When I see a hot woman with a great ass in tight black leggings, what I think is not explicitly sexual. I don’t imagine bending her over and fucking her (although, for sure, I would enjoy doing so). I don’t imagine her sucking my cock, or even revealing herself to me, performing for me, submitting to me.
Well, that’s not quite right.
What I imagine is this: touching her ass, squeezing it, holding it, and ultimately, possessing it. It’s first, the discovery of the sensation of touch, and then, more important, that possession, that excites me. The fantasy of controlling, possessing, of using it, using her, for my own gratification.
But the fantasy, such as it is, is not at all explicit. It’s entirely conceptual. As I said, I don’t imagine her lowering herself slowly onto my cock, her ass toward my face. Which again, I would surely welcome.
What gets me excited in that instance is cognitive, is thoughtful.
Maybe this is why for so long I acted out so much sexually – because I hungered for that more explicit, sexual, experience of desire, but didn’t feel it. And so, by paying a woman to minister to me sexually, first to conjure my desire and then to satisfy it, I could transform this fundamentally mental experience into a (temporary, but) bodily, experience of knowing and possession.