Forbidden Flowers (14 page)

Read Forbidden Flowers Online

Authors: Nancy Friday

Tags: #Women's Sexual fantasies, #Erotic Fantasy

BOOK: Forbidden Flowers
5.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

While he is ejaculating, he tells me how good it feels to have sex with me. Afterward, we lie in bed together, and he is very affectionate to me. In fantasies like this one, I imagine that having sex feels very good, but I do not have an orgasm in them. I do not have this kind of fantasy very often though. I probably only have it about once or twice a month. I have to be in just the right mood for this kind or else they make me feel bad instead of good.

The first specifically sexual fantasy that I ever had occurred when I was thirteen, and my oldest sister got married (I only have sisters and no brothers). At that time, I asked my mother about marriage and having babies, and she told me about sex.

Soon after that, I began to masturbate, and when I did, I would fantasize about being able to secretly watch while my sister and her new husband were having sex together. Maybe because it was the first kind of sexual fantasy I had, this kind of fantasy is just about my favorite of all. I get extremely aroused when I try to picture what a newly married couple I know are doing on their wedding night or on their honeymoon. Second to this kind of fantasy are those in which I imagine that I am secretly watching while a good-looking boy takes off all his clothes and then masturbates. I would MUCH RATHER imagine watching this than to actually have sex with a boy.

I hope that what I have told you about my sexual fantasies will help your continuing research. I can hardly wait to read the results of this additional research. I lent my copy of your book to a friend of mine, and she, too, likes it very much. Maybe she will write to you too. I might even write to you again if I think of more to tell you about.

93

CHAPTER THREE

LOOKING

Until very recently, it was a cliché even in the medical profession that women were not turned on by reading pornography. When I began researching
My Secret Garden,
one doctor after another told me that women are
unable
to become aroused through the same kind of visual stimuli that moved men. “A woman does not look at sex as a kind of simple, physical proposition the way men can,” went the usual explanation. “Pornographic books or photos leave all emotion out of sex, but unless a woman can see sex in an emotional context, she just isn't interested.”

This may have sounded reasonable enough; on the whole, it is fairly true of the way women lead their lives. The only problem with the explanation is that it does not account for, or even acknowledge,
female lust.

It did not help explain to me why I would always find my eyes riveted to attention when I passed a man on the street who had a noticeable bulge in his trousers … why, when I went to see
The Changing Room,
a play in which at least a dozen naked men come on stage at one time, it was all I could do to keep my head from swiveling from side to side. I had never seen so many naked cocks presented for my inspection at one time, and although I felt no emotion for any of the actors involved, it was one of the most exciting evenings I had ever spent in a theater.

Was I some kind of freak? I wondered. I had nothing to compare myself to, no role-models whose footsteps I could safely walk in. I had no cultural okay to give sanction to my prurient interest, the way men have for theirs. If a man likes to go to burlesque shows and pins photos of naked women on his wall, it shows he is one hell of a lusty guy. There is even a society based in San Diego – made up of young studs who proudly label themselves “International Girl Watchers.” But we are only supposed to collect photos of couples walking 94

hand in hand in the moonlight. The whole business seemed unfair to me – worse, it offended my sense of logic and symme-try. There must be a reverse to the coin, even if I had never heard it discussed, even if no doctor would agree with me. I remember talking to a friend's young daughter not too long ago about her experiences at the beach. “Men have these funny bulges in the front of their bathing suits,” the girl said, “but you're not supposed to notice them. How do you do that?” How indeed? I get furious when I hear men and women alike say that the naked male isn't as interesting or beautiful as the naked female. Why? Why should tits be any more beautiful than a man's buttocks or cock? I believe it is men themselves who've set up the idea that their naked bodies are ugly – or at least, too trivial or unimportant to look at, unless they have an erection! If I am right, then it is also men themselves who will have to help both sexes get over this absurd prejudice. Men are going to have to accept their own naked bodies as aesthetically satisfying, and not merely sexually useful; they will have to learn to lie back and enjoy allowing a woman to look at them.

Once men can get away from the idea that they are not worth looking at if they don't have a giant, erect cock, they will be liberated from an enormous amount of their castration anxieties. They will be freed from the notion that they are either a giant penis or they are “nothing.” They can be men, instead of perpetual fucking machines.

To see a naked man from the rear is a sight that takes my breath away the awesome shape of power as the shoulders drop away into narrow hips, the hard, muscle-bunched look of an athlete's ass…. There are lines in the male body that have never been mentioned, aesthetics of masculine anatomy women will soon be writing poetry about …
if
we can give ourselves permission to look.

Unlike men, women have been trained from birth to be exhibitionists. Fashion is busily revealing one aspect of our anatomy this year, hiding it the next. Who more than a woman feels more deeply in her bones the erotic power of what the eye can see? It is obvious to me that both sexes must be equally stimulated by reading and seeing sexual sights, but that women 95

– “ladies” – have been culturally conditioned to deny it, even to themselves.
Both
sexes respond to natural things like sunshine, furry animals, the feeling of speed, the sound of music – why should there be this great divide in what turns on the individual sexes? If both women and men like sex, both must like it in all its manifestations, even the most fleeting. After I had written in
My Secret Garden
that I was “an inveterate crotch-watcher,” woman after woman has taken me aside to tell me, with a relieved laugh, that she was too. (You will also find mention of the pleasures of fantasizing what goes on under a man's tight-fitting pants in many of the letters in this book.) Roxanne too sends evidence that I'm not alone in getting an erotic charge out of things I see. Her letter contains eleven different fantasies, all of which involve looking and being looked at.

But her letter ends on a sad note, I feel – one that does much to explain why women are so afraid to confess their excitement at seeing something sexual. “… I must stop now,” Roxanne concludes, “as my husband is coming home. He's great but rather traditional, so I don't want him to see all this.” Instead of seeing women's sexual response to things they see or read as one more erotic avenue to explore together, too many men see it as a threat, a sign of raging sexuality that they are afraid they may not be able to satisfy. “My ex-husband would rather think of me as frigid,” a friend recently said to me, “than think maybe I wasn't getting enough.”

Roxanne

I have a number of favorite fantasies – I say favorite because if I described all of my fantasies I'd be able to write a book myself. So anyway, as my vaginal juices start proliferating, here goes:

Fantasy 1:
There is a pornographic book and magazine store fairly near where I live. The magazines are especially great, with
all types
of pictures and advice, including how guys can best fuck guys, and so forth. Anyway, I see myself going in there with some type of revealing clothing on and definitely No 96

underwear of any kind. Whatever the top material is, my nipples will be clearly visible, and the bottom part will be some sort of skirt-dress. I go in and start paging through some magazines when I accidentally on purpose drop one. I bend over to pick it up, thus revealing my ass and cunt in all their glory. The young male proprietor naturally is watching me all along, and he has all he can do to contain himself. Sometimes he'll rush over and before I even get a chance to get up, he sticks his enormous prick in me – in my asshole, in my cunt – no matter

– and pumps to our hearts' delight.

Sometimes he won't approach me, so I'll take a few magazines to him to purchase and say, “Boy, I'll bet you get horny working in a place like this,” or “You should have a back room where horny females like me can get some fucking when they need it – like right now.” He looks at me with lust and tells me they do have such a room! He directs me and in I go with my throbbing body. What should be in there but three gorgeous guys, and I direct the show. Wow – have you ever had all three holes fucked simultaneously?

Another great feeling is to be held by two guys and raised up and down on a third guy's prick – first slowly and then with progressive speed.

After all this, I still want more variety. I take one guy into the adjoining shower with me and ask him to pee on me – yes

– pee on my boobs and tummy and cunt. That's exciting! After that, I bend over on all fours and tell him to “stick it up my ass,” which he obligingly does.

This particular fantasy usually ends about here. This very morning, I went to the bookstore to act this out (at least in the initial stages) only to find out they had gone out of business.

Would you believe that? And I was
ready!
All I had on was a white peasant blouse off-the-shoulders and a short peasant type skirt – no undies! If I had bent over or if a good wind had come along, I either would've been arrested or raped – maybe both. I sure was disappointed and frustrated! I went home and masturbated with an artificial banana, which, believe me, was no substitute for a cock (or cocks).

97

Fantasy 2:
I have tremendous exhibitionist urges – like the bending over previously described. I get a lot of these ideas from looking at magazine photos. I'd LOVE to perform a strip act which culminated in fucking the whole damn male audience. I'd like to masturbate manually or with cucumbers or whatever on stage and drive men to distraction.

Fantasy 3:
I'd like to be casually dressed in some public place as a department store with my button-down-the-front blouse open just far enough to let a boob show from the side for the benefit of male passersby. Occasionally, someone grabs it and starts tearing my clothes off from lust.

Fantasy 4:
Here's something I actually did a few weeks ago.

I again had on no underwear, and I parked my car in a parking lot next to a tall building where construction was being carried out. There were workmen a few floors above me, so I decided to give them a treat…. I pulled my skirt up (in the car) and began to masturbate with my finger. After a few minutes, I had quite an appreciative audience. I would've liked screwing one or more of them, but time pressures didn't allow. Alas!

Fantasy 5:
I'd love to be seeing a porno film in a theater – I can feel and see myself getting hot and wet because the film is really turning me on. All of a sudden, I feel a strange hand on my thigh slowly heading for my black tiny bikini panties. The hand reaches its mark and finds me wet and ready. To avoid creating too much of a disturbance, I remove the panties, and he opens his fly. I move over and sit on his lap thereby causing his twelve-inch-long sex tool to go easily and smoothly into my burning sex hole-up and down I go till we exhaust ourselves in climax. Then we part and he moves to a different location in the darkened theater. I've never seen his face – it wasn't necessary.

I just now stuck my finger up my twat as I'm writing this –

my god – I don't even feel human – just one whole sex machine.

Fantasy 6:
At other times, I see myself as a teacher of middle-to-late teen years boys. They don't especially turn me on, but I'd like to sit on the desk with my legs apart and turn THEM on by letting them see my sex organs “accidentally.” 98

Sometimes, a cooperative fellow teacher (male) comes into the room, and we demonstrate to them “proper” oral lovemaking.

He undresses me slowly and completely, and I again sit on the desk – now completely naked. He asks me to sit with my legs apart so the whole class can see my cunt and asshole.
He
spreads my labia part and describes my female anatomy to the class. While he's touching and describing, I'm going crazy and am moving my body about in wild abandon. The boys at their desks are one-by-one opening their flies to let their cocks escape. Here and there, I see a fountain of semen exploding. My fellow teacher now goes down on me by titillating my clitoris with his tongue. He goes down slowly until his tongue slips into my vagina, and his finger is up my ass. I'm still on the desk. By now, boys are fucking boys and several are clawing at me – sucking my nipples and trying to move the teacher out of the way so they can get at me. This goes on and on….

Fantasy 7:
I
really get turned on by looking at naked men in
Playgirl
. While looking, I sometimes imagine myself at home with minimal revealing clothing on – maybe a see-through shortie nightgown. I've been looking at myself in the full-length mirror in the bedroom and admiring my body. In front of the mirror, I've been executing some bumps and grinds in various stages of partial disrobing. I've also been watching myself masturbate, but this never really satisfies me, so I'm in one hell of a bad way when there's a knock on the front door. I go to the living room, peek through the blinds, and see a deliveryman with a package for me. By this time, he's really banging on the door, so I figure, “Oh, shit, if he's in such a hurry, I'll just open up.” And open up I do – both the door and myself. When I open the door, he asks me to sign for the package; as I am signing, he is looking. When I finish signing, it is my turn to look at his crotch. Needless to say, it is really bulging! He is standing slightly inside the door, so as I reach to close it behind him, my nipples brush his bare arm. That's all he needs.

Other books

Rebel Betty by Michaels, Carla
Gran Sol by Ignacio Aldecoa
Last Night's Kiss by Shirley Hailstock
Enemies Within by Matt Apuzzo, Adam Goldman
The Accidental Courtesan by Cheryl Ann Smith
The Secrets We Left Behind by Susan Elliot Wright
Travels With Charley by John Steinbeck
Deliver Me From Evil by Alloma Gilbert