Even Better Than The Real Thing
I have a fabulous imagination. It keeps me entertained with dirty thoughts any time I want — which is amazingly useful in meetings, through with a high potential embarrassment factor — and every now and then it helps me come up with ideas for writing.
But overall, it helps me out in the bedroom. Sometimes, if you need that extra push to make it to orgasm, fantasizing can be the way to do it. Heck, plenty of times just mentally augmenting whatever is actually taking place by playing it up in your head can help out, too.
But then there are the times that, either in retrospect of when presented with the reality of the situation, that my imagination is, in my opinion, more of my enemy than my friend.
Situations where it’s the idea of what’s taking place, more than the reality, for example. Kisses and teeth on the neck, nails down the back, fingers and mouths on or in naughty partsr, the first slow slide or hard thrust of naughty parts connecting (how sad that I’m kinda turning myself on writing this super-vague description) — all of these actions can be better in anticipation or recollection than they were or are in reality.
Whenn I think back on a sexual encounter, my brain sifts through what it remembers and enjoyed and throws it to the forefront — making me think more fondly of an experience, and it makes my body attune to that person… at least until reality overrules hormones and gets to point out the facts over the fantasy.
Every now and then, however, nothing can rescue a bad experience. That’s when all you can remember is the fact that he pinched holy hell out of your nipples without even finding out if you like pain; that he stirred instead of fucked, or that he started out like the Energizer bunny and just sped up from there; or that he uttered some awfully strange phrases while it was going on; or that you just kinda lay there, feeling bored and kinda uncomfortable, while he or she laboured above you… dear Gawd, my sex life sounds pathetic.
Granted, these are usually few and far-between occurances — even for me — but I think that we’ve all had those crappy nights — or partners — we’d love to forget. Or, make them into a really horribly experience with which to regale our friends. Hey, you have to get something out of the evening, no?
Of course, anticipation is fantastic foreplay, and can help make an average experience into a much better one. Finally getting to see/taste/touch the naughty bits of the person you’ve been lusting after for however long can make every touc, lick, kiss or other action word that much more intense, and the experience of that touch becomes more heightened and appreciated.
At least, that’s how it works for me, in ideal situations — I’m hot for him, he’s hot for me, we’ve both been working towards this, and I ijust want to feel that … right… there… almost… perfect!
But maybe it’s different for you.