I suppose if you are looking for a typical intense fantasy, where I bring you to a vision of delight by describing super-endowed beings who each have five or six climaxes while doing physically impossible things, you will be disappointed. Move along to someone else’s erotica.

What would turn me on?

Back 30 or 20 years ago, when most fetish people had to hide from the real world and from each other much more than they do today, it was hard to find someone who shared your fetish. Hey, if you could find someone to just LISTEN and not run off screaming, you were doing pretty good. There were a lot of us who would “buddy up” into pairs that would “I’ll do your thing if you’ll do mine.” you want a flogging fetish scene? Good luck. You find a rope nut, however, and maybe if you let them tie you up first they would be happy to flog you while you were there.

I am going to imagine a scene that involves me, my friend the doll artist, and one of his creations. Plush dolls aren’t my trip, although I respect those who work so hard on them. I’m not even really that into Dollification, although I can see trying it out for variety.

So what would turn me on? Ah, I like the act of turning other people on! I like the surge of power that comes from turning someone on so much they can’t even think, talk, or walk straight! I’ve always been curious about other people’s fetishes because I like learning what makes them tick, even if I never wind their watch to turn them on!

Aggressive Partner Commanded to Lie Still

Normally, I am an active partner in bed. Not so much as I get older and things don’t work as well, but as a young person I was quite the aggressive, active partner. Men who were nominally gay (or bisexual) often commented that I moved more like a man, with my desire to be on top and to pound away. Not just set the pace – but actually, control the whole motion. A few smaller (or lightweight) men said that they felt like I had removed their penis (or taken it over) and was actually pounding them with it! Men, usually straight men, who preferred a gentler touch were often puzzled by the way I’d grab and manipulate them. (If you haven’t had back alley sex behind a gay bar, the way I move is typical of said place.) Soft, gentle, loving movements don’t come naturally to me, although part of tuning in to someone to please them is learning how to adjust to what the other person wants. Sometimes I wonder why the “gentle touch” guys manage to get off when I’ve hardly touched them at all.

Anyway, I had no car and got rides home with various friends, some of whom I was involved with sexually. One buddy with an extra-tall camper shell on his truck liked to take me in the back and fool around before he took me home. It gets hot in Tucson, and even though the desert temperature drops after dark, I often find it too uncomfortable to be touched once it hits the 70s–80s. (Over 90, forget it!) So one hot night, when he was tired of me pounding him to death, he suggested a little game. He wanted me to lay still. Very still. Deathly still. Not that he was really into necrophilia or anything, but he thought it might be fun to command me to imagine that I was lying on a metal tray in a morgue someplace.

This was a long time before CSI, SVU, or Tom Petty’s “Last Dance with Mary Jane,” so it’s not like we were used to seeing dead bodies on TV. I had to imagine my time in a science lab and apply my thinking to be a cool 60 degrees on a night that was much hotter than that. The metal truck bed (under a light blanket) was a metal tray. And the command was that I should be absolutely still. He would move my limbs when he needed them moved, and I would leave them just where he placed them. (Not to be tried unless you know the range of motion of your partner.) I couldn’t even rock my pelvis in ways that would “grab for a position” and increase my arousal. He was going to stroke me wherever he liked and take me as if I was totally oblivious to the actions he was performing. Of course, because it was “new” it was also exciting. Being commanded to be totally quiet and not aroused made me incredibly aroused. I remember biting his shoulder and making all kinds of “mrph, mrph, mrph” sounds when I came.

Threesomes and moresomes

It always sounds like lots of fun to have more people in bed. Actually, when you consider that the brain commands 80% of what happens sexually, and then there’s a heart, a mind, and an eternal spirit – it gets more complicated than that. I have organized orgies, I have been a dungeon mistress, and I know whereof I speak. When I was single, I went out with men more often than women simply because I didn’t feel up to dealing with the complicated needs of women – courting protocol, emotional needs, etc. I’d love to have had more women partners, but it never worked out. And sometimes men had the annoying habits of not sharing their valued significant other – wife, gf or whatever – but instead, they’d bring along some woman they obviously had little respect for and try to get me to do stunt sex like I was a circus freak. To be asked to share as a third party in a wonderful relationship is one thing, but to be exposed to that! Well!

So playing with a man and his love doll could be quite fun. I could play as if I was actually getting another woman to roll around with, but without all the emotional baggage that normally goes along. No “I’m getting left out,” or “I’m going to go sulk in the next room,” energy. I have a playful side (can you tell, dear reader?) and I would not mind putting my mouth on the silly oversized nipples or brushing my fingers against a soft suede pussy. Because I would be sliding my eyes at the man watching me, feeling the energy of him getting excited, listening to the change in his breathing, knowing that as I entangled myself in the poseable limbs of the doll I would be creeping deeper and deeper into his fantasies.

In fact, why not let him pose me? The fact that I am often aggressive and demanding in bed does not mean that I cannot, at times, be utterly passive. You don’t eat without first building up a hunger, you don’t eat at the East Indian Kitchen every day and expect to still want the saag paneer after a month the same way you did on day one; variety makes for a good taste. Pose me in positions that turn YOU on, have me talk dirty in two sets on voices, my own and one for the doll. It’s too bad you have to treat all photographs as if they will turn up in public at the worst possible times; I hate keeping on lingerie for sexy shots and pulling my hair over my face, but there you go. I need a job that requires certain – decorum shall we say?

Masturbating with Friends

One thing that I miss about being married is the freedom to just be lying down naked with a friend for a good chat. With or without sex. I talk good in a horizontal position. Additionally, I used to dance outcall, back when the only thing illegal was penetration for hire; so if I wanted to dance provocatively while someone “relieved themselves” or if I wanted to rub their back and thighs with lotion or oil while they told me all their troubles, it was never a problem. I even had a few customers that would pay me to sit next to naked on the couch and watch movies with them, so they could pretend they had a date. (Didn’t bug me much, except that I never got to pick the music or the movie.) The money was never worth the risk of being with strangers, however, and I can’t see just doing this randomly with friends. Well, I have two, or maybe three people that would be more than happy if I came over for a nice jack and jill off session, but when I have to put hubby, job, house chores, and grandkids in front of time with them – it would just lead to trouble. Nobody likes being second best.

About three years ago, I called up an old lover and asked if he’d like to be the secondary relationship. I knew he could do the heavy SM that I needed, and we’d stayed friends & sometimes fuckbuddies after we broke off an engagement many years ago. Even though he knew and liked my husband, he turned me down; he knew his own heart could never tolerate being second-best. Even with the best of communication, he knew that as I put him off for other priorities, he would feel incredible jealousy and finally rage that would destroy what we had. Good fences make good neighbors, says the Robert Frost poem we all learn in high school.

So here I sit, thinking it would be comforting in the short term to go get naked (or next to naked, I like sexy clothes) with friends and play around, but worried that this would just cause turmoil and trauma for all concerned. One of the reasons I like play parties; if you just PLAY at the PARTY, it doesn’t being as much emotional stuff home.

So What Would I Do?

If I went over to play dolls with my friend the artist, I would let him pose me like a doll. I don’t really believe much in hypnosis as portrayed in the media, but I do like being led with suggestion into a mindset, whether it’s a sub-space or this new thing called doll-space. I can be photographed all day long; one old boyfriend used to use an empty camera and studio lights and “play” photography. As a young college student, I was shy, awkward, and frigid even with the person that I thought would be the love of my life. Frustrated, he one day tried telling me that I needed to imagine that it was my job to show people how to have sex. If I didn’t spread my legs and smile like I enjoyed it, then whoever my audience was (whether it was an on-stage thing or an on-camera fantasy he was playing) would NEVER LEARN how to be satisfied. (This trick has always worked ever since. I even have plenty of performer fantasy books & magazines.)

It’s kind of silly to mix the action; I love the idea of getting my friend more and more turned on. We could do a wide variety of “two girls” poses, like the typical one of both of us spread-legged towards the camera, so the viewer couldn’t decide which delicious inside to fling themselves into. Since I really want to play with my friend more than be intimate, I am willing to be cuddled up with him as the inside or outside of a sandwich while he pumps vigorously into the useful part of the doll. I just love the intensity of someone getting off.

Anyway, I think just showing me the art studio is about as far as my friend is willing to go with me. While I am kinky as sin, I don’t need to spoil his relationships or my relationship or any friendship we have with each other. He was really hoping I’d pass along what he was doing to anyone interested in the art, especially if they might want to buy one. I just get turned on by not ungrounded realities – but by practical thoughts. Like, if the doll was laying down face up and I laid over it face down, would he be able to curl around me and penetrate the doll’s vagina while licking and biting my neck? This is where you finally get someone having five orgasms; the last time I was with hubby, I was trying to figure out the practicalities while honey made me come over and over until I was exhausted.

Last Updated on 2 years by pseudonymous