Not too long ago a man asked me about my best sexual fantasy. I thought it was a funny question to ask a near-stranger, so I thought I’d do something funny in return and tell him the truth.

This is my best sexual fantasy. It’s something I recently invented and I use it a lot. As in A. Lot.

Sometimes I even use it on the T as I’m headed for the library in the morning. Sometimes I use it at Peet’s as I’m waiting in line. Of course I use it in bed. I mean, duh.

Are you ready?

Are you sure?

It might upset you.

Okay. Well, whatever. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. And, after all, access to my blog is free. It’s not like you paid for this.

Okay.

I imagine I am spooning Jesus, naked Jesus, a lightly sweaty, tanned Jesus who smells like frankincense and hammered wood, and that God, a warm, loving, dense cloud, is spooning me from behind.

It’s hard for me to keep typing at this point. I feel so complete that my fingers are naturally quieting.

Do you know how warm and safe and loved I am with those two guys sandwiching me? Do you know how they complete me? Do you? It’s like I finally get to be in a cocoon without being a disgusting mass of disintegrated caterpillar. I get to be in a cocoon and be me at the same time, safe in my own skin instead of being a soup that is desperately trying to sprout wings.

When my heart feels loved and held, anything is possible.

Maybe it’s sacrilegious to spoon the father and the son, but I guess I don’t care. You know why? They make my life better, and they like spending time with me. It’s all so good.

What happened to the man who asked the question? you ask.

Guess.