I’m standing alone in a small room. Steam rolls off the large, dark stones covering the walls. A man comes out of the fog. He’s naked. Dark coils of hair decorate his chest, and his muscular arms grip my waist with a lusty firmness. He rips off my underwear and pushes me against the wall and… whoops! Sorry, guys. Didn’t mean for you to walk in on that fantasy.

It’s about this time of year, when the summertime glow has officially worn off and spring has been avoiding our calls, when I most benefit from a vacation to fantasy land. What is fantasy land, you ask? Why, it’s a magical place where men are treated to blow jobs on silver platters and women are doted upon with sexual favors by Channing Tatum look-alikes, of course! With research papers and finals crawling up our assholes, this dream world could be just the ticket to help us kick back, unwind and indulge in our libido-licious fancies.

Everyone’s fantasy land is different. Some people may dream of harnesses and jockey whips, while others may harbor a burning desire to make sweet love under a cool waterfall. Some fantasies involve a video camera and lots of wax, and others could include nothing but an oversized ostrich feather. It’s easy to see the attraction of props in the bedroom. When we were punished as children we were sent to our rooms for a time out, where a bounty of toys awaited us. It seems natural that as adults we crave a similar type of distraction… only this time we want our partner(s) to order us into the bedroom wearing assless chaps or a slinky maid costume, and we’ve replaced our race cars and Ouija boards with blindfolds and dildos.

There’s the fantastifuck, which is when you imagine that the person you’re grinding hips with is someone else. This scenario is highly useful when you’re alone on a Saturday night with two cartons from Little Asia and an extra-large bottle of lube, or if your bang buddy looks like Karl Rove in headgear. Simply close your eyes and envision a stunning figure. He/she has excellent cheekbones, a wide girth/full boobies and a flexible tongue. He/she slips his/her hand into your waistband, where you’re already hard/wet, then proceeds to use his/her Super Oral-Sex Powers to pleasure your ballsack/clit. A note: Fantastifucking is not a form of cheating, but there’s no need to crush the confidence of whatever creature you’ve taken pity on that night (e.g., don’t yell out “OHHHHH, Sarah Palin, I’m gonna cum on your tits!” unless, of course, you are banging America’s favorite grandmother).

Group sex fantasies come in many different shapes and sizes, ranging from an exclusive threesome with those cute blonde roommates from the dorms, to an all-inclusive naked party with everyone from the dorms, to a romantic encounter between you and your girlfriend… which is playing live on the internet. I used to daydream about putting in some extra effort in my oceanography section with my TA as the whole class watched enviously, and hell, I STILL fantasize about Nexus sexus. I bet the staff could make the headlines. Any takers?

Situational skinarios know no bounds, as I’m sure you can imagine. There’s the French maid and the pool boy, Darth Vader and Princess Leia, the white colonist and his Native American slave, King Tut and Queen Nefertiti, the mortician and the zombie, or on stage at the Ludacris concert (’cause you know it got sold out).

In the words of a wise musician: “What’s your fantasy?” Broach the topic with your main squeeze, and you just might discover a new side to yourself. What have you got to lose? And don’t you dare say “dignity.” You lost that in junior high when you got in trouble for making out in the boys’ bathroom.

Now if you’re quite through interrupting me, I believe I was about to get ravaged by a well-endowed dick.