Daydreams

[stewie69 (imported)]

I've always had penectomy fantasies. While at work today, I was talking to a few attractive female coworkers, and somehow found myself wondering what I'd feel like if I were in the presence of such lovely women after my penis was cut off. How badly would my balls ache, knowing they weren't going to get the release they desired?

One of the ladies in the group stirred another fantasy as well. I consider myself straight, yet I've always been very intrigued by beautiful pre-op T-girls. My coworker is very pretty, but built a little on the athletic side. I started imagining her naked - with a penis! I imagined sucking the cock of this lovely woman. (Not that I wouldn't perform similar favors on her current equipment )

[strassenbahn (imported)]

The great thing about fantasies is that they are free and fun. For instance, my principal fantasy is of a magical machine (looks much like a CAT scanner) that would turn me into a GG -- actually changing the chromosomes to XX, shrinking my stature, widening the hips, giving me a totally female "feel" for life. Sub-fantasies (seemingly contradictory, but not really because in the world of fantasy everything goes) include being a (regular) bride, being a bride in a total-female-bondage society (wedding with ball gag and single sleeve), being a c0-bride to another woman in an all-female world (no butches, just lipstick lesbians), being a female model to a porno studio specialized in pregnancy and/ or breast abuse videos or "chilly girl videos (see www.chillygirls.com)...

OR

being a male who calles up a company called "Geldings are Us" with the following exchange:

"Hello"

"Hello, is that 'Geldings Are Us?"

"Yes, it is. How can we help you?"

"I have your number from a friend who is a very satisfied customer of yours whom you gelded. I'd like to book a castration and penectomy.'

"No problem. What date would you like. We have an opening next Tuesday at ten.

"That would be fine. Castration and penectomy. We look forward to seeing you."

This second fantasy exists in parallel to the first one, since I would continue to be outwardly male but totally emasculated, unlike the prior fantasy of actually turning into a Ggg (and maybe having a baby!)

My point is that the world of fantasy is a wonderful thing. I hope you enjoy your own fantasies to the max!

[bobover3 (imported)]

A fantasy that came true -

Years ago, before anyone had heard of AIDS, I used to go to a pornographic movie theater near Times Square in NYC. Such theaters used to be common in large cities before the advent of videos or the internet. Most people ignored the conventional porn on the screen. It was really a place that men (I never saw a woman there) went to meet strangers and engage in extraordinary and "perverted" sex - in plain sight in the theater.

All sorts of wonderful psychological oddities were put on display - one regular liked to sneak up behind other men, masturbate, and ejaculate on their shoulders (you needed to keep an eye open, just in case); another regular would break into loud cackling laughter, heard throughout the theater, and release his urine, which would flow in a stream down toward the front of the theater; one black guy with the biggest dick I've ever seen (when he was seated, his erection went past the middle of his chest - it must have been near 18 inches) used to sit silent in the front row, erection soaring, hands behind his head, and a smile on his face, waiting for people to approach and service that huge dick, which they did, sometimes lining up.

I could write an essay about all I saw in that theater. It was thrilling to know there was someplace you could go to leave behind the false constraints of normality and propriety, and enter a world of sexual fantasy indulged. Every visit was an adventure. Afterwards, I had to launder my clothes to get rid of the odor of semen that covered everything in the theater. Alas, there's no place like this now, it would be a health hazard.

Anyway, getting back to that fantasy realized -

Three transsexual prostitutes used to work the theater. These were huge black men/women, over 6 feet tall, big boned and powerfully built. They were dressed and made up in the most alluring, feminine manner. Only their size and their aggressive self-confidence betrayed their ambiguous gender. They always showed up together and caused a ripple in the audience. "The trans-sexuals are here" was the delighted whisper through the theater. They would glide gracefully among the men, offering blow-jobs for $10 or $5 (more money then than it is now). I was scared of them because of their obvious power, so I always politely declined their offers, despite feeling a deep attraction. Except once, I worked up the nerve to say yes. A drop-dead gorgeous trans-sexual, built like a line-backer, descended on my groin, yanked my pants open, clutched my balls, and devoured my dick. I've never again experienced anything like it. Usually, a man being fellated is in the dominant position. In this case, I felt helpless and used. My semen was taken from me by force. I was utterly exposed and vulnerable. I was literally in the hands and between the teeth of a powerful stranger who didn't even pretend to like me. It lasted only a minute or two, and it was among the paramount sexual experiences of my life. Afterwards, the prostitute drifted away in silence, looking for her next customer, while I sat there quivering. This had been a fantasy of mine, and just this once it came gloriously true.

What I wouldn't give to go back there! The site where the theater used to be is now occupied by a chrome and glass delicatessen. Sic transit gloria.

I hope nothing I've written offends anyone here. What that theater taught me, in the most direct and practical way, is the fluidity of the sexual imagination, and its refusal to be contained within the bounds of "respectability" and "normality." It taught me that in an area of life so wholly private and conducted out of the public eye, no one really knows what's normal. What people say to pollsters and researchers may bear no resemblance to what they do or what they want to do. Sex is one of the final redoubts of privacy against conformity. It creates a democracy of the imagination. We need conventional heterosex to propagate the species, but the great surplus of sexual energy unconsumed by making babies is free to wander.

[chilliwilli (imported)]

To bad places like those don't still exist. I remember when the bath houses were closed in SF.

Chilli-

[gunpowdercub (imported)]

the BigTop was my favorite. It provided me my first longer term playmate and the most earthshattering blowjob(s). Understand, I don't like a guy's mouth on my dick. But one night, this bearded young puertorican cub-like guy just wouldn't take "no" for an answer. As is happened, i was on a banquette that was too high for my feet to reach the floor, something I regretted...as you will see. He was aggressive, holding me down and taking my dick, working on my nips. Not so unusual... until he started lightly scraping my dick with his teeth. And slowly increasing the pain. He slowed down a little when I asked him too, but in about 20 minutes or so his talented teeth worked a superior load from me.

If it had stopped there... it would have been unremarkable. Instead, he just crouched, with my sore dick in his mouth, let the refractory period start...and then he started sucking again. I was young, and impertinent enough to oblige, getting hard again fairly fast. This time, he started a little rougher with his teeth... and again.... 20 minutes later or so... he was rewarded... but my poor cock was, i thought, done for the night...but he just crouched, dick in mouth, and waited. Perhaps a little longer... maybe not. He started again, and every lick, every scrape, was painful... but not too painful. I was asking him to stop, but in the position i was in... I could not stop him... and dammit, he knew just what to do to get me hard again...and every nerve was electric, feeling every light scrape of his teeth, and he started to get rougher, really trying to get that third orgasm...and the nip stimulus helped put me over the top a third time. This was an orgasm I felt like an earthquake... it felt as if he was ripping the cum outta me somehow. He did not stop sucking and the contractions tore my abs and he still didn't stop milking me until I punched him repeatedly in the head, since it appeared he was temporarily deaf.

There was no way to brace myself to lift his head off my cock, and lemme tell ya, the torn abs were so painful I couldn't laugh, twist, bend... or carry my damn suitcase home for thanksgiving... and i tried grabbin his hair, but it was too short...the only way was to punch him hard. It worked.

I'm glad he wasn't angry for it, because as much as it hurt it was also thrilling. Didn't get hard for a week, maybe longer.

Oh, and this guy wasn't a keeper. He was heading home to his wife and kids, of course, and just stopped off for a snack.

[bobover3 (imported)]

Oh god, the bath houses! It's making me hard just thinking about it!

The closest thing I know of now is the jack-off clubs. 50-100 guys in a big room, naked except for shoes. No oral, no anal. You're only allowed to masturbate other guys who let you. This is within the health codes, so it can't be shut down. (They're shut down sometimes anyway, because there are people who break the rules. What floors me is the thought of the health inspectors who must work "undercover" to spot violations. For the right guy, that would be a dream job!) There's one such club in NYC, and several similar clubs around the country. For info, go to http://www.nyjacks.com/jxindex.html#

[bobover3 (imported)]

The Big Top sounds familiar, but I'm not sure. Was this in NYC? I remember one place with a small stage where one or two guys would put on a "show," surrounded by seats on three sides. The men in the audience often got into the act by doing their own things in full view. Once, I was just masturbating, when the guy next to me decided to give me a blow-job. Since the stage lights extended to the two rows of seats, everyone could watch, and I noticed that lots of people were watching me instead of the stage. I got into the spirit of show-biz, and became as loud and openly passionate as I could. Was this the Big Top? The same place had other rooms - one room with a Western theme, etc.

Your experience sounds grand. I don't know if I could have taken it three times, especially at 20 minutes each! Well, like Nietzche wrote, "what doesn't kill us makes us stronger." You must have had a dick of steel. Congratulations!

[bobover3 (imported)]

Wasn't the Big Top on the west side of 8th Avenue, between 42nd and 43rd streets? If we're talking about the same place, I only remember straight sex there. Maybe I missed something. The place I described in post #7 was right across the street, on the east side of that block, on the second floor. It was much lower profile than the Big Top. There was a guy on the street who asked you to come up if you looked suitably bent, and a small wall sign. There's now a fast food joint there, and I think the Big Top was replaced by a Duane Reed drugstore. Sob!

[A-1 (imported)]

Interesting discussion, I have no direct experience, but I have read of these places when researching the AIDS epidemic and that era in history. The blending of gender characteristics is exciting to some but unsettling to others in the same way that some like rollercoaster rides and some do not.

SEX, is as you have all observed, a immediate gratification and an escape from reality that is addicting and at the same time, usually not an immediate life-jepordizing experience. It can provide a momentary escape from reality that is wonderful like no other can be.

Not to throw cold water on this discussion, so to speak, but there has to be some sort of social responsibility to self, partner and society. There is a need to self to be responsible with its use or it does lose significance, except as a good memory of a wonderful time. Sex when looked at in such a manner can set the world into perspective.

Perhaps nothing is as good, but knowing that because you have been responsible to all of the entities I mentioned above, and because you have taken care, that you can repeat the experience almost any time that you please.

I would only wish for all that your pleasures in this life, no matter how fleeting, were repeatable for you and your fondest memories are those that you experience every day. However, many times, even with the same partner, your memories are a part of your youth, and it is not possible to recapture the experience completely except in memory.

One could seek a younger partner, but it does not change one's age and the impossibility of being young again.

"The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time..." (James Taylor lyrics)

Daydreams are, after all, fantasies...

[bobover3 (imported)]

A-1, all this happened before AIDS, as already mentioned. I don't think any of it was irresponsible to "self, partner, or society." If you think it is, from anything other than the standpoint of someone who dislikes "roller coaster rides," you'll need to explain.

Far from harming my self, I greatly enriched my experience of life. I obviously had no "partner." I was a young single man, with no plans to have a "partner." Another benefit of roller coasters is that hangers on tend to fall off.

That "society" was harmed seems to me laughable. The ethic of my time was that anything that made the guardians of respectability uneasy must be a good thing. In fact, that's still my ethic. Societies progress because of the eternal tension between the conservative forces of conformity and order and the creative forces of experimentation and disorder. Both are indispensible to a healthy society, and both are at their worst when they indulge in clucking disapproval of the other side.

I don't think *anyone* has said that sex is "

immediate gratification and an escape from reality.

" This is you, moralizing. The experiences we've discussed here couldn't be more real, just as real as you walking arm in arm with your Lady through a park with violin music. I believe these experiences were closer to reality than the rituals of conventional courtship. This is so because these people were acting from their hearts, from their deepest feelings, with no thought of seeking official approval. I've written that no one really knows what's sexually normal because sex is not public behavior. People acting from passion are real. People doing what's expected are only conforming. Far from being an escape from reality, these were flights *toward* reality, even if it's a reality that frightens you.

Immediate gratification? If a married heterosexual couple fucked, why is this any the less "immediate gratification"? Are you saying that married heterosexuals seldom engage in sex, as an expression of their superior morality?

We agree that it sucks to grow old, even for right-thinking heterosexuals. Is it wrong to occasionally review happy memories?

I'd suggest everyone would be happier not attempting to elevate their personal tastes into moral prescriptions that it's their duty to impose on others.

Remember "Change You Can Believe In"? Change I could believe in would be a world in which "cocksucker" was no longer a pejorative.