Rejection Fantasies

(Originally appeared on The Freedonian, February 5 2003)

Fantasy #1. “Yesterday’s Dreams”

Every so often I’ll pass a beautiful, young woman on my way into work who looks very similar to many of the young, beautiful women who wouldn’t sleep with me when I was 17.

True story.
—M.R., Oregon

Fantasy #2. “Docile Dominatrix”

“Lick my feet, you son of a stinking bitch!” I screamed at my adult-toddler. He was cowering in my basement dungeon like a helpless, shit-flicking baby. “And do it rough, you ass! Down and dirty!”

“I want to go home now!” my diapered submissive shrieked in a high-pitched voice. “You’re scaring me!”

“Baby no want to lick my shit-stinky feet?” I screamed, slapping my bitch’s bonnet off his pathetic little toddler head. “Baby no like?”

“No, not really,” he replied, now beginning to weep. “Not really at all.”

“Mind if I have a lift then?” I asked gently, glancing at my watch. “Groceries beckon.”

—Mistress Lucy, New Orleans

Fantasy #3. “F.U.”

My name is Jimmy. In my wildest imagination I never thought that I would be writing what I’m about to write, not because I am very shy, but because I never write.

One blustery winter day, very recently, while the rest of campus was attending a football game, I was caught having sex in the library with a luscious senior coed that every guy on campus, including yours truly, secretly longed to make his very own. Can I even begin to explain how fantastic this cheerleader looked in (and then out!) of her skin-tight gold lamé cheerleading uniform?

For over six hours, in an aisle facing a bookcase, we recklessly made love, violently rocking back and forth like two wild monkeys recently unleashed from a lifetime of caged captivity! I can only giggle as I picture that librarian watching us from behind the magazine-rack! Talk about “Caligula on Campus”!

There’s a postscript to this story, however. I later learned that it wasn’t the librarian who was watching me. The person who was watching me was me. In a mirror. Masturbating. At home. Wearing a wig. And a college T-shirt that I stole after having dropped out last year.

Sometimes when it’s late at night and no one else is around, I like to dreamy think.

—C.S., California

Fantasy #4. “Play Acting?”

Since my wife and I have been married for over 14 years, we both recently came to the decision that what was needed in our sex-lives was a little spark. We chose to perform a bit of role-playing, always a fantasy of ours! My wife dressed as a hooker, complete with hot pink pants, bright red nail polish, and a skimpy little T-shirt that voluptuously exposed her huge breasts. I chose the role of an exhausted businessman on a trip to an unknown city; a lonely middle-aged man tired of his life and bored with the prospects for his future. I took up my position inside of a sleazy bar on the wrong side of the tracks and patiently waited for “Ginger” to show.

My wife played her part to the hilt as she coyly walked into the bar, so very deliberately, driving the other patrons practically insane with longing, and yet never making it obvious that she was merely playing a role!

“Can I give you a light?” I asked shyly, as “Ginger” sat down at my table. “Or would a drink be more appropriate?”

“I’m embarrassed,” replied “Ginger.”

“I’m here on a business trip and I’m lonely,” I responded. “Interested in a little fun?”

“Enough,” said “Ginger,” as she stared directly into my eyes. “I’m chilly with humiliation.”

“What are your rates?” I asked, delicately fingering my wallet through my slacks. “Are you expensive?”

“Ginger” didn’t wait to respond to my query. She was already through the doorway of the bar and making her way out to the car. The rest of the drive home was a disaster, yet we carried on with the role-playing: my wife in the part of a middle-aged woman tired of her life, and me starring in the role of an exhausted businessman bored with the prospects for his future.

—Ronald T., Baltimore