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creating a fantasy
creating a fantasy
It has been said that if men want their women to dress like Victoria's Secret models, they need to look like soap opera hunks. This is not entirely true. They just need to be as romantic as soap opera hunks.After that, any thing is possible.
Case in point. I had a lover 20 years ago who had one deep and terrible passion. She wanted to be "ravished by a knight in shining armor on a great white horse."She was very willing to explore many aspects of sexuality, but this one fantasy really got under her skin. I finally decided that I would see what she would do if I made it real.
Now, the horse was easy, I live in wyoming. The armor, however, was a bit more complicated.It had to be King Arther style plate armor, chain mail would not suffice.After calling around to some friends in the movie.theater industry, I got the damn armor.And, being the type a personality I am, I gave it a test run.
First,the damn codpeice is not conducive to sex, it gets in the way, is hard to remove and you do not want your pride and joy anywhere near it without protection, like arctic weight long johns. A latex trojan is no protection from chafing.Second, it is hot and heavy and it soaks up sunlight in the most inconveniant of places. It took a bit of hillbilly engineering, but I managed to get something put togather that was functional, comfortable and wouldn't rip willy out by the roots. And just as an aside, a certain scene in Excaliber is soooo much bullshit.
So, I have the armor, i have the horse, I just neeed to get milady fair to the appointed spot. A note in the right place and it was all set.
At the appointed time, I was ahorse behind a small rise, awaiting my love. The fur was spread on the ground, the wine was chilled, cheese and fruit spread out. And when she arrived, wearing a long white gossamer gown, it was all perfectly togather.She poured a goblet of wine, had a bite to eat. I was waiting for my cue. And when she yelled"Where in the hell are you, asshole."Over the hill I came at a full gallop.I rode down the hill, swept her up on the saddle in front of me(she hit straddle, not side saddle, which should of been my first clue of things going to shit.) and I headed off into the woods for a more private place to have her.
She had other plans.She raised her skirt, leaned over the horses neck, reached behind her to free willy, and impaled herself.Weirdest damn threesome I have ever been involved with, her, me, and the horse.At a walk was good, the pace was right, the pentration was perfect and everything was under control. At a trot, the bouncing made for some wonderful sensations and it wasn't all that rough on the equipment. But, when she grabbed the reins and whipped that poor horse across the ass and into a full gallop, oh shit, oh dear.(don't get ahead of me here).
The horse was at a full gallop, I can't slow him down, she's bouncing on my dick like a pogo stick, and her screams of pleasure echoed across the valley like Bigfoots cry.Campers still tell stories around the campfire. But the noises she made were nothing compared to the ones I made when she FELL OFF THE HORSE and almost took my dick with her. Now, erect penis, overworked, suddenly in contact with hot metal and an saddle horn.I hit a note only bats, rats, and cats could hear. And they all grabbed their dicks in sympathy.
But, Donna was so gratified that I had put so time and effort into her fantsy tht she denied me nothing for months after. And I actually tried to get a refusal out of her there for awhile.
Now, a fantasy that went horribly awry. Another sweet young thing was very into a Tarzan fetish.I figured I could put this togather with a certain amount of planning. So, the swinging vine was easy enough. The getting us both up into the tree took some very careful planning. After consulting an engineer who asked no questions, we got a counteweight rigged that would lift both of us 40 feet up a tree.
so, the stage is set. Sweet young thing is alone in the woods, dressed in pure white and wondering where the hell I am.She gets to the target spot, I let out my best Tarzan yell and swing down to the ground. I sweep her up, release the counterweight and up into the tree we go. So far, it all works.
I neglected to think about how to STAY IN THE TREE.Now, she was well braced, back against the tree and ankles in a notch above, so when she came, she didn't go anywhere. Me, on the other hand, slid 30 feet down the trunk, fell another 10 feet free fall, and landed flat on my ass in a bed of nettles.Tarzan's greatest yell had nothing on mine that night.
After a run to the ER and the medical staff's hilarious speculation on how the wounds occured, since our cover story was about as limp as my dick, it was not a shining moment.But, I tried. And she was my nurse and devoted slave for weeks after. And when the bandages came off, she was very accomadating in making up for lost time.It was nearly worth it.
So, what have I learned. A good fantasy will get you out of a lot of man trouble, a little preparation and fore thought saves a hell of a lot of greif, but most important, ,Murphy's law is applicable in sex and he is a merciless bastard. Research, prepare, trial run. And if all else fails, have major medical.
11/21/2005 9:57 pm
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