The borders between fiction and reality

This post, if I actually get around to publishing it, is going to address my sexual preferences in rather more specific terms than usual, so please be aware that some might find it offensive.

I was reading a story from a well-known internet archive earlier on, as is my wont from time to time. This particular story contained a lengthy and detailed description of a pre-teen boy engaged in penetrative sex (with an older boy, not a man). I freely admit I found it powerfully erotic. But, for all the physical effect it had on me, it's not something I could ever see myself doing in reality, even in the unlikely event of finding a potentially willing partner. I'm big, heavy and clumsy, and I can't envisage any way I could do it without hurting the boy. And that's the anathema, as far as I'm concerned - whatever anyone might think about the morality of my attractions, there's no way I'd ever want to hurt a boy, or anyone else, for that matter. There are activities I would engage in, given informed consent, and I make no pretence to the contrary, but not anything with even the possibility of causing pain. I put some of my thoughts about this topic into the mouth of the 'Albie' character in Confluence last month, most notably, in this context, the line about not being a person who gets his kicks by hurting or dominating others. 'If it's not shared, it's not fun', as Albie said. I'm not claiming that attitude makes me a 'good' person, but perhaps not a uniformly bad one.
In other news, I'm very pleased to see that two of the most egregiously theocratic Republican presidential candidates, Perry and Bachmann, appear to have fallen at the first hurdle, in Iowa yesterday. I sincerely hope voters in the remaining states maintain the same level of common sense.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B