The New Black Lace Book of Women's Sexual Fantasies (4 page)

'Because you are a lovely lady.' He is sincere – for the
moment.

'We'll see,' I prevaricate, thinking, it was great while it lasted,
and I'll make it last that little bit longer. 'I've booked the room
for the night.'

When I'm lonely now and wanting to feed a sexual fantasy I
remember this.

Reader, I married him!

We were together 25 years until he died in 2002.

T, age 47
Bisexual
Single, occasionally sexually active
High School diploma
State worker
Massachusetts, USA

It takes a man to know what he's doing to get me to peak to
orgasm as opposed to when I was younger, when all it took
was a touch. I prefer passion versus just jumping into sex right
away. I like to be kissed and touched and hugged. My favourite
position is on top with a good hard strong penis. I like to ride.
What holds me back is not being able to find a man who feels
the same way. They all seem to be selfish and quick, or they
just don't know how. The one or two that knew how are already
taken (married). That's a turn-off after a while. What turns me
on is being with an attractive female, making love to her the
way I want to be made love to. Also feeling the hard body of
a good-looking man moving all over me and letting me ride
him to orgasm. I do wish I knew how to approach females (I'm
in the closet). I don't know how to go about finding females
that are bi or gay. I'd very much like to explore that avenue
now. I've only been with a woman twice in my life and I very
much enjoyed it. I find myself looking at attractive females. I
fantasise about what it would be like to have sex with them
and what I'd like to do to them – how I'd hold them or kiss
them and where, how I'd like to bring them to orgasm.

Naja, age 37
Heterosexual
Celibate
No children
Some college
Customer Service Representative
Michigan, USA

I like men who are self-confident, but not condescending. A
confident man tends to be a great lover. I have always loved
books and words. I love to have a man talk/whisper in my ear
or neck. I fantasise several times a day. Since I am in a current
dry spell, my fantasy is an oldie but goodie. I would just like
to have my brains screwed out. Very little talking or politeness
is involved. Just fucking.

Karen, age 33
Heterosexual
Live-in relationship/marriage
Children
Health Advisor/University student
Southeast England, UK

Sexy men turn me on. For me, sexy is a brilliant mind, dry wit,
relaxed and easygoing, beautiful expressive eyes, a toned body,
long fingers, a smile, etc., etc. No one man has to possess all
these qualities, one or more will do. What is sexy about the
above list is the person behind them – basically a man who's
mysterious, mischievous and self-confident.

In my earlier years my sexual imagination was based purely
on how a man looked – i.e., he must be good-looking. Now I
want to look beyond what I see. My sexual imagination is
sparked by curiosity. I can now look at a man on the train with
a frazzled expression over his laptop and think, 'I wonder how
he looks in the throes of passion or when he's just come?' I
then want to dig deeper to find out what makes him laugh
out loud. A few moments later I've created a complete fantasy,
ending with him sliding a hand up my skirt and a quick hot
fuck in the (train) toilets. Interesting to note that, early on, the
men in my fantasies all looked the same – that is, they were
black men with big dicks. That's pretty much how it was in
reality, so I limited myself. Now I go there mentally with any
man with an average dick, because now it's more about the
sexual tension between the characters, how he uses his dick
and the foreplay involved.

My favourite fantasy is a late evening encounter at the gym
in an empty studio with my personal trainer. I've not put it
into words before, but will attempt to do so now. I'd never met
James this late before for training. I usually saw him in the
mornings, but he called early to cancel our morning session
and rescheduled it for 9 p.m. 'Car problems,' he'd said. As soon
as I arrived we began our workout – none of our usual chit-chat
and easy banter I noticed, and he pushed me harder than he'd
ever done before. I'd had a stressful day myself so I welcomed
the challenge.

I felt the tension draining from my body as we began sparring.
I quite liked this part of the workout because I pretended James
was the source of my frustration, and I kicked and punched at
him with force. As the workout got more intense, our eyes
locked and we began communicating silently. His eyes challenged
me to work harder and vent, and mine told him that I
would. 'Why are you so frustrated?' hazel eyes asked. 'Because
I'm horny and I really, really want to fuck you!' brown eyes
responded. 'Really!' his eyes narrowed and mine narrowed in
return. We retraced our steps until I was backed against the
wall. Without taking his eyes off mine, he slid off his protective
hand gear and I slid off my gloves. I took a drink and he took
off the protective leg gear I was kicking against. All this time
our eyes never strayed from each other's. He walked towards
me and held out his hands. I slipped mine into his and he
pulled me close. My breathing became erratic and almost
stopped when his lips touched mine. It was so gentle my eyes
closed and my legs felt weightless. James backed me against
the wall and slipped open my mouth with his tongue. He tasted
of sex and that raised my pulses to a new level. I sucked gently
on his lower lip while he teased my top lip. His hands delivered
little electric shocks wherever they went. He groped my ass
and pulled me hard towards him so that I could feel his rigid
erection. I began to moan quite loudly, which echoed around
the empty studio. I opened my eyes when his hands slipped
into my leotard and found my wet pussy. 'Can I touch you?'
his eyes asked. 'Hell yes!' mine responded. He slipped his finger
inside my wetness and I groaned deeply. I began to grind
against his finger and slipped my hand inside his shorts. As I
touched him I felt my body go weak against him and the kiss
deepened. His cock was hot and throbbing, hard as steel. I could
hear our pleasure sounds reverberating around the empty
room. I longed for him to lay me down and bury his cock inside
me. The only light in the room was the slits of street lighting
through the blinds so I couldn't see him very well. I released
his cock and steadied his finger inside me. Our eyes met again
and mine pleaded, 'I want you now, fuck me please!' His eyes
darkened in response and he caught his breath. I knew he
wanted to, yet he made no move to release me from my
standing position against the wall. 'I am so close to the edge,
let me feel you inside me before I explode,' my eyes begged.
He lowered his head and took my lips in his mouth so that I
couldn't see his refusal. Be patient, I told myself, but couldn't
form a coherent thought when he was kissing me like that!
With his finger inside me, he began stroking my clit with his
thumb and I felt my orgasm building. I desperately wanted to
spread open my legs and clench his cock with my hot wet
pussy. In my fantasies he'd been naked and I caressed his
muscles with unbridled pleasure while he rose above me time
and again, driving me to the brink. But in this moment it was
not to be. My hand tightened around his cock and I stroked
him as though he were fucking me. Our breathing and moaning
meant we were both about to explode. James slowed his hand
movements down to maximise the pleasure for me and I
increased the pressure for him. Sliding two fingers inside me,
James grabbed my ass with his other hand so that his wrist
was putting even more pressure on my clit. I had to grab him
with both hands as I came. My body spasmed involuntarily for
ages and I sounded as though I were weeping. Feeling selfish,
I reached for his cock to pleasure him as much as he had pleasured
me, but James stopped me. 'Why?' I asked, using my voice
for the first time that evening. 'Because I can't sleep with my
clients. It's a sacking offence. If you pleasure me, I would feel
that I had crossed the line and it would be difficult for us to
work together after tonight.'

Releasing a deep breath I didn't realise I was holding, I
gathered my things and left. I continued having aftershocks
while walking towards my car as my clit was still quite swollen.
I wasn't satisfied. I had come but I still wanted him desperately.
I knew the only thing that would satisfy me was his cock inside
me, fucking me hard. I'd be patient, my time would come.

Sara, age 20
Bisexual
Steady relationship, not live-in
No children
University student
Illinois, USA

The best sex I ever had happened with my boyfriend. After
polishing off a bottle of champagne together, we made love.
We were making out, and the clothes came off. He ran his
hands over my whole body, then followed his hands with his
lips, slowly down to my pussy, then used his tongue to pleasure
me while playing with my nipples with his fingers. Once I
started to get really hot, I got on top of him in reverse-cowgirl
and leaned back, moving myself up and down his cock, while
he used his fingers on my clit to bring me to orgasm. He
followed soon after. Unfortunately, I don't often come during
sex, so this is one of the few times I can remember that I actually
did, and it therefore must count as the best sex I've had
so far.

Tight-lacing corsets are a huge turn-on for me, whether I'm
the one laced up or whether they're on someone else. In erotic
fiction or films, I prefer women over men, despite only ever
having had sexual encounters with men. The same things
continue to turn me on, plus the comfort of being in a loving
relationship. I wish I could be more imaginative, but so far my
fantasies are pretty much limited to things I've personally
experienced. I fantasise about my boyfriend a lot, especially
when we're apart for long periods of time. I like to replay
previous encounters with him in my mind, or imagine what
will happen the next time we're together in bed.

Alison, age 43
Heterosexual
Live-in relationship/marriage
Graduate degree
English teacher
Malaysia and China

I've written my 'Thetis' fantasy as a short story.

By some miracle, you find you have some time to show me
the yacht. You know I would like to see it, although I am much
more interested in the places where you play, the engine rooms,
even the bilge tanks, rather than the luxury spaces that most
people enjoy.

You text me: 'You free? Come to port, something to show
you!' For you, of course, I am free, and although I was having
lunch in Poble Nou with some friends, I hop in a taxi and am
with you in about thirty minutes. I'm not really dressed for a
trip around a yacht, wearing that same yellow skirt with high
heels that I wore to the Princess, and just a cream cardigan,
buttoned up.

There are people about, still lots to be done, people doing
whatever they do on boats, splicing main braces and heaving
to, so when we meet we can only do the Spanish kiss on the
cheek and there's absolutely no question of holding hands
except, of course, when you help me over steps and other tricky
manoeuvres like that.

I don't really know the layout of boats, so I can't really quite
imagine the route. Maybe you can tell me, but we start on the
decks, you showing me the Jacuzzi, empty, the sun lounge. We
are aware that people are popping in and out of doors, but the
desire between us is electric; we are smiling as I ask you ridiculous
questions and you try hard to answer them so I can
understand, only for me to ask you a really clever one to challenge
you, which you like.

We go inside into the owner's rooms; here is it quieter,
hushed, the air very still. Suddenly we start to talk more quietly,
we stand closer, our bodies almost touching, as we walk
around, you touching my shoulder, ostensibly to guide me; I
rest my hand on your back, possibly for support. We just need
to touch each other!

You throw open the owner's bedroom suite with a flourish,
and we both burst out giggling. We know exactly what we'd
like to do, and the knowledge that we can't is both tantalising
and hilarious. You make some very lewd suggestions about the
size of the bed, and I pretend to be offended and flounce off
into the bathroom. You move in behind me, quickly closing
and locking the door.

I am standing in front of the big mirror above the sink and
you come up behind me, slowly; you put your arms around me
and I lean back into you. Silence. It feels good at last to be so
close to each other again. We can feel each other breathing
deeply. You bend down and slowly kiss me on the side of the
neck. I gasp, your lips, so sensual, so soft, gently caress my skin
and with one hand you lift my hair and move your kisses to
the back of my neck. I can see your head bent low in the mirror
and I raise my hands to reach into your thick hair. With your
other hand, you reach into my cardigan, softly stroking the
skin of my chest and then my breasts until you reach a nipple;
already hard, you gently caress it, and again I moan with deep
deep pleasure and you smile happily.

I try to turn around, and beg you to kiss me on the lips, but
you won't. You stand up straight and with both hands you
undo my cardigan, watching your hands, watching my eyes in
the mirror as you do so. I keep my eyes fixed on your eyes
in the mirror, enjoying the sensations of your fingers on my
flesh. Suddenly, with a quiet and gentle movement, you pull
both breasts out of my bra, holding them in your hands,
weighing them, as if they were some precious commodity. I
lean back into you even more, pressing my body into yours,
feeling something hard in my back. We both smile at each
other. Again, I beg you to kiss me on the lips and again you
say no! You are just enjoying watching your fingers caress my
breasts and nipples, the hard feel of them, watching as a flush
comes to my cheeks and chest.