6.10.2003

 

I fantasize quite a bit, but I don’t think I do so in a way common to most guys.

I’ve never had the Catholic school girl fantasy. To tell the truth, while those little plaid skirts don’t turn me off, I wouldn’t ever say I go crazy for that sort of thing. The idea of two lesbians going at it in the bubble bath really does nothing for me either, and I have never thought in any seriousness about having a threesome. I suppose jumping in between two naked women would prove for an interesting hour or so, but I cannot actually think of any situation I would actually like to do that. I have all I could ever want with my one beautiful lady right now anyway.

Every once in a while I can write about fantasies I have had or could possibly have, as I have done so in talking about fun on airplanes and moments in time, but talking about fantasies with me usually comes out as an unsatisfactory experience for my conversational companion. I assume this happens because I fantasize in a photographic medium; my daydream mental pictures consist of little more than images in time: me sitting in a folding chair while a naked lithe girl straddles me with her legs bent at the knees down the legs of the chair, her hands strangling the back of the chair as she rocks against me. The sound of thunder cracking above us and rain absolutely drenching us as we press into each other up against a wall somewhere. Quietly taking advantage of a quiet afternoon in the library, right on top of the tables in the back corner by the shelves holding the Federal Reporter.

But it occurs to me that I don’t share the classic male fantasies from time to time because some of them are so damn outdated.

I’ve had occasion to observe a few nurses lately, thanks to the proximity of my office to a health care facility, and having done so, I have noticed that the mystique of the nurse simply cannot exist anymore. I suppose in a time past I could see the appeal of getting down and frisky with a nurse. All that white suggesting an almost virginal innocence just waiting for the taking, but draping a woman whose commanding demeanor suggests anything but innocence. The sound of latex snapping ten seconds before a smirking blonde tells us to drop our pants because she needs to give us a little poke. All that proximity to beds and medical instruments for which the creative mind might find good use. The white stockings that, in our male minds, must certainly attach to wispy white garters riding hips encircled by the two white strings of the skimpiest of panties. And that one button a foot down from her chin straining at the pressure of the too-small bust line of a pure white dress smoothed over two large breasts.

Okay, so I guess I could understand why the nurse fantasy does something for a lot of men.

But honestly, have you paid attention to nurses in the last ten years? I don’t even need to discuss whether lots of less than attractive women have moved into the profession (and I’ll not contemplate such a topic here) as a reason for the destruction of the nurse fantasy; I can make my point on clothes alone.

Gone is the false smirking white innocence or the nurse with her snapping latex and commanding attitude, the red lipstick matching the little red cross on her sailboat hat as the only contrast to all that white, replaced by a pair of cotton royal blue loose pants and a glorified t-shirt covered with teddy bears. No more white suggestive desire, just a bunch of shirts covered in balloons and kids flying kites, pants just a little more dressy than scrubs and multiple pairs of Payless shoes.

Take the last three Victoria’s Secret cover models and dress them up like that and I say it seems likely that you’ll still find yourself fantasizing about the Catholic school girl fantasy over the nurse, unless you just have a really creative mind and have thought of uses for tongue depressors about which the HM readers don’t need to hear.

I say the time has come for a new generation of male fantasies, new professions or looks that excite the male schlong. Personally, I have a thing for girls who drive manual transmission cars and future lawyers, but seeing as I don’t share the common male fantasies, I nominate someone else to lead us out of this dark period.