FOREWORD (16 page)

She takes her mouth away, rises to her knees. Bending down, she lays her tits on either side of my aching balls and envelops my cock with her mouth. Her come-slick fingers go to my nipples and touch and squeeze them as I pump in and out of her mouth. Faster and faster moves her head and my hips. I can bear it no longer. I arch my back and pour my hot come into her eager, slurping mouth. The golden come runs out the sides of her mouth and down her chin; she tries to catch every drop. There’s so much she can’t possibly swallow it all.

“Oh, my God,” she cries, “you taste so good! Sweet, warm, and delicious!”

After many days and nights of loving, my wife tells me that when she swallows my come it creates a fantastic urge to fuck or suck me about a day later. She says the urge peaks at Men In Love

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about twenty-four hours and just about drives her crazy for an hour or so, then fades.

I decide to test this theory and one night fill a medicine bottle that has an eye-dropper top with my golden come.

There is a very lovely young girl at work and I have dreamed of making love to her. She is the target of my test.

One day I see this lovely girl make a cup of tea. She is called out for a moment and I take the opportunity to sweeten her tea with some of the contents of my medicine bottle. Observing her habits, I make it a point to be close by when she takes her morning cup of tea. I do this for three days.

By the fourth day I am beginning to feel foolish, nothing has happened, and I make up my mind that the whole experiment is a bust. However, at eleven thirty, in walks the girl and asks to speak with me about a problem she’s having. I’m very busy at that moment and ask her to return in about twenty minutes (I’m pressing my luck here). At eleven fifty she’s back and appears very agitated. She sits next to my desk and we begin talking. I ask why she wishes to speak with me (I’m not her boss) and she says she’s having problems with her job, can’t talk to her boss, and wants my advice. We go on this way and by five after twelve the office is deserted except for us. She says she really needs my help and begins to cry. I stand, get a Kleenex, and take it to her. She stands, accepts the tissue, and says, “The problem isn’t work.

The problem is ... well, really it’s ... (she begins to cry again) oh, hold me, just hold met”

I immediately put my arms around her. I’m not sure, has my experiment worked or is she really in some kind of trouble? She lifts her face from my shoulder and looks into my eyes. The look is long and slowly our faces move toward each other and we kiss, long and deep. As I kiss her, I stroke her hair, it’s soft as silk, and pull her body to me. She responds by arching her back and pushing her pelvis into me.

After more kisses, I kiss my way down her throat and onto her soft, firm breasts. I unbutton her blouse and begin to kiss Nancy Friday

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and suck her nipples. Her response is to stand and softly moan.

From here the fantasy may take a number of directions.

Some of the common themes are as follows: 1. I make love to the girl and end up fucking her on the floor, next to my desk.

2. After kissing and sucking her tits, I eat her cunt till she comes. She then sucks me and swallows all my come.

3. After kissing her tits, she drops to her knees and pulls out my prick and makes love to it till I come all over her face and tits.

4. After eating her cunt, I turn her over my desk and fuck her from behind as I knead her tits and she rubs her clit.

5. I fuck her on my desk till we come together. After a short rest, she sucks me to a full erection and begs me to fuck her in the ass.

I now know that I possess the greatest aphrodisiac in the world: my own come!

Why a man’s unambivalent love of her vagina opens a woman’s heart was the subject of the last chapter. This one explores a parallel emotion. Why are men equally won by women who accept and love their semen? Someone who lets him taste it on her lips; who shows she feels some of the secret pride he has always had for “the sacred fluid” as Theo (above) puts it – with none of the repugnance he has simultaneously come to fear on the part of women. In fact, Hamilton’s fantasy (above) turns his semen into such “thick, golden fluid” that his wife becomes a love slave when she drinks it.

He has discovered he possesses “the greatest aphrodisiac in the world.”

Am I overemphatic in my belief that oral love, oral sex, reinforces self-love, which, in turn, is the necessary base on which to build belief that we are lovable to someone else, Men In Love

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too? Isn’t our very first experience of love oral? Isn’t mother’s withdrawal of the breast from our lips among the earliest signs that love can be lost? One of the first blows to self-respect was learning that various emissions from the body are unacceptable.

Psychoanalysts have long noted the unconscious mingling together in many men’s minds of semen, urine, and feces –

all three are emissions from the body. Toilet training taught the young boy what mother thought about the last two. A few years later, whatever he himself might feel at the sight of his first nocturnal emission, he knew what she would think if she found stains on his bedsheets.

Fortunately, there is one area of his body mother doesn’t know about. She doesn’t have a penis. To her, this is a warning that here are mysteries she had better not tamper with. To the boy, it is a visible sign that he is different from mother. If she does try to inhibit him, from what authority does she speak?

What can she know about semen? It is the sign of manhood, of sexuality and shared male experience – an arrow pointing him away from home. The boy and his friends once played elaborate pissing and shitting games together. When he is old enough to ejaculate, his semen becomes another door closed on mother and her rules. All these activities –

which once almost lost him mother – have been rebelliously turned into secret male rituals, naughty but fun.

Ideas like these are abhorrent to little girls who are identified with mother’s body for life. Think of the parallel between the boy’s approach to semen and the young girl’s view of menstruation: Women’s problems of shame and humiliation at bleeding stem from a lifelong association with mother in which everything that emanates from the body is suspect.

A male critic reviewing a recent book on menstruation commented that if men bled once a month, they’d probably have turned it into a triumphant assertion of manhood. Which is what they’ve done, instead, with semen.

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I do not wish to promote the idea that boys make their assertion of independence from mother without guilt. These differences between the sexes are shades of gray, not black and white. Among themselves, men are proud of their semen.

In porn feature films, it is customary for the male star to withdraw just before the climax. In real life, men hate coitus in-terruptus. But in these movies, they want to see something that speaks powerfully to their emotions – even more powerfully than sex brought to orgasm; the camera zooms in just as the hero comes, and the screen is filled with gallons of spurting semen. It is not a homosexual desire that the audience is expressing so much as identification with the hero; they are proud of this sign of potency as if it were their own.

On the other hand, their resentment that women may not feel the same is shown in the popularity of those twenty-five-cent movie machines in Times Square where women are forced to drink semen from champagne goblets – and love it.

From this difference in perception, this anxiety that women do not value semen as highly as they do, men fall from certainty. Just as a woman may feel most deeply accepted to be loved during her menstrual period, so does a man feel most loved when a woman drinks every drop of his orgasmic “sacred fluid.”

As far back as I can remember, I’ve resented the idea that sexuality is determined by our first years of life. How could anything as infantile as toilet training have to do with what goes on between adults in the bedroom? Years of research have shown me that when I quarrel with Freud, he is often right.

Without resort to psychoanalytic theory, how can we begin to explain men like Theo? All we would be able to say is that he sounds freaky, dirty. Adjectives that express our hostility to his ideas, but explain nothing about the mysteries of human nature.

To the Freudian, this eagerness to dismiss Theo with just an unthinking cliché or two is evidence of our own strong repression of toilet training humiliations. Theo is in fact a Men In Love

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vivid reminder of the frustrations that live on in all of us, no matter how many years have passed since we learned continence. To the two-year-old mind – unconscious remnants of which are still evident in Theo’s fantasy – anything that comes out of his body is him. He wants the woman in his present grown-up life to make up for the insults inflicted on him by another woman in his distant past. What better way than by teaching dozens of women the joys of drinking his sperm?

JOHN

I am thirty-five years old and a lawyer by profession. I have been married fifteen years and have had a fairly active sexual life. Fantasies have always played an important role in my sex life.

I still remember many sexual incidents that occurred in my youth. One, in particular, has played an important role in shaping my fantasies. It happened when I was about eleven. I went swimming one day at the municipal pool. The pool contained a locker room for changing, and there were small enclosed rooms available for an additional fee which afforded privacy. In the locker room, a man about thirty years old struck up a conversation with me and offered me the use of his locker room. When I went in, he followed me, closing and locking the door behind us. I was a little alarmed by this but I went ahead and undressed in his presence. As soon as I was naked, he began to fondle my cock and balls. I was frightened and submitted without protest. Then he had me he down on a small bench while he sucked me to an immature climax.

When he was finished, he removed his swimming suit and stood in front of me, legs slightly apart (I was now sitting on the bench).

Taking hold of my hand, he directed it to his cock and had me “feel” him until he became stiff. Then he made me suck him until he shot his load into my mouth. When he came, he Nancy Friday

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held my head to prevent my pulling away, and I was forced to swallow most of his cum.

I kept this incident to myself, but took it in stride. In fact, over the years I have fantasized about it while masturbating, and have enjoyed it in retrospect. I think, though, that it planted the seed which has ripened into my later fantasies.

These usually involve a dominant/submissive relationship with me generally assuming the submissive role. This is exactly opposite to my outward personality, which is aggressive and competitive.

Aside from some isolated experiences with mutual masturbation during my early adolescence, I have engaged in homosexual sex only one other time since the experience described above. That experience involved a youth with whom I had engaged in mutual masturbation, and took place a few years after my marriage. (Thinking back, I must have been about twenty-seven at the time). My friend visited us one evening after a long absence from town, and I took him home. I knew he was a homosexual, and on the way home he described some of his experiences. After a while, he suggested that we stop somewhere along the way. We were both a little high, and I pulled over on a dark side street. For a few seconds we continued to talk, before I seized the initiative and reached over and grasped his cock. Without wasting time on preliminaries, I unfastened his pants and pulled them down. I ran my hand over his cock and balls for a minute or two before taking it in my mouth. I think I gave him a pretty good blow job and I enjoyed the feel of his smooth cock filling my mouth.

When he came after about five minutes I didn’t think twice about swallowing his cum. After I finished, he sucked me off.

I’ve seen him only twice since then and we didn’t have an opportunity on either occasion to repeat this experience.

My fantasies fall roughly into four categories. In the first category, I am once again forced to perform homosexual sex.

In one fantasy, for example, I am alone in a movie theatre when two young men come in and sit on either side of me. I am alarmed and try to leave, but they won’t let me pass. They Men In Love

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threaten me unless I do what they want. First, I am forced to pull my pants down around my ankles while they take turns feeling my cock and balls. I feel vulnerable and humiliated sitting there half naked, but my prick becomes very hard nevertheless. Just when I am on the brink of orgasm, they make me kneel on the floor and suck their cocks. They both shoot huge amounts of sperm into my mouth, some of which dribbles out the sides and streams down my face. As a final humiliation, they jack me off, directing my cum into my pants. I must then leave the theater with wet, white globs of sperm dotting my pants, and with dried cum streaking my face.

In my second group of fantasies I am dominated by an attractive woman. Sometimes she is alone; sometimes there is more than one woman present; and sometimes there is either a male or female “slave” present; and sometimes the woman is accompanied by a dominant male.

In a typical fantasy, I go to the house of a very beautiful but cruel woman. As soon as I enter she slaps my face several times and orders me to strip. I notice that several other women are present and hesitate, but comply when she slaps me again. It is very humiliating to take off my clothes in the presence of so many women, and they watch me intently and with amusement. When I am naked, the woman ties my hands behind my back and puts a dog collar and leash around my neck. Then she leads me around the room, letting the other women “examine” me. I am forbidden to have an erection, but one of the women takes my cock in her mouth and I immediately become hard. This infuriates my mistress, who forces me to lie across her lap while she spanks me with a hairbrush until I cry and beg her to stop. I promise to do anything she says. She then releases my hands and makes me