Volumes have been written about the relative anonymity of the internet, for both good and bad.
One thing’s for sure: A lot of people out there have a lot of hidden kinks, fantasies and stories they can share online but wouldn’t dare tell the people they know in realspace.
(Present company included, not to put too fine a point on it.)
Every once in a while, back when Craigslist had real personals, I’d post an ad asking people — okay, fine, women — to tell me their five dirtiest fantasies. I got a few responses from men who couldn’t read categories, but I also got a fair number of responses from the target sample group.
A lot of them had to do with bosses, friends, even fathers-in-law or brothers-in-law. Those, I couldn’t do anything about. Others had to do with going to sex clubs or being involved in a gangbang. The former, I might do but not around here. The latter, not my thing. Probably won’t ever be my thing.
But there was one response, that only had one fantasy on its list, that grabbed me from the outset. That came — I’m guessing here — in 2001, making me 48.