Beyond My Control: Forbidden Fantasies in an Uncensored Age (11 page)

T o o m u c h o F a g o o d T h i N g

Sometimes, I think the whole world is masturbating. Is that a good thing or bad? Does it say we are healthy for being free to own our bodies and find pleasure in them or is it a sad comment on our times, when so many people living alone prefer online chat to the sweetness and camaraderie of a physical partner?

Less than a hundred years ago, people would more likely die of starvation than obesity. Th tables have turned. I read to- day that the government of Japan is now enforcing mandatory measuring of waistlines. Do the following two testimonials of Guido and Reese imply that at some point, the government may intervene and place restrictions on the time allowed to our masturbation?

Guido

Guido, a forty-six-year-oldman, believes hissex lifebeganwhenhismotherstarted breast-feeding him as an infant. Though she stopped breast-feeding him at the age of two, he remembers at the age of four still wanting to suck her “pointed breasts,” and because of his insistence, she finally conceded and agreed to it.

At the age of fourteen, I masturbated a lot, and my aunt caught me looking at a picture of a woman in her bra. My aunt said if I like bras, she would give me a bra to play with and produced a nice padded 36C cup. My aunt never told my mom, but I told her that I liked bras and tits, and she said that was natural.

Ever since then, I have masturbated with a bra. My mom was a 36B, and my aunt was eventually a 36D. I am single, but I have had plenty of girlfriends, but they always tire of me jerking myself off, and it’s not long before we break up.

I still have fantasies of sucking a girl’s tits full of milk, and while I’m sucking, she jerks me off, and I shoot my load in her bra, which she puts on and then rubs the cups so her milk and my juices mix.

One fantasy I have is with this girl, Talia, at her log cabin in the woods. When I arrive, she is dressed only in a bra and g-string panty and is wearing a cowgirl hat. She lights the candles, as they have cut her power, and we kiss on the couch. After passionately kissing, she gets up and takes off her panties. I am hard and take my shirt off and my denims and sit on the couch. She notices I have a big hard-on and then asks me to undo her bra, which I do. She has very pointed tits, and while we eat, her nipples get erect. After the main meal, she serves ice cream and chocolate wafers. I put some ice cream on her tits and lick it off. She pulls the g-string down in front and jerks me off, and I cum into her bowl of ice cream, which she mixes and then eats it all up.

Reese

Reese is a small-framed, sixty-five-year-old gay man who, through the miracle of the internet, has become a “super-hot eighteen-year-old blonde chick with over thirty of the hunkiest boyfriends in the world.” He grew up in a small mid- west town with a construction worker father, stay-at-home mother, and three macho older brothers who couldn’t understand why he continuously stole his younger sister’s dolls.

My first sexual experience happened when I was twelve with a neighborhood boy, Robby, my age but much larger. He threatened to tell the kids I was a cocksucker unless I agreed to give him a blow job.

It seemed like a strange way to prove my heterosexuality, but it began a love/hate relationship with bigger, aggressive men. I sometimes still masturbate to the memory of servicing Robby.

My favorite fantasy in high school was having the hottest gym coach coming into my room wearing only pajama bottoms while I’m in bed naked. He lies on top of me, begins kissing me, and says if I give him what he wants, he won’t hurt me. I feel his hard cock grinding me. He pulls down his pajama bottoms, spreads my legs with his, then begins entering me. I would usually cum by then.

Most of the relationships I’ve had were with married men. They were fun at first, but by the mid-’70s, I accepted that love wasn’t going to happen for me and in my mid-thirties developed an alcohol problem. After being arrested for lewd conduct during a drinking binge, I went into rehab, which is where I met my best friend. She’s married to a well-known news personality, and I became his p.a. until I retired two years ago.

With so much free time, I’d been masturbating to the hot ads online, but then I placed an ad to attract just what I wanted. Kazzam! I became JH (short for Jim Hollander, the hottest boy in my high school in 1960). Jim Hollander was now looking for a muscle daddy to dominate him, someone much older, 25–45. Men were offering money, some persistently. But I’m not that kind of boy. Bi/gay men were all about sex, and I was too young and nervous to actually meet any of them.

Then, I became Kristy, a blonde, eighteen-year-old future pro cheerleader/supermodel/nursery school teacher looking for a strong, dominant, handsome older man, 25–45.

With the constant stream of pictures my nephew’s wife emails of their super-hot daughter, Sam, I had plenty of proof I was real. The first picture I posted was just my head cut off above my cunning smile, revealing flowing blonde hair and a flawless body in a one-piece.

The response was awe-inspiring. Gorgeous hunks said they’d leave their wives for me. If my grandniece, Sam, only knew; I mean, she has a cute boyfriend in high school, but really.

My #1 boyfriend now is Dave, a pro football player. Being that I’m a cheerleader, I look up the rules online. We’ve been chatting for over a year. He keeps wanting to meet and talk on the phone. I finally had to admit that I’m only sixteen and can’t talk because my father’s very strict and checks my phone bill when he pays for it. Daddy would kill me and have Dave arrested if he ever found out. Dave’s willing to wait. So am I. We keep sending each other pix. He’s the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. I even got him to take some pix of his beautiful cock and send them to me. I can’t tell you how many orgasms he’s given me. Of course, I’m too shy to take x-shots. He can’t wait till I’m old enough so he can hold me in his arms, and I tell him that will be incredible.

We’re perfect for each other. Both our fantasies are about him dominating me. His weirdest one is where I’m surfing in Hawaii and a great white shark starts circling me. The shark starts pulling my surfboard, with me on it, out to sea. Seeing this, Dave rides in on his jet ski, jumps on the shark, and rips the shark’s eyes out with his bare hands. Dave, covered in shark blood, takes me back to his beach hut, where I repay him for saving my life. My fantasies are often about him taking me in public places.

I know I now spend about as much time online as I do in the real world, anywhere from six to twelve hours a day. Lots of times I plan to go out but end up getting too involved chatting with several of my many gorgeous boyfriends.

I admit I’m a little jealous of Kristy. But when I’m her online, I love these studs trying to get me, sending any picture they can to seduce me. I love that they don’t give up, even when they find out I’m underage and

can’t meet them for two years. They must be enjoying the fantasy, too. Not being able to have me probably really gets them going. My guess is, they don’t want to blow the fantasy either. In reality, it’s doubtful any of them would work with my grandniece. Sam’s a great girl, but she’s not Kristy.

Without the Internet, none of this would’ve ever happened. When I’m not online, I may be more depressed than when I was working. I have an addictive personality, but I know I’m not ready to stop. If it gets really bad, I’ll probably go for help. But right now, I’m enjoying the ride.

Stefanie

When i asked Stefanie, a beautiful, asian twenty-three-year-old, how the inter- net has affected her sexual fantasies, she looked at me, askance. many young people today are too young to have formed a sexual fantasy without the influence of the internet.

I don’t think I ever had a sexual fantasy till I went online. I was twelve. I didn’t really think about sex. But after so many times of being told, “Don’t go online—it’s dangerous. You’ll chat with perverts,” of course, I had to go online. It was really hot looking at the men-meeting-women sites. Online, I almost only look at Asian men. But when I was sixteen, I dated a blond American guy with a Swedish background, and that was it—those are the kind of guys I like to date. For some reason, I still prefer masturbating to Asian men online, but I grew up in Northern California and really only get turned on to sex with Americans. I don’t have an accent, and I like being with a guy who doesn’t have one either. I love my parents, but I hate their accent. They sound like Asian

tourists. It’s such a turn-off thinking of having sex with a guy saying: “You likey? Is okay?”

In this day and age, besieged by mounting pressures to take charge of our lives, is it any wonder that so many people build to orgasm imagining that they are being taken, overwhelmed: “Beyond my control!” When did it start, this pervasive desire of both men and women to dream of being free of responsi- bility and to put in its place a “power greater than they de- manding submission”?

As Rachel says: “I am so tired, so weary of responsibility and for everything and everyone. Oh, to be laid down and given plea- sure! One more task, one more responsibility, and I’ll scream! I need a power greater than my own to demand that I let go. I can’t remember the last time I let some sweet somebody work me over. Oh, for the soothing orgasm, that sweet feeling build- ing up—then letting go!”

As the pressures of our world increase, so do our desires to be coddled, pampered, controlled, disciplined, held once again in strong arms.

To Stefanie, her parents’ accent makes them “the outsider,” “the Asian tourists,” threatening by association her own accep- tance in her world, expulsion from the garden. To some degree, our parental figures are ever present. Because of our heightened sensitivity to what we perceive as their character flaws, we don’t usually fantasize about our parents, but perhaps this is why, as turned off as Stefanie is to Asian accents, online she almost ex- clusively fantasizes of Asian men.

Our next four young men show that our desires are complex, a mix of submission and domination. Does the submissive part- ner never yearn to control or the dominant figure never long to be held/controlled/disciplined again under the loving care of mother and father? “Act like a man.” “Don’t cry like a girl.” The boy’s outward persona is shaped, carved by well-meaning care- takers. But our deepest desires haven’t disappeared, only pushed farther into the recesses of our mind. We live in denial, hiding the fact that the need to be dominated, taken care of, is as natu- ral as the desire for independence and control.

Steve

Steve, a seventeen-year-old, will soon be graduating from high school.

I’ve been masturbating since I was about thirteen or fourteen. My current practice is to straddle the lip of the toilet in my bathroom and bring the seat down and hook the thumb of my left hand around it so that it digs into the sensitive area just above my pubic hair. Then, with my right hand, I stimulate myself in time with my thrusts.

With my masturbation, my fantasies also evolved. My first fantasy was to visualize women from the Victoria’s Secret online catalog. But then my fantasies started to get interactive. I visualized myself actually screwing women. My fantasies always seem to include an older woman. The reason for this is first off because that was the well of images I had to draw from, but there was another reason. I was about fifteen at the time. I had the day off from school and was just channel surfing when I came across a talk show. The topic was a seventeen-year-old kid who for the past four years had been having an affair with a forty-year-old woman. The idea so turned me on that I masturbated three times during the length of the broadcast.