Confessing My Fantasies Ch. 02

Continued from Ch 01...

As I was laying on the office couch, I opened my eyes briefly and realized the sun had almost set. We had been talking for a while. My therapist was quiet. She was deciding which of the two sexual fantasies I had presented her with was the one we were going to examine in detail.

"I'm gonna go with the third one you described. The one that takes place in a hotel. I'm sure the other one is interesting as well, although I don't know much about videogames. But we'll get around to it..." she finally said.

I was fine with her choice. In fact, that fantasy was one that I hadn't been quite able to figure out yet. So maybe she could shed some light on it.

"Well then," she began. "Tell me about this very interesting fantasy of yours. Does it directly start in the hotel room? Are you sure there's no previous setup?"

I realized that a possible intro to the story had emerged somewhere in my thoughts. I decided to give it a try.

"Alright. So the very first scene would take place in a park. Maybe I'm shooting hoops and this strong, masculine and athletic man shows up and wants to play with me. He puts his sports bag near the post, and I notice it has an army logo..." I explained.

"Ok, Ok. And what does seeing that logo tell you, in terms of information and your opinion of him?"

"On top of what his appearance says, I guess it also tells me he is in the army, which means he might be disciplined, has stamina and is part of a powerful organization."

"And... you like all of those things..." she said, and I could hear her smiling.

"Yes. As we play, he is clearly better than me. He outmaneuvers me at every turn, smiling and teasing me about it. When the game is over, I enquire about the sports bag and he admits he is in the army. I tell him something like 'Well, what you do for a living is incredibly brave.' I do so with a serious tone, showing at least some admiration that should sound genuine. He maybe says 'Sometimes it feels thankless and nowadays there's a lot of general sentiment against it.' To which I could reply something like 'You probably deserve to be thanked.' This might make him smile mischievously in a 'Oh really?' kind of way. I might look down and bite my lip."

"Ohhhh! Interesting. So in this fantasy you are very subtly activating your flirty mode of seduction."

"Subtly indeed, I'd say..."

"Would he react to your expression?"

"Sure. He might say something like 'If only I found someone who would be willing to thank me properly. Hmmm', which would make me blush most likely."

"I like how you are framing the story. It's hot but also...kind of cute and genuine."

"Cute?" I said in disbelief.

"Yeah. It sounds so authentic and natural, even if right now you may not think so. And I'll explain later why. But go on."

"Ok. He might ask me for my number or something, and then we'd part ways."

"Nice. And how do we go from there to...a fancy hotel room? Do you book it? Does he?"

"I picture the hotel as being more of a surprise. Let's say he messages me to get a beer, but when I make it to the agreed place, he asks me if I'd rather 'thank' him instead of the beer..."

"So he wants to get right to it. And...so do you?"

"I guess..." I admitted.

"What happens then?"

"He just tells me to follow him until we get to the door of a fancy hotel. I guess my heartbeat would really accelerate at that point. Not because I'm scared of hotels or anything, mind you. Just the realization that I would be following a very athletic, assertive and masculine man into a hotel, without any coercion... It would be a very concrete way for my mind to know that 'this is happening'. Do I make sense?"

"Yes, of course. Up until then you'd be completely shielded by pausible deniability. No-one has said what 'thanking him' means. You could just be basketball buddies who were out for a beer...But you're not. You are, as you say, followig this man into a hotel..."

Her words stirred me even more. It sounded very real coming from someone else...

"And then, what happens? You follow him up to a room, right?"

"Exactly..."

"You cross the ultimate threshold. That room is the first moment of real privacy between you and that man. Even before entering the room you still had a chance to turn back. Nothing stopped you. But now, you're all in. He has you..."

"That's one way to put it..." I replied after a few seconds.

"And here comes the part that you mentioned in your summary. I'm listening."

I cleared my throat. It was time to tell my fantasy in all manner of detail, as we agreed.

"There is a bathroom and a big bed in the room. The floor is marble, and his sports bag is propped against the side of the bed. I wonder what he brought in it. He tells me to take a shower. To take my time and to be thorough. He says there's a bathrobe that I should put on after. That he'll be waiting. No rush..."

"How does the suggestion make you feel?"

"Since the whole situation has probably made me sweat, I welcome the idea. And he is going to wait in the room, so I still have time to back out. That's the feeling I have at that point."

"So you're not completely sure by that point? You don't know if you are going to go through with it?"

"Who knows?" I said with a touch of mystery.

"I think you know."

I could hear the smile in her words.

"So, I take a really long and thorough shower. Really thorough."

"Do you think it's also symbolic? Like maybe you are cleansing yourself of old ideas an prejudices?"

"I hadn't thought of that. I just saw it as a way to be more presentable to him. To be at my best. Which ties with later themes."

"I see. Showers and waterfalls are usually very symbolic in fantasies."

"You might be partially true. There may be something ritualistic about it," I ended up saying just so we could move on.

"Does the thought of being naked in the shower and that man being right outside in that room make your nervous? Excited?"

"No more than I already was, I'd say. When I finish, I take a lot of time drying myself. Maybe using the hairdryer. There's something very soothing about a hair dryer after a shower. The sound reminds me of cozy times..." I explained.

"Agreed. So right after the shower, you feel kind of relaxed and peaceful."

"Yes. It is then that I put on the bathrobe that I find there, as per his instructions."

"And finally, you exit the bathroom. Describe to me what you find," she said.

"As I step out into the room, I see that his sports bag is open and empty. I see him, standing proud in front of the bed. He is wearing an army uniform, which I presume was in the bag. It has some camouflage patterns but I'm ignorant of anything involving rank. I just notice how 'real' it is. It's not a Halloween costume. It's really a good fit..."

"Nice... So there we have it, the idea of the uniform. What do you think makes the uniform something attractive? I'm asking because it is a curious phenomenon. Usually one could say that a uniform takes away some of the individuality of a man. Puts him in a position of following, within a hierarchy. Would you say that's particularily attractive? On paper we'd say it's not. Then again many women would tell you otherwise. But I want to know what you think."

"I agree that it takes some individuality away, but even that in itself, is a choice. He has decided to be part of it. He has earned his right to wear the uniform. I think it's validating. I also mentioned the concept of him being part of a very powerful organization. You might lose on the individuality, but his perceived net gain in terms of power, is increased..."

"Interesting... Seems like you've thought about this before..." she remarked.

"Yes. The amount of facets that it adds to his appeal is greater than the amount that is taken away. The uniform means he has strength of character, resilience, maybe believes in something bigger than himself. He can use violence when needed, in a controlled way. Can be a protector figure to the very last...."

"Also interesting! Do you realize some of these things are just character traits, not necessarily sexual?"

"I do. And I think it's a very big part of the appeal of this fantasy."

"What happens then?"

"He tells me to get close, right in front of him. I feel the cold marble floor beneath my feet. When I get to where he wants me to be, I realize once again how much taller he is, and how much wider his shoulders are. I feel..." I hesitated.

"Go on... This is why we are doing this. To understand your feelings," she said softly.

"I feel intimidated by him..."

"Excellent word choice. Did you know that it literally means 'to be made timid'?"

It surprises me that I had never made the connection even if it's right there in the word. But it makes all the sense in the world.

"Yes...I guess I would feel timid in his presence."

"Who would speak first? Who would break the ice?" she asked with interest.

"I think he would say something like 'Ready to be thankful?' and I would just nod. Then he'd say 'The floor is cold. Maybe you should kneel on your bathrobe. It looks comfy...' "

"Mmm..." she said, enjoying my description of the events.

"I would take off the bathrobe, still looking into his eyes. I would then fold it over itself on the floor to make a nice cushion for my knees. Because... who knows how long I'll be there..."

She hummed in approval.

"Naked and probably hard, I drop down to my knees, still looking at him, until I'm sitting on my ankles, expectantly. He then says 'It suits you, being thankful like this...' to which I reply 'Thank you...' "

"How fitting! Haha" she laughed gently.

"I would willingly play the part, yeah..." I admitted with a smile.

"Would you take it out of his pants or would he do it himself?"

"Himself," I said after a very brief pause. "Because the next thing he would tell me is to put my hands behind my back...

"Oooh. That's quite the request. What do you think it implies?"

I paused and thought it through. I had a clear idea or rather ideas of what it meant.

"Obviously, the first thing it implies is that I'm going to be using my mouth a lot. And that gives me less control. Leaves me more at the mercy of his movements. Simultaneously, the fact that he asks me to put my hands behind my back, means he really wants them to be out of the way. He doesn't want to allow the temptation of me using them... "

"Using them for what?"

"For anything. To defend myself, to hold him so he doesn't go as deep... He just wants me to be defenseless..." I explained.

"Go on."

"So he would take it out of his pants. And I'd finally be confronted by it."

"Confronted? Interesting word choice. Explain."

"Well..." I began. "It would be a bit shocking having his member in front of my face, erect and pointing at me in such an accusatory manner, you know?"

"Ah! You would feel like his penis would be singling you out, somehow?"

"There's nobody else in the room, so yeah. The only reason why his member...." I paused.

"Are you ok using that word? 'Member?' Because it's safe here. You can speak whichever way you want and better expresses your feelings."

I paused a moment further before continuing.

"The only reason his... cock is out and hard is because I would be on my knees waiting to smell it, lick it, taste it, kiss it, suck it, gag on it...."

"Excellent... This is the kind of talk I want you to let out. Gooood!"

"Well, what I just said. I would've brought it upon myself," I said in a tone that was basically a spoken shrug.

"And would that make you feel guilty, ashamed?"

"Self-conscious more than anything. Excited too. Excited to know that nobody that knows me can imagine that I'm kneeling naked on a folded bathrobe facing the open zipper of this man in an army uniform."

"Go on. You're doing great."

"He would say 'Are you gonna thank me then?', and I would. I would lean my head in, look up at him and say a soft 'Thank you...' before giving the tip of his cock a quick kiss. Which would quickly become more. Maybe dozens. So quick that only their added effect makes me start getting a feel of what he tastes like."

"Would his taste interest you?"

"As I mentioned a while ago, having my taste buds triggered by his precum would give the whole thing an air of reality and inevitability that would be impossible to ignore. If you think about it, it would technically be the first time that any... atom that comes from him has been inside me."

"True, true."

"At that point I might start licking him, trying to do a good job, maybe finally grabbing his tip with my lips and gently nursing on it to extract more of his fluid. A fountain that keeps giving, in a way."

"This is all so very descriptive! You should think about writing erotica, I'm not kidding! You have a knack for sensory descriptions paired with the psychological aspects. Not everyone can balance those things."

"Th-thank you... The words come naturally to me, honestly. This all comes straight from my soul..."

"Is 'straight' the right word?" she asks, almost laughing. I make a fake disapproving sound. I guess that joke was too easy for her not to slide in there.

"In any case, I would perform oral sex on him, for as long as he would let me. Having my hands behind my back and not being able to touch myself would be a challenge. It'd be all about his pleasure."

"But you would feel pleasure as well while you do it. Right?" she interjected.

"In my mouth...?" I asked with a tone of puzzlement.

"Oh, you know very well what I mean. You would have an erection. And that erection would be increasing bit by bit. You would feel good."

"I would feel as if... as if his precum was going directly into my bloodstream and making me hard, like a sexy non-lethal venom..."

She was momentarily silent after those words.

"Did that thought just occur to you?"

"Kind of. I have listened to many erotic audios that mention things like that. I guess there's their influence!"

"Would he... finish in your mouth? Your face? Your throat?"

"None of that. He would eventually tell me to rise. Which might throw me off but curiosity would get the best of me."

"And I guess we are on to the main course, right?"

"He would take his pants and boots completely off, and tell me to lay on the bed as he removes the covers."

"At that point you'd know what he wants, I'm guessing."

"I would lay face down on the bed. He would pull my thighs apart and place the pillows underneath my hips, exposing me."

"Would you be excited?"

"Excited and worried. That is, until I heard the sound of a lube bottle cap being opened. Since I would've just had him in my mouth, I would be very aware of his size. It would be a cause for concern..."

"You mentioned a very particular kind of dirty-talk in your description of this fantasy. Would this be the moment where it starts?"

I try to gather as much courage as I can. This part will be a bit difficult to admit to...

"He would climb on the bed and position himself behind me, pouring lube over my hole. It would be at that time when I would start to really, really thank him."

"Describe it to me. I think this is the part you like the most about this fantasy, right? What makes it unique."

"Alright. Let me tell you the things I'd say..." I said before taking a deep breath. " 'I'm very thankful for the job you do, you know? I'm very grateful for the courage that you display. I know that a big part of society, or even myself for that matter, is opposed to the idea of armies and wars...' "

I took a brief pause. My therapist's silence told me she was listening intently.

" 'But even if that's true, it doesn't take away from your effort, your endeavor,' " I continued.

"That's something you hadn't told me," she said. "And you might be already aware, but it makes this fantasy much more intense. Because you might be against what he does on principle, but still his masculinity has brought you to where you are in the fantasy. It's very poignant to be honest..."

I silently agreed.

"At that moment he might command me to reach back with my hands to spread apart my cheeks so he then can start pushing his cock into me. My natural response would be to clench my teeth or complain. But I think I would continue my explanations to him to somehow distract myself from that uncomfortable moment:

'I want you to know that I... submit willingly to you. And I think it's only fair that... I give myself as an offering to you. I belong to you...' "

"Go on..." she replied.

"My voice would probably tremble as his head finally pushes inside me. He would lay his body on top of me as he pushes deeper into me, conquering me without an ounce of ambiguity. I would tell him what I feel. What I truly feel:

'Your body on top of mine... feels like a shield. Like you will protect me... hide me from danger, from enemies... That your body is a barrier that makes feel safe...' "

Her silence signaled how attentive she was to the story, so I continued.

" 'But I also understand that it cannot come for free. That sacrifices need to be repaid. They need an incentive...'

He might pause and ask me what that would be. To which I would reply something like:

'I offer myself. My body, my soul. My fears, my feminine side, my cravings to please...All of that is yours...' "

"That's...quite the dialogue..." she said.

"He might put a little twist on things by making it less metaphorical:

'What about this little ass of yours? Is that on offer as well?'

Which would be quite a thing to say when his cock is already quite deep inside me. I would just make a quick noise of confirmation, which would give him the signal to push just a little bit deeper and finally make contact with my prostate."

"I'm guessing that would be an important moment?" she asked.

"Yes. For several reasons. It means he is in all the way. He is filling me. It is the ultimate point that had to be reached. Not just because it means I have a lot of his cock inside me, but he is actually touching the spot that allows him to conquer me through pleasure. That even if I wasn't a fan of the idea, even if this was the first time this happened or despite any other factors, he would be igniting an otherworldly pleasure inside me. It would put anything and everything into question. It's a moment that can be both of great confusion and also a very clear realization." I replied.

"Please elaborate."

"What I just said. Think of anything that one hasn't tried in life but ends up loving. A food, an activity, whatever. You are hit by the realization that life can be so much more pleasurable. It might elicit feelings of sadness about having missed out on it for a long time, but also excitement at the future, knowing such pleasures exist. This is a very intense version of it for men. Or at least I think it is." I explained.