"Lines You Don't Cross--Places You Don't Go"
The other day, when he was over for a brief stint, Lucky Bastard kept pressuring me to tell him about my sexual fantasies.
I never discuss my sexual fantasies with someone who is not a constant and significant part of my life. Even then, there are some things I do not discuss. It's a matter of trust. Therefore, someone who is not well acquainted with me does not deserve the privilege of knowing my fantasies--especially if I get the whiff that he might be trying to feed his own fantasies with mine.
Some aspects of who I am are best kept private. Fantasies are part of that.
From years of therapy and living my own vida loca, here's the wisdom on fantasies: when we try to take sexual fantasy and transform it into reality, the result is usually not what we expected. In fantasy we have control over the feelings, reactions, and actions of others. In the real world, we do not. Human beings are notoriously unpredictable, and there are always "wild cards." Acting on a sexual fantasy can, at the least, end up being a disappointment, and, at the most, result in some kind of injury. Weighing the risks over the rewards is very important and never act if there are too many unknowns.
I have experienced too many dangerous unknowns and, as a result, learned to divide my sexual fantasies into two distinct compartments--the Realm of Possibility and the Realm of Improbability. The fantasies in the Realm of Possibility usually have a rose-colored romantic tinge even when they are hot, sweaty, and consist of a good mix of usual and unusual sexual activities. The activities are performed between two people who care for and about one another (pretty normal, eh?)--even if some of the activities themselves push various physical and emotional limits. I am a sexual athlete, fairly well-trained, and I enjoy pushing physical boundaries--but those boundaries will have limits if there are limits on the relationship's emotional component.
Those fantasies in the Realm of Improbability usually involve the humiliation and exploitation of others (or myself) for my own amusement--they are very dark. I would never act on these fantasies, since I do not wish to be responsible for any negative psychological fallout or "wild card" events that would accompany them. The risks far outweigh the rewards in these fantasies, and I consciously choose not to go there.
In most of my life, though, I've never been one to subscribe to the theory that all fantasies are an indication of what an individual desires to occur in reality. I'm a good observer, and know when to say "no thanks." I've always thought it's pretty adolescent to think that whatever pops into your head, however deviant or violent it might be, deserves manifestation. But it troubles me that others believe so strongly in the idea of fantasies as accurate predictors of future realities. Do they believe this because so many adolescents in the 1990's took it upon themselves to act on violent fantasies? Is it because there is a preponderance of talk-show evidence that suggests there are alot of men on the "low down" or indulging in other non-conventional sexual behavior behind the backs of their wives? Is it that, because of the deluge of cheap, easily accessible porn, men have come to believe more than ever that there are women just lolling around all day states of uncontrolled unbridled passion, ready to satiate their every whim?
So, the struggle between fantasy and reality, between maturity and adolescence, finally broke things between Lucky Bastard and myself. He does not understand why sexual fantasies shouldn't be acted on and I refuse to tell him my sexual fantasies. There are good reasons beyond the compelling reason that our relationship is limited. At one time, I went out on a limb and told him some of my more wild sexual adventures. Since then, for some reason, he has nagged the living daylights out of me to re-enact some of those exploits. For me, I've been there and done that, and there are no clear and compelling reasons for encores. Not only that, but he also refuses to sit down with me and discuss where our involvement is going. It has been a full year of ups and downs, and sitting down to dinner is the civilized and gentlemanly thing to do. He refuses, contingent on his supposed social position and family entanglements. But I've been the Mistress of powerful men before, and I do not believe he is any more powerful than any of them, and they were quite gracious.
I told him that I believe he does not have the requisite maturity to continue in an interaction of this kind. I have tried to teach him the reasons why there are lines one doesn't cross and places one does not go in the realm of sexuality, but he refuses to learn.
There are distinct limits to how far a man can push me--even a man I enjoy as much as I do Lucky Bastard. A lack of graciousness and basic gentlemanly consideration usually start to figure into the limits. Pressuring me to set up liaisons to placate his sexual fantasies when he refuses to appreciate that he has experienced more with me in a year than he has in his entire sexual lifetime is another. Nagging me about my sexual fantasies to use as leverage against me or to compel me into behaviors or situations I feel no real need to be part of is another.
You know what they say in baseball...three strikes and you're out.
Three strikes.
Life and
Love
I never discuss my sexual fantasies with someone who is not a constant and significant part of my life. Even then, there are some things I do not discuss. It's a matter of trust. Therefore, someone who is not well acquainted with me does not deserve the privilege of knowing my fantasies--especially if I get the whiff that he might be trying to feed his own fantasies with mine.
Some aspects of who I am are best kept private. Fantasies are part of that.
From years of therapy and living my own vida loca, here's the wisdom on fantasies: when we try to take sexual fantasy and transform it into reality, the result is usually not what we expected. In fantasy we have control over the feelings, reactions, and actions of others. In the real world, we do not. Human beings are notoriously unpredictable, and there are always "wild cards." Acting on a sexual fantasy can, at the least, end up being a disappointment, and, at the most, result in some kind of injury. Weighing the risks over the rewards is very important and never act if there are too many unknowns.
I have experienced too many dangerous unknowns and, as a result, learned to divide my sexual fantasies into two distinct compartments--the Realm of Possibility and the Realm of Improbability. The fantasies in the Realm of Possibility usually have a rose-colored romantic tinge even when they are hot, sweaty, and consist of a good mix of usual and unusual sexual activities. The activities are performed between two people who care for and about one another (pretty normal, eh?)--even if some of the activities themselves push various physical and emotional limits. I am a sexual athlete, fairly well-trained, and I enjoy pushing physical boundaries--but those boundaries will have limits if there are limits on the relationship's emotional component.
Those fantasies in the Realm of Improbability usually involve the humiliation and exploitation of others (or myself) for my own amusement--they are very dark. I would never act on these fantasies, since I do not wish to be responsible for any negative psychological fallout or "wild card" events that would accompany them. The risks far outweigh the rewards in these fantasies, and I consciously choose not to go there.
In most of my life, though, I've never been one to subscribe to the theory that all fantasies are an indication of what an individual desires to occur in reality. I'm a good observer, and know when to say "no thanks." I've always thought it's pretty adolescent to think that whatever pops into your head, however deviant or violent it might be, deserves manifestation. But it troubles me that others believe so strongly in the idea of fantasies as accurate predictors of future realities. Do they believe this because so many adolescents in the 1990's took it upon themselves to act on violent fantasies? Is it because there is a preponderance of talk-show evidence that suggests there are alot of men on the "low down" or indulging in other non-conventional sexual behavior behind the backs of their wives? Is it that, because of the deluge of cheap, easily accessible porn, men have come to believe more than ever that there are women just lolling around all day states of uncontrolled unbridled passion, ready to satiate their every whim?
So, the struggle between fantasy and reality, between maturity and adolescence, finally broke things between Lucky Bastard and myself. He does not understand why sexual fantasies shouldn't be acted on and I refuse to tell him my sexual fantasies. There are good reasons beyond the compelling reason that our relationship is limited. At one time, I went out on a limb and told him some of my more wild sexual adventures. Since then, for some reason, he has nagged the living daylights out of me to re-enact some of those exploits. For me, I've been there and done that, and there are no clear and compelling reasons for encores. Not only that, but he also refuses to sit down with me and discuss where our involvement is going. It has been a full year of ups and downs, and sitting down to dinner is the civilized and gentlemanly thing to do. He refuses, contingent on his supposed social position and family entanglements. But I've been the Mistress of powerful men before, and I do not believe he is any more powerful than any of them, and they were quite gracious.
I told him that I believe he does not have the requisite maturity to continue in an interaction of this kind. I have tried to teach him the reasons why there are lines one doesn't cross and places one does not go in the realm of sexuality, but he refuses to learn.
There are distinct limits to how far a man can push me--even a man I enjoy as much as I do Lucky Bastard. A lack of graciousness and basic gentlemanly consideration usually start to figure into the limits. Pressuring me to set up liaisons to placate his sexual fantasies when he refuses to appreciate that he has experienced more with me in a year than he has in his entire sexual lifetime is another. Nagging me about my sexual fantasies to use as leverage against me or to compel me into behaviors or situations I feel no real need to be part of is another.
You know what they say in baseball...three strikes and you're out.
Three strikes.
Life and
Love
posted by Tish Grier at 1:44 PM
4 Comments:
Damn, you rock so hard. I am rather bummed though, it was fun to read about you batting Lucky Bastard around like a ragged cat toy...
oh, but I'm weak, weak, weak! you never quite know what's going to happen next with *this* situation.
when a guy looks like Robert Redford, it's hard to keep the door closed. I'm just hoping he's learned a lesson.
you never know what'll happen next....
T.
Brava, Tish, for knowing your own mind and standing your ground. If they don't like the rules, let 'em find another game.
Awhile back, I finally got the clue that some of the things I know to do to a man would make most women blanche and run away. So, I will often say "you know, you're free to go at any time...." Sometimes I can still get hung by a pretty face, but, hey, I'm human. :)
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