Fans of How I Met Your Mother may remember the episode where Marshall confesses that he has sexual fantasies about women other than his beloved partner, Lily. When Lily learns of Marshall’s mental daliances she’s peeved. Not because he’s having brain sex with other people but because in order to justify his fantasies, Marshall also has to imagine that Lily has died.

How I Met Your Mother isn’t always my favourite show but that specific episode made me laugh my tush off. It hits so very close to home. I’m a firm believer that  when it comes to sex, the fantasy realm is an unboundaried playground, a place where we are free to do anything or anyone in any way that we see fit.  At least that’s the theory. In practice? My sexual imagination remains stubbornly tethered to my monogamous reality. Case in point:

The other day, I received a message from an old pal, one I’ve always found attractive.  I had time available and hot fantasy friend-sex seemed like just the thing to perk up a slow afternoon. But before I could let my mind and my hands roam free, as always I had concoct  a make-believe scenario wherein the option of sex with The MoMs wasn’t available to me.

I hate plot holes. In plays, in film, in books and apparently in masturbation. Perhaps it’s the playwright in me, but inconsistent narrative drives me to distraction. Distraction is the anti-orgasm. Yet, I’ve found very few imaginary situations where sex with other people fits in with the overall story of my life.

Affair sex? Doesn’t make sense for my character. There’s the option of getting imaginary divorced but that just bums me out.

Open, non-monogamous relationship? I start obsessing about specifics of what type of non-monogamy I’m living. More often than not, I abandon my fantasy fuck buddy so I can I find fantasy The MoMs to have a long fantasy conversation about our relationship.

So I do imagine that I’m widowed. Which after having watched HIMYM strikes me as somewhat absurd. How is the love of my life dying a sexier prospect than breaking up? Not even kind of rational but somehow it works for me. I’ve also made up stories wherein The MoMs is stricken by sex-plague and unable to perform is sexy duties.  Not wanting us both to suffer, he selflessly gives me the green light to shag others.

There’s also the scenario where I have the ability to go back in time and have sex with people before I begin my relationship with The MoMs. Also, the one where he’s developed the ability to take on the form of other people I want to have sex with. Because, you know, that doesn’t violate my established reality at all!

(N.B. In the sex-cancer scenario, I eventually cure The MoMs and we celebrate by having sex in a remote hillside cabin in France.

So I redact my earlier statement. My sexual fantasies are not entirely bound by the rules of my reality. Still The MoMs is my favourite prospect for real-life sex. And as I spin the story of sex with a hot buddy, part of my mind always wants to know “why are you having sex with them, if you could be having sex with him?”

Cheesy, I know. But fantasies can’t be censored.

The reality is, I hope The MoMs and I live long, happy, sex-plague free lives together. Maybe a trip to France thrown in for good measure. 😉

 

 

Comments

  1. christo says:

    I know what you’re saying. What works for me is fantasizing that I’ve reincarnated into another person with a completely different history. The other day, I was a young Denzel Washington.

  2. Rachel says:

    I also have issues with plot holes in fantasies! Frankly, these days I find fantasizing exhausting, because my brain spends so much time on back story, continuity, and filling in plot holes. :)