From DSOUL off of another website Some prefer looking at it as some type of fantasy—something they can indulge on their whim and fancy whenever they so choose to. Something see it as something worth passing the time with: it’s been a dull day at work/home ... everyone has gone off for lunch break except me/the wife isn’t at home and the kids won’t the back from school for another hour or two ... what better thing to do that to turn on the computer and visit some erotic website/forum and check out the latest sex videos and discussions that’s ongoing in there ... and who knows, maybe today I might get myself a bonus: maybe today I can get laid! Sex sells, ladies and gents, and it lives in the mind. When growing up as a kid and sauntering off to Sunday school, I always listened to the old, haggard-looking woman behind the podium preach to us low-lifers about the ‘Ends of Time’, and of how unworthy we are as sinners to even think about carrying the thought of sex in our heads. Of course back then as a fourteen year old, you wouldn’t blame me that much for that—I’d only just discovered my father’s old girlie mags from the seventies, as I know some of you discovered similar too. For long I tried holding that tablet in my head about burning in eternal damnation forever for even carrying salacious thoughts of women on my mind. Fast-forward to where I am now, I’m like Rhett Butler and don’t give a damn. Sex is all around us, in our hearts and minds and even out in the street holding our hands and staring down at us from glossy billboard signs. The funny thing about ourselves when it comes to matters of sex is that we’re pretty good at imagining it than when it comes to really doing it. Yes, your boss sure would love to hike up that cute secretary’s skirt and feel his hand under her knickers ... but that don’t make it a good idea, now does it? You, a loving and dedicated housewife, can’t help admiring that young stud who’s out in the back cleaning your home swimming pool. You’d like nothing but to lick the sweat off his backside and have his abs pressed down on you ... but it still don’t make him a good candidate for your bedroom, especially when you don’t know what he might be carrying. Thus we’re imprisoned to our imaginations all through much of the day. It’s a good thing too, since after all, it’s not like we’re harming anyone that way? But we’re not content with just sex, but rather dirty sex. Filthy, dirty sex, the kind that’s got us dragging out dirtiest fantasies to the forefront of where we wish to go. Fantasy goes with everything we do—the ‘WHAT IF’, in every stimulating sexual scenario: WHAT IF I could hide out with the secretary and the wife wouldn’t be any wiser? WHAT IF I could charm the wife/GF into sleeping with a black man? WHAT IF I could tell the wife how much I enjoy sucking black cock and that I’d love to share one with her? What if the wife found out I love dressing up in her outfit?