My marital nemesis

Greetings fair lass one month from Xmas 2023
A fantasy of mine envisions me being willingly abducted by a democratic, holistic, linguistic, pacific, terrific and fecund female whisked to never never land.
Marital circumstances disallow me (a sixty four year young blooded hounded, jaundiced, and learned poet/prose reader vexed Caucasian guy) to hear your lovely voice or further this acquaintanceship.
I'm in a monogamous relationship, but I won't be if my significant other finds out about my locked secret harboring a boatload of lovely ship shape bona fide female clothing.
As a strict conservative abbey, this wife strong anchored to orthodox beliefs and would never tolerate such nun sense.
Nonetheless, a fluke that I netted this catch of the day as will be described in the following paragraphs.
While out trawling the turbulent seas (a favorite pastime) donning fishnet stockings, skinny jeans and ruby red slippers to boot, this heterosexual cross dresser felt in his usually crabby mood.
As a pennywise and pound foolish dime a dozen quarterback (of no particular denomination), i forever and anon experienced an elusive search to snare even a pair of holy discarded feminine negligee or brassiere.
Today though, lady luck smiled toward these myopic eyes just as I felt on the verge of utter futility and hopelessness.
There but for the grace of dog, a bulging suitcase (property of some unknown woman) bobbed up and down.
Without missing a beat, these nimble fingers snatched the water logged bound paraphernalia overboard.
While the strong overhead sun mercilessly rained solar rays, I arranged the saturated accessories so they would air dry.
How salutary this laugh in fickle finger of fate good fortune that suddenly found me performing Irish two-step dancing accompanied by an imaginary contra band!
At heart, I did consider myself a male jig a low and continually entertained more than a passing whim to succumb to those unbridled longings to enter the verboten supposedly sinful carnal zones of same sex intimacy.
A dash of madness overcame me at times to envision (against the parochial views of organized religion) not only donning myself in gay apparel, but also locating those denizens of homosexual hot spots.
Truth be told, I entertained this notion per being with another man, years ago when an older gentleman (another frequenter at Evansburg state park) made an overt overture with explicit sexual intent.
Matter of fact, he upon reaching out for my hand planted a gentle moist kiss atop each finger.
Aside from that incident, other circumstances occurred about half my lifetime ago (mainly at Antioch college in Yellow Springs, Ohio), whereby mere striplings of young men (practically dripping with hormonal secretion) elicited via non-verbal communication an interest toward naked lunch and dalliance in the dark behind closed doors.
At that time of my life (early twenties), the barest consideration to contemplate intercourse with another guy promptly induced nausea. What a difference slogging along in a charade, facade, mockery, Potemkin village, pretense, sham, travesty of a marriage in tandem with two plus decades strongly eying, but lo baiting for a master to enslave and initiate this mister mom into the warm yet prickly rites of dick kin Zion foreplay.
No fallacy here.
Now to no avail does this gamesome gentleman receive cryptic signals transmitted and decoded by those seeking salacious satisfaction of flesh.
How long will penal solitude sentence last?