I mean, nothing that you usually do with your significant other, but a FANTASY, a utopian construct out of reach, save for the imagination. Something exceedingly improbable (or absolutely impossible, for that matter). Something beyond your standard romance novel…make it something out of XXXhard core porn, Heavy Metal, etc.
Easy answer.
i want to get fingercuffed-that is filled at both ends IYKWIM-by Jeff Hardy and the man who took Jeff’s place as my Number One Fantasy Man.
Ideally somewhere were the screams/moans wouldn’t be heard and the massage oil/reddi whip wouldn’t stain anything. Where the handcuffs wouldn’t scratch the finish.
Then we’d take a break,have some pizza and beer,smoke a cig and go back to the orgy.
Repeat until someone’s in a coma-preferably me. 
::goes to take cold shower::
hmm…
Incredibly improbable, you say…
Me, Claudia Christian and Adrian Paul.
A week involving leather, submission AND domination, room service, and pure ectasy.
Excuse me, I feel faint…
I think I’ll wait 'til the Olsen twins turn eighteen to answer this one…
Oh man… I am SO going to hell for that one!
Anything involving me, Saskia Reeves, Jenny Agutter and/or Annette O’Toole.
Somewhere along the line Saskia and/or Jenny would read sonnets in their incredible voices.
It’s not as tame as you’re thinking, really…
Sir Rhosis
Easy;
just to be in on half the things that Arden Ranger has already been involved with (and not have cardiac arrest while doing it – well it would be a nice way to go…).
Tantric sex with Sting.
:eek:
:o
My fantasy is to have sex someday.
Sucks being a 20-year-old virgin.
I don’t have to! I’m their age! WOO!
My fantasy very redily involves me and the Olsen twins. Woo mama. ::shivers, melts and drools:: I can’t reveal too mcuh, but I can tell you, it’s good.
At least for a 15 year old…
No, trust me, that fantasy about the Olsen twins is just as good for a 19 year old, too.
–Tim
What? No whips and chains? I need some juice, man!
OK, check it out…I’m going to give you some bizzare details.
Think of a beautiful female anthropomorphic fox (a “furry”…check it out on GOOGLE). She looks kind of like Maid Marion in Disney’s animated Robin Hood.
She’s reclining on a large bed with satin sheets, holding a long, jet-black cigarette holder in her dainty fingers.
She lifts the holder to her lips to draw, and snap-inhales the smoke ball. She holds her head back and exhales a long stream of smoke from her muzzle.
I sit next to her and say, “I have arrived, my lady.”
“I am Vulpina…show me your worth.”
I reach for her.
Pull her close to my naked body.
Feel the soft, downy fur as I hold her head, bringing her lips to mine. She opens her muzzle around my face as she kisses me deeply with her long, fleshy toungue. She tastes sweet.
Her furry ears twitch and lay back as I caress her neck and back. Her plumed tail swishes back and forth as she caresses my pectorials and sholders.
Her toungue now wanders elsewhere…my neck, my chest my belly. I hold her supple breasts and smell her fur.
Ahh, 69. Our favrorite number.
She wraps her muzzle around my cock as I feed upon her furry little pussy. I feel the sharp points of her teeth on my cock. Oh, god, I nibble on her clit as she smokes my cock.
I make the mistake of grabbing the base of her tail to gain purchase in my heavings.
She shrieks her displeasure and knees me in the head.
As I roll off, she screams,“You want it Rough, I’ll Show You ROUGH!!”
She slashes my chest with her claws, drawing blood. I gasp, bringing my arms up to shield the injury, when she thrusts the heel of her hand to my face. I am knocked flat on my back.
She pounces on me, taking me deep inside her, engulfing me.
Her eyes are full of fury, her mouth snarling in a rictus grin if I appear to be helpless in her clutches.
Her body temperature is several degrees higher than mine: she feels like a furnace. She is growling, and I hear a moan…oh, its me. I’m comming…
I feel the muscular walls of her vagina contract and flex around my cock as she thows her head back and we both scream in ecstacy.
She flops down onto me, limply, and we hold each other very still for half-an-hour or so, until the last drops of my ejaculation are spent and my tumescence is spent.
She rolls off and we spoon, her back to my belly, and this way she sleeps in my arms.
There are no words.
Gotta Cigarette?
Carrie-Ann Moss in her Trinity get-up. Don’t forget those tight tight leather pants.
And oh.
And ohhh.
There’s a song that we Celtic fans sing about one of our players. The song goes “One Neil Lennon, there’s only one Neil Lennon…”
Well, in my fantasy, there are two Neil Lennons. At least 
After careful consideration, I have decided that my fantasy is to be the designated fantasy-fulfiller for the straight female SDMBers.
Who’s first, and what do I need to do?
Is that a trick question, manhattan?
Everybody knows the line forms behind me.
Yeah, but I got yours all planned, and the all-important shopping phase is almost complete.
Who’s next? Do I gotta buy ice? Or find a plane with decent-sized bathrooms? Recruit a friend?
Preparations are important, so early notice is helpful.
At your service, I am,
-manhattan
Time for a date!
Assuming you have the energy left for a ‘next’.
Oh, and enolancooper, have I got a picture for you.
I’m in the process of living out my most improbable sexual fantasy, no exaggeration, right now, and I’ve got seven days left.
Don’t ask, 'cause you wouldn’t believe me if I told you . . .