I fantasize about almost everyone.

Elizabeth has responsibilities.  She has to pay bills, and thus has to go to work all day long, where I get bored out of my mind.  Sure, I keep in shape with kegels.  I pass the time thinking about playing with Henry's penis, or remembering good times with former lovers, or wondering what my friends and coworkers would be like in bed.  The truth is, I fantasize about almost everyone I meet.

In eighth grade, I had a huge crush on my English teacher, Miss De Luca.  She was young, fresh from college and teaching while she worked on her masters.  She always dressed nicely, in dresses or blouses and skirts, and she always took the time to style her brown curls.  I liked her bright smile and her thin hourglass figure.  I can't imagine how many lessons I missed out on, just thinking what she would look like naked.

High school was worse, and college even more so.  If my professor was an attractive woman or a straight man within thirty years my age, I fantasized.  If I was bored with the teacher, I thought about my classmates... an easy thing to do, in a private northeastern university where every girl wore miniskirts and every guy worked out.  Sometimes, when I gathered my books together and stood up to leave the classroom, I'd realize I was wet.

In women, I've become far less attracted to "conventional beauty."  Any bimbo can throw on a nice dress and a layer of makeup, though some obviously do it better than others.  I like breasts--big or little doesn't matter, as long as they're well-formed and the nipples look nice.  I also love the curves of waist to hips and ass to thigh.  The only thing that can really ruin it is if she opens her mouth and babbles something stupid.  Give me an hourglass figure or pear-shaped lady with something interesting to say, and I'm happy all night.  Now that I'm with Henry's penis, though, I only get to play with another vagina if he doesn't mind watching, or--better yet!--if the three of us can play together.

In men, I've always been fond of the slope from broad shoulders, down the back to the waist, especially if it's punctuated by a nice, thrusty derriere.  My head may be turned by a rock-hard, sculpted body, but honestly, I don't want to bed anyone too muscled.  I'd rather feel a more human body on mine.  The beauty of men is in the duality of soft and hard, gentleness and strength.  The penis is fun to taste and touch in its various states, and serves as the epitome of this concept, but it is not all.  An embrace, a kiss, a playful tickle-fight--each requires just enough strength to dominate me, and just enough softness to make me feel safe through it all.

Great, now I'm all worked up.  Time to blow off a little stream... thank you, Redtube.