It's only a Fantasy
There are days when I think about: a woman I've known; met only in passing; is a familiar stranger that I pass regularly in my commute to my office; one I've only seen in passing once for a brief moment; chatted with textually with or without benefit of any picture; or women I've merely seen pictures of on the internet. I'm not sure if its the smell of madeleines or some chemical mixup or a wire frying in my brain, but my brain shifts gear from the real world to a nether region of its own, and my lower head lets out the reins so the dogs of war can emerge, sucking more than the usual share of blood from the system. I'm not really sure what causes these episodes, a FA's petit mal seizures of horniness when some image, smell, texture erupts unexpectedly but not unpleasantly(unless the situation is one where it can't be played out either mentally or physically or both), and makes me focus on some amazingly wonderful woman's charms. While the attraction may be everything from a smile, a pretty double chinned face, ample bosomry or other physical charms, a special belly proclaiming the SSBBW'ness of its possessor, is often the entry ticket to this private Shangri La of my mind.
It is not unusual that my fantastic voyage through the theater of my mind will wend its way from spectacular belly to belly, like a belly lover's Wheel of Fortune, until it slows and settles on one special woman and her equally special belly. And then, the fantasy will spring into action and play itself out in the private theater of my imagination, my hands and body feeling the sensations of that body on my hands and body like some amputees ghost itchiness from a missing limb. Often, the experience progresses essentially independently in my mind and my penis on different levels. As my brain processes the wonders of the belly in question and all the features, shapes, textures, heaviness and receptiveness to my touch into a full blown fantasy, the smaller head runs rampant, flashing mental images and scenarios onto the big screen in the back of my brain.
It is incredible to me how vivid these mental images and scenarios can be and how wonderful the private reflections and ministrations recreate an event which has never taken place and may never occur. However, as wonderful and satisfying as this is, it is only the palest of echoes of the real thing.
It is not unusual that my fantastic voyage through the theater of my mind will wend its way from spectacular belly to belly, like a belly lover's Wheel of Fortune, until it slows and settles on one special woman and her equally special belly. And then, the fantasy will spring into action and play itself out in the private theater of my imagination, my hands and body feeling the sensations of that body on my hands and body like some amputees ghost itchiness from a missing limb. Often, the experience progresses essentially independently in my mind and my penis on different levels. As my brain processes the wonders of the belly in question and all the features, shapes, textures, heaviness and receptiveness to my touch into a full blown fantasy, the smaller head runs rampant, flashing mental images and scenarios onto the big screen in the back of my brain.
It is incredible to me how vivid these mental images and scenarios can be and how wonderful the private reflections and ministrations recreate an event which has never taken place and may never occur. However, as wonderful and satisfying as this is, it is only the palest of echoes of the real thing.
posted by hugehugefan at 7:23 PM
1 Comments:
what a beautiful post. I too have a rich fantasy life and understand exactly what you're talking about. I find myself gazing at men on the subway, when I used to take the subway, I see men on the street, in the store, at work, and my mind conjures up images of the ones I find attractive,(and even ones I don't!), what it would be like to be with them sexually, how wonderful it would be to just be able to act on that primal urge, get down on my knees and unzip their pants without even saying hello. :-) but you're so right. even though the fantasies can be so vivid, and the physiological reactions to them make them seem so real, and whether they will or won't ever occur, you know they can never really measure up. if only we could make love telepathically. but, then again ... I think we can. :-)
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