal o' mine, regarding fantasy vs. reality in literature:

"The one writer who really comes to my mind--and she's not an erotic writer--is Angela Carter. I think that most of her fiction centers on fantasies that turn out to be better than their realities, or if not better, then different. Certainly, Nights at the Circus and many of the stories in The Bloody Chamber explore how fantasy informs our understanding of the world, how the fantastic manipulates us, and how the real can be a less spectacular, but ultimately more meaningful, experience."

SheenV said...

I've never been with a guy before, but after reading your description of giving head, you'd be the first that I'd try it with.