Forbidden Flowers (33 page)

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Authors: Nancy Friday

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

BOOK: Forbidden Flowers
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Most women can only admit to sexual fantasy if it is placed in a lighthearted, non-threatening context. Show someone an advertisement for a movie with Paul Newman in bed with 226

Ann-Margret. Then suggest to her that a fantasy is merely a little balloon over her head, a little picture of herself taking Ann-Margret's place, if only for an instant. Ah, yes – she will smile – we all get these funny ideas occasionally, don't we?

But ask if she might entertain a fantasy of being in bed with her husband's best friend while he, her husband, is actually fucking her – and all the defenses of heaven and hell break loose.
I am
impugning both her and her husband's sexuality!

The thought is so frightening, the consequent angry defense is so overwhelming that how can she admit she has sexual fantasies to me – much less to herself? “When I'm with my husband, we turn each other .on so much we don't
need
sexual fantasies, thank you!”

The whole effort is very understandable, and all too human.

In the end, I believe the entire confusion grows out of misunderstanding one word:
need.

What is all this talk of “needing” a fantasy? Do you “need” a martini in those romantic prefucking hours … do you “need” that terrific background music … do you merely “need” him to put it in and pump away? In all these matters, it's not a question of needing. We try to make an art of lovemaking; a drink, a bit of music are ingredients of the art –
and
for many
people,
so is a sexual fantasy!

If a sexual fantasy helps turn us on to a higher erotic pitch than we ordinarily reach, it does not mean we are deficient lovers. What it means is that you can't bring up a young woman to say
no, no
, for the first twenty years of her life and then expect her to be able to loosen the grip of habit and repression overnight just because a marriage ceremony has been performed; the sexual brakes are built too deeply into our very nerves, muscles, and blood cells.

In his recent study,
The Female Orgasm,
Dr. Seymour Fisher pinpoints the single greatest reason why so many women are unable to reach orgasm: they are unable “to let go.” We have been trained to distrust sexual excitement when we feel it beginning to build up within ourselves; there have been too many warnings about “going too far,” and “letting things get out. of hand.” If something happens, it is the woman's fault 227

– that's the accepted folk wisdom our mothers tried to install in us. We are thus given the responsibility for putting the damp-ers not only on our own sexuality, but on the man's as well. Is it any surprise that many a woman remains overcontrolled in bed, even when she is there by her own choice, with a man she loves?

Women without number must have discovered on their own, as I – did, that sexual fantasies are an almost never fail method of releasing yourself from a puritanic bondage. You may have intellectually discarded the old sexual rules and inhibitions long ago, but they still grip you emotionally, crippling your sexual response.
This may be true no matter how ardent or
skilled your lover may be!
“I have a variety of fantasies which dance through my head on those' occasions when I can't seem to get into the sexual act with my lover,” writes Lynn. “It has nothing to do with what a great fuck he is, because he is that: fantastic! But sometimes my head just won't turn off everything that's been going on all day. I can't relax, and so I just switch on one of [my fantasies].”

Until the publication of
My
Secret Garden,
there had never been any public acknowledgment of the undoubted fact that sexual fantasy was a great ,aid to female eroticism. It is as if society did not want to grant women so much sexual power, so much erotic self-stimulation. Like so many billions of docile radio or television sets, we were supposed to wait until we had been “turned on” by men.

Unfortunately, women themselves did not help each other break out of this conspiracy of silence; it left us passive victims of the male mystique of what sex was. We did not feel free enough to discuss our sexual fantasies and ideas even with our best friends (until only the most recent years).

Thus, each woman was left feeling isolated, guilty, and alone with her sexual fantasies … convinced she was some kind of freak or pervert if she entertained or enjoyed these ideas. Her husband or lover had never mentioned having any sexual fantasies himself; nor in his idle talk about the women he knew before her (to which she listened more carefully than he knew) did she ever pick up the slightest clue that other 228

women had sexual fantasies like hers. “… I am writing this almost stealthily,” says Jan, after an unflinching catalog of some of the most erotic fantasies in this book, “as I would be embarrassed at being discovered …. I was never able to be very open about sex, because my husband … is the romantic sort, and believes very much in the sanctity of marriage.” While she feels stimulated by X-rated films, she can't go to them, because her husband doesn't approve. “Some of my fantasies are very similar to those of the other women that you published,” she finishes her letter. “I guess we are not alone no matter how bizarre we think our own are.”

“Your book was excellent,” writes Kate. “I thought my fantasies were abnormal, and I felt very guilty about them. Now I realize almost everyone has them.”

It is time for this kind of unnecessary guilt to stop, for women to realize that no matter how extraordinary the sexual events they like to imagine that increase their passion while in bed with their lovers, they are not alone.

Lynn

I have a variety of fantasies which dance through my head on those occasions when I can't seem to get into the sexual act with my lover. It has nothing to do with what a great fuck he is, because he is that: fantastic! But sometimes my head just won't turn off everything that's been going on all day, I can't relax, and so I just switch on one of the following:
Fantasy 1:
I am having sex with two guys, neither of whom is my lover. They are both going down on me simultaneously.

This may sound impossible, but the one kind of acts like relief man for the other, so that the rhythm never stops, and they are both insatiable. I should add that I take a long time to come, so having two men relieves me of worrying about one of them getting tired.

Fantasy 2:
Sometimes when my lover is in the mood and I'm kind of distracted, we leave the television on with the sound turned off. I make sure there's a channel turned on with at least one terrific-looking man, and then while we're making 229

love, I like to think that he and everyone else on the show are watching
our
act and loving it.

Fantasy 3:
I will close my eyes and imagine a crowd, maybe on the street, in a store, even a crowd at a party. The whole group is fascinated watching me masturbate, watching the beautiful expressions on my face. Eventually, they all begin to masturbate too.

Fantasy 4:
I often fantasize this on my way to work as well as during sex: that I am on a crowded bus, and, without anyone minding or exclaiming, I just reach down inside this good-looking guy's trousers and masturbate him. All the while, he's standing there, holding on to the strap and going weak in the knees as I bring him closer and closer to climax. He never looks at me, but I know he is just praying I won't stop. If I am sitting in front of him in my fantasy, I will often lean forward and put his prick in my mouth just before he comes.

Fantasy 5:
Very often the men in my fantasies are strangers.

More often than not. I find it terribly exciting if, while they are fucking me, they also use the most profane language imaginable. I don't really like men to whisper words in my ear while we're really fucking; somehow it seems so fake. But the strangers in my fantasies know just how to use these words, and not only is there no embarrassment, but it is madly exciting. For instance, they say things like. “My cock is in your cunt, and it's on fire … .” “I want to come all over you, in your ears, in your ass, etc.”

I don't always use these fantasies, but they sure help me forget about the problems of the day when I want to pay all my attention to sex and just relax and get into it.

Good luck and please understand that I really do love my man …. It's just that the fantasies help me love him more.

Jan

Happily married for many years to a lusty man, and having borne several children, nevertheless, I had not experimented with any kinky sex, mainly because of my husband's innocence of such things. An early fantasy I would employ during sex to 230

further stimulate myself would be that I was an innocent young girl propositioned by a sensuous older man. I would be kept by him in great luxury (this was during a time in real life when we were quite desperately poor) in return for a surrender of my virginity and the willingness to submit to his every whim. I agree, and he deflowers me on an obstetrical table, with my feet in stirrups.

After the initial loss of my cherry, he proceeds to teach me exactly what to do, and arouses me with aphrodisiacs, so that I am dripping and begging for him to fuck me. He has me walk on all fours and beg like a dog for it. He sadistically makes me wait and suffer mightily until he satisfies my lust.

After several months, he is satisfied that I am properly trained, and he take me to a secret place – a huge manor house somewhere (afterward, when I read the
Story of O
… it sounded so similar) when I am told that I will be on exhibition for members of his club, a club devoted to eroticism and sensuality.

Other girls and I are kept naked and chained in cages part of the day, while the club members examine us like animals in a zoo. At mealtime, we are the waitresses, and submit to being fondled and roughly inspected internally as well as externally.

We are told to bend over to pick up a purposely dropped spoon, and fingers are then inserted into our cunts.

Breasts are weighed and measured, rulers inserted into cunts, and sizes recorded. We find out why that evening.

There is a special show, an exhibition of the specialties of the various girls and their “benefactors.” The men sit in a circle around a stage, and the show begins. A tiny girl no bigger than a child is led in, followed by a huge black man. His penis is enormous. It turns out that she has systematically been enlarged by the insertion of bigger and bigger dildos, and now they are putting her to the test. But no, it is still too big, and she writhes in pain. Finally, he succeeds, and with her legs around his waist, he manipulates her against him.

The next act is a huge cow of a woman, with udder-like breasts and a huge bouncy ass. She does a dance for her audience, and everything shakes like jelly. Her cunt is enormous, 231

and, therefore, two little men, dwarfs almost, come in and both penetrate her at the same time. Every expression on her face is mirrored in the eyes of the watching men. When she comes, she bellows like a cow.

By this time, having fantasized all this, I am usually really aroused, and often didn't finish the fantasy. I never get the chance to perform with my specialty.

Now, years later, having started to educate myself with the
Sensuous Woman,
followed by some of the more readily available erotic classics, my fantasies have changed somewhat.

Now I employ group scenes, myself and another woman, and other kinky combinations. Recently, we (my husband and I) went to see the
Devil and Miss Jones,
and I was partially repelled by seeing everything I'd read about in privacy in giant living color, but at the same time, I was fascinated, and the impressions' stayed with me for weeks afterward.

Actually, I am writing this almost stealthily, as I would be embarrassed at being discovered, therefore, all the typing er-rors.

I was never able to be very open about sex, because: my husband, although having a large carnal appetite, is the romantic sort and believes very much in the sanctity of marriage, and doesn't care for the X-rated films. He says he won't go again. It did stimulate me very much, and I would love to go again, provided it was a well-made film.

One of my present fantasies is ticked off when I see a local girl at the supermarket. She isn't beautiful, but somehow I am aroused by her. I imagine her naked, and I am caressing her. (I do this while caressing myself.) She never wears a bra, and I always notice dark nipples. under her clothing. This titillates me. Her breasts are large, and I love to play with them in my fantasy. I don'ts like to go down on her, but I do finger her cunt and fuck her with a large dildo. I sometimes drive her wild with a vibrator. I get a double dildo and slide it into both openings. She moans with delight and throws her body.; around and trembles uncontrollably. At this point in my, imaginings, I come.

232

A fantasy I employ when my husband and I are making it is that we are the center of attention at a large orgy in a sultan's opulent palace. The sultan is watching to make sure that his women are working properly. I must lift my ass high off the bed, or I will be punished. The punishment is being fucked in the ass by a large dog. At this point, I usually come.

Some of my fantasies are very similar to those of the other women that you published. I guess we are not alone no matter how bizarre we think our own are. Thank you for a needed research. I hope that I may have been of some help.

lsabel

I purchased
My Secret Garden
yesterday, and have completed reading it already. Needless to say, I found it fascinating and very enlightening.

I'm a twenty-four-year-old married woman. My husband is also twenty-four, and we have no children. We have a fairly good sex life. (We have been married three years.) I'm not what you'd call pretty. I'm average-looking and slightly overweight (fifteen pounds). My husband is fairly good-looking and about ten pounds overweight.

Last year, during our lovemaking, I just stopped reaching climax, although I'd had no trouble before then. My doctor can find no physical reason for this. Now, the only way I can achieve orgasm is to fantasize during our lovemaking.

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