Monthly Archives: September 2014
As someone who has invested a significant part of her adult life getting in touch with her sexual fantasies, I can attest that sometimes the idea doesn’t always translate into reality very well.
When we fantasize, we have a very controlled dream playing out in our imagination. Everything is perfect, from how we interact with our fantasy partner, through to what act we consummate in our thoughts. In our fantasies, there are no “stresses” that reduce a man’s ability to get hard, or fumbling with lingerie that looked awesome on the Size 0 model in the catalogue (honey, it hooks up on this side) … no wet spots in the middle of the bed.
Our imagination eliminates the reality from the setting we want to play out. The sanctity of our mind allows for sexual perfection.
From a personal perspective, I’ve been wildly lucky in being able to turn some of my own fantasies into realities. A couple experiences left me with an insane desire to try more, while others left me placing a metaphorical checkmark beside it on the fantasy list in my mind. In all cases, there was a huge leap of faith involved because not only did some require me to trust the strength of my relationship with my husband, but also to move from the depths of my imagination by allowing things I could not control become part of the experience.
One of the biggest considerations to be made when you take that leap from imagination to actuality is how able are you to let go of the controlled idea your fantasy has been. Are you focused on having a threesome, or are you focused on two chiselled studs, their magnificent pectoral muscles glistening with a light hint of sweat in the soft lighting of the Presidential Suite. You see my point? If your fantasy is a threesome, then you stand a better chance of discovering the true joy in the leap from imagination to reality.
But if your idea is so firmly carved in smooth hunky chest muscles and pristine 900-thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, you may be setting yourself up for disappointment.
It took me a few false starts to allow my fantasy life come closer to reality; but once I accepted that it wasn’t the romance novel in my mind that mattered, but the opportunity to experience something less controlled but still sexually charged, my fantasies blossomed into something far more spectacular.
If you have been following along for the past 10 months, you’ll know that this year has been a challenging one for me in terms of my sexual adventure. Following a rather dramatic – and life-altering – surgery last December, I have been on a constant roller-coaster ride in terms of my sexuality and libido.
But, this past weekend, during a brief moment of intimacy with my husband (always a challenge with two active teenagers in the house regardless of personal battles with my libido demons), we started reminiscing about our sexual relationship and discussing how it has evolved from the days when we were first dating.
It’s surprising – or maybe not – how in-tune you become as a couple; and how certain things become an almost subconscious part of a relationship. As we recognized a window of opportunity to get a little busy between the sheets, a most uncanny thought popped into my head: not only has our sex life evolved into one with “certainty” but also the small details in the seduction have been replaced with routine and guarantee.
So, when I say “guarantee” I mean, in those early dating days, sex was never an absolute. There was still an element of the unknown; would the seduction erase any hesitancy? Sex, somehow, seemed a bit more powerful back then. Withholding wasn’t a method of battle, but rather a tactic to push the desire and intrigue a little harder.
And because there were no guarantees, the effort to sway the libido was … different.
I’m certain I’m not alone in this pondering curve along the long road of a relationship; I just found it a moment of pause in recognizing how we have reached a point of sex being a “for sure” thing.
Having owned that realization has now helped me move a little further towards reconnecting with me as a sexual being, and identifying where some flames need to be relit.
I know for some guys, it can be a touchy subject. As a woman – and I have said it before – there’s a lot more at stake than just having an anaconda between your legs. If a guy has all the packaging, but none of the emotional substance, then it’s not going to be a very fun experience.
I would also be lying if I said size doesn’t matter on the opposite side of that too. Sex is an experience made much more pleasurable if I can feel a man probing the inner limits – both physically and emotionally. But, keep in mind, a woman’s vagina isn’t a 10-inch deep cavern of sexual thrills; the nerve centre sits only about 2-inches inside, and the vagina “expands” to accommodate a man during intercourse.
That said, I’ve never had a man that was too large, nor a man who was too small.
If you want the bottom line from my perspective – talent, skill, confidence – if you bring all that to the mattress, you’re probably big enough for me. Other women, however, seem to have somewhat different ideas: