Tuesday, 15 October 2013

Number 24 - In Which I Replace One Fantasy With Another.

I think Wank Banks vary - whereas Husband's seem to focus on things that have happened, mine is things that I wish would happen. His is based in tactility, mine is based in fantasy. I suspect that is the same for most men and women. Certainly the ones I have spoken to.

Despite the fact that Husband and I have been together for almost ten years, we haven't talked about sex as much as I'd like. I have had more than twice the number of sexual partners as him, and he was married once before, whereas I had been in relationships without the 'I Do'.

With Ex, the boyfriend before Husband, things were much more open. Again, my sexual encounters massively outweighed his (he was another first marriage gone wrong, and I was Sex Partner number 2). The difference here was that we were both younger (I was 23, he was 25) and I think with a decade in our favour, it was easier to be open about what got us revved up. I disclosed my same-sex encounter, the many one-night stands and past borderline S&M relationships. He disclosed how he had only had sex with one woman before me and how she and I were polar opposites in every sense.

Through Ex, I met one of his friends, Drew (via ICQ and telephone, never in person). For you guys under 35, ICQ was an instant messaging service. I have no idea if it is still a thing. I used to converse with EX via ICQ (after meeting him via an online dating site). It was instant, obviously, and cheaper than telephones or text messages (back when we had to pay per message, before Unlimited tariffs properly existed).

Anyway, Drew was an expat who lived in the US. And Drew was incredibly aloof and incredibly intelligent. So naturally I saw this as a challenge and our conversations were frequent and long. Ex and I were engaged at the time, and looking back I think Drew saw me as as much of a challenge as I saw him. He opened my eyes to my dysfunctional relationship with Ex, and I pursued Drew's approval and craved his attention. He made me want to use my brain and learn and grow as a person. He was a man who challenged me, toyed with me and forced me to see that the cocoon Ex had wrapped me in was not healthy. Ex wanted me to himself, and I was discouraged from forging friendships. The whole time we were together, I did not have one other friend that was mine alone. All my friends were his.

When Ex and I came to the inevitable end, Drew hung around. We'd email and chat and things took a turn for the darker. Phone calls led to phone sex, and ICQ chats led to video chats which led to divulging parts of our anatomies that had until then, only been imagined. I'd never had phone sex before. I was terrible at it the first time, but after a few attempts, I got the hang of it and let down my guard.  Emotional walls came down, secrets were shared and my eyes were well and truly opened to a dark side of myself that I had suppressed. I liked the danger. I liked closing the curtains to my bedroom, putting on crotchless knickers and peephole bras, and tantalising myself as he watched or listened. The first time he dropped his jeans and showed me his semi-erect cock via a terrible quality webcam, I thought my heart was going to explode, it was pounding so hard. Masturbating via webcam was not as sexy as it sounds, given this was a few years ago and they were not as clear and smooth as they are now, but at the time it served its purpose and the sight of him shooting cum all over his desk is imprinted in my brain forever. It was possibly the most erotic thing I had ever witnessed.

I have never met Drew in person. He's in Massachusetts, I am not. And when Husband came on the scene, Drew and I sort of fizzled out. I haven't heard from him in years. But since Giant has ceased to fill me with that delicious rush of blood to my clit, I revisited some of my archived ICQ chats with Drew. They were much more suggestive than I remembered, but looking at them with many more years' maturity is interesting. I was such a giggly fangirl, it's quite cringey to read. I'm almost tempted to email him and say "hey, remember 10 years ago when we wrote this?" and copy and paste snippets of the transcript. But I won't. The lure of him is still there in the back of my head. He'll always be there, this mysterious almost-stranger with whom I shared some of my deepest, darkest desires. And I think I like him better as a deep, dark secret that managed to enlighten me about myself more than anyone else ever has.

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