What you have here is a book not written by a professional with a list of credentials a mile long. It was put together by me, and most of the words in it comes from mouths and minds other than mine. I helped, let's just say, tie it all together. I'm no psychiatrist or psychologist, I'm not a doctor or a social expert; and although I have a master's degree, I can't even give college credentials-the degree is in theater arts. Why, then, you ask, should this guy have done this book, and why should I read it?
Because I'm just another person. Like you. I eat and sleep and drive a car and masturbate. I travel and I read, I sometimes sit on my ass and do absolutely nothing. I have many interests, and one of them has been, for a long time, the subject of sexual fantasies. Both male and female. Then, suddenly, it seemed, the wave of women's liberation crashed over us, and there they were, studies of female sex dreams, and no end in sight. I read the books, from the best (Nancy Friday) to the schlock that look as though they'd been printed overnight and written even faster. I looked around for books about the male sex dreams, but I found none. I figured there was a need for one (mainly, I guess, because I wanted to buy and read one, and there wasn't one to buy and read). ("If you can't find a book to read, Tom, write it.") And so I began work on what you are now reading.
And what shall I call myself? The authoring of such a work, they tell me, demands some title. How about researcher? No, even that sounds too stuffy for my taste. How about a gatherer of information? I can see it on my tombstone: He Was a Gatherer of Information. Not bad.
Now you know my title. That's over with. You know the title of the book. That's over with. But what about the contents, what about the meat of the matter? There I have a few things to say.
Secret sex means the erotic fantasies of the male imagination. And what are fantasies? Fantasies are expressions of emotional needs, just like dreams, and particularly those that have not been satisfied. If they have been, new fantasies usually take their place-how much excitement is left in something you've already done? (This question is debated later in the book.) How can you look forward to doing something you've never done and probably will never do if you've already done it? Fantasies suggest an escape from reality-and for mat reason, they often produce guilt and frustration, and are kept very, very secret. They are among the most well-kept secrets in life. Most men I talked with in the course of putting this book together told me they were happy I was a stranger; they would never have been able to open up like that to their friends.
Some experts and many just-plain-folk make distinctions between fantasies, daydreams, and dreams. Fantasies are usually the most removed from reality, they tell me. A dream has been said to be "the disguised record of the dreamer's desires and anxieties, indicative of potential behavior." That quote comes from a well-known analyst who told me I can't quote him. Daydreams are something in between-dreams you can control, we could say.
In this book I make no distinction among the three. Most often, as you will see, we are discussing fantasies. I will talk to a man about what he consciously thinks when he's having sex, or when he's masturbating. He tells me a fantasy that he controls from the moment he starts thinking until the moment he comes. But what if that fantasy, the exact same scene, comes to him in his sleep? Does he, have control over it? Yes? No? What if he's sleeping on his wife's new satin sheets and wakes up to find them covered with semen? How much control did he have? Very little.
And what if the same man is sitting lazily at his desk and the hands on the clock suddenly become the figures of the people in his fantasy? He doesn't have to sit there and wait until he reaches an orgasm in his shorts-he has more control over his destiny than he had in bed the night before. He also doesn't have to continue thinking about it, he can erase it from his mind immediately and go back to his work. He isn't, on the other hand, sitting there with the conscious purpose of seeing those hands on the clock turn into naked people, either. He's in the middle of all those things-there is control, and there isn't. That, for our purposes, is a daydream.
But the important thing to remember is that they are all an important part of a person's sex life. Fantasies, daydreams, or dreams of a sexual nature are an integral part of man's mind. They are significant to happiness, to pleasure, to understanding, but because they are "secret" and so completely personal, they've been insulated and nearly hidden for too long. The few studies that have been written have been so clinical they put you to sleep on the first page. You need to go to medical school just to understand the terms.
Fantasizing, for most human beings, is a way of letting off the steam our unfulfilled desires have created. Fantasizing allows any man the power to create a reality better than reality, a reality in which he can be king if he wants to, or slave if that's his choice. And the amazing thing is, you never know what kind of fantasy is going to come out of any certain person. I was wrong time and time again when I saw a man and immediately, on the basis of his looks or age or the little I knew of his background, made a judgment that "he's going to tell me so-and-so." I came to find that even the most shy and seemingly dull men have outrageously vivid fantasy lives. I began to realize that a person's secret sex life can be a surprising antithesis to the personality the person projects in interesting. I think the hardest puzzle we could create would real life. Which made the making of this book all the more be to take this book and chop it up-list the fantasies in one column and the names and descriptions of the fantisizer in another. Then play "Match the Fantasy." No one could do it. Not even me.
Fantasy, it is said, keeps society balanced, on an even keel. Stops the rapists and murderers from actual contact with prospective victims; they rape and murder in the privacy of their own minds. Fantasy gives them release. Keeps them out of prison. I believe that is basically true, although here we're dealing with sexual fantasies only, and few of them really involve such extremes as rape and murder.
There is another function of fantasy which is more important to this gathering of secret sex thoughts: Fantasies make us feel good. We have better orgasms with fantasies. Making love to someone takes on another dimension when a fantasy is added to it. Talking a bit about fantasies can make for fine foreplay. Fantasy can give you that extra "kick" that elicits the response from your partner, male or female: "Wow, who turned you on tonight?"
Fantasies do more than that. They keep people sane. They save marriages. They relieve frustration, anxiety, insecurity, all those wonderful labels atop pages in your analyst's file. Fantasies probably save lives.
And yet there are men who still think they're mad because they have sex dreams. Men who feel terrible pangs of guilt because they thought of Ann-Margret when they should have been thinking of their wives of fifteen years. Men who think they're something less than men because they dream of fucking the boy next door rather than his sister. Men who think-presumptuously-that they're the only ones who have sex fantasies. For all you out there, whether you admit you feel guilty or not, this is the prime purpose of this book-to let you know that secret sex is good! To convince you that secret sex is normal! To show you that you're not the only one having secret sex! In other words, to relieve any guilt you may have and to help stimulate your imagination toward fantasies you may not as yet have had.
This book can do more than that. It can help you accept your fantasies, that secret vision of your potential sexual personality, and even get you to share them. In your lover's fantasy you can find hints, if not blatant statements, of the kind of sexual experience-usually psychological-he or she has yet to try. Sexual experience that he or she would really like to try. Sharing secret sex can be easier than you think. After reading this book, see if you don't think so.
But even if you don't ever get to the point of making your fantasies verbal, just the peace of mind you'll feel in knowing you're not the only one liking to put handcuffs on your old lady or wanting to get it on with other guys, or hoping someday while you're fucking a woman another guy will be doing you-just the peace of mind will be a worthwhile step toward a guilt-free sex life. "Hey, man, I'm not so strange after all!" I thought that, after hearing a few of my initial replies; I hope you'll say the same after finishing this.
In the foreword to Nancy Friday's My Secret Garden, "J," the author of The Sensuous Woman, says:
... much to my astonishment, asking a man about his sexual fantasies triggered a response similar to that of hitting an exposed nerve. My heart goes out to the poor soul who attempts to compile the first book on men's fantasies.
Hmmm. Thank you, "J," but it wasn't as difficult as you indicate. Either we talked to different men or the secret-sex climate has changed in the few years since Ms. Friday did her first study.
On the contrary, the men I talked to were eager to open up their fantasy lives to me. I couldn't get some of them off the phone. Some of the letters were encyclicals. The interviews were interesting, and we would talk for hours, even though I knew I would have to cut them down to a few minutes for the book. Men have a desire-a need?-to talk about their secret thoughts. Were women alone granted that sacred privilege? Hell no.
You probably want to know how it was done and whose fantasies you are reading. First of all, most of the men are identified. Identified enough to make them as real as they can be, but anonymous enough to protect them. As you will see, some of the "quickies" aren't identified, but there is no need for it. All in all, the men are like you. They range in age from eighteen to fifty-seven. They work on airplanes and cars, computers and pianos. They wear jeans and T-shirts, tuxedoes and double-knit suits. They go to the grocery store and church, the opera and porno films. They are unmarried, married, divorced, or have lovers. They are straight and gay, bisexual and, in some cases, not sure. They love and they hate, they laugh and they cry. They're from all over the country. They live in apartments and houses, cabins and beaches. They eat steak and potatoes, health foods and pizza. Told you they were just like you.
And how did I reach this wide segment of the population? First of all, when I made the commitment (to myself) to get this study going, I started on a small scale-asking friends and relatives and acquaintances. The results were hardly encouraging. My uncles at first pretended they had no fantasies, and later admitted if they really talked honestly about them I'd think they were "a little nuts" and would probably tell my aunts. That took care of them. My brothers, because we're also close friends, talked on and on-but a book can't be made on the fantasies of two brothers. (I decided, in the end, not to use any of their fantasies. Forgive me, guys, but I didn't want to be knocked for being prejudiced.) Friends seemed squeamish about telling me the dark secrets of their sexual appetites, and the acquaintances, though they were more open than the friends, seemed to stop at a point, as though they had some reserve about telling these things to someone they knew.
So I was left with my own fantasies and lots of hope. Where did I get the hope? From one person-a total stranger. I met him jogging along the beach one day. We happened to drum up a conversation ("You from Santa Monica too?"
"No, I came in from San Bernardino for the day."), and before I knew it, I was telling him my idea for a book on male sex fantasies. He said it sounded interesting, that he'd buy a copy. "How'd you like to be in it?" I asked. He smiled. I told him I wouldn't put his real name in it-which I still don't even know-and he had to be as honest as he could be. So he told me a fantasy that blew my mind. He dreamed of fucking women, older women, on the cold, smelly floors of public bathrooms. This from the all-American jogger? I ran to the car in the parking lot and scribbled it down.
Then I took the pad of paper and went up to men who didn't seem particularly involved with anything other than getting a good tan. One guy called me a pervert and told me to fuck off. Another laughed in my face. But a kid told me his best jack-off dream (he wanted to be gang-raped by surfers under a pier), and another man told me that his first sexual experience with his mother's best friend had remained his best fantasy. I asked them for their first names and a little of what they did, where they came from, were they married or not-just enough to give their words life, shall we say.
The second most encouraging factor was finding a publisher who agreed with me and encouraged me to find the most representative material, thus presenting an unbiased look at a subject that no one has tackled with great success.
Immediately after my first discussion with the publisher, I placed ads in several newspapers. I could be quite open and graphic in the open and graphic newspapers (which used to be called "underground"): I said I was writing a study of male sexual fantasies called Secret Sex, and I invited replies from everyone, straight, gay, and bisexual. I listed my post office box number and watched the thing fill ("J," are you listening?) . Then I placed even more personal ads in specialized newspapers. For example, in The New York Times of the gay world, The Advocate, I said I was doing a study of gay dreams and fantasies, and I invited replies by letter and phone (I listed the new private line I had installed for the duration of the gathering time). The letters came, and the calls never stopped until I had the phone pulled out. In the Berkeley Barb and a few "swinger" magazines I wrote ads appealing to bisexuals; in regular newspapers in the cities that would let me do it (some of the biggest papers in the biggest towns said no, while some of the once-a-week tabloids in unheard-of places said okay), I placed tame, serious ads asking for what I figured would be 90 percent heterosexual replies. (I was wrong; only about 70 percent of the replies were straight. The rest leaned in every direction.)
The other thing I did was go to the universities and colleges in my area and put up notices on the bulletin boards, inviting phone calls and letters. I did the same at supermarkets and wherever they have public-notice displays. The college and university replies were overwhelming, but they've been included here only to the same extent as the blue-collar workers and the farmers.
I ended up with many thousand letters, more than I'd care to count, nine complete days of taped phone conversations and interviews, three telegrams, three mailgrams, and two threats on my life. The glove compartment in my car was always brimming with my own version of shorthand-I was always catching guys off-guard, like driving up to the teller's window at the bank and spouting, 'I'd like to withdraw this and would you care to tell me your wildest sexual fantasy?"-and friends started coming around, not to tell me their fantasies, but to inform me they had someone who did, and would I call them? Sure. And I did. And every little bit helped. I got what I feel is a good cross-section of the men in America today, and that's all I set out to do. Let some French version of me do the same in Paris; International Male Fantasies can be someone else's book.
I must tell you why I really feel I was the person to compile this. Had a person with "credentials" gone out to interview, he'd have chased many of the donors of dreams away. I came to believe I was right in thinking a "regular guy" had to be the one to reach the average man; again and again I heard, "Man, it's so easy to talk to you." What they were saying was, it was easy to talk to someone so like themselves. I never put anyone down, never offered a comment. I offer few comments in the book-I leave that up to you, the reader. Who am I to say one thing is better than another? All fantasies are valid. Some doctors and critics of the social scene are bound to write about this "sick" book; I beg you not to read their interpretation. The point is, what they think does not count. This book is for you, and only your reaction is important. You don't even have to voice it. It can be as secret as your fantasies.
If there is a "sensuous man," a good part of his aura is his fantasy life. Remember he has them, whether they are romantic or violent, about women, boys, or sheep. They are natural; they are necessary. The truly sensuous man is free from guilt in his fantasy life. He's happy. And remember, he's one hell of a guy. One final word.
This book is candid and erotic; it isn't for everyone's taste; no one is forcing you to read it, and you shouldn't force anyone to whom it would not appeal to read it. It will find its audience. As for the tone of my writing, well, I can only write as I talk. I don't speak from a lofty point of view. If I feel the word "fuck" is better than the word "intercourse," I'll use it. To do differently would be altering the style of this book and the way it was conceived and executed. If I could say "fuck" to the men I interviewed and talked to, I sure can say it to you. With spicy words and the lack of medical terms, some professionals may disregard this book, but it wasn't written for them in the first place. It is my feeling-belief-that the average man, whether he be reading this in his bed in his co-op high-rise or in his sleeping blanket in a commune in the New Mexico mountains, will find identification with the voices in this book.
Tom Anicar
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PART ONE
HETEROSEXUAL FANTASIES
CHAPTER ONE
Inferiority
A strong reason for fantasy is the feeling of sexual inferiority. Men who feel they don't perform as well as they should or as well as their partner expects them to perform often turn to the erotic imagination that puts them into the costume of sexual superman. And why not? Our purpose here is not to question the reasons for sexual inferiority, whether real or imagined, but to discuss the fact that such feeling leads to active and helpful fantasies.
The biggest hang-up, I found, was penis size:
-I wish my cock could be just a few inches longer. Then I could really please my wife.
-I've never told anybody this, but I think my dick is too small. Sure, everyone tells us that six inches is average. Well, you find me a woman who wouldn't rather have seven ... or eight?
-If only I had been born with a cock to fit the size of my body!
-The secret sex I have is me balling chicks with a big fat dick. Mine is small. I feel embarrassed about it and have a rough time finding girls. Well, I can find the girls, but I can't bring myself to ask them home with me because I figure they're going to be disappointed.
-My best friend has a nine-inch prick. I lost three chicks to him so far. I have a regular six. All that stuff about it's not how big it is but how good you are is a crock of shit.
-I never really knew I had such a small penis until one of the secretaries at the office showed me a copy of one of those new women's magazines with the naked men in them. Since then I've practically been a hermit sexually. After women see ten-inch penises, how can they be satisfied with five?
-I'd sell my fucking soul to the devil for a bigger dick.
And so on. It was the same thing, with a hundred variations. These men seemed to carry their feeling of inferiority into their fantasy lives-all their secret dreams had to do with dominating a female. Again and again, "my big cock" was mentioned, and most fantasies centered around the penis. Making the woman worship and revere "my big cock" was the basic theme of all the fantasies; these men found, in their dreams, the answers to their prayers, the wish fulfillment they needed to keep a balance in their lives. I shudder to think what might happen to them if they were suddenly deprived of their secret sex lives. In most cases, it seemed, only the fantasy of seeing themselves with massive penises allowed them to cope with their terrible insecurity. Dreams of sexual superiority, in other words, kept them from going off the deep end.
Arnold
An interesting account that fits into the category of "Inferiority" comes from Arnold, a blue-collar worker in his mid-thirties. Though the expression of his main concern does not become overt until the last few sentences, we see that his fantasy has more to do with his basic feeling that he isn't as good in bed as the legendary black man than it has to do with his attraction to black women. He wants not so much to taste the forbidden fruits of another race as to prove that he is every bit as good a lovemaker as "those big black studs" he obviously feels are better than he is.
-Hey, that's a great subject, secret sex that people have in their minds. My secret is that I like black women. When I was a kid I peeked into a ladies' rest room and saw a colored woman naked. Her pussy was so different from the pictures I'd seen of white pussies. I liked the chocolate color and the darkness of the lips and the pinkness of the inside. She was masturbating while sitting on a toilet.
Since then I've masturbated while thinking of black women. Or I guess it's the other way around. Anyway, I often pretend my wife is black when we're having sex, and I like to think I'm licking at a black vagina. I think I'm kissing a black cunt, and I taste chocolate milk. Sometimes when I go to bed I fix myself a glass of chocolate-flavored milk, and if we have sex (my wife and me) I drink the milk, pretending it is the black juice from a colored pussy.
I see black women on the street and I get excited. My cock pounds in my shorts. Especially if they are very black, dressed in afro style, acting strong and haughty. I like the arrogance of black women. They must fuck on top. They dominate. I think the black race is really superior to the white. Black cunt power is what it's all about. I can't stand thinking about it any more, or I'll cream in my pants. I want a black woman riding my cock, slapping my ass, and pinching my nipples until they bleed. I want her to fuck me and tell me I'm as good as those big black studs with the giant pricks.
William
I didn't find out anything about William but the fact that his brother plays an important role in his fantasy:
-I never had a girl until I was twenty-four. I was going to be a priest but decided not to. My brother, Jim, started having girls when he was sixteen. He used to laugh at me because I was celibate. I bad masturbatory dreams, sure. But I had never gone all the way with a girl. When I came to live at home after the seminary, my brother was always screwing around with girls, under my nose. He would keep me out of my room for hours because he had a girl in there. He would tell me I could "watch" and maybe learn something. I don't know why he hated me so much. Why did he always have to put me down? I never see him now. He went off to the coast and lives like a bum. I have this dream, again and again, that he is tied up on a chair. I think I tied him there. His girl is screaming, and he yells at me. But nothing stops me. I take his girl and screw her right there in front of him. I make her suck my penis, and I whip her face with it after I cream. He wants to jump up and kill me. I just laugh in his face. I do everything imaginable to his girl and leave her crying. He is humiliated. I feel good about it. He humiliated me for years.
Vincent
-I've never been athletic. I've always had a skinny body. I have dreams that I'm suddenly taller. I have muscles and a big cock. Everyone is staring at me. I can have any girl I want. When I walk down the street, you can see the cock in my pants because it is so big. Everyone turns to look. People look at me wherever I go. They desire me. I'm very lonely, you see.
CHAPTER TWO
Superiority
Perhaps this should actually be put under the "Inferiority" heading, because these dreams may well come from a basic inferiority complex. But let's not psychoanalyze the person here; what matters is the fact that dreams of superiority exist, and in sexual terms that usually means superiority over women. I wonder if with today's liberation of women, men's dreams have become somewhat stronger in the sense of male domination? Is it a bigger challenge now to find a woman who begs you to use her as nothing more than a sex object?
A trend toward a "yes" answer to that question is summarized here by two men, Sandy, who is forty and works in a bakery, and John, a guy in his late twenties who didn't tell me what he did in his letter, but from it we can surmise that he likes to hunt and fish in the mountains somewhere near Seattle, where his letter came from. Both men's stories are of the ultimate macho variety, showing a sense of brotherhood with their buddies, and a put-down of women that seems to border on hatred.
Sandy
-I dream of being a cop. I pick up this hooker and drag her into the back room at the station. We order her to take off all her clothes in the middle of the floor. Then we all take a turn at her, standing there in our uniforms, pushing at her cunt with our nightsticks as she reaches up to feel our hard cocks in our uniform pants.
I open my zipper and let her take my cock out. She sucks on me for a long time in front of all the rookies. They are beating off. She sucks hard and she sucks soft. She takes just the head and then she deep-throats me. When my cock is all the way in her throat, she runs her hands over her throat and massages my cock that way. I get very turned on. She yanks my balls out my fly too and plays with them. My cock goes deeper in her throat. Her nose is pressed in my crotch. My pubic hair is right up her nostrils. She opens her mouth as wide as can be and tries to suck a little of my balls in her, but she can't, because my cock is too big. She finally pushes my balls up with her fingers and sucks my balls and cock at the same time. She has a big mouth. So another guy wants to get in on the action, and he sticks his nice hard dick in there. She is sucking two cocks and a set of balls. A rookie shoves his nightstick right up her pussy.
She takes her head off our cocks and moves her hands on them slowly. The other guy has a foreskin, and she slides it back and forth. She keeps licking the wet slit in the end of my organ. I shoot. I can't help it. It goes all over her head, in her hair, onto her lips. The rookies yell and root for me, and two of them jerk off into the air. She licks their semen off the cold floor.
Then I get another hard-on as she kneels and sucks off all the guys in the precinct house. Even the sergeant. I see her rounded ass and can't resist. I poke the barrel of my gun up there. I have unloaded it, of course. I shove the gun up her ass and twist it around. Then a rookie sticks his big dick up her cunt, and he tells me he can feel the gun on the end of his cock.
After she's swallowed fifteen loads of come, they drag her out into one of the squad cars and drive her around all night, to the cars on duty, and she sucks off the entire police force. Then they dump her where they found her, in the East Village, with all the other whores and junkies.
John
A variation on Sandy's fantasy arrived in a letter from John:
Dear Mr. Anicar, I don't know you, and I just wanted to tell you what it is I think about when I fantasize. I think about being up at my mountain cabin. I go up there fishing a lot, and I'm all alone. I think sexy things when I'm up there, because it is lonely, know what I mean? See, I get to thinking that a pretty girl comes knocking on the door. It is pretty cold. It can get cold up in the mountains. Anyway, she says she got lost from her boyfriend and she needs to spend the night so in the morning she can find him. I tell her this here's a private residence and I can't take in any boarders. They have to pay. She says she hasn't got no money but she will do whatever I want.
I'm not a guy who is forceful, you know what I mean. So I dream about being real strong and forceful and that I got a big prick, the biggest in the world. Bigger than that guy Johnny Wadd I read about. This girl comes in and she warms up by the fire and I tell her I gotta piss and she has to come to the shithouse with me. She says she is too cold, but I slap her on the butt and she knows I mean business. She comes with me, and I make her hold my dick in both her hands when I piss. She is nervous and shakes, and the piss hits the wall. I get mad and force her down to lick it off the wall. She is crying, but she likes it. She tells me she wishes her boyfriend is as strong as I am. He never does nothing like making her lick the piss off the cold wall.
Back in the cabin, I take her to the little bedroom. I toss the mattress off the bed, and I tie her to the springs. Feet and arms. Then I rip off her clothes, and her bare ass is pressing against the cold iron springs. She has a hot pussy. She is all excited. She begs for me to stick it into her. I take it out of my pants and shake it in front of her face. "Oh, it's so much bigger than my boyfriend's!" she says. I put it to her lips so she tastes the head, and then I pull it away. She bangs up and down on that noisy bed, wanting me to fuck her. I start jerking off, and she says her pussy is hot and she wants me in it. I tell her to shut the fuck up, and stick a rag in her mouth so she won't yell no more. Then I stick my cock in her. But I pull it right out. Teasing her. I get my rifle and stick the barrel up her cunt, and she shivers in terror and that's also a good feeling. She likes it. I pull out the rag. She is moving her hips, so the gun is fucking her like crazy. She begs for my big prick. I squirt my jism all over her face, and she cries out loud, calling me a bastard, and I slap her around but good. Later I untie her and let her crawl around on her hands and knees and get me some grub. Then I get down and shove my fourteen inches into her from behind, and she fucking passes out. I tie her to the bed again and slap her face with my cock. I get up in the night and take a leak right on her. She's freezing. I lay there covered up real tight. I fuck her on the bed in the morning. Her ass is cutting into the bed. Then a pal comes to the door, and I says, "Lookit what I got here!" And he takes out his pecker and slams it into her mouth. Then I see the mailman in his little jeep and calls him in, and he screws her too. And all day long all the guys I know who live up in the woods come in and fuck her or make her suck them off. Finally I leave her and go back to town on Sunday, leave her lying there in all that jism and piss. Let her boyfriend find her. She's not going to go out and find him. A whore like her should stay tied up. That is what I think about.
CHAPTER THREE
Remember When? (Recollective Fantasies)
Recollective fantasies are among the most common. "I remember when I was in the fifth grade and a girl asked me what f-u-c-k meant...." We tend to refer to these times as the good old days, probably because those old days provide material for an active and healthy fantasy life today. Often men seem to wish an experience that happened twelve years ago would repeat itself, or that a sexual encounter today would be as exciting as they remember a certain one being some years ago.
I think the thing to remember is that fantasies, like people in our lives, fall into certain slots. Why can't we love five people as opposed to one? If they're number one, each one of them, in their own slots, why should there be jealousy? Same with our fantasies: why can't we have many that are first-place? A first-place recollective fantasy, a first-place wishful-thinking fantasy, a first-place S&M fantasy, and a first-place starfucking fantasy? If a sexual experience in your teens was marvelous, go with that and use it as a terrific stimulus for orgasm; don't rush out and try to relive that scene, or find one similar but better. Find a different situation, and put that as number one in its slot. Enough of this sermon.
Keith
Keith is married and lives in a small Midwestern town. His wife is expecting their first baby soon. He says the best time of his sexual life was his teens, and he "grooves" (as he puts it) on memories of that exciting time.
-Something happened to me when I was a teenager, which, unfortunately for me, has never repeated itself. I was on a camping trip in the mountains and my friend and I had pitched our tent in with a group of other campers. At night, I saw a woman in the tent facing ours playing with herself in candlelight. I woke my friend, and we watched her for about an hour. She stuffed her fingers inside her pussy and even stuck the handle of a fishing rod up her vagina. Our cocks were hard, and we played with ourselves while we watched her performance. She lifted her ass and fingered it, and pulled her legs back up over her head! She was spread for all the world to see! Finally she brought herself to a climax (the first time I found out a woman could do that) and rolled over on her side, back and forth, like she had gone berserk. Our sleeping bags were covered with our sperm. And ever since then (many years ago) I have wished some woman would do that same performance for me. I love to think about it.
Nathan
Nathan is twenty-nine and has been living with the same two girls for the past three years. He teaches history in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
-I think that my high-school teacher invites me over to look at her new aquarium and to tutor me in some math problems. This is the same teacher I always think about when I masturbate. The one who taught me back in 1962. While I'm looking at the fish, my teacher excuses herself, saying she's going to take a bath, and will return in a few minutes. I listen to the water go into the tub, and I think about how she looks sitting in the tub with her tits bobbing in the water.
Then, after a few minutes, I hear a cry for help. "I've slipped in the tub. My back hurts. Please help me!" I race upstairs and into the bathroom, and she's yelling, "Don't look at me, I'm naked!"
I get very confused, because I can't help her if I can't see her. But I turn off the light so the room is dim, and I lift her out of the tub. She's dripping, and I fumble with the towel to wrap it around her. She's glad I came to help her, and I can feel her tits pressing against me, and I can feel my cock getting harder. I take her into the bedroom and put her on the bed and offer to call a doctor. But as I start to walk to the phone, she pulls me back and tells me she thinks it will be fine if I just massage her back a while and get the kink out. She rolls over on her stomach, and in the dim light I can see the curves of her body as I start to massage her shoulders. She purrs and moans a little, and then rolls over suddenly, so I find my hands on her tits. I start to pull away, but she begs me to keep touching them, and then she guides my hand down to her cunt, and I slide my finger in, and it's wet inside. My other hand is pressing her nipple, and she's squirming. She opens my zipper and pulls out my cock and works it vigorously. Just as I'm ready to come, she goes down on me and takes it all in her mouth. Before I realize what's happening, she tells me to hurry and leave the house. Then, the next morning at school, I'm not sure if she's ashamed and if I'm supposed to be ashamed too. But during the class, I look at her, and I can see her skirt pulled up under the desk and her underpants showing, and I know she and I share a secret from the other kids in the class.
Eric
This guy is in his forties and has been, as he puts it, "a free-lance truck driver" for most of his life. I met him in one of the unemployment lines in Hollywood.
-When I was a kid, my mom caught me masturbating, and being a religious woman, she pulled me out of the bathroom and gave me the spanking of my life. Now whenever I fuck someone, the only way I can come is to think about my mother's spanking. It always arouses me. Sometimes I think about spanking a girl, one who always seems to resemble my mother, and I find that that, too, makes me come.
Dennis
Dennis is a handsome man who looks both rich and famous, but is neither. But as he says, it's better to look it than not to. He says it helps when he applies for credit. He has an interesting past. He was born in Guatemala, where his father worked for the United States government. He was raised almost exclusively by his grandparents in Illinois, and then was carted off by his mother when his father died. He was seventeen at the time, and the changes he went through in that stormy year left him feeling as though he was drowning. The sudden death of his father, his being forced to leave his grandparents, who, in reality, were closer to him than his parents, and setting up a new life in San Francisco with an almost stranger who was still his mother gave him a feeling of insecurity and extreme vulnerability. His mom had money and spent much of it on parties, inviting the more successful of San Francisco's designers and decorators (for her hobby had been decorating, and she was now planning on opening a shop in the Bay Area), many of whom were homosexual.
Dennis' first sexual experience was homosexual. It didn't confuse him any more than he was already confused; he says now it must have been that natural desire young boys have to see what it's like to do it with another male-in Dennis' case, coming a few years later than average. Life with his grandparents had been religious and restricted. Life with mother was quite the opposite. She didn't like women who seemed to make a play for her good-looking teenager, so she kept him in the company of her male friends. It should not have come as a shock to her when she discovered him with one of her business associates on a Saturday afternoon. But she pretended shock and sent Dennis off to a military academy within the month-perhaps the most senseless place to send a boy who was having homosexual affairs. Only prison would have been worse.
Dennis had an affair with a boy at school, but as he says today, there was never any emotion in it for him. It was plain sex; he received the same pleasure as masturbation, but it was more fun and less lonely. The other boy "fell in love" with him, and Dennis didn't know how to handle it. He ran away and hitchhiked to Alabama, where he had an affair with the proverbial farmer's daughter. It changed his life.
He felt together all at once. He was free of his mother, free of his past, and emotion had suddenly filled his sex life and turned it to lovemaking. He lived with the girl and her father for almost a year, and then decided to move around the country. He traveled, worked odd jobs, had heterosexual affairs exclusively, for there was no more desire for other men, and finally visited his grandparents, a full four years after having been pulled out from under them.
He had turned twenty-one, and with that magic age came the trust fund his father had set up, but he spent it quickly. There had been enough for college, but he didn't want to go back to school. He decided to travel and read, and he's educated himself well. He's written poems that have been published by various magazines, and his songs have been sung by many folk singers. He lives in Alpine Village, Nevada, which is on Lake Tahoe, and works as a ski instructor during the winter. In the summer he writes, gets tan, and reads everything he missed while he was working. He has two girls he's been seeing for over a year each, but never together. He says the winters are particularly satisfying because all the girls coming up to ski are horny. In the summers he relies on his fantasies, which are nearly all recollective. He's twenty-nine years old.
Dennis, your secret sex life, or fantasy life-is it rewarding? I'm not sure what you mean by that. Rewarding in what way?
Does it satisfy you? Yes, it does. I can stay home and lie in bed and play with myself for hours and come maybe two or three times, and it's better than some of the whole nights I've spent with girls.
What are your fantasies like? Basically, they're all about Sherry.
She's the girl you met in Alabama? Yes, the first person I really fell in love with in my life. I've had a few dreams where I'm making it with some woman I don't know, but that doesn't do it for me. I like remembering things.
Do you add to them, color them in some way? A little, I guess. No, I don't really add to them. I see them in different ways. Like the first time we made love. It was on a grassy hill near the farmhouse, and it was the first time I had been with a girl, number one, and the first time I was going to do anything sexual outdoors. That freaked me out. Now when I recall it in my mind, I'm watching the scene from one of the trees. Another time I see it from my point of view, just as it happened. Another time I'll try to see it from Sherry's point of view. You can look at a flower in a hundred ways, and it will always still be a flower. But each way will be a little different from the other.
Tell me one of your fantasies; use any point of view that's comfortable. The obvious one is that first time. We walk up the hill together, talking about our backgrounds. There isn't much to Sherry's; she was born and raised right there. Mine fascinates her. She can't relate to it at all. I've been telling her about everything, all night long, Grandma and Grandpa, the guys in San Francisco, and you know what? She didn't feel sorry for me. She told me life is rough and whoever told me it was going to be easy was crazy. She had a who-do-you-think-you-are? attitude toward me which I loved. No one had treated me like that before. She liked me. Just me. And that made me feel like a man.
I was scared, you know? I'd been used to getting it on with guys for a while then, and the idea of making love to a woman frightened me. But only to a point. Sherry wasn't going to play teacher and show me how to do it. She let me be a man in my own way, not forcing me, or using her experience to make me feel humiliated. In fact, she made me feel wonderful.
She sits down in the lush green grass and takes my hand. With her strong accent, she tells me I was meant to be someone who lives near nature, not in "one of them there big cities." I run my hand through her hair and think how different it feels from the men I've done this tol Then, suddenly, all recollection of the men passed, and I wasn't comparing anymore. We were living for the moment....
I kiss her on the cheek, and she runs her hands through my hair. She falls back in the grass and pulls me to her. She looks so gentle and soft, her long blond hair lying in the green. I feel my cock pounding in my pants. I snuggle up next to her-hope you don't mind that word "snuggle"; my grandma used it all the time-and I rest my hand lightly on her breasts. It's the first time I know of a woman not wearing a bra. I want to kiss her, and I do, on the lips, sliding my tongue into her mouth. Then I feel her hand running along my back, pushing my shirt up, feeling my naked skin, and I shiver.
I sit up and unfasten the top of her dress. Her breasts fall out, and I kiss them. I've wanted to do this for so long! I would often have straight dreams when I was with Barry, or one of the others in San Francisco. The guy would be sucking my cock and I'd be thinking about a girl. Sherry whispers for me to take off my clothes and stand in the sun so she can really see me. I stand up and do it, a little self-consciously. I've never taken my clothes off outdoors before! The feeling is incredible. I can feel the wind between my legs, on my cock. I live in the mountains now.
Is that why? I think so. I love climbing up to My Rock-a secluded place I found near here-and stripping. Even in the winter, you get a great tan in the snow. I've taken a few girls up there and turned them on to sex outdoors, and it's been nice.
Did Sherry take her clothes off when you did? No, she just lay there watching me. She said my cock was beautiful and she liked my ass. I had heard that before, but it never meant anything to me. She made me feel-this sounds syrupy-beautiful.
I knelt down next to her, and she reached up and took my cock in her hands. She rubbed it, and it was all I could do not to come. She pressed it against her breasts, right between them, and I shuddered. Then she kissed my balls and started kissing all over my ass and thighs and finally took my cock in her mouth. I ran my fingers through her hair and played with her breasts, and they got very hard.
When I remember it, this is the part that always is so real: I move away, taking my cock from her lips. I lift her skirt and find she isn't wearing panties, either. I'm staring at the first live, the first real cunt I've ever seen, and it's the most beautiful sight in the world. I want to bury my head in it, I want to crawl inside it. I move into position. My knees are hurting from the soil, but the pain is nice. I could be bleeding and I wouldn't know it. I want to be inside her.
I move my cock head to touch her pussy. I have to think about the sun or the grass or something for a second, otherwise I'll come because I'm so exicted. She reaches down and guides my cock into her. I can't believe the feeling. It's like nothing I've ever done before, nothing I've ever felt. I'm inside her before I realize it, and my face is pressing against her breasts. I can't believe it; we're joined together and I love her and we are kissing and I move my ass just a bit, and all of a sudden I'm filling her with burning semen and she is crying softly....
What's an example of a different point of view? Of the same scene? Well, I would be a third person watching, you know what I mean? I'd see me kneeling there, watch her sucking on my balls. I would see my ass gleaming in the sun as I started to slide my cock into her. I would watch my feet kick into the air when I came, and I would see her turning her head from side to side.
Which is the more exciting point of view? Both. Depends what mood I'm in. I use whichever makes it more exciting. This one worked today because I have a hard-on!
You told it so well, I think I do too. Far-out. That's what it's supposed to do.
I agree. What about your homosexual experiences? They are recollective fantasies also-I'm mentioning that because I'm going to use this in the section of the book that talks about recollective fantasies-and certainly they must stimulate some response in you. They don't stimulate much of a sexual response. I'm being very honest about that I think being bisexual is the best thing in the world, because you have one hundred percent of the population to work with, not only fifty percent. A girl I know brought her boyfriend up to the house in January, and the three of us got it on. She wanted to see him doing it with another guy.
So you have had physical relations with other males since you met Sherry. Just that one time. It's been offered to me a lot, but I can't get excited about it.
What was it like, this recent threesome? Okay. The guy was nice, superintelligent, and I've known the chick for three years. I think I was excited and agreed to it because it really pleased her. The part of it, physically, that turned me on the most was when we fucked her at the same time. He put his cock up her ass and then she sat on mine and took it up her pussy. Now, that's a good recollective fantasy for the future.
Do you avoid homosexual contact, go out of your way to get away from it? I did. I was so turned off to guys wanting to get in my pants. Now I'm not like that. I think the problem is, I'm hopelessly straight. I don't really have any desire to make it with the guy who was here in January-I mean, on our own. If Heather-that's the girl-wants to have another threeway, I would agree. But I just can't get it up for a guy.
How long were you with Sherry? Not long enough.
You miss her? Not her, exactly. I miss what we had. We were in love, just really in love. I wasn't ready to settle into a lasting relationship at the time, and so I split. I would like to find that, that feeling, that connection between two people, with someone else. I'm looking. It'll happen.
Did she know about everything in your past? Yes, if you mean the gay contact and all. I know your next question will be: Did it turn her on?
Did it turn her on? Yes. I think it's still one of her recollective fantasies, wherever she may be.
What's the best thing about fantasy, recollective or otherwise? In fact, don't think about labels. Just think of fantasy. What's the best you can say for that term? It eases loneliness. It eases things like guilt and jealousy. It makes sex so much better. I can't imagine sex without some degree of fantasy.
When you feel horny and want to jack off and you don't have much time, what do you think about? Do you have a quickie of a fantasy for such occasions? For some reason, that happens a lot up the slopes. In between lessons, I beat off a lot.
Where? In the John in the clubhouse we use as a kind of classroom.
What kind of fantasy? My "quickie," as you call it, is just thinking of a girl sucking my cock. I guess that goes back to my gay period, because I was getting blow-jobs left and right, under my mom's nose. The first sex I had was a blow-job, and it was a good one, because Barry sure knew what he was doing.
Do you think of actual people doing it? Do you see someone you know down in front of you? Sometimes it's one of the girls I've currently got the hots for. Maybe one of the beginning skiers. Sometimes it's nobody special, just a girl who is sucking on my cock.
Specific places? Yeah, always. At the top of the slope. In my bed. Sometimes-this will sound insane....
Nothing sounds insane.
... well, sometimes I picture myself standing at one of the tables in Harrah's. While I'm playing and losing money left and right, a chick is sucking my cock down underneath. No one notices, because the only thing everyone is looking at is their goddamn silver dollars. I met a girl in a keno parlor one night, very late, and she jerked me off as we sat there freaking out the guys at the desk. I sometimes get off thinking about that-I come fast thinking about that one.
Have you talked about fantasies with friends? Is it something you discuss. Hmmm. It's more the "Hey, I'd like to get into her pants!" kind of thing than really telling each other the truth about our secret dreams. Once in a while it's happened, but never as probing and complete as we're doing. It isn't a thing you can talk about easily, especially to friends. I think it is easier to tell strangers. Like you, stranger.
Hell, I was just beginning to think I was a friend. You are.
Which means you'll never tell another fantasy, right? Right!
One more question-if you had to use one word to describe your fantasy life, what would it be? Dull. Dull? Yeah.
Why? Because I know my fantasies have to be boring next to most of the kinky, far-out things people are dreaming these days. Shit, not these days, they've always been dreaming them. Next to the letters guys write to the editors of Penthouse, for example, my fantasies are nursery rhymes. And they're not only fantasies, people are really into wild scenes-there's a guy I know who works on the roads up here. His thing is to have girls piss on him. I say, if that's his thing, great. But it isn't mine. So, next to things like that, my straight sucking and fucking has to look like nothing.
Listen, I'm becoming an expert. Take it from me-your fantasies aren't dull, only different. Got that? Okay, I got it-different.
Other than pleasing yourself, what can fantasies be used for? Seduction. I've gotten more girls into bed, or to go down on me, by telling them some of my fantasies. I usually use a story about Sherry-Jesus, I have enough of them-and change the name to the girl I'm trying to seduce. She thinks I'm making up this story as I go along, that she's the inspiration for it. It works like magic. It's a great way to get started-turns me on, and the girl too.
Fantasy can be called foreplay, then? Sure. Sometimes I like to foreplay all night. It's better than coming right away and having to kill the rest of the evening by playing Scrabble.
Wayne
Many recollective fantasies stem from childhood, as does the next one, from Wayne, a burly guy in his mid-fifties. He lives alone in a basement apartment with two dogs and a cat He's been married (his wife died five years ago) and has a married son and daughter.
-I'm a janitor in a big apartment building. There's lots of nice-looking broads in the building, and I always see them wiggling their fannies going in and out of the building. My apartment is at basement level, so when they walk by, I could reach out and grab their legs if I wanted to. Hell, I'd grab more than their legs! I remember learning about sex from the kids at school. One girl in our class took off her panties for us and let one of the guys shove his dick into her hairy crotch. She said her uncle used to do it to her all the time. We even got caught once by a teacher, and I remember feeling ashamed. It really caused a big ruckus in our neighborhood. Once I got my kid sister to take off her panties and let me stick my fingers in her cunt She liked it, and she played with my dick, too. We used to watch each other pee and shit, but when she got older, she wouldn't let me watch her anymore.
Sometimes I'd sneak into her room and lift up her nightgown, but if I tried to touch her cunt, she'd wake up and threaten to tell my parents. Once I got into the closet in my parents' room and watched them fucking through the keyhole, while I masturbated. I had to be quiet so they wouldn't hear my breathing, but with all their groaning, they'd have a hard time anyhow.
My mom was on top, jumping up and down over my dad, and when he yelled he was coming, so did I. All over the blankets rolled up on the closet floor. I sneaked out of the closet long after they fell asleep. Every time I would think about it for long afterwards, I'd touch my dick, and shoot out all over the room.
I've had sex with girls, but every time I do, I end up going home and jacking off. I seem to enjoy that better.
I like to think about some of the luscious broads in this building when I masturbate. I think about getting a one-way mirror and gluing it in each of the apartments where the nicest gals live. Then I'd crawl into the wall space and watch her get undressed, while I play with myself. In the summer, it would be nicer, 'cause she wouldn't wear anything. I'd watch her play with herself while she was sleeping, and then I would come with such a violent spurt, my dick would be sore for days.
I'd get used to their sexual patterns, and I would know exactly when they'd be fucking their guys.
I'm not a great lover, and I don't fuck that many gals. The ones I'd like to screw wouldn't go out with me, and the others don't turn me on. So my fantasies help me be with the broads I really want to fuck, and watching them in my daydreams makes me think it's me fucking them.
John Doe (unidentified but interesting)
-The clearest part in my memory about my home life as a kid was my grandfather always yelling at my dad, and my dad, in turn, hitting me. I hated living with my grandparents, and I made up mind never to grow old. I was raised as an only child, but I did have a brother. He got killed in a car accident when he was three and I was four, and I don't really remember much about him.
My father really didn't pay much attention to me, except when he wanted to hit me. I was always a bed-wetter, and I'd always be punished for it. My dad would never get so mad about it if my grandmother wasn't always telling him a boy my age shouldn't be peeing in bed, and she'd encourage him to hit me. They finally decided I couldn't have sheets on the bed anymore as long as I always ruined all the sheets.
I pretty much dream about my grandmother sleeping in her bed. I knock and tell her who it is, and she says come in. I walk in, and she's rubbing her eyes in bed. It is early morning. I am naked. When she finally opens her eyes, she sees I'm standing there holding my cock. "What are you doing, you filthy boy!" she yells. And that's when I let go a good stream of piss, right at her. Then I grab her and fuck her, the old bitch. My dad comes in and finally tells me he's proud of me for standing up to the old bag.
You know what it's like to have to sleep in a bed with no sheets or blankets?
CHAPTER FOUR
You Are What You Wear
Clothing-most often uniforms of some sort-have a special appeal to certain men, as emphasized by these fantasies. I found that a lot of fantasies had some mention of clothing, such as:
-I left my underwear on all through it....
... screw her right there, with my dick stuck outta my fly.
-What was so exciting about it was we did it with our clothes on, right there in the carl
-She just unzipped my pants and went down on me. The best thing about it was feeling her chin pressing against my nuts through the material of my pants. I secretly hoped there would be come stains on my suit when we finished.
And so on.
The reason why isn't so hard to figure out; we usually have sex in the nude. Not only in the nude, but in the dark, where, if you're wearing anything, you can't see it anyway. So it seems very exciting to many men if some article of clothing is left on, or if they have sex completely clothed. A woman I know from Spain once said, "I no believe in showing all the meat. What is there for imagination after that?" There's some truth in that statement. How often do you find the photos in such publications as Playboy and Penthouse in which women are partially dressed more stimulating than the ones in which they are completely nude? Some nude beaches in California have closed for a lack of swimmers-they got bored. Imagination is part of sexuality. When you leave nothing to the imagination, where goes fantasy?
The collection here, however, is another step beyond what I was just talking about. The guys talking here are into clothing as a special sexual trip, and the idea of uniforms and specific dress exciting them comes from the individual's own realm of experience. My attitude: whatever you need to fit your fantasy, wear it. Be it a fireman's uniform or the maid's panties. If you fantasize about another person, put her into the clothing that turns you on. After all, you're the boss here; you set the dress code.
Let me give you a wrap-up introduction to the men whose fantasies are listed here: Michael is the youngest, at nineteen, and Hank is the oldest, at fifty-three. Danny, Gerry, Michael, Gordon, Todd, and Mark are college students; businessmen are represented by Ben, Frank, Ted, Steve, Gene, William, and Robert. Richard is a theater costumer, while Kenneth, Rod, Len, Carey, and Hank all work in factories.
Hank
-I want a beautiful big-boobed chick to put on my old Navy uniform. I want to see those huge globes sticking out through the white material and that black pussy hair through the crotch. I can see my cock through the leg when I put it on, so I know for sure I could see the chick's pussy hair. I would like to open the fly and stick my rod right in that way, fucking her with my cock through the fly of my old pants. I could suck her giant hard titties through the material. I would come inside her and let that big hot pussy just dribble all the snatch juice and my jism down her legs, getting the pants all wet, right down to the bottom of the big bell-bottoms.
Danny
-Nurses get my dick going all the time. It first happened when I was in a hospital, when I was a teenager. Man, one hell of a night nurse came in one night and ordered me to turn over so she could take my temperature. And you know where. I told her I wasn't no little kid, I didn't have a rectal thermometer next to my bed, I had the kind you stick in your mouth. She warned me she'd put "something else" up my ass if I didn't turn. So I did and she pulled down my pajamas and started feeling around for the hole. I got so fucking hot, my cock dug against the bed and stuck down between my legs, under my swollen nuts.
She sucked on her finger for a minute and then stuck the goddamn thing right up my asshole! Honest to Christ! Right up there! It hurt like fucking hell, but I was harder than ever. She fingered around, and I felt a good sensation, which I know now was my prostate being massaged. Anyhow, I moaned and she told me to turn over. So I did, with her finger still up my ass, and she opened the top of her uniform and told me I could feel her titties if I wanted to. Fucking A, man, did I want to? The guys back at school would never believe it. They didn't, come to think of it.
Well, I grabbed her beautiful breast and pulled it out of her brassiere. The nipple was big and hard, looked just like the bottles my little baby sister sucked on. So I stared at it while she finger-fucked me. I felt like I was going to come all of a sudden, and I let out a sound, kinda frightened I guess, not knowing what to do, and like a jet, she was down on my pulsating cock, swallowing every shot of jism I spurted up.
Then she left, as though nothing had happened, and I was sent home the next day and never saw her again. I've tried to get into hospitals since, for checkups, but I'm healthy as a fucking ox. I hang out there, though. And in the coffee shops, even in parking lots. I ate a nurse in her car once. I just walked up to her and told her I would do anything she wanted as long as she was in her uniform. So she told me to eat her pussy, and I did it, right there in her car. My goal is to fuck a nurse while she's in uniform.
Ben
-You're going to laugh at me [No I'm not!], but there is a thing about uniforms which have some validity in sexual attraction. My own preference is a woman police officer or a meter maid. I see them riding motorcycles like men, and I can feel their warm and wet pussies pressing against that leather seat. I sometimes let the meter run out when I'm parked, and wait in hopes that I will strike up a conversation with a meter maid who will want to go home and help me put my fantasy into active terms.
Frank
-I developed a strong attraction toward Wacs when I was in the war. I think it was those uniforms. I've found myself always daydreaming about making love to a woman in uniform, even a waitress. A social worker, a carhop, a nurse, even a stewardess has been the object of my sexual fascination. My wife and I had a maid working for us for almost a year. I had to fire her, and my wife has never understood why. I couldn't stand seeing her in that uniform; it was frustrating. I wanted to fuck her all the time. She refused to wear her regular clothes. Every Fourth of July, I get a hard-on watching the girls in their band uniforms parading up the street
Gerry
-I can only have sex wearing clothes. My partner must be completely naked, but I have to be wearing clothing. I like seeing my cock sticking out of a pair of blue jeans. Or out of the fly in my boxer shorts. I like wearing hiking boots when I'm in bed with a girl, even a lumberjack shirt. I like to pretend we're in the woods lying on the ground. I like to feel a girl's nipples cutting through my clothing, and I like to hear her teeth scrape on my metal zipper when she blows me. I even like to be sucked off while wearing pants. The girl just sucks hard through the material, and when I come, she sucks even harder to get the come through the cotton shorts into her mouth.
Richard
-Christ, man, my old lady and me, we trip out on all kinds of costumes, right? Like we'll smoke some grass and get really wrecked, dig? Then she dresses up as a Southern belle, and I wear a Northern soldier outfit. We call each other Scott and Zelda. Or she'll put on a crown and a queen's dress and I'll get into a Columbus costume and she'll be my Isabella, ordering me not only to find the New Land, but to also give her pussy a good licking. We act out all kinds of crazy scenes with whatever costumes we bring home. (We both work for a big theater where the opera season lasts a long time and the dressing rooms are full of thousands of costumes.) It's a trip, man, to pretend you are Columbus and the day before you sail, the queen gives you head, to wish you good luck on the water without women! I sit in the bathtub and she wears rags like a slave woman and I order her to wash me all over and suck my cock. You know, like I'm the Southern gent and she's a slave. Or we'll play Spartacus. I'll be wearing nothing but a white sash around my middle, and she'll order me to wait on her, bring her wine and grass, to kiss her feet, as if she's the beautiful woman in the posh Roman house. She makes me beat off in front of her as she pours wine over my cock and smashes fruit against my balls. Real decadent, like it was in Rome. She has a far-out outfit, a Scarlett O'Hara dress. I spend hours ... hours, man, under it. Just me, the dark, and her pussy. Clothes are a fucking high. Honest. Better than drugs.
Ted
-Like in old 1920's dirty films, I have to wear my socks when I'm having sexual relations. I don't know why. I can't function with bare feet.
Kenneth
-The texture of silk turns me on. My wife runs a silk scarf over my cock and balls, and I nearly reach a violent orgasm. I often masturbate into a silk scarf or my wife's panties.
Michael
-I've got a satin fetish. When I was a kid I went wild when I slept in a bed with a blanket with a satin edging around it. It drove me crazy, nervous. I'd usually beat off to get myself to sleep. Now whenever I touch satin, I get an immediate erection.
Rod
-Jeans are sexual to me. I dig any girl in tight jeans, I don't care what she looks like. I like to yank them down just past her pussy, just enough so I can get my cock in, and fuck her like that. I have fifteen pairs of pants, all of them jeans. Every kind, Levi's and Lee's and Wrangler's and Cheap Jeans and Hang Tens. Each one is a little different and gives me a different thrill. I never wear underwear. I love feeling my cock rubbing against the soft cotton material. Girls tell me they like the way they can see the outline of my cock in my jeans. I don't take them off when I make it with a girl. I like to open the waistband and zipper and lift my balls outside of my jeans. I fuck like that, feeling the bottom of the zipper cutting under my balls. I like it when I get a good blow-job and she runs her hands over my ass and balls through my jeans. I bought a new car recently, one of those Gremlins with the Levi's interior. The seats are denim, and I like to make it with a girl in the car now. It's especially good if she sucks my cock and pulls my jeans down over my ass so I can feel the denim seat under me.
Steve
... but my greatest fantasy has to do with an article of clothing. You see, I long for a woman who will let me have intercourse with her while wearing pantyhose. I want to snip a little hole in them, in the crotch, and put my cock through that, expanding it just enough to hug my organ. I think the feeling of entering her and experiencing the sensation of the touch of her pantyhose at the same time would be exquisite, to say the least.
Gene
-I like women like the kind you see on the covers of those bondage books in the dirty-book stores. The kind with the garter belts and stockings on and high-heeled shoes, and even a black bra that has the nipples cut out
Len
-My girlfriend has a pair of panties that turn me on something fierce! They have the crotch cut out! They're the most fuckable piece of clothing ever invented.
Gordon
-I have a pair of old tattered blue jeans that have a convenient rip at the thigh. When I get the slightest bit excited, the head of my cock shows through there. And when I get turned on, it slides right out. I've made a lot of lady friends by wearing these pants to the supermarket If women can show off what they've got with see-through blouses and short skirts, why can't men give a preview of what's down between their legs?
William
-Clothes! Let's hear it for clothes. Nothing's better than coming in the door wearing a suit, pulling down the zipper, and pulling out your cock, only to have your woman lift her long skirt and yank down her panties. Why go through all that trouble of removing your clothing?
Carey
-I like a woman to keep her bra on. I never go home with a chick who's not wearing one. I like to chew on them.
Todd
-I have a pair of swimming trunks, tight ones, that have a hole cut out in the front for my dick. The girls I bring home think I'm a little off my nut at first, but they soon dig it when they see how big my dick gets and feel how trippy it is to have a guy balling ya with his swimming trunks on.
Mark
-I wear a Balls-Upporter, which holds my balls up but leaves my cock exposed. Good way to fuck. Your balls don't get tired.
Robert
-Being a man quite well known in the business world, and in the social swirl also, I must be cautious. But I do have one particular interest-dressing differently from what I am. I come home and get into hippie-like garments, a T-shirt and fringed jacket, torn denims, sandals, a headband. Sometimes I even put on a wig with shoulder-length hair. It's easy to get young girls this way, girls who are attracted to hippie-type men.
CHAPTER FIVE
Wishful Thinking
This is an almost-category in which IVe placed some of the fantasies that I question as reality. Then they're not fantasy, are they, if they're acted out? Not necessarily, as some of the greatest fantasies are recollective dreams about a sex act performed years ago. What I'm talking about here is the story that, when told, sounds perfectly true. "Last week, Betty and I fucked on top of the John Hancock Building." Well, we know they didn't. It is a fantasy, but told as honestly and directly as a description of driving to work the day before.
The wishful-thinking fantasy is no better or worse than any other kind. It can be as rewarding and stimulating an experience as dreaming you're a sultan in the Desert of Horny Ladies. In other words, wishful thinking can cause a powerful orgasm and maybe give you a good night's sleep.
Stephen
Stephen said he was thirty-seven and was calling from Chevy Chase, Maryland. He said he liked cars and women (in that order) and did a lot of heavy breathing.
-I have a big, thick dick. Bigger than most guys', I'll bet. My wife divorced me, so now I don't get sex so easy. You know what I mean. I wish I had an old lady to put out for me. Not so much to love her and all that kind of thing. I mean to know she's waiting at home with her pussy spread for me. But there's no old lady, so I gotta do other things to give my big dong a workout.
I get turned on when I'm driving. I drive a delivery truck, but when I'm on the job, I don't fuck around. I drive. But when I'm in my own car, a small sports car, I get feeling real sexy. One time, when I was first married, my wife went down on me when we were driving in the desert. It was sensational. I made her do it for a hell of a long time because it really passed the time. Well, I wasn't paying much attention to the road, and this big bus full of kids passed us. Some Christian camp bus, I think it was. I looked up, and there were about fifty kids looking down at us, yelling all sorts of things. I think they were pretty damn shocked. But it really turned me on. I gushed like crazy as soon as I saw them all watching and pointing.
So that's what I do now. I get in the car and just drive around town. With my pants down. I slip them under my ass and like the feeling of the leather seat against my hairy balls. I get a hard-on as soon as I do that, and it just stands up there against the steering wheel for hours. I drive up to buses mainly, and let the old ladies riding in the afternoon get a good look at my dong. And I go real slow at corners where schoolgirls are standing on the curb, letting them look down into the car to see it. Sometimes I drive up next to a truck at a stoplight, and the guy sitting in the cab has a fucking freak-out. But I don't get off on guys. That's just for fun.
I feel this tingling in my nuts when I know a girl on a bus is feasting her eyes on my big tool. Sometimes I play with it with my hand so she really gets hot. I like it too when I pull up next to a big car, like a Caddy or a fucking Rolls, and some rich bitch looks over at me and I look down at my lap, and then she does the same and sees my hard prick ... wow! I can just picture her skirt getting all nice and juicy. Sometimes if I'm really turned on, I come when a girl's watching. One time I pulled up next to a busload of girl scouts in a park. The driver must not have been on the bus yet, because no one seemed to inquire about me. I just sat there playing with myself. I knew the girls were watching, and I was ready to split as soon as I saw someone coming around the bus. But nobody did. So I creamed, all over the steering wheel and dash, with those beautiful little small-titted girl scouts watching. I'll bet they never forget it.
Man, I got hard just talking about it to you. I think I'm gonna go for a drive now, gotta get my rocks off. I like it at night too. I pull up to a curb where I see a good-looking chick walking, and I either turn on the lights on the inside of my car, or I hold a little flashlight by my cock. Most of the time the chick will stand and watch. Sometimes they run. But they are fun too. I get my jollies from just being there, in the car, with my pants around my ankles. One thing, though, I always keep the doors locked and the windows rolled up. Never know who you're gonna meet on the street. Lots of nuts running around these days.
Freddie
This man sells motorcycles in the San Fernando Valley.
-I go to a massage parlor. The girls say I'm so good-looking they give it to me for free. Four of them take me to a small room, where we all take our clothes off. They pour a bottle of mineral oil on my body. Eight hands start stroking me, and my prick gets hard as a rock. Then I reach out and feel their tits. One set's real soft and hanging real low, and the other set's smallish with prickly nipples. I pinch them. The girls all love my cock so much they want to be fucked. I fuck two of them in the pussy and the rest in the ass. While I'm fucking one, the other three are playing with my nuts. I come all four times. When I'm done, they lay me back on the table and give me a real massage. Then one of them sucks me off as the other three do wonderful things like licking my nuts, putting a pussy in my mouth, rubbing tits against my chest, and so forth.
Lewis
-I am an amateur photographer. My favorite subject is my wife. She is a pretty woman, but her best attraction is her cunt. I have never seen such a luscious pussy in Playboy or Penthouse. The mound is high and hard. The hair is soft and thick. The lips are juicy and always wet, and she loves to pull them apart to show her clitoris. I have endless hours of movie film of her masturbating. I run one when we make love, so I can watch the cunt I'm fucking on the wall next to the bed. I have scrapbooks full of her cunt, hundreds of pictures of her beautiful pussy. I want the world to see them and share in the beauty of her cunt, but I'm very possessive and I would be jealous if anyone ever got hold of them. She would be very mad. She knows they are just for me. Lately we've been taking candid photos in un-likely locations. We go to a phone booth on a busy street and she poses; Then, just when I'm ready to shoot, she lifts her skirt to show her pussy. Most people don't notice ft, and the ones who do are too astonished to say anything. I have a picture of her standing in front of the State Capitol Building with her cunt spread wide and her fingers holding the lips open.
Last month she took some pictures of my cock. They turned out pretty good for someone who never worked a camera before. I think we are going to take candid photos in strange places with my cock hanging out, too. She says they excite her. I think photographs are the best source of sexual stimulation.
Claude
Claude told me he's thirty-three and an insatiable masturbator.
-You know the tubs of margarine, the soft kind? Well, open a dirty book to your favorite page and take a good look at that steaming pussy you want to fuck and then ram your dick into the soft margarine. You'll think you've just slid into that beauty in the magazine. I swear you'll come in the tub.
Bob
-My wife and I will go to a good restaurant, but we make sure it is a place with tablecloths that hang down pretty low on all sides of the table. Why? Because in the middle of dinner, she slides down to the floor and I unzip my pants and out comes my cock and she sucks me off while I sit there and eat, acting as though nothing is happening. No one has ever noticed, and I don't think anyone will ever catch us. I love being sucked off when I eat, and she likes doing something so base when she's all dressed up for the evening. People just think she's in the ladies' room, I guess. No one's ever asked. That had been my big fantasy, for years. I longed to have a woman give me a blow-job under the table while I ate dinner. When I married and told my wife about it, she seemed amused. Then, once, when we were in a posh restaurant (where we have since done this several times), she gave me a hand-job.
That started it. Even though now my fantasy is being acted out, I think it is still my biggest thrill and fantasy. Just talking about it gets me hard.
Rick
This was one of the more astonishing replies. Rick said he was from Mars but now lives in Tempe, Arizona. He said his age is "irrelevant" (I'd place him in his late twenties) and he works as an "adviser"-to what or whom is our guess.
-Fantasies? Maybe lotsa guys have them, but I don't. I am big where it counts, down there where it counts. And I have all the chicks I can use. Fuck, they're waiting in line for a taste of my baby. I just fuck 'em and let 'em suck on me, sometimes two or three at a time. I'm the stud on this block, and I can have any goddamn woman I want. All I gotta do is snap my fingers. So who the fuck needs fantasies when you got the real thing? All those tits and dripping cunts just waiting for me to come home from the plant and sock my big baby into them. I wish other guys could have equipment like mine. They wouldn't need goddamn fantasies either. But you gotta get born with a big dick.
Roy
Roy and his wife own and manage a motel in Las Vegas. He is forty-six.
-I think about fucking my wife and really putting some excitement into it. We're having breakfast in bed in a cute little beach house. The brightness of the sun is shining through the drapes. Carrie's breasts are thrusting upward as she lies on her back, and she has one leg bent at the knee. I can see the wispy hair on her cunt, and I can feel my prick getting hard. I go into the kitchen and heat up the coffee. When I carry it back into the bedroom, Carrie is smoking a cigarette.
I sit beside her while we have breakfast, and suddenly she's sucking me off. She refuses to quit until I come twice. Then she tells me to get down between her legs and eat her for a while. I do just that, while she lies back and smokes a cigarette. Her clit is like a little prick, about a half-inch in length. When my tongue touches it, she comes, just like that. Then she pulls my face up to hers and starts kissing me, sliding her tongue in my mouth. She's saying things the whole time, about how she wants more fucking, how she loves to suck my cock, and things like that. Then she pushes me a little away from her, and she laughs.
She tells me she has a big surprise for me. "I'm going to fuck you for a change," she says.
I don't know what she means by that, and then she jumps off the bed and runs to the dresser, and when she turns back to face me, she's holding two great big cocks with a set of balls hanging from it. It's a crazy-looking thing, one cock in her hand, another jutting from the other end. It's made like a big V, the color of flesh. She puts one of the cocks into her cunt, and puts the straps in place. I get on my hands and knees, and I can feel her rubbing lotion on my asshole. She climbs on me and pushes the dildo into me and begins screwing.
It turns out to be the best time I've ever experienced. Carrie is panting and squealing wildly the whole time she's doing it. When we're through, I fall back against the sheets, and then she moves the dildo slowly out of my anal opening. I'm reluctant to lose the nice warm feeling of the dildo in my ass.
CHAPTER SIX
Pain and Pleasure
Sadomasochistic dreams usually divide themselves right down the middle-either sadistic, in which the fantasist sees himself in the position of domination, or masochistic, in which the fantasist pictures himself being humiliated. Either the person is inflicting pain or he is having it inflicted on himself-but either way, he is experiencing pleasure. That's what it's all about, in the first place.
In the case of masochistic dreams, as you will see, it isn't so much the amount of pain the person is feeling, nor the kinds of whips and chains and debasing toys being used; what matters more is the psychological aspect. The deeper you can sink, the better. The more humiliated you can feel, the greater the excitement. The toys and dirty words and acts you are forced to commit are merely physical stimuli, working toward the ultimate emotional response. Masochistic pleasure in dreams is, as it is in real life, highly psychological-and for those who are into it, the sexual high can be a great one.
The same with the other side of the coin (or shall we say belt?); sadism in dreams shows the fantasist's desire to humiliate others, to dominate, to reign supreme. Terrific. If that's the feeling you want to have, if that's what is exciting to your experience, why not have dreams that are filled with the most outlandish thoughts of inflicting pain on others for sexual pleasure (theirs as well as yours)? Why not dream of making people serve you, making women your slaves? If seeing yourself as ruling the world with a whip in one hand and your hard cock in the other excites you, what's wrong with that? I can see only good in dreaming those dreams. As with a pair of pants: if they fit, wear them. And wear them well, wear them everywhere, wear them until they fall apart, and then replace them with an even better pair. When your wild secret thought of making your secretary wear a dildo strapped to her while typing letters for you (as you will read shortly) no longer fills you with excitement, replace it with a new fantasy. You can be a sadist with many variations, you know.
Does it matter which you see yourself as, S or M? No, not at all. Who should really care but you? If being the master turns you on, be the master. If you get an erection thinking of someone making you crawl naked in front of her, by all means be the slave. Or any notch on the ladder in between either extreme. In all S&M fantasies, someone is being debased-it matters not so much if you're on the bottom or the top. What matters is that you stay on "top" in only one sense-that the fantasy is right for you and you don't feel at all guilty about having dreamed it.
So, dream away. Here are some sadomasochistic fantasies to start you off (or to add to your already large collection).
Louis
Louis is an unmarried businessman from Nevada. Although what he tells seems as though it actually happened, he admitted to me that much of it was fantasy. It was the story of what he wished had happened in the past few weeks rather than what really had come to pass. His fantasy is direct strong, and seems to please him. What is interesting is, his fantasy doesn't seem to spring from a feeling of inferiority or insufficiency, as most "experts" in the sex field would have you believe. Louis is successful in business, has many friends, plays tennis and swims regularly, vacations in Europe every two years, and leads a seemingly happy bachelor's life. He isn't meek or soft; on the other hand, he isn't particularly forceful or commanding. He's what you would call a "nice guy," and you wouldn't be ashamed to call him your friend. Read this normal American guy's fantasy with that in mind-that image of him-and see if he seems any less normal when you're done. Perhaps you'll feel about Louis the way I felt when he'd told me his story-that he has a good and healthy imagination and that his fantasy life, secret as it may be, is one of his best qualities.
-Women like to be dominated. No matter what anyone says. No matter what libbers profess: They like a man to rule them-and that means sexually, too. I treated my secretary like a dog and won her respect quite quickly. Then I invited her to my apartment one evening, and I was very gentle with her. She seemed uncomfortable. I was testing her, of course. I made an advance, and she seemed eager. We fucked, almost gently. It wasn't pleasing to either of us. Later, when we were standing on her doorstep, she fished through her purse for her key. She couldn't find it. I told her I had taken it when she was in the shower after we'd made love. She asked for it I told her we were going to play a little game. She would have to find it.
She seemed upset, but excited at the same time. Out there in the dark, in her backyard, I gave her a clue-the key was "right near, in the white." I told her it was a "hard" clue. She asked me not to play games, and told me it was unfair to keep her locked out of her own house. But she got the clue all right: I had slipped the key into my shorts when I put them on. In my white undershorts, near my hard cock. She felt down there and found it But I wouldn't let her just reach in and get it. I told her she was the dog and the key was the bone. She would have to fetch it. I opened the top of my pants and unzipped. Then I ordered her onto her knees there in the grass and forced her to get the key out with her teeth. She had to nuzzle her head into my crotch and get the elastic band of my shorts with her teeth. She did it, pulling like crazy with her neck, and finally yanked my shorts down far enough so the key fell out and hit the ground. She giggled and reached out, but I grabbed her hands and held them behind her back and forced her to pick up the key with her teeth. She didn't scream because she was afraid of the neighbors, but she threatened to. I had the feeling she was loving it.
I made her suck my cock after I took the key from her.
She went down on me there in the yard on her knees and sucked until I came. I yanked at her hair, hard, just to see her reaction. She sucked all the harder. That was all I needed to know. After I came and she drank me, I tossed the key into the vegetable garden. Told her to "have fun finding it"
The next day she told me she couldn't find it in the dark and had finally crawled in a window, ripping her skirt. I just smirked. Then I ordered her into the office and told her to remove her panties. She was flabbergasted. I told her to take them off or she was fired. So she obeyed, thinking we were going to fuck right there. But all I did was take her panties over to the window and toss them out! She covered her mouth, knowing she would have to go the rest of the day in her short skirt with no underwear covering her pussy. I knew I had her.
We have gotten into real S&M in recent weeks. It had always been a secret dream of mine, a secret fantasy. But I started to act it out with Joy-and she is the perfect woman slave. She seems to live for my attention, whether in the form of kisses or whippings (sometimes both). I bought a strap-like contraption that fits around her waist and down under the crotch, like a chastity belt. This thing has a little hook where her pussy rests, and one at the opening of her asshole. To the hooks you can attach any size dildo you want. I strap it on her in the morning, sometimes forcing her to work the entire day with a hard rubber cock up her ass. Or a wooden cunt plug up her pussy. She sits at the desk in the outer office, greeting clients with a smile. Under it she is in torturous pain. And she loves it.
When I strap it on her, I get an erection that lasts all day. I take the thing out of her at five-thirty when the office closes, and I usually lick it and kiss it in front of her. Then I slap her ass until it welts, as a reward for doing good, and then I'll lay her on the floor of the inner office.
I've whipped her, made her wipe my ass after taking a shit, forced her to chew on my dirty underwear, even "gave her" to my best friend for a night of lovemaking, which I "directed." I made her service him like he'd never been serviced before. I've just ordered a contraption that I can put on the back of the door in the big closet in my bedroom. She can be strapped to it, upside down if wanted, and I can have a beautiful shot at her wide-open pussy that way. I'm going to whip it, beat it with my cock, cover it with whipped cream and eat it, and then shave all the hair off. I'll dominate her like she's never been dominated before. That's what being a man is all about.
Fitzgerald
The opposite of Louis is Fitzgerald (I made that up; he wouldn't even give me his first name). Fitz is a masochist, the way Louis is a sadist. His fantasy is no better or worse, richer or poorer-merely different. I don't know much about him other than he's forty-five years old, lives in Manhattan, is divorced, and works in the garment district. After reading his fantasy again, I hope he never finds his master woman. She's so rich in fantasy terms-wouldn't she lose something in the translation to human being? Very often-nearly always?-fantasies should remain just that. It's more exciting that way.
-Domination is my sexual thrill. I dream of a hard woman turning me into her slave, her total body slave, made to perform all kinds of services, to be debased and abused. I want her to teach me to lick her pussy after she pees. I want to drink her piss right from her cunt or even from a goblet I want to lick her asshole and taste her shit. I want her to bind my hands and feet and roll me around the floor, kicking me in the balls, spreading my ass with her powerful hands and shoving a finger up me. Maybe even her fist. I've read about gay boys who have a club called the Fist Fuckers of America. I would like to have a strong woman stick her fist up my asshole. The pain would be incredible. I know. I put my finger up there and I yell.
I want a woman to dress me up in a garter belt and heels and a dog collar and make me run around the apartment like that. I want her to tie me up like a dog and throw me scraps of meat each day and force me to lick her pussy and asshole just like a dog, her doggie. I want her to smother me with her breasts and maybe even let me suck them like a baby. She can dress me in diapers and give me a rattle to play with. Just to suck her beautiful big hot ripe tits. I want to be totally subservient to a woman and her desires. I want to be whipped to bleeding if I do not please her. I will take beatings gladly. I will let her do anything she likes with my puny slave prick. I will let her shave my body hair. I will wear a dog tag that says I belong to her.
If I get hard when not directed by my master woman, I will gladly take any punishment she commands because of my inferiority and lack of control. I want a strong woman with masterful breasts and a fleshy, hairy cunt and strong buttocks and an arm that will wield a whip in the way I live for.
Raul
Raul called me, and I must admit I was shaken by what he said. He sounded nervous, upset, and I believed he really wanted help and didn't know how to go about getting it There is a difference between a wonderfully sadistic fantasy being a sexual stimulus and its being something very real inside your makeup that you fear. Raul indicates that his need to inflict pain is not so much stimulating as it is frightening to him. He tells us where it comes from (his feeling that his genitals are of inferior size). He knows himself quite well, actually, which is the first step toward receiving help for a problem. But will he ever be able to call a doctor or someone he trusts and repeat what he told me and not hang up after the last word? I hope so. Perhaps this book will help him and others like him. Fantasies can be wonderful, exciting, fantastic things. But when you fear what you daydream, it is time to find a way to combat that fear, time to find help. Is there anything worse than having a fantasy that terrifies you? Fantasies, no matter how unusual and bizarre they are, are dreams, not nightmares.
-I don't speak too good English yet. I want to tell you in response to listing on bulletin board, I very much like to beat women. I fear this someday is going to make me trouble with the police. I cannot have a sexual relation without force. I do not rape. But I must hurt. I cannot reach orgasm without cries of pain from woman. I cannot playact this. It must be real. My coming is best when I hurt women physically. I do not know why this is. Do other men have problems of this nature? Sometime women laugh at way I speak, and sometime women laugh at the smallness of my testicles. I get violent and strike hard. I now feel frightened. I do not know how to ask help.
Milton
Milton is twenty-five, majoring in social studies at a large university, is president of the student council, and plans to run for Congress one day.
-I have a beautiful blond in bed with me and I'm kissing her all over and fingering her warm cunt and tickling her hot asshole. She is on her stomach, and I'm teasing her pussy lips with my cock through her open legs. Then I pull out handcuffs and strap her hands to the bedposts, and the same with her legs. Her feet, I mean. I take a tweezers and begin to pluck all the hairs from her pussy, one by one. Her screams only make me do it harder. I finally rub alcohol over her raw pussy lips and let her moan in pain.
Then I grease her asshole up real nice and good with Vaseline or hand cream. I slide my fingers in and out to loosen her up, and then I give her a good fucking with my hard cock. But I don't come. I take a rope and begin to insert it into her ass. I shove as much of it into her as possible, coiling it up inside her anus. I saw a movie where this was done once. The guy put the rope up the girl's asshole and then tied it to a doorknob and ordered her to run across the room. As she did, screaming in wild ecstasy, the rope pulled out of her and the guy came watching her.
But I don't tie it to any door. I move to her head and sit on the bed in front of her face. I order her lips down on my cock shaft, and as she blows me, I pull on the rope, slowly and with little tugs, pulling it out of her asshole. Each time I tug, I can feel her pain as she winces and eats my cock harder and harder. Finally, when I'm ready to come, I grasp the rope in both hands and pull it out of her as fast as I can.
Jack (no background given)
-I always picture a young, aristocratic woman standing above me with a whip in her hand. Sometimes I'm naked and sometimes I'm dressed in women's undergarments, which she ordered me to wear. She will beat and flog me when I open my mouth to speak without first asking permission. She'll growl and then kick at my balls and send me howling across the floor. Or she'll make me climb a long flight of wood steps, one by one, on my hands and knees, my cock and balls just hanging there for her to see and whip, and as I climb, she berates me and calls me filthy names and makes me worship her and promise I'll do anything she says. I must call her "master," or she lashes at my balls and I scream in pain as I crawl up the stairs. I know if I make it to the top, I will get to fuck her, but it is a long, hard climb.
Sometimes she takes me for a walk around the neighborhood, on a dog's leash. I'm either naked or wearing panties, and all the neighbors laugh and the kids on the block throw stones and she screams at them, and then if I behave she rewards me with a lick of her snatch.
Some days I'll take Scotch tape and tie it around the tip of my cock, just under the head, and then tape my dick up against my abdomen and go to work that way. I can feel the pain all day, and if I start to get hard, the pain nearly knocks me out. I pretend that my "master" is home knowing I'm in pain, and that makes it exciting for me. I can't piss, because my cock is up in that position, so by the time I get home, I'm ready to explode. And when I take the tape off, I'm usually beating off from excitement before I can even finish pissing. I pretend my beautiful dominant "master" is watching my every move. Sometimes I wake up in the night and press my hard cock against the cold windowpane so it will hurt, pretending that she came into the room in her black-leather outfit and ordered me to do it. She's with me always, in my mind, and has complete dominance over my actions. I can't live without that kind of stability in my life-real or not-and it is the only way I can function. I hate to think of what I would be without an active fantasy life.
Johnny
-I get off on watching people fuck, through windows, on the movie screen, in magazines. I'm a voyeur. But I add a thought in my mind to everything I'm seeing-that the people are tied up and I'm their master. I saw a young couple fucking in their bedroom once, from my apartment window, and I could actually, in my mind, picture the ropes around their naked bodies, and they were screaming to be let free, and I said, "No, you have to fuck for me first! I have to see the come run out of her pussy before I set you free!" And man, did that stud bang the hell out of her! He rammed her so hard I thought I was going to come! And it was because I was directing their lovemaking, I was the one in control. I often see myself spreading a chick's legs open wide so a fellow can eat her snatch, but only as a reward after he's fucked her in the ass because of my instructions, or let himself be stuffed by a dildo in her hands. I get my kicks being the person who arranges sex sessions, and everyone involved is performing for me, and they get rewarded for it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Wet Dreams
I didn't mean it literally when I asked, "What causes you to have a wet dream?" It was just my way of asking, "What's your best sexual fantasy?" Some of the replies I got, as you will read, were to the point on wet dreaming. One man, George, said he'd never had one in his life, while another, Philip, was adamant that that is all he has.
In any case, here are collected fantasies-some dealing directly with nocturnal emission, others telling us merely what turns them on. You'll find some exciting, some not so. But you'll have to admit that all of them are interesting.
The best thing about many of them, I feel, is that they seem guilt-free. I would say that 80 percent of the men contributing to this book told me their fantasies with some degree of guilt attached-with anxiety, some embarrassment, even disgust for themselves and/or what they were thinking. Telling me their fantasies relieved some of the anxiety; they breathed easier.
Most of the following men were breathing easy when I talked to them initially.
Brian
His fantasy is so clear, he has it down pat-exactly who is in what stall in the bathroom, exactly what they are doing. He's in his thirties, was recently married (a fact that didn't alter his fantasies one bit, he says), and works for the telephone company.
-My greatest fantasy comes from my childhood. I had to climb up on top of a ladies' room on the beach once. I think I was about twelve or thirteen. A group of us kids had been playing volleyball near the rest rooms, and the ball had landed on the roof, which was flat. So I was elected to climb up there, because I had the longest legs. (And I was the jerk who hit the ball in the wrong direction.)
When I got up there, I saw down into the bathroom through an air vent. I only had a second to glance in, but I saw a woman changing clothes, standing completely naked, and another sitting on the toilet, wiping her pussy with a wad of white toilet paper. I felt my cock getting stiff in my trunks.
I crawled up there another day when there were few people on the beach and saw many women go to the bathroom before the lifeguard ordered me down. Since then I've been attracted to ladies' rooms.
I dream of being able to sneak into one when the women are all in the stalls. Under the first one I see a fat lady taking a piss. (The sight of a woman peeing gets me very excited.) In the second, a woman is masturbating with her fingers. She has her head thrown back, so she doesn't see me. In the third stall, a young girl of about thirteen is standing on the toilet seat, squatting, trying that delicate position for the hell of it, letting the urine dribble from her smooth pussy mound. And in the fourth, two dykes are making love, licking each other's breasts and fingering each other's cunts. I stand up and yell, "FIRE!" and they all open the stall doors, and when I see them all there in front of me, naked, I hold my hard cock out in front of me and let them watch the head burst open as the hot powerful spurts of jism shoot across the room.
Stan
-Whenever Ym fucking my wife, I dream of fucking somebody else's wife. It's been the key to a very happy marriage. As long as I don't open my eyes, everything's fine.
Mack
-I have no fantasies. If you were married to my wife, you Wouldn't have any either. She is a fantasy.
Joe
Joe and Edward are both married and work for automobile manufacturers in Detroit. They've known each other all their lives, and yet had to tell me their fantasies in private.
-I saw that show in Vegas, the Lido, that thing from Paris. Tits and ass, man, tits and ass for miles. Ever since then, my biggest fantasy is having every one of those babes sitting on my face.
Edward
-Fat women. I am a "chubby chaser." I bought one of those calendars with the drawings of women with rolls of fat covering their bodies. I jerked off looking at it, even though it is supposed to be something funny and for laughs. I had never had the nerve to go to bed with a real fat woman. I don't know why. I think maybe I thought she would roll over and crush me in the night. Or I would be ashamed if my friends knew. Now I don't care. I like rolling over mounds of tits, giant nipples that are down by her cunt. I like lifting a big belly to find the dark snatch hair under it. I like an ass you can jiggle and slap and stick your face into. Liking fat women is a good thing, because most guys don't want to fuck them. So when you approach them, you have a good chance of getting them into bed. One of them broke my bed, come to think of it. She was just too big. I jerk off nearly every day, and the best times are when I am thinking about chubby gals.
Craig
Craig is thirty-two, single, and works for a recording studio in San Diego.
-A friend of mine tried to tell me that deep down inside, I really like boys and am a closet homosexual, but it isn't true. I know, because I've tried it, and it didn't do anything for me. I couldn't even get an erection. The reason my friend told me that was because he had seen the kinds of girls I pick up (or try to pick up; I don't always have good luck). They are slim and slight and have very small breasts, sometimes nothing more visible than a nipple, and short hair is always more attractive than long. See? Just like a boy. I do like boyish girls, girls who look like they are a boy of sixteen, but I do not like boys. There is a girl living in my apartment complex who is my ideal of a sexy woman. I dream about her all the time. Short-cropped hair, a young face, and wide green eyes, no breasts at all, just two little bumps poking up through her blouse, and almost a complete lack of hips. I found out she's gay, which makes me mad, because that means I'll probably never get to lay her. But I would like to be able to watch her making love to another woman, one just like her. That would really turn me on. In fact, I think about that all the time now.
Glen
Glen is on the staff of a well-known senator in Washington. He's unmarried, in his thirties, and hopes to follow his boss right on up to the White House. He is thoroughly enmeshed in politics. I talked with him for nearly forty-five minutes about the current Washington scene, until he finally got around to the subject of fantasy.
-I woke up in the middle of the night once, covered with cream. I was worried about what had happened. Then it came back to me somehow, I had been getting a blow-job by a lovely blond, in my sleep, and when she finally brought me to an orgasm by pulling on my nuts, I had really come in my bed. I had read about "nocturnal emission" when I was in a sex-hygiene class in school. But I'd never had one and wondered if there was something physically wrong with me.
Now I go to bed telling myself I'm getting sucked off by a beautiful girl or fucking in the midst of a harem, anything to get my head thinking dirty. Then I usually have a good wet dream, and the pleasure is better than masturbating.
George
George was married-for fifteen days-when he was eighteen. "It just didn't work out," he now says. At twenty-seven, he's trim and good-looking.
-I never had a wet dream in my whole entire life! I know you won't believe that, but it's true. You know why? I think it's because I always have been a crazy masturbator. I mean, I pound the pud night and day. I can't stand it. I work for my father, in my own office, and I spend most of the day just beating off under my desk. I even did it once in the conference room, right during a meeting of the old board of directors. I can't keep my hands off my dick. I fantasize about everything, a woman I may have met that morning coming in the building, a dirty picture I saw the week before, a movie star sucking my cock....
But I don't have a very active sex life. I never feel horny enough to go out and find a girl in a singles bar. I think maybe it's because my dick's worn out by night. I came seventeen times once in a single day. That's gotta be some kind of record. I get nervous about things. I don't much like my job, and playing with my cock takes my mind off it. Actually, there isn't much of a job. And coming really relaxes me. Better than a hot bath. I don't have any close buddies I can talk sex with. I wonder if I'm above average in masturbation? I come easily, also. Maybe that has something to do with it But I love it.
You asked me about wet dreams. I tried one time. I didn't touch my cock for about four days, waiting to see if I would have an orgasm in my sleep. Nothing happened. I would wake up with a hard-on and nearly go crazy not being able to relieve myself. So I gave up on the morning of the fifth day and shot off across the room! I don't think fucking can come close to beating off. I haven't fucked a girl in almost two years. I would rather think about fucking a girl while I'm pulling on my dick with my own hands.
Philip
-I have never masturbated in my life. I swear. No shit, I haven't. I have wet dreams. I dream incredible things like a beautiful-looking chick taking a leak on my balls. When I shoot, I wake up, sweating, feeling it lasting for like a fucking hour. I swear. I never felt that way playing with myself, so I never came like that. It never felt good enough. What feels good is when your cock shoots off in your sleep and you wake up with it all over the covers and everything. And it's cheaper than paying some two-bit whore to spread for you.
Kelly
Kelly is in his early forties; he's from Elmhurst, Illinois.
-Being happily married and the father of three growing boys, I don't think I have a very active fantasy life. I don't really have the time. But the one recurring thought I have is paying a prostitute to give me a blow-job. I have never slept with anyone but my wife, and I don't desire to. But the thought of a very cheap whore turns me on, having to write her a check for having gone down to her knees and making me cream. That is the one fantasy which gets my penis hard. I know why-it is something I could never and would never do. That is why it seems so stimulating.
Paul
Paul is twenty-three, works in a car wash, and goes to night school.
-I'm a book freak. Dirty books, paperbacks. I buy a whole stack of them at the dirty-book store in Hollywood, and I take one and start reading it (when I am home), and when I get to a hot part that really turns me on, I press my cock into the book and kinda wrap the pages around it and move it up and down, and I come like that The pages get all filled with semen and stick together, and it feels kinda like I fucked the girl I was reading about. I use the same books again and again until they are so stuck together they won't even open anymore.
Reuben
-I wash windows in a big office building. The things I see going on in those offices, let me tell you. All kinds of fucking and stuff. The best time was when I was washing the window of an office where just one secretary was sitting. We flirted with our eyes, and then she turned her chair around and chewed on a pencil as she lifted her skirt to show me her cunt. No underpants-the doll wasn't wearing no underpants. I got so wild, I whipped out my dick and came all down the window I had just cleaned. She smiled and turned back to her desk and went back to work. I remember that like the damn thing was happening right this minute. Turns me fucking on.
Henry
A friend of mine has known Henry for a number of years. He's the only single man living on his block, and the children flock to him. He seems to be the perfect father, so much so that everyone is always trying to marry him off. Content to be a bachelor, he leads a quiet life. He works as an architect and spends his weekends on his boat. At first he was reluctant to tell me the truth about what turns him on. Once he did, he seemed relieved.
-I like kids. I get along with them. I'm a bachelor, but I'm a good baby-sitter, do it all the time. I have to watch myself, though, because I want to take a young girl and turn her upside down and eat her cunt and asshole while she sucks on the tip of my cock. She could wrap her legs around my neck and I could carry her around like that. Then I could fall onto the bed and let her keep sucking, so the blood won't rush to her head. Sometimes I have to give a kid a bath, and I make sure I get a good feel when I'm rubbing the girl's cunt. She doesn't know I'm getting off on that. But I sure get a hard-on. I let her fall asleep once, naked, and I jerked off standing there by the bed looking at her cunt with all the folds in it.
The ways of masturbating were mentioned in a few replies to my question about wet dreams; it seems that the actual act of playing with your own cock in an unusual way was fantasy enough for some men. Four examples follow. None of them identified themselves. There was no need to.
-I tie a rubber band around my balls. Makes 'em feel real tight, real good. When I cream, they actually hurt, 'cause all the juice comes up from them and has to get past that tight rubber band. Oooooh, far-out, really far-out.
-I juice up my hands with hand lotion and rub it all over my cock and balls for hours, thinking that I'm in a massage parlor and two gorgeous broads are, working me over with their soft hands. Great way to jerk off. Sometimes I wear plastic gloves. Makes it even softer.
-I like to stick my cock into a rubber glove, the kind that women wear to do dishes. I squirt some corn oil in it first Then I jerk off with that, and it feels just like a slippery cunt.
-Nobody but me does this: I press my dick up against the dishwasher in my bachelor apartment, and the heat and the vibration that the thing makes brings me to an orgasm easily. I close my eyes and pretend some girl has my dick in her hot pussy, and it feels just like the real thing. A pussy substitute, I guess I'd call it.
A common fantasy for men is picturing a female in the act of masturbation. Sometimes it is mutual, with another woman or man, but most often the fantasy is merely a girl bringing herself to the point of orgasm.
-I get off on thinking of young housewives, home all day while the husband is off at work and the kids are at school. I see a beautiful woman of about twenty-eight, horny as hell, standing in the kitchen, rubbing her pussy against the edge of the counter. Then she gets a carrot out of the refrigerator, or maybe a stick of celery. She sticks it up her cunt and wiggles it around. Or the head of a bottle, or even a wooden spoon. All kinds of things. I once had a great orgasm thinking of a woman sliding a Polish sausage in and out of her pussy, and then cooking it for her husband.
-I'd love to see a woman sitting in a bathtub, just playing with her cunt, leisurely, taking her time, fingering herself until she came.
-I see ads for all those sex things, vibra-balls and joy jells and dildoes ... and vibrators. I fantasize sitting and watching a beautiful woman playing with a huge vibrator, stuffing it up her pussy until it almost disappears, putting another one up her ass until her whole body shakes. I get off on dreaming of a woman beating off, if that's what they call it.
-I saw my sister masturbate with a hairbrush once, tickling herself to an orgasm while she looked at a naked guy in a magazine. Up until then I never really knew chicks could do that, or did that. Now I can't stop thinking about it I'm getting up the guts to ask my girl to do it while I watch.
-I have a glass trophy sitting on my desk in the office that is very phallic. Sometimes I'll lock the door, whip out my dick, wrap it in Kleenex, and masturbate, thinking about my secretary coming in and sitting herself down on it, watching it slide right through her panties and up her cunt. Then she rides it until she brings herself off.
-A twelve-or thirteen-year-old girl, just discovering what sex is all about, lying back on a bed, spread, sliding a pop bottle in and out of her young snatch. That's a fantasy.
-Even when I'm fucking a girl, I can only think about one thing: a girl bringing herself off. I especially like picturing a pretty chick lying on a kitchen floor shoving a broom handle in and out of her pussy.
-I cream thinking about any chick sticking an electric toothbrush up her pussy.
-I'd love to watch a group of women masturbate each other; I've often fantasized that "sewing circles" and "bridge clubs" are cover-ups for organized feminist finger-fucking sessions.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Let's Hear It for Romance
One of the most interesting interviews I had in the course of putting this book together was with a young man in New York City. His name is Chuck, and he works in the production department of a publishing house. He was born in Racine, Wisconsin, went to school in New Mexico, and moved to New York four years ago. He has a steady girlfriend but feels he's still too young for marriage (he's twenty-nine). His fantasy life is as rich as his everyday life-he's constantly on the go, involved in civic and cultural affairs, interested in people, the way they live, think, and relate, and thus is an avid traveler. He had just returned from Rome when I talked with him, and a few of his fantasies have the Eternal City as background. Chuck owns seven pair of blue jeans and one denim blazer. He feels he'd rather spend money on plane tickets than the latest Cardin suit. He's his own man, but there's something in him that makes him universal. I found it quite easy to relate to him, and I think you will too. Here are selected excerpts from a long and enjoyable interview.
How would you describe your fantasy life, Chuck? I'm one of those people who cry when they see Gone with the Wind. An incurable romantic. I have some kinky dreams, sure. But mainly I dream scenes out of romantic movies, love scenes. I think I'm one of the last guys on earth thinking that kind of thing.
You really believe that? No. Absolutely not. I'm sure there's someone out there, in Missouri maybe, thinking the exact same thing.
Are you saying romance is dead? Pretty much. Open sex and zipless fucks and women's liberation have killed it. But there are a few of us diehards left.
You're only twenty-nine. A diehard at twenty-nine. It's crazy, you know, but I was raised in a good happy family. My mom and dad still get it on; they're still in love. Amazes me, to tell you the truth. But I really respect that. I've done some zany sex things and had some far-out dreams, but the notion of loving someone and making love with her is the thing that's most fulfilling. What dirty film or blow-up doll that you can fuck gives you that satisfaction? I'd rather have a pet hamster. At least he can relate to you....
What I'm saying is, most people I know in my age group and profession-not only publishing, but mainly people connected with the arts, music, theater, things like that-don't put romance on the list of important things in life. Group gropes, yeah. Starfucking, sure. Nameless balling, that's big. I don't put any of that down. The trouble is, everyone tells me I'm a bit square because I'm going steady with a girl and happen to find it satisfying. I think they're the ones missing something. I don't know, everyone seems so lonely. Was it always like this?
I hear it wasn't. What do you think fantasy has to do with loneliness? If you're lonely, fantasies are your key to sanity. A person isn't unsalvageable until his fantasies too become lonely. That's the end. Maybe this sounds too simplistic, but if a guy's got his dick and an imagination, he's still together. You're not ready for the funny farm if you can still whack off to a good sexy dream.
Tell me about some of yours. One of them comes from envy. A friend of mine, a writer, recently did a book with two chicks, two porno stars. Another guy I know did a magazine article with two famous women who admitted they'd slept together. I picture myself in both friends' shoes, a tape recorder in one hand and my cock in the other. I think about playing the tape later, every time I want to jerk off.
Does watching two girls excite you? Sure. But this is more than that. I picture myself directing what they're doing, sitting there as the power figure, you know, ordering them to do whatever I wanted. That's the thrill, that I'm running this show. Maybe secretly I've always wanted to make a porno film.
Do they turn you on? Some do, some don't. What's good about them is they can stimulate a dead imagination. I know people-my parents, for example-who still hadn't discovered all the positions until they saw them up there on the big screen. Then they went home and tried them. That's a fine thing. There's an educational aspect about pornography that's helpful, but all in all, most of it's pretty much crap.
I had this fantasy in Rome not too long ago. It started out in front of a porno theater. I was basking there in the Italian sunlight, probably because I have never found enough sun in New York to bask in, wearing a tight pair of jeans so my cock showed. I'm not too romantic to exclude a little exhibitionism now and then. A woman walks by. She's incredible. Face, tits, ass, legs, perfect, the ultimate. We don't talk. She looks down at my crotch, and it hardens a little. That's all she needs. She takes my hand as I extend it-my cock is extending all this time too-and we walk into the cool, dark theater. A dirty movie is showing, and I can't understand a word of the dialogue because it's Danish with Italian subtitles. But that doesn't matter. Everyone around us is petting. We stand there, in one of the aisles, and she opens' my fly and falls to her knees. The whole fucking theater is watching us instead of the film. She sucks me off and leaves, and I never see her again. But what a memory she leaves me with!
That's the fantasy of a romantic? Sure. Aren't fantasies usually the opposite of what we normally do in life? Hell, I used to have a beat-off dream I used all the time. I was a male librarian-well, of course I was a male librarian-and girls would come into the building and ask for "closed-shelf" books. When I took them to the locked room, they turned to putty when they saw some of those pictures, and I fucked them right there on the tables or between the shelves. Now, I'll tell you, that isn't like me. But it got me off.
Any more? My swimming fantasy.
What's that? I stand on the balcony of a motel that surrounds the swimming pool. I beat off as about a hundred girls swim nude in the water singing "My Man."
Seriously. I fantasize I'm a cab driver. Everyone in this city wants to be a cabbie for a day. The chicks don't have enough money to pay the fare, so I let them take it out in trade. I tell them to come into the front seat and suck my cock. I whip it out, and the girl goes down on it and I lift the meter and cream.
You've mentioned oral sex a lot. Do you prefer it? A long time ago, my dad, who was feeling very fatherly and best-friendish at the same time, decided to tell me he "understood" I would visit a cathouse sometime soon (I never have). He said, "Remember, Charles, you can pick up all kinds of diseases. If you want to make love, find a good clean Catholic girl. If you go to a whorehouse, remember there ain't nothing like a good blow-job."
What was your most recent fantasy? Gayle, the girl I'm dating now, and I saw a deck of porno playing cards the other night in the window of a store on Broadway. Later we were making love, and I suddenly flashed that I was working in a studio that made those kinds of things, cards and posters and all, and my job was to think up the fifty-two different positions, the fifty-two variations. I came when I got to the seventh! Gayle didn't ask what I'd been thinking, but she said I must have been really horny because I shot off halfway across the room. She was licking my balls when I shot.
You have fantasies about porno playing cards when you're making love to the girl you love? How romantic is that? Very. Honest, I mean that. Little kicky things like that fast dream can enhance the physical pleasure of the act. It doesn't detract from my loving her. In fact, it adds to it. If she hadn't been there licking my balls in the first place, the orgasm wouldn't have been so good.
And there's a difference between making love and having sex with her. Making love is just that-fucking with your emotional, spiritual, and physical self. You blend with the other person and become one for a few moments. You're in heaven. You don't need a fantasy then, because it wouldn't help. You're high enough on the real situation.
Having sex is different. When I came thinking about the fifty-two positions, I was alone in a sense. I wasn't blending with Gayle, she was helping me come. Like masturbating. I've done the same to her, helped her reach orgasm when she was obviously thinking something other than the fact that we were on the floor together. It's great. I'll tell you, though, when I don't see her for three or four days, my best fantasy is making love to her. I lie there and I can actually feel my cock sliding into her. I can relive that sensation, and no kinky fantasy gives me more pleasure.
What you're saying is, there are different fantasies for different situations, different times. ... Different people, different circumstances. Different fantasies even for the same people, but at different times of the evening.
What? Well, say you are balling and you come like crazy, no fantasy helping you out, you're getting off on the chick you're fucking. You relax and lie there for a while listening to music, and you start playing with each other. You get hard again and you want to come. She sucks you off, and you pull out a fantasy from the bag in your mind and use it. You come like crazy. You bring the girl off with your fingers, grooving on her moans and movements. You go have a peanut-butter sandwich in the kitchen, and before you know it, you want to do it again. This time she watches you beat off. It takes a different fantasy this time. Same night of sex, but something different is required to make you come. See what I mean?
You're in publishing. Why the success of the female-fantasy books? A need. Someone-mainly Nancy Friday-saw the right thing in the right place at the right time. There had been male-fantasy books before, but they were never called that. I'm talking about most novels written by male authors that included sex scenes. Most were imagination, fantasy. Most magazine pieces, too. Suddenly it was "discovered" that women had fantasy lives as well, and it was time to let the world know. I didn't think there was a need for the book you're doing until I realized that things were getting unbalanced; more and more female-fantasy books, nonfiction and fiction both, kept appearing, and whatever male fantasies people knew existed were the result of professional writers.
There is a need to hear what the average guy dreams about as well as what Norman Mailer chooses to tell us.
What's the best place a person's head can be at, regarding fantasies? You're expecting me to say don't think about S&M all the time, think about making love on a beach with the stars out and violins playing in the background. No, just because that kind of thing appeals to me, I don't think everyone should get off on it. I think people should be what they are and admit it to themselves. Know yourself better, and you'll have better fantasies. I know a guy who has all-male dreams, and he can't really admit to himself that he wants to see what it's like to make it with another man. If you admit to yourself you like sex with strangers in park bushes, you'll have better fantasies about such things. You won't feel guilty about having them. You won't wake up (or look at yourself in the mirror after you beat off) and say, "Man, why did I dream something so sick and disgusting?" You'll say, "Wow, that was incredible. I may not do those things all the time in life, but dreaming them sure as hell is good for me."
Should "secret sex" remain secret? There are things about ourselves we'll never tell. With some people it's their sex fantasies. It's up to the person. I don't think it's an easy thing to discuss with friends, however, because you feel they're going to say, "You're a little stranger than I figured, Chuck, my boy." It's easier to tell someone like you, someone you've never met before. Or, easier yet, anonymously, on the phone, where you don't even have to face the other person. Secret sex, as you call it, can be pretty deep, dark secrets.
True. The calls and letters I've received have been, on the whole, more graphic and honest than the interviews I've had face-to-face. I ask for first names but nothing more. They give them-some uneasily-and are relieved I don't press for more. If they want to add background, fine. I want honesty. That's the most important thing. You do, huh? Everything I've told you is lies, all lies!
I'll print it anyhow. Well, send me a copy. I'll be on a deserted island, just Gayle and me and a palm tree....
And the violins playing in the background, I know. You got something against violins?
CHAPTER NINE
Fantasy-Bizarre
The word "bizarre" is not used here in the sense of putting down fantasies that seem unusual; it is a category in which to place sexual dreams that do not fall readily into the ones I've already established. The term "bizarre" also suggests that we can't quite pinpoint what the fantasy is all about, or from what motivation it comes, or even what distinct purpose it serves. But, again, the purpose for inclusion here is to show that these fantasies do exist-that many people have them, not only you. What must be remembered is that the fantasies you are about to read are very personal and deal with a set of circumstances and trappings that none of us know about. We must respect the fact that these are real and somehow valid, even though we may disagree strongly with the thought of one's parents dying as being a sexual turn-on, as is evident in the first letter from Calvin, a fellow who says he is a preacher and pornographer. If the following fantasies seem repulsive to you, there is no need to read them. But if they correspond in some slight way to dreams you've had yourself-just in their tone or in their sense of passion-then you will see that thoughts of a bizarre type are natural, even though you may never be able to explain exactly why you're having them, and are therefore valid as sexual fantasies.
Calvin
The following account is one of the strangest and most graphic I've received. It was accompanied by this note:
Dear Sir:
This is in answer to your "secret-sex query. I am a preacher in a town in the South. I wanted to tell you about my sex dream. This is the story. I have written sexy stories based on other dreams I have had for several pornographic publications. I hope this will fit into your book and research.
Sincerely in the Lord, Calvin-
I tend to believe the boast of having written pornographic stories-judge for yourself by the detail and obvious "porno" style.
-I'll tell you about the best sex dream I ever had. I'm a man of the Lord, a preacher. My parents were evangelists and I was brought up on the Bible. When I was in my late teens I once went off by myself for a day in the forest, in the woods. I unzipped my pants and pulled my dick out of my shorts and let it hang free down between my legs. Yes, my friend, preachers' sons need to get some stimulation too. The sun filtered through the trees, and I looked down to see my cock glowing above the dark colors of the fallen leaves. I opened my pants and pulled my shorts down to my knees and then sat down on the ground and fell back to the grass. I started rubbing my balls with one hand and playing with my cock with the other.
I beat off. I came fast, and let it squirt all over my hands and balls. I didn't care. I figured I would wash up before supper at the parsonage. It felt good. Warm and sticky and different. I had never done anything like it before because I had been fed the fear of the Lord.
I closed my eyes, with my hands still on my cock, and drifted off to sleep....
All of a sudden the trees turned into people. They were all standing there, dressed, as I lay in the middle of the woods with my hands on my naked abdomen. They started moving in closer and closer, till they were gathered around me and there was no more sunlight. "Look how big it is!" a voice said.
"Oh, I'd give anything to have a dong like his!"
"I want to be fucked by that!"
"Do you think the thing is twelve inches?"
"Fifteen, I'll bet."
"I want to suck it."
"Can we touch?"
Words like that were filling the air. I reveled in it. I started playing for them. I stroked my cock and lifted my balls and wriggled my ass in the leaves. I still couldn't see the faces. The huddle they had formed had obliterated their faces. I could see only a small patch of sunlight in the center of the heads.
Then they parted and moved away. Suddenly they weren't people any longer, but trees. And I was lying there with my hard cock in my hands. I sat up, astonished.
"Where did everyone go?" I asked softly.
"I'm still here," a soft feminine voice said from behind me. I turned around to find a beautiful young girl there. She was dressed in a soft white nightgown and stood on an old tree stump. Her skin was very pale, very light, and her eyes were like none I had ever seen.
"You are very beautiful," she said, holding out her hands to me. I got up and started walking to her. But my pants were down around my ankles, and I almost fell. 'Take them off," she said.
I stepped out of my boots and removed my pants. I stood there in nothing but my socks and my plaid lumberjack shirt. My cock was hard. My balls were sticky with come. "Come here," she ordered.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"I don't have a name," she whispered as she moved to the ground and slowly lifted her nightgown over her head. "You're beautiful," I mumbled.
"I want that huge cock in my cunt," she whispered, spreading her pussy lips with her fingers.
Her cunt was pink and juicy. The lips were thick and full, and surrounded with soft light hair. Her hips were alabaster, classic, sculptured. She had small breasts with light little nipples that pointed up to the sky. Her blond hair floated all over the leaves on which she was lying, and her deep eyes stared at me with passion. There was something about her face that looked familiar. She reminded me of someone.
I knelt down between her legs. Then I bent down and kissed her, and as I did, my cock found her cunt lips all by itself and fitted between them. We didn't use our hands at all. Our bodies moved together as if they had done so a thousand times. It was as if we were one, a strange feeling. My cock slid up her without stopping, and filled her totally, completely.
She sighed and pressed her face against mine. I kissed her neck as I started moving my hips, pumping into her with all the strength I had, slowly, hard, giving her all I had.
"Calvin, oh, Calvin, I knew it would be like this," she whispered.
"I love fucking you," I said, biting on her earlobe, sliding my tongue over her neck. Her breasts pushed up against my chest, and I could hear her heart pounding and feel the rock-like little tits scratching against me.
"Oh, fuck me, brother, fuck my pussy hard," she breathed, just as though she were in the congregation.
I shoved into her with all my might. Twigs under her ass snapped. I kicked my feet in the leaves. The whole forest was silent, and my head was spinning. I was on the brink of a great orgasm, but I wanted to hold it till she came.
I stopped moving and played with her tits, letting her slow ass movements cause my cock to rub gently against her little hard clit. She was becoming more and more excited by the moment. "Feel my cock in you!" I said, flexing my muscles so my dick jumped inside her cunt.
"I love it! I LOVE IT!" she squealed, and brought her feet up around my back. She held them there, so her pussy was spread flat against my pubic mound, and my cock was in her to the hilt. Her cunt seemed to grab at my cock like a thousand little mouths, all sucking hard.
"I'm going to cornel I want you to come!" I yelled, and my voice echoed through the trees, just like a sermon.
Again the trees had turned to people. They were all watching closely, looking down at us as we fucked. I started fucking her hard, now that the people were watching-I was on stage again, I was in front of the congregation. They were watching my ass and my balls and my cock sliding in and out of her steaming young cunt.
"Throw it to her!" someone shouted.
"Make the cream shoot out her nose!" another voice said.
"fuck her!"
"fuck her, the little motherfucker!"
"Stick it to her!"
I was really heated now. I pumped hard, hard, harder. She breathed deeply and clawed my shoulders. Her cunt was wet and throbbing, ready for my sperm.
"Stick it to her, boy. Screw her to the ground!
"praise jesus!"
"Fuck her! Fuck her!"
My head spun. Were we in the meeting hall, in church? "Lookit this!" a man shouted. "Preacher's boy's fucking his sister!"
Sister? I slammed my cock in, feeling my balls tighten. What are they saying?
"Fuck me, brother! Fuck me like Dad fucked Mom!" She clawed at my back and pressed her lips to mine. I pulled up, still pumping my near-shooting cock into her hot cunt. I looked at her closely. Now I knew who she looked like. I knew why she had looked familiar. She looked like me! The thought stunned me. "OH, GOD!" I screamed, and pulled out of her. I jumped to my feet just as my climax erupted. I saw the jism shooting out of my cock, hitting her, covering her with drops of dewy come.
"Cover me with your load, Calvin," she moaned. "Cock-juice me all over! Give me your spunk!" She wiped the white stuff all over herself.
I stood there as the people watched me. My cock was still dripping come down into her open mouth. I had tears in my eyes. I looked into the crowd. My mom and dad were watching. I yelled "JESUS!" like a wounded animal and fell to the ground. I asked the girl who she was.
"I'm your sister," she said. "I don't have a name, because I was never born. Our mother had me aborted. I wanted to be born, because I knew you were there and I knew I would love you."
"But I don't understand," I said.
"You will," she said, and then faded into thin air.
I turned, to see my parents fucking, and my mother was pregnant and my father was fucking her so hard she was screaming that he would hurt the baby. Then he started beating her, and she fell and he said he didn't want another kid, that she wasn't fit to have one, and he was going to have her aborted.
Then I picked up a knife and killed my father. But my mother lost the baby and died too.
I woke up from this dream in the forest I don't know where it came from or why. I remember every detail. I come when I think about killing my parents.
Andrew
I wasn't sure whether to include this in "Heterosexual Fantasies" or not; I finally did, because, so far, Andrew is still straight, even though he shows interest in men. He is a college professor and single.
-I interrupted my college education with two years in the Army. I have two sisters, one older than me, one younger, and our family has always been pretty close. We seemed to be very dependent on each other, more so than most families. My dad was always pretty strict and very religious. He had a quick temper, but he never swore. My mom was as religious as my dad, and very devoted to her family. We were her whole world.
I never paid too much attention to my mom when she tried to discipline me, because she wasn't very forceful. Yet, when it came to my father, I was always rebelling against him, even as a four-year-old child. His voice always sounded more threatening to me than it actually was, but I didn't realize that until later years.
There were always heavy fights and verbal battles with my dad, and even though I can admit to loving him, it seems I always felt enraged when he asked even the slightest favor of me. After each argument with him, I felt guilty, and that feeling continued to torment me. My mother was very often on my side, especially when my father slapped me. She would always come up to my room later in the evening and caress and comfort me.
At that time I was having fantasies of pig sties and sewers and thinking how I belonged in them.
I was never much of an athlete and would do anything I could in school to avoid being in any of the sports competition. As I grew older, I made up my own games that I could play alone rather than play with the rest of the children. Everyone thought of me as a very serious and mature young lad, when in reality it was only my inability to enter child's play.
As I grew into adolescence, I became more self-conscious and worried about not having friends. And masturbation brought with it more guilt feelings. I started to have sexual fantasies around this time, involving my female teachers and even some of the girls in my classes. I fantasized about a war between the sexes, and I would be hurt in the war and the women would capture me, take me away somewhere, and make love to me. I would think about having a bunch of women grouped around me with their hands on my face. This would excite me, and I would have an orgasm.
Hands became a very important part of my fantasies, and when I would masturbate, I would use a pillow as a woman, with a picture of a nude woman with her hands outstretched. I would paint my nails and pretend that my hands were the same hands as the woman in the picture. Later on, I used artificial nails. I fantasized that I was making love to a woman, but that I was the woman also. I would put on my sister's underclothes during these fantasies.
Eventually, in my fantasies I became the woman all the time in the role of intercourse. I don't think very much about the man involved in the intercourse, and he's present in my fantasies only to complete my role as a woman. When I am alone at home, I carry out my fantasies, dressing as a woman, calling myself by a woman's name, and thinking of myself as a soft and feminine person. When dressed as a woman, I masturbate only anally, because it seems more feminine.
I've never really had any homosexual experiences. I've had fantasies about being in bed with a boy, but men do not attract me sexually. I've been propositioned by homosexuals, but their advances don't turn me on. But if one would let me dress as a woman, I might be tempted.
Gardner
Gardner is forty. He's married, and he and his wife have two adopted children. He manages a funeral parlor, although he is not actually a mortician. His life is a quiet, respectable one; he is the assistant mayor of his small town, and last year was voted "Best Citizen" by the town council. Gardner and his wife are from Iowa, although they are typical of people from small towns anywhere in the United States.
-I like to think about my wife peeing in my mouth, and then I pee on her underwear. My wife is somewhat of a prude when it comes to sex, and I have to fantasize a wild sex life with her, or else I'd never be able to touch her. I think about shoving my dong up her ass, which she would never really let me do. I like to hear her scream when I do it. Also, I like to put my organ between her tits and then come, so it hits her in the face.
I also think a lot about black women. I think about putting my tongue up a black woman's ass, and rimming her, and then having her pee on me. I want to put a banana up my wife's cunt, but I can only do that in my fantasies. I also think about watching other people have sex. That would be a big thrill. I used to try to watch my parents, but I could never see anything through their keyhole.
Enemas Anyone?
Enemas figured into many responses on sexual fantasies, and many of them were indeed "secret"-it would look as though the notion of sexual pleasure being derived from the administering of an enema exists with great guilt. Most men reporting this kind of stimulation seemed ashamed of it, or at least hesitant to talk about it for the fear of rejection.
-A nurse gave me an enema in the hospital once. Since then I like the notion of a woman sticking a tube up my ass. I even like the feeling of the water bloating me. I come easy when I get sucked after the enema is running into me. I also like the hot gush as the water runs out my ass. I have tried a new variation on this. I had a girl blow into a tube that was up my ass, and I felt almost as if a balloon was up there. It was the greatest! If no girl is handy, do it yourself. Hell, it's your asshole.
-I know you're gonna laugh at me, but I like to have an enema given to me by a beautiful young girl. I have a nurse's uniform I bought myself, which I let the girl wear. But it is hard to find anyone to do that. Everyone laughs at me when I ask about it.
-This'll be the sickest thing you've heard, I'm sure. But I don't care, really, as long as my name isn't going on this. I get off on one thing and one thing only: enemas. I like getting and giving them. There's nothing better than a night with a groovy chick and an enema bottle. I think feeling that water in your ass is just what a chick feels like when you come in her. I can hold the enema in for a long time. Even long enough to give the girl one and then we sit in the bathtub and let them out together. It's fantastic. Now, isn't that the most outrageous thing you've heard? But it's true.
-I have never had this done, but I dream about a naked woman administering an enema to me as I lie on the floor of the bathroom. I don't think it will ever come true, because I am too frightened to ask. I once begged a girl to do it to me, a girl I had been dating for a long time. She said she never knew I was perverted until that moment, and I never saw her again. I wonder if there are others with my problem?
-Why does an enema make me come easily? My mom used to give them to me and my brother when we were kids, but they hurt then. Now one makes me come like Casanova. I give them to myself. I would like a girlfriend to do it, but if I told them I get my rocks off on something like that, no one would talk to me again.
-Is getting an enema in a locked bathroom secret sex? If so, I belong in your book. I pay a girl twenty dollars each Tuesday to stick a tube up my ass and let a pint of hot soapy water run into my asshole. Then she sucks my cock as it runs out of me, while I'm on the toilet, and I come easily. This must be considered sick and unnatural behavior, but it is truthfully what is my biggest and very best sexual secret.
-I love giving girls enemas and watching them drop all that water out of their tight assholes. I like douching a cunt I've just fucked, too. I told a pal this once, and he said if I wasn't drunk, I was out of my mind. I wasn't drunk.
... and then we go into the bedroom and I lie down on my side and curl my legs up under me. The lady takes a long plastic tube and greases it. Then she spreads my ass cheeks with her fingers and kisses the hole before she sticks the tube into me. As the water slowly fills my belly, I eat her dripping pussy and feel my erection building. When I am full, I let her play with my penis until I can't stand it any longer. I go to the bathroom with a little water running down my legs, and she takes my penis in her hand and jerks me off as I let the enema fluid rush out of me all at once. I can't have a better orgasm than that.
-I'm a thirty-year-old construction worker who don't give two shits about what is normal and not. What is normal for me is my basement, where I have rubber sheets on the floor and walls. I like to piss on girls. I drink a lotta beer and piss like a racehorse. Them girls all don't like to be pissed on much, but if you get 'em drunk enough....
Another thing I like is giving one of them girls an enema. I got me a real big enema bag, and I fill it with beer, warm beer, all sudsy, you know? Man, I do it to her pussy and her butt. Me and this girl, one special girl I know, we give them to each other and we stand up with the beer inside us and I stick my rod up her snatch and when we fuck we let the beer out. We stand there humping like rabbits with the beer enema running outta our asses. I hose down the place when we're done.
-I got a girlfriend who's thing is sticking a plastic tube up my asshole and filling it with water. It's an enema, but you say that word and people look at you like you're some fucking degenerate or something. It's her thing, not mine! But I can dig it. My asshole is very tight, she tells me, and that is why, when I hold my legs up to my chest in the bathtub as I'm lying on the floor of the tub, the stream of water from my ass shoots all the way to the wall.
-My brother is a homosexual. I guess it's always bothered me, but that isn't what you want to know about. I have to talk about him because he turned me onto the best fantasy I've ever had. And that is sticking a bottle of soda up a girl's pussy and pouring all of it into her. Then, when she's bloated and moaning, you let her flood your whole body with the bubbly stuff. I'd use champagne, but I can't afford it. My brother told me a guy he knew liked to have him pour a bottle of cola up his ass, like an enema, and then he would let it out all over him. It sickened me, but when I transferred it to a girl's hot pussy, all thoughts of repulsion changed. I guess you can't knock it till you try it.
CHAPTER TEN
Fantasy-In Detail
The following stories differ from other accounts in this book in that they are just that: each is a "story." In these particular cases, it may be that the men talking liked to detail their experience more. Or they liked prolonging the pleasure of talking about fantasy over the phone. Maybe it made them feel good to be able to relate all the minute details they've seen again and again in their best sexual dreams. Maybe once the secret sexual feelings were translated from dreams to words, they got caught up in them and didn't want to stop (one man went on for almost two hours, and so little of it had to do with the purpose of this book that I've cut it down to a few minutes here).
Who knows the reasons? Who cares? What we have here is long, juicy fantasies, filled with excitement and a sense of pleasure. Reading them, at times you'll feel that you're reading excerpts from pornographic books. And isn't that what sex fantasies are supposed to be like?
Wendell
This man is a respiratory therapist in a California hospital. He's thirty-one, divorced, and says his fantasy life has "taken off' since he walked out on his wife. Obviously, fantasy is important to him; he told his story with a sense of joy.
-My girl became my girl in a funny way. I went into a dry cleaner's with a suit and I gave it to the girl behind the counter. She had nice tits and wasn't afraid of showing them. Well, when I went back to pick it up at the end of the week, she pulled this tag off it, you know, and said there were spots that wouldn't come out. She showed me where they were-on the crotch, by the zipper. I had gone to a dirty movie and got so excited that I blew my load in my pants. Well, that was actually why I got the suit cleaned.
She was coming on to me. "What are those? We tried every chemical to get them off." She had a nice voice, like her tits. So I said, "Um, coconut milk." Now, where I got that from, I don't know, but that is what I said to her. She giggled and told me she liked to drink coconut milk, it was her favorite thing.
"I have some at home. Wanna come over?" I was getting a hard cock talking to her. I was pressing my cock and balls to the counter.
"Sure. Why not?" She said that and then wrote down my apartment number on the dry-cleaning ticket. Sure enough, about ten that night she showed up. "I'm here for that milk you promised," she said, and I let her in.
We didn't get far. She fell to her knees without even kissing me or anything. She fell to her knees and opened her blouse and her tits fell out. The nipples were almost black, and the biggest I had ever seen. Anyhow, she held them up for me, you know, so I could get a good look. My cock sprang up in my pants.
She pulled down my zipper, and my cock just forced its way out. "Ummmm," she moaned, purring like a cat. "That's the most beautiful penis I've ever seen." She called it a "penis" instead of a "cock." She touched it and said, "Ummmm, T think coconut milk will taste better out of this faucet." And she put her lips on the head, just the head, and moved her tongue over it.
I leaned against the wall. She unbuckled my belt and opened my pants so they fell in a heap around my ankles. Don't you believe them dirty books where it takes forever and forever for the guy to get the chick to go down on him. This really happened. She looked up at me from under my cock and said, "Oh, you have the most beautiful testicles I've ever seen, too. Can I lick them?" Could she lick them? She could fucking have them!
I wanted to move into the bedroom and take off all our clothes, but she stayed put in the hall by the door. She took my cock in her mouth. She was a fantastic cocksucker. She must have gone down every day on the guys in the cleaner's. She took it all the way down her throat. She worked my balls with her fingers, and every time I was going to come, she stopped and grabbed my cock in her hands and pulled hard, so the pain would stop me from corning. "What a beautiful and tasty penis you have!" she kept saying. I felt her tits moving against my knees.
When I finally shot, it was the biggest load of come I ever shot in my life. I never had my joint copped better than her. She drank it down and sucked every last drop out of it. I was making a mark on the wall, I was sweating so hard. I think she was sucking my dick for about an hour. When it got soft, she still wouldn't take her mouth off it. I told her I wanted to fuck her and eat her if she wanted, but she didn't. She finally took my cock out of her lips and said, "I must get home. My husband is making dinner."
So she left. There I was, standing with my pants around my ankles, my dick swinging happily between my legs, grinning like a goddamn frog. When she opened the door, after she had put those beautiful knockers away, she said, "Thanks for the coconut milk. See you in the store."
She does my dry cleaning for free now.
Jack
Jack is forty, runs a travel agency in Chicago, is married.
-I'm lying on the beach in Jamaica, near the Rose Hall Great House. It is getting dark and the sun is setting and I see a girl walking up the beach. She is wearing a caftan, and I can just make out the curves of her body through the material as it blows in the Caribbean wind. She walks up to me without a word and falls to her knees in the white sand. She bends down and kisses the pouch of my trunks. I put my hands under my head and watch as she gently tugs them down and looks at my semi-hard prick. She strokes it with her fingertips until it is erect, and then she lifts the caftan to expose her lovely pussy, covered with soft hair, and she gets on top of me and rides me, sliding my cock into her violently. People walk by us on the beach and stare in wonder. She jumps off just before I come, and holds my cock to her face. I squirt the milky stuff all over her soft skin. It runs down her cheeks like tears, and she licks it from her lips. Then she gets up and walks off into the night. I read a book later about the White Witch of Rose Hall and wonder if she fucked me on the beach.
Charlie
Charlie is the father of four young children. He sells ice cream and confections in New York's Central Park during the summer.
-One day I'm walking through Central Park. I see a little girl standing by a tree. There are not many people about. I walk up to her and start talking. She looks like Alice in Wonderland. I tell her I have something very special to show her. It is soft and small, but it grows up to be big and strong, and she will like the taste of it. She asks me what it is. I unzip my pants and show her my soft cock.
She is hesitant at first, but soon she starts to touch it. Then she sees it getting strong and big, and she gasps. She plays with it as it lengthens, and then I tell her that the best way to make it go down again is to lick it and suck it like a Pop-sickle. I tell her it will explode with cream, just like warm ice cream. She bends over and licks it, and I shudder. My balls are holding back the load of jism I want to shoot!
She licks it many times, over the head with her young tongue, liking it. Then I show her, with my mouth and thumb, how to put the whole head in her mouth, and she does so. I collapse onto the grass in a violent orgasm as she chokes on the "warm ice cream." When I open my eyes, to my surprise, she has not run away. She sits there with a drip of semen on her chin, smiling. She liked it. She looks down at my deflated cock and smiles, then touches it again. "Will it grow big again if I lick it some more?" she asks. I tell her yes, and if she would like, we will go to my secret apartment, where I will teach her more things like that.
We go to the apartment, and I take off all my clothes. She studies my body with some trepidation, but I assure her no harm will come to her. She tells me she, never saw her daddy without clothes on, and does he look like me? I tell her I look better. She seems entranced. She fingers my testicles as though they are the most fascinating things she's ever seen. I drop them into her mouth, and she learns to suck them just as she learned to suck my cock, only she cannot understand why they don't explode as my dick did.
I play with her as she sheds her soft clothes. I teach her to put a finger up her pussy, which feels nice. Her own finger. Then she asks me to do it, and my finger is bigger, so she feels more pleasure. I move it around up in her, way up there in her little pussy, all wet and mushy. Then I tell her my cock can fit in there too and it will explode with the warm ice cream. She seems eager. I begin to spread her tiny cunt with my fingers, and with my tongue, kissing the mound. She lies back on the bed, her hands clenched. I start to mount her, and she feels pain. I screw some Vaseline onto my dick, and we try it like that, slowly, very slowly. Her muscles start to give way, and I push into her a little. She shivers and cries out, and I moan, "The ice cream will come, the ice cream will come," and she trusts me. Finally, I am in her. My cock is not real thick, but very long. Which is better, because already her pussy is bleeding. I have taken her hymen. And after just a few strokes, my cock goes wild, stuffing her aching cunt full of fluid. I pull out right away so as not to cause her any extra pain, and she licks the creamy stuff off my cock head. She sucks me some more. I think she finds some kind of security in having my prick inside her. I teach her the words "cock,"
"prick,"
"dick,"
"balls,"
"nuts,"
"come,"
"jism." She likes them and giggles. I tell her she has a "cunt," and she likes that too. Then I ask her if she has any friends who would like to join in with us, any other girls who would like to taste my ice cream too.
The next day she shows up at my apartment with two girlfriends. They have come to learn how to suck dick. It goes on forever.
Jamie
This man is a twenty-five-year-old backpacker, drives an old Rambler, and lives "off the land."
-I pick up a young girl in some town and bang the fuck outta her. I rip off her clothes in a field just outside town and shove my fat dick up her twat and pump her fulla come. Then I stick a finger up her ass while I force her to suck my baby, suck it hard until her face is red, until I come. Then I make her play with herself awhile so my battery gets recharged. When I am hard again, I pistol-whip her face with my dick and blast her face and eyes and hair with all that creamy white stuff. She is nearly blind and in shock when I pull her panties on her, stick her in the back of the car, and drive her to the corner where I found her.
The next day, I'm out in the field again, taking a sunbath, lying there naked with my hard cock pointing up at the sun. I'm thinking about the chick I had the day before. All of a sudden she comes walking up the hill. She has another young girl with her. She liked it! She wants more and wants me to teach her girlfriend I She keeps getting young girls for me all the time!
Ricky
-Hi. I read about your upcoming book and wanted to send a contribution. I'm a twenty-two-year-old college student going to school here in Ohio, and my name is Ricky. I have a good body, and when I was in high school I started modeling for the art classes. You know, sculpture and painting. Well, it was pocket money, and I didn't mind all those kids staring at my body for an hour at a time. You see, I'm well-endowed, and I'm proud of my prick. I used to get stares when I was in grade school, in the bathroom. Looks of envy from all the other kids-they wanted to be as big as me. It astonishes me, though, because my dad has a small cock, and my older brother's is just about average, if I remember correctly. You know what they say about the milkman...?
Anyhow, getting serious, I wanted to tell you I have continued modeling for art classes here on campus. I have two fantasies. One is that when I'm kneeling up there bare-assed, some girl is finally going to get the hots so bad she won't be able to control it. She will toss her clay against the wall and tackle me, shoving my big dick down her throat as fast as she can. Then all the others will join in, pulling off their panties and diddling themselves as they watch her suck. They'll all get in line for a chance to kiss my dick. And if the class has some guys in it, they can beat off watching the girls doing me.
I once got a terrific hard-on in class. The instructor was an old man, and he tried to have me expelled, but the dean (a woman) was very understanding, she asked me if I thought it would happen again, and I said no, because what had happened that day was that a very gorgeous chick was sitting in front of me with her sketch pad on her lap, and I could see she wasn't wearing any underwear! She did it purposely to see if I would respond. She wanted to see that big piece of meat hard. I wasn't embarrassed about it, and I think the class loved it, but that fart-asshole instructor was bent out of shape. Probably cause his professor's prick isn't bigger than his little finger.
Anyhow, the dean said something like, "When you have a very large penis, people tend to envy it." I took that to be an invitation. I said something like, "Oh, it's not that big." And she finally said, "I've heard about it." So I showed it to her. I whipped it out right there in her office and let her look. In a minute she had hiked her skirt and pulled down her panties and was bending over her desk as I was sliding my dick into her hot pussy. She let me go back to posing the next day.
The other fantasy is one that really happened. I have always dreamed of a class of chicks going down on me, right? Well, in town, there was a "painting class" advertising for a young male model. I applied and showed this woman my naked body and got the job. One night a week for fifteen or so women. I figured that was good enough. I went there and stripped and went out into the classroom. The place was full of smoke, and the women (all in their forties and fifties) sat around little tables with drinks in their hands. There wasn't any sign of paintbrushes. Just horny women. I had been hired to service them all! They started to come onto me, and I finally picked the best-looking one in the place, one with great big jugs, and we fucked in front of the others. I didn't come, because I knew a few more would want it, and so I fucked about three of the women before I finally beat off and shot my wad into the air. I was freaked out, but it was exciting. Some old broad came up and started licking my come off the fucking floor! I never went back, but they paid me fifty dollars for the session, which was pretty good.
Anyhow, I'd rather have a class of young girls lusting after my dick than a bunch of women older than my mom. It's a great thing having a big cock. I'm glad I was born with it. I can see it's going to keep me happy for a hell of a long time.
Faron
-I found two girls sitting in my room at college one day when I came back from doing my laundry. I didn't know who they were or what they were doing there. It didn't matter. They were naked and looking through my copies of porno magazines. The two girls started undressing me even before I got to say anything. The older girl kissed my shoulders and neck, then offered me her breasts, while the other one cradled my balls in her hand and then licked and kissed my dick, which was bursting already. She lowered her warm mouth over the head of my cock and pulled back the foreskin with her teeth. I shook in pleasure. She took all my dick down her throat, so her lips were pressing in my pubic hair. They were both getting turned on like crazy. The older girl fingered the other one's clit, and then grabbed my hand and pressed it down between her thighs so I could finger-fuck her wet cunt.
I wanted to get my rod up there, so I turned over on the bed and started fucking her. The other girl ran her fingers over my ass and grabbed my balls between my legs and pulled on them a little. The older girl kissed me, and I let some saliva dribble into her mouth. When I felt I was going to come, the other girl spread my ass cheeks and dipped her head in between, licking my hole, trying to stick her tongue up me! I shot off so hard I thought I was fucking going to die. I melted on top of the big-titted girl and rolled around while the other one still was kissing my asshole. I only get it on today with two women at the same time. One just doesn't make it
Bill
-I'm happy for this chance, because so often I've wanted to talk about sex, just sit down and rap with some other guy about it, but it could never be with someone I knew or worked with. I'm still too conservative for that. Sure, my wife and I tell off-color jokes at parties, and we've even seen a few X-rated movies, but to actually talk about the dreams you have, the sexy dreams where you get hard and want to beat off, that's different. I feel comfortable because I don't know you. It's easy to talk to you like this.
What's the biggest fantasy you have? I'm hung up on power, powerful women. They can't be ugly, but they don't have to be really sexy. I want to be dominated by a woman with that kind of force.
Is your wife passive? Yes. Very shy and reserved.
How vivid do your dreams become, how literal? I go through each and every moment each movement. I once saw a picture of a famous movie star riding a bicycle in Central Park, and she had on a tight sweater and pants. I pictured her riding up to a secluded part of the park and seeing me in the bushes, bare naked. She would walk over and look me up and down, lifting her big sunglasses, sneering. Then she'd order me to the ground, and I would lie there on the cold grass while she would unzip those tight pants and drop them. I would play with my cock while she started to squat, and her pussy would spread open just as if she was going to sit down on a toilet. Then her crotch would hit my face, and everything would go black and I'd be smothered in her cunt and beautiful-smelling asshole. And she would press hard and wouldn't let me up, no matter how hard I begged. That's when I usually come, when I picture that pussy coming down on my face, sitting on my nose and eyes and hair....
Does it go beyond that? How do you mean? Oh, well, I know what you mean, I think. Sometimes I've dreamed the woman pissed on me, just a little. I can hear the whole dialogue when I dream of it, how she tells me she's going to use my face as a toilet, and I beg her not to, but that's really what I want. God, I'm hard just talking about it.
Are all the women you fantasize about famous? No, just as long as they're strong. Hell, once I saw a lady cop, maybe she was a meter maid, I don't know. I stopped the car and pulled out my cock and did it right there on the street. I couldn't help it. She had long flowing light-colored hair, and her face was almost mannish-I mean, you could see the power in it. She was on a motorcycle, and I closed my eyes after I'd seen her and pretended that I was lying on that motorcycle, on the seat, and she was sitting on my head, with her uniform pants on and everything, and I was actually trying to chew my way through the material to get my tongue up her pussy. That's the best sex trip I can have, eating a woman while I beat off. My orgasms are the best when I do that, or when I dream of a woman sitting on me. Lots of times, when my wife and I are having sex, I have to think of a woman sitting on my face to get off.
Have any of these face-sitting dreams come to life? No. Well, yes, in a way. I let my wife do it sometimes, but even then I have to pretend it's some other woman. It's all in my mind. There was a day-I was working at home on a project, and my wife was out shopping and the kids were in school-and someone came to install an extension phone. Well, it was a girl. She was dressed in jeans and worked just like a guy. I watched her, and she was cute and had a great body, and when she said she had to go out and would be back in ten minutes, I started to think of her sitting on my face right there on the floor while she worked on the fucking phone! Well, all of a sudden, as I was looking out the window over my work table, I saw her climbing the telephone pole in the alley! My cock sprang up like crazy. Each time she moved, I could imagine myself as that telephone pole, and I tasted every hair of her pussy, felt every movement, licked her asshole until she screamed in pleasure. The trip was that she was doing something strong and hard and masculine. I worked my cock up and down as I watched her wrapping her legs around that pole, with all the tools hanging from her belt. When she finally came back into the apartment, I almost asked her if she would do what I wanted, if she would just press her cunt lips or her ass to my face. ... But as soon as I rationally thought of asking that, my cock went down and I was tongue-tied. I realized I don't really want it to happen. It's all in the mind. If you have the real thing, what's left to dream about?
Alex
Alex is married, thirty-four years old, the father of four boys, and works as the manager of a dry-cleaning establishment in the Midwest. When asked if his sex life was boring or stagnant, he quickly replied, "Hell no!" When asked why, he said it was because of the great fantasies he had. Asked if his wife knew of them or if they had ever shared fantasies, he replied, "She figures into most of them. If she knew, there'd be no point in having them." He has a point there.
-Betty and I will be lying in bed watching Johnny Carson, and I'll be fooling around a little, playing with her breasts, maybe going up under her nightgown with my fingers, and she tries to tell me to stop, and she giggles and says, "Shut up and watch Joan Rivers," or something like that. She always says, "Shut up," even though I'm not talking. She's the one who's giggling. So I finally get her nightgown up to her waist and go down on her pussy a little, and she moans and slides back on the bed and opens her legs to a nice V and figures to hell with the television.
Then Betty tells me she wants a banana, and I tell her she's crazy, but she insists on a banana, and finally I get up and get one out of the kitchen, checking first that one of the boys isn't up and around-I don't want any one of them seeing his old man running around with his cock at half-mast. I get the banana and hand it to Betty and dive back down between her legs to eat that luscious snatch.
"Al, baby," Betty says, and I look up to see she's peeled the banana. I ask her what she wants, and she tells me she wants me to shove the banana up her ass. I can't believe it. I ask her if she doesn't mean her cunt. No, she wants it up her ass. She says, "I want to kneel on all fours, like a dog, and I want you to slide the banana up my asshole just like it would be your cock. Then I want you to eat it as it comes out."
Man, I'm shaking, I'm so fucking excited. I shut off the damn TV as she gets into place, her long tits hanging down to the bed, her legs spread, and her hands holding her body steady. Her open cunt and asshole are right in front of me, and I first slide one finger up her bum, then two, then three, to ease her open so the banana will go in easily. I'm glad the thing isn't very ripe, or it would never work.
Finally Betty is begging for it, and I take the banana and begin to insert it in her asshole real nice and slow, sliding it in as naturally as possible, and she moans and tightens up for a second, but I tell her to relax her muscles, and she does, and finally it starts to move easily and my cock is rubbing against the inside of her thighs as I kneel there watching the fruit disappear right into my wife's asshole!
Then it's all in there, every bit of it, and her beautiful puckered hole closes. You don't even know anyone's touched it, it looks soft and natural and pink. Then she says, "Jesus, Alex, I can't stand it, I'm going to give it to you ... tickle my cunt while you eat it...." And she flexes her muscles just like she's taking a shit, and the banana starts to come out. It moves slowly at first, just a little piece of it, which I bite off and begin to chew. I can smell the inside of her anus, and it turns me on, and her cunt is wet as my fingers spread it and tickle the hard nub that turns her on. Then more comes, more than I can eat almost, and I'm chewing and sucking and licking and swallowing all at the same time, and then I can't take any more, I have to come up for breath, and I pull back and take a huge swallow, and when I do, Betty gives a hard grunt and a hunk of banana shoots out of her ass like a rocket and flies past my head and lands smack on the screen of the TV set. We both laugh, and I get my face back to her asshole to suck out the last of the mushy fruit while she brings a hand under herself and starts working on my dick, bringing off a gusher while I'm still sucking the banana turd out of her beautiful rear end.
See why I can't tell her the dreams I have?
Another one is just as kinky, if that's what you want to call it. Just as exciting, is what I would say....
We're in the same situation, lying in bed, maybe reading a book or something, a magazine for me, since I don't really like books much. I'll be drinking a beer, and the bottle is in my hand or between my legs, where I usually put it when I'm sitting watching a ballgame or something. Anyhow, the bottle is half-full, and I get an idea. I've been taking glances of Betty's dark pussy through her nightgown for the last half-hour anyhow, and my cock has been stirring. After a day of looking at people's dirty clothes, I'm usually bored enough by night that I want to have good sex. So I drop the magazine and lift Betty's nightgown, and she sighs and lets her book fall to her side.
Then I start eating her cunt, which I always do. I think I kiss her on the pussy more than I kiss her on the lips! I take a slug of beer and keep some of the cold stuff in my mouth and let it dribble over her pussy, and she squeals in excitement and begs for more, farther inside her. So I start rubbing the cold bottle between her legs, and she arches her back so all I can see is pussy, the whole room is nothing but pussy, and that bottle is my cock suddenly. I take it and push the head up into her, and she moans and begs for more, and so she comes down a bit, her body shaking but steady, and I put more of the bottle up her, and then when she drops her ass to the bed, I shove the thing as far up her snatch as I can, and all the ice-cold beer pours into her cunt like a good douche. She goes wild!
Then I flip over on my back, and she holds the bottle inside her as she positions herself over my face. "Go, baby, go, and wet me," I say, holding my cock in both hands. She pulls that fucking beer bottle out of her cunt like a cork from a bottle of cold duck, and a flood of cold and hot beer comes rushing out of her, a waterfall from her cunt, and I nearly drown in it. I start to yell, "Piss on my face, Betty! Pee on me, please!" And she closes her eyes, and when the beer stops flowing, her hot yellow piss starts to come, dribbling at first, but then rushing out in a steady, wide stream, and I'm covered with the delicious salty womanly piss, and the beer is all over my chest and running down my back on the sheet, and when it hits my asshole I come like a fucking fountain and Betty goes down on my cock and licks up all the jism, while her cunt plasters itself, full of piss and beer, to my face.
Paul
Paul is in his early thirties. He married a rich girl when he was eighteen and lived through a hellish marriage for eleven years. He has a desire to learn and is completing high school now, by correspondence.
-I drive a truck, and that's pretty boring, believe me. But the way I keep awake is to dream about seeing two broads making it with each other. I was married for a while, but it didn't work out, and now I get home at night and I'm usually too tired to go out to a bar and pick up a chick, and hookers just don't turn me on. But I'd gladly pay two chicks to have sex with each other on the bed in front of me. Even when I'm screwing a girl-I have a regular girlfriend, a divorcee I see about once a month when she comes to town to visit her mom, and we have good sex-I usually think what it would be like to see the girl I'm screwing getting it on with another chick.
I once saw a movie in a guy's basement where a guy was getting worked over by two chicks, worked over like crazy. They were sucking his balls and licking his asshole and going down on his pecker like there was no tomorrow. But then, when they were both licking up and down his prick, they started kissing, and all of a sudden they rolled over and forgot about the guy! My cock jumped up like crazy in my pants when I saw that. I couldn't fucking believe it. The chicks started kissing each other's nipples, then worked down to each other's clits, spreading their cunts as far as they could, sticking their whole goddamn faces up each other's holes. I wondered what happened to the guy, and then the camera showed him sitting in a chair beating his meat, watching the two girls, and they were damn good-looking-normal-looking chicks, too. They weren't lesbos. They were beautiful girls. It knocked me out.
So now when I see a pretty girl driving a car, I start to imagine her lying on a bed in a skirt and blouse, and another chick comes into the room and kneels on the bed, lifts the first girl's skirt, and puts her damn head right under there and starts to nibble on her pussy lips. I'm sitting in the chair in the corner, my cock out and hard, just watching as they undress each other and start to make love.
I like to think of two girls taking a dildo and working it on each other, one of those big plastic or rubber ones that looks like a real guy's cock. I see a pretty blond sucking and licking another chick's slit until she goes crazy with the desire to get fucked, and so the girl grabs this sausage of a rubber donkey dick and shoves it all the way up her. I once saw a double-headed rubber cock in a porno shop, and I've dreamed about two girls riding that thing at the same time, shoving it in and out of each other's cunts as they kissed and played with each other's tits. I can even see the juice running down their legs because they're so excited.
Then I stand at the side of the bed, and I hold my cock over them and beat it like crazy, while they're kissing and hugging and fingering each other's hot burning cunts. I see four tits, hard as rocks, nipples dark and ready to burst, like my dick, and those hands all wet and gushy with cunt honey, and their tongues lapping in and out of each other's mouths, and I cream all over them, all over their faces and they keep on kissing and moaning and slurping and licking as my come squirts between their lips....Some of it hits their hot tits, and they ram their fingers inside each other so hard they make each other come, and they both squeal and scream, and finally I collapse right on top of them because my goddamn knees give out from the excitement.
Sometimes I wish I could look down into a car at a stoplight or on the expressway and see some chick eating out another one. I think I'd crack up the fucking rig, and I've never had an accident in all the years I've been driving.
David
David is an intelligent married man. President of his own public-relations firm, he has few worries in the world, and says his fantasy life takes up a good deal of his time. He laughed and said he could afford it.
-When I was about nineteen or twenty, I was standing in the lobby of a Broadway theater before the doors opened. The place was packed and we were all pressed against each other. All of a sudden I felt a hand reaching down, against my leg, searching for my cock! I couldn't believe it! I was with my steady girlfriend and I knew it wasn't her; we hardly ever touched each other except when kissing good night (I wasn't very sexually liberated at the time, and neither was she). I tried not to blush, but I felt the hand start to massage my cock, and I started getting hard, of course. I wear boxer shorts, so I couldn't help but let it crawl along the inside of my leg. I looked around, trying to find out who was doing it. We were packed in that lobby like sardines, and I was afraid it was a guy. I don't put down homosexuals, but I always ran when guys made passes at me.
Well, it turned out to be a woman standing next to my girl, who was with her husband. She looked very wealthy and was maybe in her forties or so. Lots of makeup, you know the kind, a limousine probably brought them to the theater. But there she was, carrying on a conversation with her husband, rubbing my cock with her hand. I couldn't stand it, the fact that no one knew what was going on, two total strangers having sex right there in the middle of all those people! Thank Christ they opened the doors. I almost came in my pants, and that would have been hard to explain.
But that's led to the best fantasy I have, or, I should say, the only one that really makes me excited. I dream about doing it, sucking, fucking, feeling, in strange places, where people don't know. I remember the scene in I Am Curious, Yellow where the guy fucks the girl on the balustrade of the palace and people walk past and don't know what they're doing because they're wearing raincoats. I came watching that sequence. I swear.
I dream of fucking a beautiful chick in a phone booth, just opening my zipper and letting her lift her skirt under her coat, slipping my dick into her as we pretend to talk on the phone. Or we're doing it in a dressing room at a department store or something like that. I always like to imagine being in a bar, standing at the bar, and having a girl suck me off down on her knees while I'm carrying on a conversation with the bartender. Or at a big party, sitting on the couch in the living room with some cute chick with a short skirt on my lap. No one knows that while we talk and giggle and drink, my cock is stuffed up her asshole!
But most super of all is doing it on the subway. At rush hour. I press up against a woman, and she starts to rub my cock, and then she slowly pulls the zipper down and puts her hand inside my pants. If it's winter, it's even better, because her hands are cold and I get the chills up my ass. Then she works on me and I come just as we pull into my station and I walk down the street, in the freezing cold wind, with the hot come drying against my leg. I think of that on the subway all the time, and by the time I get to the apartment, I'm usually so fucking turned on that I fuck my wife the minute she opens the door-which is great, because she's a nymphomaniac anyway!
Martin
Martin is a black man in his thirties. He works for the postal service and says his best fantasy is "seeing the mail moving faster." His second best fantasy is this:
-I've never been with two women at the same time. I don't know how to get it to happen, but it happens every night when I get into bed. It's so clear, I really believe it's true. There is a knock at the door, and two beautiful girls are standing there, in the cold, telling me their car broke down and they're on their way home from college for the weekend. They want to use the phone to call a gas station. I tell them there's only one station open all night near here, and I call for them but tell the guy to wait an hour before he comes to help them. Then I make some coffee with rum to warm them and invite them to take off their wet clothes. They brush the snow out of their hair and take off-their coats and shoes.
Then we go into the bedroom, and they sit on the bed. I'm in my shorts, just like I was when I answered the door, and I see them eyeing my crotch. I lean back and start fingering myself and ask them if they'd like to see it. One of the girls seems almost embarrassed, but the other smiles and says yes.
So I pull out my dick, and they both moan and start to stroke it and pet it. One of them pulls my shorts down to my ankles, then off my feet, while the other one takes the tip of my cock into her lips. Then, as I spread my legs wide, the other girl starts to lick my balls like she's lapping a big sucker. As the first one starts to deep-throat me, the other girl slides her tongue down into my ass hairs and tickles my butt-hole. Then I reach out and pull up the first girl's sweater and grab hold of her tits, feeling the rocky-hard nipples, and she begs me to fuck her as she hugs my cock next to her rosy-pink cheek.
She strips nude, and her tits are bigger than they felt, and her pussy is covered with a forest of dark hair, and I mount her fast and hard and she takes it like a pro, while the other one licks at my asshole and balls as they flop up and down while I slam my rod into her girlfriend.
I flip over onto my back, my cock still up the first girl, and she sits up and spins around on me, like a top, my cock screwing around and around in her cunt. The second girl undresses, and her cunt hair is as blond as the hairs on her head and she kneels above my face and lets me look up her pussy, all the way up as she spreads the outer lips with her fingers, and I see her hard clit and tell her to give it to me....
I tickle it with my tongue and wiggle it around, and she gets all gushy and comes down hard on my face. I reach up and feel all four breasts as the girls hold on to each other, one with her cunt clamped over my cock, the other with her cunt clamped over my face. Then I tell them to kiss, and when they do, their bodies are filled with electricity and I can feel both of them coming and I start to pump up hard and fast into the dark girl, and I feel my orgasm rushing. I tell the blond to get down there and lick my balls again, to lap up all the cream that slides out of the other girl's pussy.
And then I come, like gunfire. The dark girl howls with pain and pleasure as she feels the hard spurts of hot sperm into her pussy, and the blond moans when the come starts to squish out of the girl's pussy lips and gushes down my cock shaft and nuts. She licks it up, her whole face covered with come and pussy juice, and finally, when the girl on top of me pulls off, the blond takes my dick in her mouth and sucks the last few drops of come out of it until it gets soft, and even then she won't let go. We have to pull her off when the guy from the gas station comes.
Sometimes I even include him. He opens the door and sees two beautiful naked girls, and in a second they have his pants down to the floor and the blond is sucking him off as the dark one comes back to me for another good fucking.
That's the great thing about dreams-they can go on forever, or you can cut them off just where you want them to end.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Potpourri
Here is a group of fantasies-along with some "quickies"-that encompass all aspects of sex and sexual desire. How many of them are like your own?
Thomas
Thomas is forty-seven and works for an airline. He said he found his fantasies to be guilt-ridden until he acted some of them out. Once he tried the things he'd dreamed of doing while masturbating, he felt liberated and happier. He stated that a blending of one's fantasies with your real experience is the ultimate way to live. There is much to be said for that, but sometimes it just can't be that way. For a starter, you can't be sure what does such great things to you in fantasy is going to do the same in real life; acting out a fantasy assumes a certain amount of risk, and no insurance covers it. Some men (though very few) told me, after they'd talked about their fantasy with me, that they were sorry they had done it The excitement was gone, they said, because the "secret" had been taken from thoughts. Another caution is that some fantasies are pretty horrible when thought of in realistic terms, and to act them out may really go against the grain of your personality. Not to mention that they can be against the law. Thus, most men having strong S&M fantasies will find little or no need to experience or inflict pain in their real lives. They'd rather think about it than do it.
Some men, however, do find the happy medium-why act out all your fantasies; what is left when you do?-and balance their real lives by trying variations of their best secret thoughts. Not enough to ruin the fantasy the next time they want to beat off. Enough to add dimension and a new thrill to their sex life. A merging of fantasy and reality can produce wonders for the person who can handle it. Your success at it depends only on you and where your head is at; only you can be the judge of what to act out, and when, where, and how to do it. Moviemakers win Oscars each year for blending fantasy and reality. Why shouldn't you win the bedroom Oscar this year?
Thomas says he's won one each year for a hell of a long time. He gave me two fantasies, two quite different fantasies. I asked which of the two was the more stimulating. It was a toss-up, he replied. Both gave him an erection; acting out some of each made his real sex life better. What's most interesting here, I think, and valuable, is that two such opposite dreams come from the same man.
-You have a girlfriend. She tells you about being with another lover. Not to make you jealous. To turn you on. Here's what I mean:
I come home from work on a Friday and I'm tired. I shower and shave and feel cool and relaxed. Jeanne comes in the door and looks like she's been through the war. Her blouse is torn a little. I can tell she's been sucking cock because her lips are red and irritated. She looks hot and horny. I grab her, push her back on the bed, and reach up under her skirt, and her pussy is as wet as can be. I ask her what the hell she's been doing.
She tells me the truth. She's been seeing Tony, the dark-haired guy who lives down the street. I helped him work on his car one afternoon and introduced Jeanne to him. So my old lady is fucking him. I feel so fucking mad I could kill her, but she kisses me and moans that she loves me more than anyone. Then she starts to tell me about Tony. About what they did together. And I lie there. My cock starts getting hard. I'm not mad anymore, I'm excited. She goes into detail how he took her clothes off on the floor of his apartment and how she put her head on his cock through his jeans. But she stops after saying, "We made it together then."
I tell her I want to know all of it, in detail. I want to know how big his cock is and if she took his come in her throat. I want to know just how he fucked her, how did he do it. I imagine him behind her, dog-style. I see him fucking her until he's ready to come and then making her suck his jism with her mouth. My mind is racing so fast I hardly give her time to tell the story.
She sees what's happening. She starts stroking me as she tells it. She licked his cock through his jeans till it got all creamy. Then he unfastened the metal buttons and it popped up. She started to run her fingers up and down it. It was bigger than even I thought. Nine inches, and so thick she couldn't get her hand around it. He wanted her to suck him but she was afraid she'd never get it down her throat. He shoved her head down, and the tip of the big dick slid right down by her tonsils. Her nose was buried in his sweaty hot pubic hair. The thought of my old lady going down on Tony, lying there on the floor of his apartment with his jeans still fastened, makes me shoot off. I come and Jeanne licks all of it off my belly and tells me it tastes so much sweeter than his.
We have something to eat, and she tries it again, telling me about Tony to turn me on, and I get another roaring hard-on. He didn't do what I thought, he didn't fuck her dog-style. He went one better. He fucked her in the ass. He got out a can of Crisco and stuck the head of his dick in it and slid up her standing up. Then he lifted her in the air and carried her around the room. He set her down on the couch and fucked her until she screamed with pain. Finally he pulled out of her, and she washed his cock off in the bathroom. He went down on her when she sat on the toilet, sticking his bearded face into her pussy. She came like crazy. He was beating off. Then he stood up and shoved his cock in her mouth again. She sucked and sucked as he sawed into her, fucking her face, saying things like, "I'm better than that old man of yours, right?" Her mouth got all red, and she started crying. She thought the pounding would never stop. His balls slapped against her chin. Finally he let go with a drenching amount of jism. He pulled his cock out of her mouth and shot off all over her face. I came again when she told me that.
Wow, I'm hard just telling it to you. I always vary it a little. The way I connected with my real sex life is, I once asked Jeanne to tell me about a guy she had gone to bed with before she met me, in detail. She did, and the jealousy I began to feel turned to lust. I fucked her just the way she described him fucking her. She realized I got off on that. So, a month or so ago she told me she'd been having an affair. I got insane for about an hour and finally settled down. 'Tell me about it," I said. She said she'd been seeing another chick. I fell to the ground I Nothing turned me on more than to hear her describe making love to Patti, the girl she'd been seeing. It was too incredible to believe, because I know Patti and have wanted to fuck her for over a year, since the first time I met her. I want to fuck Patti, and Jeanne is fucking Patti, so when I listen to what they do, I see myself doing that to Patti. Complicated but good.
And as for Tony, I have a secret desire to have him sleep with Jeanne, just so she could really tell me about it. More than anything, I'd like to share her with him, but that gets into more reality than I'm ready to handle, so we'll just quit right there.
I asked Thomas about being bisexual-isnt that what he meant when he said it was more than he was ready to handle? He admitted to having wanted to have Tony participate in sex with Jeanne because he himself felt some kind of attraction to the man. Thomas said, "If Jeanne can be bisexual, why can't I?" Only he can answer that question-and he will, in time. For now, I didn't list this in "Bisexual Fantasies" because, as of this writing, Thomas has not had sex with another man, and though his fantasy borders on being bisexual, he is still very straight. His second fantasy is firmly heterosexual, but much different from the first.
-The other best fantasy I have is about World War II. I'm a sailor in a strange North African port. I've heard all the stories aboard ship about the sex and drugs and exotica for sale, but I had no idea it would be like this-doorways in winding alleyways, little girls for sale, standing there lifting their skirts ... women showing a tit ... women sitting on old crates, their legs spread ... a group of naked girls standing in a dark corner, passing around a pipe, everyone high. I get a hard-on as I wander through the streets. Hands reach out and rub my prick. Someone pinches my ass. A woman jumps out from behind a cart of vegetables and kisses me hard on the lips. My hard cock burns into her pussy through the flimsy material of her dress. It is all very strange and exotic. I smell urine in the hallways, mixed with perfume. Incense burning, along with burning cunts. I'm going crazy moving up and down the streets. I'm sweating. You can see my cock plainly through my wet white pants. I see a teenage girl squatting to take a piss. I watch her and nearly come as she wipes her pussy with her fingers and then licks them dry. I try to walk, and find myself falling against walls. I want one of them-maybe ten of them-I have the money and I'm ready to fuck the night away. I see many women I want. A big-breasted beauty, an Amazon, stands rubbing her crotch. Her mouth is made for cocksucking. I see a young girl who is showing me her sweet cunt. She is just beginning to grow hair there. She looks like a virgin, although I know she's not. I see twins, two young women with dark hair and chestnuts for eyes. I know I could please them both at the same time. I want all of them; I want to be fucking all of them at once. I can come for all of them! I say to myself, I need to fuck, I need to fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck....
My head is spinning, and I'm afraid I'm going to collapse. There they all are, mine for the picking. What I can't get past is a question that makes my head throb: Which one of them has a knife behind her back?
I finally fall against a building and feel myself coming in my pants as everything goes black. I awake, and my clothing is gone, my money, everything. I'm naked. There's come on my balls. But I'm alive.
Peter
Peter is a thirty-year-old gardener in Beverly Hills.
-I'm a sailor on leave in Amsterdam. I don't know why I pick that city. I guess 'cause I heard so much about it from a buddy who went there. Government whorehouses. Any sex you want, right there for the asking. And I like the idea of being dressed like a sailor. When I was a kid I had a sailor suit. It got me turned on. I used to wear it when I was in my teens. It didn't fit then; it was real tight. I used to beat off wearing that thing. I was never in the service 'cause I don't believe in killing. But I'd like to be a sailor in Amsterdam.
I'm walking along a whores' street in my white bell-bottoms. I pick a girl out of the crowd. She's small, slim. She's got long blond hair down to her ass. We go up to her room, and I take off my shirt but not my pants. I want her to pull them down, to play with my dick when she's taking them off. Hell, I'd really like to fuck her with the pants down around my ankles. She strips and spreads. She's beautiful. I climb on top of her and sink my cock into her. She tells me it's big. She loves it. And she isn't faking. I'm slamming my hips down into hers. I'm kneeling between her legs. The pants are ripping apart, 'cause I'm trying to spread my legs and let my balls move. I'm fucking her like crazy, and I'm ready to come when I look up. The curtain is open. Everyone in the whorehouse across the street is watching us. Women and men, all of them playing with themselves. I get mad for a second and jump up. I'm gonna close the curtains. But the girl says to leave them the way they are. She says, "Let's show them a few things." So she jumps down in front of me. She starts to suck my dick, and I look out the window. Everyone is applauding. I'm fucking going outta my mind! I come such a load of jism that she chokes on it.
Would you believe it if I told you I wanna star in a porno film?
Benny
Exotic settings offer a sense of sexual intrigue, as both Thomas and Peter have shown us. Often, not only place is important to a fantasy, but time as well. Benny likes to see himself and his wife, Lois, as historical characters. He and Lois come from a background in the theater, which probably accounts for his dramatic sense, for the production aspects of his fantasy. I was astonished how similar this fantasy was to that of Richard in Chapter 4 of this section.
-Lois and I get into costumed bits. We act out people and places, we do real "scenes," and end up fucking like rabbits. For instance, we'll do a King Arthur fantasy, where I'll dress like Arthur and she'll be Guinevere. We tried it the other way around once, but it didn't work. I looked shitty in a dress. But then, so does Lois. Oh, well, you can't be Guinevere in a pantsuit.
Guinevere will sit in a big chair-our Mediterranean furniture works perfectly here-and I'll tell her I've just returned from welcoming Lancelot to Camelot. She'll berate me and tell me she wants to sleep with him, and I warn her not to. She commands me to kneel in front of her. Then she pulls up her skirt and shows me her beautiful pussy. She tells me she will give it to Lancelot if I don't crawl to her and lick it. So I do, and she spreads her legs wide as I work my tongue up her cunt. My cock is hard and sticking out of my tights. She orders me to masturbate all over her breasts, which she pulls out of the heavy dress she's wearing. When I come, we have the lights set up so one of us just hits a button with our foot and the room goes dark. It's a great way to come. And a great way to end the fantasy.
We do all kinds of variations. I'm a Greek slave and she is a rich woman from Athens. She buys me and drags me home with a rope around my neck. She washes me and then takes me to bed. The way we do this one is, we start at the market She comes up to me and buys me. Then in the car she puts a rope around my neck and dresses me in a little white tunic. When we get home she gets into a long white dress with gold trim. She strips me and puts me in the tub. Then she pours all kinds of oils in and washes me with a natural sponge. All the time she plays with my cock. She finally makes me come in the water, and she rubs my come all over my body. Then she dries me with a fluffy white towel and takes me into the bedroom.
We have a "Greek" bedroom, with statues and marble tables and all. This fits the fantasy perfectly. She orders me to fuck her in different positions and to tell her what it was like having sex with all the slave girls. She is high-bred and has never had a slave in her bed before. She likes to hear dirty talk. I say "fuck" a lot, and "cocksucker" is used too. I talk about the girls who were good cocksuckers. She wants to be as good. So I teach her how.
We do futuristic scenes, too. In a play I worked on, a guy and girl had to be body-painted with silver. I brought the leftover can home. Lois and I painted ourselves all over. My silver cock was so beautiful, I had her take a picture of it. It fit right into her silver-haired cunt. We pretended we were living on another planet and I was Buck Rogers or Flash Gordon. Once we fucked in a futuristic way, by sitting across the room from each other and just pressing our genitals until we came. It was all in our minds. Sex was really on an electric level between us. We weren't masturbating. We were just pressing. I creamed in my hands at the same moment Lois came, and her hands got all wet.
Sometimes we do scenes from plays and change them. We will do A Streetcar Named Desire, and Lois will be Blanche yelling at me (Stanley), and all of a sudden we're fucking. We keep our New Orleans accents through the whole thing. We did Hello, Dolly! once. We were at Lois' parents' house. They have a big staircase. No one was home but us. We put the record on the stereo, and she came down the stairs in a Dolly-like dress, her skirt-lifted to her waist. I was a waiter, and I kept grabbing feels as I danced by her.
Next week we're going to do The Wiz. Lois is going to be Dorothy and I'll be the Tin Man. I'll sing about needing some oil, and she can put Vaseline on my cock, and then I'll fuck her. Our carpet in the living room is gold, so we can pretend it's the Yellow Brick Road.
Quickies
The following weren't able to answer in detail-mainly because we were on a public street or in a building where we couldn't really talk about graphic sex. Often when I met someone, I mentioned the book I was working on and asked, right off, "What's your best fantasy?" Usually they were so stunned to be asked, they replied quickly. They didn't have time to make one up or find which one was the best. The reaction was nearly automatic.
The men listed here had the chance to reply in only a few sentences. Some of the questions were asked on the street, in bars, in supermarkets, even in a men's room at the Los Angeles Music Center between acts of a play. The guy selling stamps at the post office answered my query, and so did the kid pumping low-lead fuel into my car. In other words, a good crosscut of the average male population.
-I can look, but I can't fuck. You know, something keeps you from being able to touch her. Like that invisible shield they used to have for toothpaste. You can see all the way up her as she pulls the lips apart, you know what I mean? But you can't touch her. Drives me nuts.
-I like to dream of having sex with a girl, and if I come, I get punished. She makes me go on and on for hours, but I can't come. If I do, she will give me a strict punishment.
-Captured for scientific experiments! By a bunch of lady scientists. Guess what part of me they want to experiment on?
-Balling a mother and daughter at the same time.
-I dream of buying an old confessional for my house, from a church they're tearing down. I would stick my cock through the little opening and let my girl suck me off that way.
-A Mutiny on the Bounty fantasy. I lead all the shipmen to mutiny, and we go to a tropical island where naked women are more plentiful than the palm trees.
-The Great Gatsby. Who wouldn't want to fuck Daisy?
-Getting done by the U.S. Women's Olympic swimming team.
-Carrying out the trash one morning and seeing the broad next door out there in her little nightie. I slam a fast one into her right there between the buildings and get back to the house so my wife can serve breakfast.
-I pretend I'm a movie star. Some girl comes to interview me at home. I'm wearing only my undershorts, and she's all nervous. While we talk into the tape recorder, I beat off under the table. She knows what I'm doing, and she's horrified. But she can't bring herself to mention it.
-Having a chick suck me off through my jock strap.
-Getting caught in the elevator with three girls. One has big tits. Another has a beautiful ass. The other likes to use her mouth. You figure it out.
-I dream of having a girlfriend. She is going out for the evening with an old boyfriend. I know they'll fuck. She knows I know. So she sucks me off before she leaves, gives me a nice good blow-job. She comes home late and wakes me. Her sexy evening wasn't so sexy. He was a dud. Faithful to his new wife or something. Because she didn't get laid, she's horny. So she sucks me off a second time. I hope she has more boyfriends lining up!
-Standing up while fucking in a maze of mirrors. If they're positioned right, you can see yourself fucking into infinity.
-Dreaming about a woman lifting her skirt in a public place and showing me her pussy for a fast second is my wildest fantasy.
-Why are guys always called exhibitionists? I see this broad in the window across the street every day, just having a good old time with a big vibrator in her bung-hole, for all the world to see. Whenever I see a pretty girl, I dream about her exposing her body in a window so I can watch and play with my cock.
-I guess seeing naked breasts is no big deal these days. I mean, chicks go naked on beaches and all. But I find myself getting excited when I think about a woman who is dressed very elegantly, in an evening gown or something like that, losing a tit. Having it drop out, I mean. I would like to see a woman bend over at a banquet and have her left tit fall out. I'm a breast man.
-I think about being invisible so I can walk around in women's bedrooms without them seeing me and stare at their tits and cunts, and watch them making love.
-I was the youngest of six children and always the smallest in my class. My parents hovered over me and never let me do anything that might hurt me. I was a sickly child. Now I pretend that I'm a strong man in a circus, and I fuck all the freaks. I especially like to think about Bertha, the fat lady. She weighs 550 pounds, and when she sucks my dick, it feels as if it's going to be pulled off.
-Nothing I've ever done sexually with anyone lives up to my fantasies. If I'm with a girl who likes to be tied up while being balled, I find myself wanting a girl who also wants to be whipped and ass-fucked. If a girl sucks me off, I find myself wanting to squirt my jism all over her face rather than let her swallow it. I have long dreamed of eating peanut butter out of a girl's snatch. Finally, I did it It took a lot of coaxing, but she was stoned on her ass and finally gave in. Well, it wasn't as good as I had seen it in my mind, because we were in the bedroom and I had always fantasized it being done on the kitchen counter, right next to the sink. Shit Imagination is so much better than reality.
-I was once treated to a very unusual bit of entertain-men at a party. A woman masturbated her cat with a cotton swab. I was amused by this, I imagine, but also a bit put off that we had to sit around and witness this for nearly an hour. However, when I arrived home, I tried it with my ass. If you wet it with your tongue and twist it slowly, it gives the most delightful sensation when you masturbate.
-I hate my sister's guts. She is three years older than me, twenty-six, and thinks she's hot shit. She's an uptight virgin who looks like Raquel Welch, unfortunately, so everyone thinks she's very sexually with it. I'd like to see a line of ten or twenty football players line up, all black guys with enormous dicks, and fuck the living shit out of her. Then, after her cunt was filled with all that black jism, I would stick my cock into her and finish her off.
-I love someone in my family, my sister. I mean love-I dream about making love to her, dream about having intercourse with her. It started when she was in high school and I was still in grade school. She used to let me watch her taking a shower, and I would get an erection and she would pump me off with her hand. When I was old enough to come, she would do it and let me shoot into her mouth, though she never really gave me a blow-job all the way. When she met Bill and married him, I was destroyed. I held her underwear and cried that night. I knew he was fucking her, and it wasn't right. It was supposed to be me. Now I dream of tying Bill up and making him watch as I stick my cock into his wife. I would have to do it that way, because he would stop me from fucking her. After all, she is his wife and my sister. But I love her. I beat my meat dreaming of fucking her. God, I want to fuck her, just once!
-I dress up in my teenage daughter's clothing and parade around the house. This always gives me an erection. I like to feel my hard penis in her silk panties. My wife caught me once and put me over her lap and paddled the daylights out of me.
-Melt chocolate chips or any chocolate candy on the stove in a pan and let it cool a bit. Then when it is cool enough, stick your dick into it and rub it all over your organ. It feels great. Then call your wife in from the other room and tell her you have a chocolate bar for her to eat. She'll love the taste and you'll love the feeling.
-My fantasy is always the same. I'm playing with my penis, and I push it so far back in the foreskin, it starts to look like a cunt. Maybe I want to be a woman.
-Masturbating a dog is always on my mind. I think about playing with the dog's organ, and then he comes, and it's very watery. I have him lick my prick until I come, and then he licks it clean.
I also think about putting my prick into a milk bottle. I've tried to suck myself, but I can't do it. Maybe with enough practice, I'll be able to. I try to think how I would feel if I were a girl, and I think about wearing my mom's tight girdle or her bra.
-I'd like to have my wife put a collar on my neck and make me crawl around the floor and bark. I'd never be able to tell her this fantasy, because it would horrify her. She gives our fuckin' dog more affection than she gives me.
-I think about my wife tied up in a chair. A man is just ready to rape her, and I jump into the room through a window and rescue her. I knock out the man, and my wife says I can do anything I want to her. I keep her tied in the chair, and I suck on her tits, sitting in her lap, and stick my finger up her cunt. She squirms because she's so excited, but I don't untie her. When the man comes to, I let him play with her too, while I stick my finger up his ass.
He shoves his cock in her mouth, instead of a gag, and she sucks him off. I stand behind him and stuff my cock up his ass while she's sucking him. After we all come, the man thanks us and leaves.
-I walk into a room, my own front room, I think, and my wife is on the couch undressed, lying on top of someone. I go to pull her off, and I see she's lying on top of another woman. She's sucking the woman's tit, and the woman has her fingers up my wife's cunt. I sit down on the coffee table and I watch them. They eat each other, and shove cucumbers into each other's cunts. I take out my dick and play with it, and then I come all over them. They make me lick them both clean, while my wife puts, the cucumber from her cunt into my asshole.
Drugs
Some of the quickie answers included mention of drugs. I'm not going to list the replies that said they liked to be stoned on grass when having sex; that answer was as common as having had a few drinks before fucking. The others are more interesting anyway. By my listing these, am I advocating the use of these drugs when having sex? No, I'm not that crazy.
I will say I advocate using anything in your dreams-any drug you want-for it represents no harm to your physical person in any form. In real life, well, what you do is your business, and what you choose to use to enhance your orgasm is up to you. I'll note one thing: many men, particularly young men who had done the "drug scene" at one time, mentioned that most drugs harder than grass (cocaine, heroin, morphine, etc.) tend to make a man impotent
-Downers, man. You ever fuck on Valium? Quaaludes? Jesus, you come and come and come, and you don't come down from it for years.
-Coke on the end of my dick. I can fuck forever. The chick sucking my dick gets higher than a kite. What a way to sniff, sticking a hard dick up your nose!
-My fantasy is, I've never had drugs in my life, and suddenly a girl meets me, takes me to her apartment and fills me full of uppers and booze. We suck and fuck faster than humanly possible. My cock shoots across the room and hits the window.
-Poppers. [Poppers is another word for amyl nitrite.] I have really used them only twice. A gay friend of mine told me he sniffed poppers when he was getting fucked by his lover, and they both got a marvelous rush out of it. I tried it with Becky, my chick. We went crazy. I don't know how to describe it. I thought an earthquake hit when we started coming. I swear the whole house was shaking. Every sexy dream I've ever had has been changed to include poppers. I'm gonna try them the next time I'm jerking off.
-I dream about going to bed with a girl that's really strung out on drugs. I don't know why. Maybe because all the women I know are very uptight. I want to know some real sluts. You know any?
-Wow, I just lie back and drop a quaalude and dream about starfucking....
Which brings us to another category of quickies.
Starfucking
Many women, when asked whom they think of when masturbating or having sexual intercourse, reply Burt Reynolds, Robert Redford, Paul Newman, etc. Stars have always been the subject of sexual fantasies and wishes, and such dreams are not unique to women. When polled, numerous men named what personality popped into their minds when sexually excited. A random few:
-Jane Fonda. The early Jane Fonda, before she became the hard-nosed political bore she is now. I mean the Jane Fonda that sucked on that saxophone in the picture Hurry, Sundown. I can see her moving her lips over that thing over the tip. I see it as my prick.
-I see Billie Jean King playing tennis bare naked.
-Raquel Welch. And Marilyn Chambers. Together. If I had a million bucks, I'd pay them to do a ten-minute film for me. They could do anything they wanted-to met
-That model, what's-her-name, um ... Lauren Hutton. I dream of her posing for a real high-class magazine cover, and while they are taking a picture of her face, she's sitting on my cock, which is up inside her belly someplace.
-Annette Funicello. Since the old Mickey Mouse Club has started being rerun, I beat off watching her. That dark sexuality of that innocent early teenage period ... wow!
-I'm fucking Eva Gabor on the floor of some posh Beverly Hills restaurant. Everybody in the place is watching. She came up and said, "Dahling, I vant you to fahk me!" Her long skirt is up around her neck. And Zsa Zsa is there, and she's jealous, so she hikes up her skirt and pulls off her silk panties and lets me eat her as I fuck Eva.
-I'm a sucker for current singing stars. I had a thing for Karen Carpenter until a buddy told me she was really Richard Carpenter in drag, that their whole act is done with mirrors. That killed that fixation. Right now I'm into Olivia Newton-John. I mean I'd like to be into her, all the way into her.
-I'd give my balls to slip it into Dinah Shore for just ten minutes. I have a sneaky feeling that she's probably the sexiest woman in the world and the best lay since Cleopatra.
-Elizabeth Taylor. She's the most beautiful woman in the world, has the most beautiful pair of jugs in the world, and even though a thousand cocks have been in her cunt, I think it must be one hell of a prize corridor.
-I imagine Faye Dunaway giving me head. It's the only way I can get off. At least this month.
-I watch TV all the time, and sometimes I'll play with myself while a show's on because I feel as though I'm being watched. I think of Mary Tyler Moore coming into the newsroom, and I wave my dick at her. Or there's a movie with Ava Gardner on, and when there's a close-up, I'll press my dick against the screen and tell her to suck it. Sometimes I even turn the sound off and make up my own dialogue. One time I shot off all over Sally Struthers' face.
-Ann-Margret. She's a living sexual fantasy!
-There was a fantastic love scene in Don't Look Now, a movie which no one I talk to seems to have heard of, where Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland make passionate love, and you really believe they're fucking. It was a terrific turn-on for me when I saw it, and since then I've put myself into Sutherland's role and I'm at a point now where I think I know every curve and crevice of Julie Christie's body. I wrap my hand around my cock, and I swear I'm inside her hot cunt.
-I'd like to fuck Doris Day and Peggy Lee. In that order.
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PART TWO
HOMOSEXUAL FANTASIES
CHAPTER ONE
Gay Dreaming
The subject matter of homosexual fantasies is as diverse as heterosexual dreaming. From romantic sex scenes of tenderness to hard sadomasochistic scenarios, gay fantasizing is just as sane, just as crazy, just an outrageous, and just as perfectly normal as its straight counterpart.
Share some dreams of gay men.
Howard
Howard works in a bank in Hollywood. He's twenty-six, lives with his lover in a house in the Hollywood Hills, and says fantasizing keeps him from being overly promiscuous.
-You know those lamps, angle lamps I think they call them? The kind that light up just a tiny section of the room and leave the rest dark? Well, I picture one of those on in a bedroom, in a house where a big party is going on. I wander into the bedroom and close the door. It is very dark, and I can't really tell if there are many people in there. I know somebody's in there, because I had seen a guy walking into the room the minute before. That's what gave me the idea to go in there.
All of the sudden someone clicks on an angle light, way off in the corner of the room. It-the small beam of light-hits the brown-velvet chair in the corner. Someone sits down in the chair. He's wearing tight Levi's and a big belt, and you can make out a nice thick basket. I'm suddenly aware of lots of other guys in the room because I hear zippers opening and hands beginning to slide back and forth on cocks. I walk closer to the angle light, and I feel someone grab a feel of my ass. I feel shivers going through me. There must be fifty guys in this room, and I can't see any one of them except for the guy under the angle light.
He unzips his heavy zipper. You can see his cock already bulging out of the fly. Then he opens the belt and yanks the jeans down to his knees. His cock jumps out, pointing straight up at the light. His balls are huge, covered with hair. They rest on the velvet cushion as he spreads his legs. His pants drop down out of the light. He lifts his T-shirt and slides his ass forward a bit. I'm almost coming, I'm so excited.
All of a sudden a beautiful blond boy's face appears under the angle light. I remember seeing him earlier at the party and thinking how much I'd like to get it on with him. Well, he takes the stud's cock down his throat, all of it, and massages his big balls with his soft hands. We're all watching. The temperature in the room must be a hundred degrees now, with all of us so excited and sweating. The young blond-haired boy never lets that cock out of his mouth until the stud comes, and even then he still sucks it until it gets soft.
It goes on like that, one person after another, sitting in the chair, and the blond-haired boy sucks them until he drinks their semen. He does about fifteen guys, and then it's my turn. I sit down. My pants are already off. I dropped them fifteen minutes before. I spread my legs over the arms of the chair so he can slide a finger up my ass as he sucks me off. I look into his eyes under the light. He can't see my face, but I can see his. He looks so innocent and pure, like he's about seventeen years old and goes to a private school and has never touched a cock other than his own in his life. Then he goes down on me with a grin and takes my load, sucking me like nobody's ever sucked me in my life. He drills his big finger all the way up my asshole and licks the come all off my balls when he finally lets go of my cock.
The greatest thing about the scene is that no one's face is ever seen. It's completely anonymous except for the beautiful blond cherub. Just picturing him smiling with my come running down from the corner of his mouth makes me hard.
Scott
Scott runs Scotty's Tree Service in Oregon. He's thirty, was married until he realized he was gay, and says he and his former wife are now the best of friends. He lives alone, spends most of his free time in gay bars, and goes camping in Canada once a month. Scotty's big six-foot-two frame and long blond hair make him look like a young Paul Bunyan. I asked him if he fantasized often, and he replied, "What else do you do alone up in the mountains?" I suppose he has a point there. Some of his mountain fantasies:
-I think about lots of things. I don't go much for real stories. Fast thoughts, and I concentrate on them for a long time. Like I think of a pillow sitting on the floor of a John along the highway. In one of them rest areas. I wonder: Why the pillow next to the urinal? I piss and go outside and relax for a while. Driving can get you tired. Soon enough, this good-looking hunky guy cruises me and goes into the toilet. I follow him. I'm not gonna turn down a good fast fuck. Well, he's kneeling on the pillow. He says, "Can I suck your cock?" and I say "You sure as hell can, man," and I stand there and give it to him. Other guys come in to take a piss, and they end up watching and beating off.
One time I was lying out in my sleeping bag. I usually sleep in the camper, but the night was great. I started thinking a hunk was sleeping in a bag near me, and we gave each other the eye. We got outta our bags, and we're both in our BVD's. He says "Do you wanna switch?" and I nod and we take off our shorts and put on each other's. His feel warm and tight. I get a fucking hard-on fast. Then we get into a sixty-nine, and we suck each other off through each other's underwear.
Sometimes I have a young guy in my dreams that does anything I want. I'm kneeling on the floor of the camper, and I beat off and I make him lick it off the floor. Or out in the sun, after a swim up in a little lake in Manitoba, I whip out my dick and beat off on the hood of the camper. I make the kid lick it off the hot metal of the hood. He loves it. Or come into his cupped hands and tell him to wash his face with my cream. Things like that.
More than all that, though, I think of sleeping with a guy out under the stars. No one certain-I mean, no one I know. A guy I meet and fall for, you know? Someone with a pack on his back coming through the trees. We would talk and build a fire and sit by it and have some food and then take off our clothes and lie out there and count the stars with our cocks rubbing against each other. We'd kiss and roll around, off the blankets and onto the leaves and grass, getting dirty, but we don't mind. I'd like to kiss him and then take his beautiful dick in my lips and make him come. I would he back and listen to the sounds of animals answering us when we're yelling and making noise. He would suck my cock and drink all my sperm. Then I would turn him over and fuck him, and he would start to cry and turn his head, and when he kisses me I come in his ass and I roll over and we fall asleep like that, naked out there in the night. I'd like to be in love like that.
Billy
In Billy's favorite fantasy, we go from the mountains to the beach. It is fitting-he lives in Aspen, Colorado, and has never been to California. He's twenty-two and works in his parents' restaurant.
-I meet so many people up here who are from California. I have dreams of Malibu and making love with some surfer who comes out of the water and falls down at my feet My older brother (who is also gay) used to play Beach Boys records all the time and talk about the way people slept on the beaches of California. I just want to make love on a beach. I want to hear the surf crashing behind me as I'm kissing a muscular surfer who smells like saltwater and man. I'd like to feel sand on my cock and between my ass as we roll over and over, fucking. One of these days I'm going to just pack up and head for the Pacific Ocean.
Coye
Coye is a young actor. He's from California, but his fantasy has nothing to do with the beaches.
-I'm not addicted to cars, but I love the freeways. Not as a driver. As a passenger. I'm a professional hitchhiker. You know, that's the best way to have sex. I've met the best numbers by standing on the corner of a ramp and holding my thumb in the air. Sometimes I'd like to hold my cock in the air! You get in the car, and the guy says, "Where are you going?"
"Oh, no place special." That tells him you're available.
"Well, how about coming to my place for a while?" or "Want to stop off at Griffith Park and talk for a few minutes?" or 'I'm really horny when I drive," which means he wants you to go down on him right there. Doing it in a moving car is a turn-on, especially if truckers drive past and look down. They nearly drive off the road. There's a big rest stop on the freeway between Los Angeles and San Diego, and you can have all the sex there you want, any time of day or night. Sometimes I just hitch down there and spend a few hours and hitch back. I get off sometimes up to ten times just on that trip alone. I hear some states have made hitchhiking against the law. Are they crazy? That's depriving us of our sexual rights!
Clay
Clay works for an advertising firm in New York. He went to school in Nebraska and finished college at NYU, where he met David, his lover. They're both thirty-three and live in Manhattan.
-I have a fantasy that repeats itself all the time. I really dream this thing. Not daydream, but actually dream it in my sleep. I told David about it, and he said, "That's why you're always moaning in your sleep!" You see, I'm sitting at my desk in my office. I'm wearing my usual shirt and tie, but no pants, just boxer shorts. Which is strange, because I only wear briefs, Jockey shorts. I think the roots of this fantasy come from college, from my first roommate. He wore the baggy boxer shorts, and I used to go crazy seeing him sitting on the edge of his bed or his chair and the tip of his cock hanging out of one of the legs.
Anyhow, I'm sitting there wearing them. The phone rings, and the secretary tells me my call is ready. I get on the phone with a typical dull business call that goes on for almost an hour. But what's happening through it is, there is a guy kneeling under my desk. He's licking the tip of my cock as it gets harder and harder. The end of it sticks out of one of the legs. The conversation is dull and stilted. But when the guy I'm talking to responds, I cover the mouthpiece and give orders to the cocksucker under the desk. "Sure, Mr. Williams, I approve the estimates on that account," I'd say, and then cover the phone and say, " ... and now take the whole thing in your throat, you dicksucker. Lick my fucking balls through those shorts...." and back to, " ... yes, Mr. Williams, I agree that the most important point ... oh, would you excuse me for a moment...." Then I set the phone down and stand up. The guy pulls down the shorts and starts to rim me as I put my feet up on the desk. I tell him to eat my ass good, and then I get back to Mr. Williams.
The excitement comes from making a routine call and the guy at the other end thinking I'm sitting there twiddling around with a pencil, bored as he is. And all the time I'm getting a perfect blow-job!
Andrew
Andrew's fantasy is almost the same as Clay's. Their background is somewhat alike also. Andrew is forty-four, comes from Iowa, and has lived in New York for almost twenty years. A graduate of Columbia, he is a vice-president of one of the large oil companies.
-I fantasize things about my office. People usually like to escape from the drudgery of their nine-to-five jobs, but there is something very stimulating about the idea of having sex in the place you conduct your business. This is perhaps because all you do there is conduct business; one never has the time or the courage to carry out a sex act there, with the exception of masturbation, which you can do easily if you lock your door.
I like to pretend that I'm on a business call, a very important one involving a great deal of money. Usually it is to Europe or the Middle East, the kind of call on which millions of dollars hinge, on which my whole company's future hinges. While I'm making this call, while I'm talking facts and figures, I see someone walk into the office. I've told my secretary that I am taking no visitors, and I don't know this man. He's young and handsome, and he stares at me and then locks the door. I cannot interrupt my caller, so I merely stare at him, trying desperately to concentrate on the matters at hand, and yet realizing out of the corner of my eye that he has taken off his denim jacket and he is not wearing a shirt, I look up, and his muscles are rippling golden in the light from the window. I feel my cock rising in my pants. My throat tightens, and I clear it, excusing myself to my caller, continuing with business.
The intruder takes off his boots and then unzips his pants. He opens his big belt, and I see his dark pubic hair as he runs his hard fingers through it. I am trembling, and now I must look at some forms on my desk, facts and figures to relate to my caller. The handsome young man drops his pants and walks to the desk and slaps down his enormously thick penis right on the paper I'm reading from. I cannot get off the phone for even a minute, but I touch it with one hand, and I tremble with excitement.
Then he turns my chair toward him, and he starts to undo my clothing-my tie, my shirt, my pants. He slowly strips off all my clothing as I'm talking, every bit, down to the socks on my feet. Then he forces me up from the chair and bends me over it. I'm trying desperately to sound calm and interested in what my caller is saying. But I feel his massive hard cock pressing between my buttocks, and I know he is going to enter me----I hold my breath ... his cock moves into me, hard, fast, and I want to shout, I want to scream, but I cannot ... I moan a bit. My caller asks what I just said, and I say, "Nothing-something seems to be wrong with the connection." His cock rams all the way inside me, and I stiffen, standing up straight as his arms come around my chest and then move down to grasp my pulsating penis. ... Oh", I can't stand it, he's fucking me and fucking me and pumping my cock back and forth and kissing my shoulder....
I tell the caller I will get back to him in a few minutes, that the connection is fading away. When I drop the phone to the cradle I feel that big organ pumping my ass with come, and I fall back into his arms as we crumble to the floor and lie there in the pile that was my best business suit. , I usually reach an orgasm by that point in the fantasy, but if I don't, I think that the phone rings and it is the same caller and I must talk to him, and as I do, the handsome boy gives me a good sucking, and I come into his mouth, with the caller never suspecting anything. In fact, I make a fortune for the firm on that phone call. And before I hang up, the beautiful young guy is dressed and out, never to be seen again.
Tom
Tom's fantasy is recollective and has to do with that great dream of the land of sunshine and orange juice. He now lives in Wisconsin, and, as is usual with recollective fantasies, the place and setting of his dream have much to do with the excitement. What is the saying?-You always want what you can't have. Tom still wants the beaches and the boys guarding them.
-I have this thing about lifeguards. Growing up on Gidget movies and listening to the Beach Boys must have done it to me. First time I hit a California beach, I was hooked. I saw a god sitting up there on the deck of the small tower, a guy with a lean, hard body, and I fantasized what was inside those orange trunks. He wasn't the only one I was nuts about. All summer, the lifeguards were our heroes, saving people and being a little bigger and stronger and smarter and more beautiful than any of us. All the guys wanted to be like them, and all the girls wanted to ball them. Or maybe the guys all wanted to ball them too. I sure did.
Fact is, a lifeguard brought me out. I got to know him real well. I don't remember how; I think it was the time he came to a beach party we'd invited him to and he started talking to me, you know, more than just "beach talk," the kind of crap we slung around all day. He brought me out. We used to meet after he finished work, when the sun was setting, "for a beer." He was old enough to buy beer, of course, and I was at least old enough to drink it. We used to sit in his camper and talk. One night, just after the sun had set, when the sky over the Pacific turned an orange color, he asked me to walk up to a cove he had discovered. We went there and sat down. It got cold soon, and he said he knew how to warm me up. He kissed me. I told him I was too scared to do anything. But I had a hard-on for days.
About a week later he asked me to play volleyball with him. Just the two of us. I saw that he wasn't wearing a jock under his regulation swimming trunks. I could see his cock flopping up and down as clear as day, and I missed the ball almost every time. He did it just to tease me, to turn me on. Later, when he was up in the tower, I pretended to have a cut toe, and I went up the ramp and asked him for a Band-Aid. He got one out, and when he asked where the wound was, I pointed to my cock. He looked me in the eye and dug his strong hand down into my trunks and pulled out my thick hard cock. He put the Band-Aid on my throbbing cock. Then he kissed me and told me to meet him at his camper at seven.
I met him, and we had a beer together and then climbed into the bed and stayed there all night. I called my parents from a phone booth and told them I was staying at a buddy's house. In a way, I was. But I was also getting fucked by the hunkiest lifeguard on Santa Monica beach. Yes, he fucked me. He told me he'd wanted to fuck me since the first day of summer. And he kept on fucking me after that day. Now every time I get balled, I think about a lifeguard doing it. We moved away, and now I live alone in the Midwest. I long for the beaches and those beautiful guys who were the sun kings. Those beautiful studs with those tanned, muscular bodies. And their big juicy lifeguard cocks. I used to dream about drowning and having one of them come out and rescue me. I still dream about that. And as he pulls me in, I can feel his hard cock against my leg, and I come in the water before he drags me to shore. I wish someone would make a TV series about lifeguards. The ratings would be tops. And my TV screen would be covered with come.
Various Men
A number of men from the ages of twenty-five through sixty-five expressed strong sexual desire for teenage boys; since most of them have never had a sexual experience with a boy in his teens, such a coupling remains the strongest fantasy. Take this sampling:
-I can't stand it. I'll be walking down the street, not even thinking about sex, and I'll see some tyke go by on his bike, you know, a kid in his teens with only a T-shirt and ripped jeans on his slim body, and I'll shudder and tremble. I'll think about him all dayl I dream of what was under that shirt, those hard little nipples, and a stomach that ripples over his ribs. And the pants, what's inside the pants! I dream what his cock looks like, how long it is, how thick, how big his balls are, how much they hang; I can even picture the sweat on them from pedaling the bike. I think of licking all the sweat from his beautiful nuts and taking his sweet young dick in my lips and giving him the blow-job of his life! I think about it so much I can't function, I can't work. I sit there tapping pencils and then have to go into the men's room to beat off, because that's the only release.
-I don't masturbate a lot. I live alone and have a good collection of young-boy pornography. I'm very into "chicken," you see. I know that seems a little ridiculous, because I'm only in my twenties, but at times I even find myself wondering what it would be like to fuck my twelve-year-old cousin. The best fantasy for me, one that recurs all the time, the one that I get off on the most, is going into a movie theater, not the sleazy kind like on Forty-second Street in New York, but some nice Utile motion-picture house in the Midwest, and sitting in the same row as a clean-cut, all-American kid of fifteen or so. We eye each other, and I move closer and closer to him, staring between his legs, and he is scared, but I know he wants me to do it. Then I finally reach out and put my hand on his knee, and I see his cock as hard as rock in his white pants. It is straining to get through the undershorts, white-cotton Jockey shorts. Finally I move to the seat next to him and let my fingertips lightly touch the head of his cock. He moans. I unzip his pants, slowly, letting him slip down in the seat more, closing his eyes. Then I undo the snap of the pants, tickle his cock head with my finger through the cotton undershorts, and then lift the elastic band with my thumb and let his beautiful boyish dick pop out. It stands straight up, so young and proud, and he's trembling all over because he wants to be sucked so bad, but it's never happened before, and this is the first afternoon he skipped school to go to a movie alone. Finally, I go down on him. His trembling cock slides down into the back of my throat, and he comes almost immediately because he is so excited. I drink down every drop of his bittersweet cream, and when I finally come up, he quickly zips up his pants and runs out of the theater. Then I enjoy the film, still tasting his come between my teeth. I picture him going home to dinner with his brothers and sisters, having a nice pot roast his Midwestern ii mom cooked all afternoon, and telling them about his afternoon in school. And I know that, as he lies, he has an erection under the table!
-I don't dream of any specific kid, just the back end of a beauty. I spread his hairless legs apart and stare at that pink, puckered asshole and smash my face down into it, getting my tongue as far up him as I can. Then I fuck him with my spit as lubrication, with my big cock, and he screams in pain until I come and fill him full of my sperm. Then I suck all my own jism outta his asshole and drink it down.
-I'm in my sixties now, and I find that the best sexual release I can find is watching young boys, mostly teenage boys. It is not only good for the mind, it's good for the spirit There is something honorable in loving the young male body, something nearly holy in the worship of the most beautiful of God's creations. I live near a high school, and I often spend the afternoon sitting on a bench in the park watching the boys playing football and running around the field, and sometimes I go down to the public swimming pool just to see the boys in their brief swimming trunks. I see in them everything I wanted to be. I dream that I'm that boy in the yellow trunks on the diving board. I dream that I have that body and that cock, and I'm not afraid to show it to the world. When I grew up, we wore baggy pants and hid our bodies. I envy the youth of today, I envy their freedom, their openness. And don't call me a dirty old fool because of this, but I think boys of today have bigger sexual organs than years ago. I don't know why, evolution or whatever you want to call it, but I see some of these kids with those big things bouncing around inside their sweat pants, and I just swoon! For years I've wanted a boy of my own. I advertised for a "houseboy" once, but never hired one. I know that I would become cynical and possessive. I've seen too many men like me ending up hating the boy they're keeping because they resent him-he is everything they wished they could have been. So, for me, I'll settle for sitting on the bench and watching those muscles and the long hair over their foreheads and their tight swimming trunks crawling up the crack of their rears. I come home and I look at the photos I've collected over the years, and I will get sexual release that way. I picture myself with them, swimming with them, running around the field, and especially in the locker room, where I can see their genitals and maybe even grab a feel sometimes. But my pleasure is really more an aesthetic one. I thank God there is such a beautiful animal as the young boy, with his mane of golden hair and sinewy muscles and magnificent penis-I think that's what keeps me alive. I don't want to die and miss one minute of these spectator thrills.
-I can't get it on with my lover. We have been together five years and we love each other a lot-man, I just haven't met anyone else I'd rather live with. He's thirty-seven and I'm thirty-four and we have a lot of the same interests and differ just enough to make life interesting. All but one place-in bed. I have to dream. I really have to fucking dream to be able to come. And the only thing I can get off on is young kids, really young kids, kids who don't even have cock hair yet. I usually think variations of the same theme: I'm a camp counselor, summer camp, you know. And I have a cabin of boys, ten of them or so, and I sleep there with them to be sure they are protected and they stay "in line." During the nights I have a different one, after they've all gone to sleep. I'll sneak over to little Donny's bunk and pull down the covers and see his small cock outline in his shorts, and then I'll put my head down there and kiss it and lick it until it hardens and I can suck on it. Sometimes he's awake, and other times he's asleep, and I usually imagine he's having a sexy dream. ... Or I find a kid who has to be punished. He's done something wrong, and I tell him he has to be punished with all the other kids watching him. So after lights out, I have two of the boys hold flashlights as I pull down the kid's pants and stick my finger up his tight little asshole. They all get excited and start playing with their cocks, and when I finally whip out my dick, they gasp and tell me to go ahead and fuck the kid on the bed. So I do, warning that if he yells in pain, I'll have him sent home to his parents. So my cock enters him, and I fuck him while I suck one of the other kids, maybe two of them at the same time, and order another one to feel my nuts and another one to lick my hairy asshole. I have a whole harem of boys ten or twelve years old who will do anything I want. My lover doesn't know it, but for almost three years now that same dream has kept our sex life alive. Funny, you know, I never thought about it much, but maybe he's doing the exact same thing. Wow, that freaks me out.
-My erotic fantasy is to walk down the corridor of a school and see one terrific-looking teenage boy sitting alone in a classroom. You ask him what he's doing there, and he says he's the troublemaker and the teacher made him stay after class. You tell him, "Fuck the teacher," and talk him into joining you while jerking off all over the teacher's desk. Of course, it's just a way to see his cock and watch it come-teenage boys shoot more cream and farther than guys of any other age.
-I often dream my wife is a young boy. She's small and has small breasts. But when I'm fucking her I want to think my cock is actually up a boy's asshole, and I could reach down any moment and feel a cock just like mine. ... I don't know what it feels like to fuck a little boy, but I imagine it feels as good as a virgin cunt, and I haven't felt one of those in many years.
-I dream of watching a teenager take a shower, get a hard-on, and beat off. That's all I need for sexual release. Always a different boy, different bathroom, different way of coming. Like onto the mirror or in his hand or lying back on the floor with his feet up against the wall so the come lands in his own face. I can come just thinking about it, without even having to jerk off. It relieves all my frustration.
Rodney
As with the inferiority fantasies of heterosexuals, Rodney has a hang-up with penis size and color, and it becomes the overriding factor of his fantasy life.
-I fantasize about only one thing-a big white circumcised penis. The reason? I'm black and my cock isn't very big and I'm uncircumcised. I went to school in a white neighborhood, and even though it was very "liberal" and progressive and all that shit, I felt the tension with certain others. Gym class was the worst. All the kids had those fantasies about "big-dicked niggers," and when they saw me they realized most of them were bigger than I was. And they all were circumcised, all but one. His cock was incredible, so strange and different At least to the other guys, but to me it wasn't different because I wasn't circumcised either. But I had a double thing going against me: I was black on top of it, so they didn't laugh at him, only at me. And, like I said, because I wasn't very big.
I know I'm only supposed to tell my true fantasies here, but I can't do that until I explain why my dream life is so slanted. I think of nothing but beautiful cocks, white cocks, cocks with no foreskin to pull back, no covering over that big head with the hard ridge. I don't really picture the person, just the penis, just the size and shape of it, as though I'm looking at a close-up picture, a color slide that is zoomed in on a cock. I see them hard and soft, in all kinds of positions, hanging out of a pair of undershorts, everything. But it's that fixation on a white circumcised penis that gets me off.
Harve
-I'm a black male, thirty-seven years old, and I'm gay. I came out when I was in college. Now I have a white roommate and we sometimes have sex. But my fantasies are about my heritage. I like thinking I'm a slave and my roommate is the white plantation owner and I have to give him a suck-job so he won't whip me.
John
John is a set designer who lives and works in New York City.
-I had a love-hate relationship with a kid in high school. We started out as great pals, and then something happened, I don't even remember what it was, that turned us against each other. It had something to do with sex, subconsciously, but of course I know that only in retrospect. An incident took place in the locker room one day that's remained the strongest fantasy I've ever had. Or I should say it's the basis for a fantasy; up to a point, everything I think about while masturbating is true, but then I freeze the action, or stop the moment, and let what would have happened take over.
Craig and another kid had just come into the locker room. I had already showered and was sitting on a bench, tying my shoes, when they started teasing me and making fun of me. Craig was always a gentle, kind kid, but when he started hanging around with some of the jock types, he had to prove his masculinity, and this whole macho trip came out. Well, they called me a cocksucker and told me to suck their dicks. I ignored them and finished tying my shoes.
What astonished me was that when I looked up, they were both standing in front of me with their cocks hanging out. That's the moment I stop the action and freeze the frame. Those two big (and I'm not exaggerating here, this isn't the fantasy yet; they both had gigantic cocks for guys in high school) dicks were just hanging there in front of me. Of course I refused and told them to screw themselves and ran out of there with a red face. But now I see myself doing what they wanted me to do....
I look straight up into their red faces and say, "Sure, who's first?" They're so startled they can't decide, so I put my hands up and grab both dicks and pull them into my mouth at the same time. Immediately they get hard, and I keep them in there, sucking at the growing heads, as I finger their balls and get them outside their pants. I start moving their bodies back and forth by pulling on their tight asses, and that way their cocks move against each other in my mouth and I suck as hard as I can. A whole group of guys stand around, gathering as the word spreads through the shower room, maybe through the whole school, that I'm giving blow-jobs in the locker room.
Craig and his hotshot buddy are enjoying all the jocks standing around egging them on. You know, they're all yelling things like, "Come in the cocksucker's face! Cream till he fuckin' chokes!" And I'm loving it, my cock hard and ready to burst out of my pants. Finally, Craig comes, with a hoot, and his friend does the same, and there is so much good hot cream that I can't drink it all, some of it runs down my chin....
Oh, from there on it keeps going, I mean every guy in the school is waiting in line, plus some of the teachers. They're all standing there with their dicks in their hands, or their tight jock straps almost bursting because they're so excited, and I take them on, all of them, the whole football team, drinking all that wonderful white juice until I come in my own pants from the sheer excitement.
But the point I'm making is that great fantasies can be made by taking an actual experience that didn't work out. Go back and re-create it in your mind, and then freeze at the point it went wrong. From there on, you can go wild!
CHAPTER TWO
Masturbation
The age of "you'll go blind and grow hair on your palms" is past; we masturbate quite freely. Even the schools today are telling young boys it may not be a particularly "nice" thing to do, but it sure as hell is normal. Truth is, male masturbation has always been accepted; everyone knows that little boys beat off-it's as simple as that. It's just that now a good deal of the guilt has been removed; masturbation has come of age. Hurray for the sexual revolution.
And what about masturbation? I found out quite a few things in my talks with men in the course of gathering material for this book. All of them masturbated and had been masturbating since they could remember knowing what sex was all about. I take that to mean they've been masturbating ever since they felt real sexual excitement, which was probably the same time they dreamed their first sexual dreams. The secret that men masturbate is no secret; what is still somewhat unknown is the kinds of fantasies most often associated with private masturbation. (I don't include mutual masturbation or circle-jerks here, because often the act itself is the stimulus for orgasm and few fantasies are actually conjured up.) I tried to find the most common fantasies men have while masturbating and realized I was asking the impossible. How do you say, "The average male thinks about so-and-so while beating oft"? Ridiculous. There are as many fantasies as there are men who masturbate, and to group them together in categories would serve no purpose. So, then, what about masturbation-what is it doing in this book?
It is listed here because fantasy and masturbation go hand-in-hand (if you'll pardon that expression). Can you have one without the other? Sure. Fantasy is often stimulating on only an emotional level, without reaching the electric connections to the penis. I guess one could masturbate without fantasy, but the thought seems somehow near-impossible, or at least, very boring.
Secret sexual dreams, erotic fantasies, are the most important part of the act of masturbation. I really have come to believe that. I think for a time I thought it depended on technique, on where you "did it," and what you used to help get off. Lying in the bathtub with your feet in the air, the water running onto your balls and ass to give you that extra tingle that brought you off like wildfire. Sneaking a fast jerk-off in the men's John in high school. Sure, the physical surroundings and trappings have a lot to do with your excitement, but what about your mind at those moments? In the tub, were you thinking it was a beautiful boy licking your balls rather than the water? Maybe he was peeing on your ass. Maybe he was even a movie star you had been crazy about. And in the can at school, were you thinking your algebra teacher with the huge basket was kneeling down next to the toilet in the stall with you, begging you to cream all over his face? Think about it. It'll come back to you.
The point I'm making is that the best masturbatory orgasms occur when your fantasy level is extremely high. The place and the time and the way you're doing it-with your left hand greased with chocolate sauce, if that's what you like-mean something; but the tremendous pitch of excitement in masturbation comes from the mind.
This book is a collection of fantasies that are used in, have been used in, or will be used in masturbation. I'd be a hypocrite if I pretended a lofty approach and said this book has only the purpose to educate the reader as to the kinds of fantasies men have, and to what extent the male imagination goes-meaning this is a book that is a social document only, and you shouldn't get an erection reading it. Much less pull that erection out of your pants and masturbate. I hope you do find fantasies here that stimulate you and give you masturbatory pleasure. What good is a collection of average men's fantasies if they can't be shared? As I said earlier, the main purpose I've had in gathering these thoughts from men all over the country is to tell other men-you-that you aren't much different from the rest. You thought you were the only one with wild dreams? And you felt strange and guilty because of them? This collection should make you feel happy-maybe even proud?-that you're so normal.
But the fact that the entire book could be called a big masturbatory fantasy is neither here nor there; what is important to the heading "Masturbation" is some of the fantasies that, when told to me, were labeled as being strictly masturbatory-that is, the daydreams to which men beat off. Many of them will be listed here in Part Two, on homosexuality, and also in the chapters on bisexuality.
But first, let's get back to that idea of place and surroundings and the paraphernalia involved with the act of masturbating. From the simplest form, sliding one's hand up and down the shaft of one's penis, to such outlandish theater as using a pump-type gadget plugged into the wall as you watch yourself in fifteen mirrors placed in strategic positions around the room (no kidding; a young man from Dallas called to tell me that was his average everyday jerk-off session), men do find a need to talk about it.
So I asked the simple question, "What about masturbation?" I got some wonderfully interesting replies, ranging from, "Yeah, what about it?" to "Jesus, man, that's all I fucking do. ... I can rap with you about that for days!" (He almost did.) I found out that most men found it difficult to believe that women masturbated often; many men I talked to, predominantly heterosexual, refused to believe women masturbated at all. In discussing female masturbation, they often referred to "the old Coke bottle," which seemed to show either a lack of understanding of the process of female masturbation or some kind of macho, self-protective write-off of the entire notion-or both. No matter; what is important here is the male. However, it struck me that most men, homosexual and straight,-even the most literate and intelligent-seemed to suggest that masturbation was a male institution. Then again, perhaps it has been. After all, recent books have been teaching women to masturbate, and they have been selling. Meaning there is a market for such instruction. Which, in turn, makes me feel that the female-sexual-fantasy books' serve a great purpose.
Getting back to the men. First, the answers to my question that deal basically with the technique of masturbation: I include them here only because I think you will find them interesting, and no doubt you will relate to them, some with a chuckle, others with a racing pulse.
When asked specifically about masturbation, many gay men seemed to be only too happy to offer techniques and a list of places where the act seems to generate the most excitement for them. Obviously, many of these "short takes" from longer interviews and questionnaires are realistic; others are certainly figments of erotic imagination. All are viable fantasies.
Kip
-I have a fetish known only to myself. Well, I think I'm the only one doing it, because I don't see it anywhere. Semen, I'm talking about. I get off on jerking off onto rest-room mirrors. Sometimes I'll go into a public John and pretend to take a leak for fifteen minutes, just to wait until the place is empty. Then I move over to the mirror and watch myself as I come. Often I can't reach the mirrors with my cock, even though I'm six feet tall. So I come into my hand and smear all over the mirror. What really turns me on is thinking about the next guy who walks in there and sees it, and how he reacts. And I like to do it in classy men's rooms, like in big fancy hotels or in office buildings, because it's all the more astonishing there. I don't like dirty Johns like in public parks and libraries and all. Christ, in there you'll find shit on the mirrors! I like messing up a clean place. If it's sparkling, I sometimes shoot my semen right through the air onto the mirror. I've always dreamed of doing it in a men's room at the White House.
Robert
-I work in a restaurant. You asked me about jerking off and where I do it? Guess! Yeah, people eat omelets with my jism in them. Hell, the stuff has protein, right? I had worked as a cook in a big place, and I was always thinking of what it would be like to cream in the food and stick my head out the door and watch the customers stuffing down my jism. So when I got this job in a small place, I'm usually alone back there. It's easy to whip out my dick and cream into the whipping cream. Or to jerk off into the ice-cream high-protein drink we serve. I just increase the protein. I know a crazy guy who used to piss into the orange juice in the hotel restaurant he worked in. I don't have that kind of nerve yet, but it excites me.
Larry
-Using your hand is a waste of time when you can use your mouth. No, I can't suck myself like other guys whose pictures I've seen. I'd give anything to do that, but I can't. So I do the next best thing. I once answered an ad in a gay paper where this kid offered to come to your house to demonstrate a machine that jacks you off. Well, he came over and set up the whole thing. He was a beauty with a fine cock, and he let me watch him as he put the plastic tube on his cock. Then I rubbed his balls as the machine made him come. It seemed to suck hard on his cock, like a mechanical blow-job. He let me try it, and it really worked. But the thing was too expensive.
Sam
-I jerk off into clothes, usually pants or shirts that feel good on my penis. I like to do this in fitting rooms in department stores. I take in two pairs of pants and try one pair on while I masturbate into the other pair. When I hang them on the rack, no one notices. Until some other guy comes along to try them on. I especially like fitting rooms with mirrors, so I can watch myself do it. I like to come in the armpit of a shirt. I like to think about a beautiful man taking that shirt into a fitting room later to try it on, and then finding that his arm is suddenly all covered with spunk.
Gene
-Who says gay guys don't use rubbers? Bullshit. I not only use them when I have sex with my lover (he likes to be fucked with French ticklers), but when I beat off. I love the pre-lubricated kind, all wet and mushy and feeling like a warm mouth. Sometimes I use the same rubber over and over, each time feeling my own cream covering the head of my cock. I get excited watching the head of one of those balloons fill with my cream. Sometimes my lover sucks the cream out of a rubber I've used when he gets home from work. I've even mailed rubbers full of my cream to guys I know who can dig it.
Ivan
-I like to masturbate right into my undershorts. Especially when my cock is pointing downward, the head against my balls. There's nothing like the feeling of the pouch of Jockey shorts filling with that hot stuff, just feeling it swim around your balls. I do it all the time, everywhere. In restaurants when I'm eyeing some kid I'd like to make, or if I have a waiter with a nice basket I like to do it in the movies, even at concerts. I once did it while dressed in a tux at the opening night of a new operal I sometimes wear two pairs of shorts so it will soak up and not come through my pants and make everything all wet. I do it all the time in porno bookstores. Why buy a magazine full of guys sucking and fucking for six bucks, when you can jerk off to it right there for nothing? And never even have to pull your cock out of your pants.
Mark
-I'm a businessman, and I have to be very discreet. The leather scene, especially motorcycles and men dressed in Hell's Angel's type gear, fascinates me. After seeing the film Scorpio Rising some years ago, I decided to buy a motorcycle. It sits in my garage, but it has never been used. At least, not for transportation. I use it all the time in another way. I go to the garage, take off my pants, kneel on the cold concrete floor, and stick my dick up the exhaust pipe and jerk off. Gallons of come must be up there by now.
Roger
-I have an automobile fetish. I go to new-car lots, and if I can get my cock out before the salesman gets there, I come right away. I love the smell of new cars. I had my first blow-job in one when I was sixteen. My dad's brother brought his new Nash over to show our family, but no one was home but me. I hopped in, and he reached over and started playing with me and finally got my cock into his mouth. I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy it. I've never forgotten that new-car smell and that sensual feeling.
Jack
-Outdoors. The only place to jerk off. In the sun. Feel it on your hard dick, let it make your nuts sweat. Come all over your stomach and chest and hear it sizzle. Outside's the only place to do it!
Tony
-In a whirlpool bath. That swirling, whirling water is enough to bring me off without even putting my hand near my cock.
Tad
-In freshly cut grass. I don't mean pot. I mean grass that grows in front of houses. When you rake it up, stick your dick into the soft pile. It feels wonderful, even damp. If you kneel and let your balls move through it, you'll really go nutty. I only get to do it when I visit my parents' house in the country. I envy guys who live in the suburbs. My lover and I have an apartment, and the closest thing we've found to the grass is alfalfa sprouts from the supermarket But they're so goddamn expensive.
Frederic I
-I masturbate by slapping my cock against my thigh.
George
-I use a towel wrapped around my prick. It feels bigger in my hand that way, and the motion of the terrycloth moving over my balls as I beat it up and down really drives me up the wall. It's handy, too. It catches the come and keeps it from flying all over the place.
Richard
-I stick a small plastic bag over my dick and squirt some hand lotion in it. Then I work it up and down with the creamy stuff while I look at pornographic pictures of men getting their asses fucked.
Ken
-How I jerk off? I don't. I let other guys do it for me. Their hands are always better than my own.
Daniel
-I'm a homosexual who turns on to women's clothing. I jerk off into a bra or a pair of lace panties. Sometimes I get up enough nerve to do it in a crowded dress section of a department store. I pretend I'm leaning against a rack. I think I want to be caught, but no one ever seems to notice.
Norman
-I belong to a club. We meet every Thursday night, just like a bridge club or something. This is a sex club, and it's for men only. We talk about dirty things and look at films and slides. Sometimes one of the group brings a guy who wants to service all of us, and we let him suck us, going down the line on his knees. There are ten of us.
But most of the time we jerk off. For a long time, so we come two or three times each. We even take a break for a snack in between. A beer and pizza. Then we're ready to get our cocks up again.
We have experimented with all kinds of ways to beat off. The best is with your hand-it comes back to that. Lots of things help, like creams and lotions. A turn-on is spreading your legs over a little table or a piano bench. On the bench is a cup of warm water, or even a cup of piss if you can dig that. You come down nice and slow and just let your balls settle into it. Some guys like cold stuff. A dish of beer or even melted ice cream. 'Course, another mouth is always fine.
You asked about where I jerk off. When I'm alone, I usually do it in the bathroom. Sitting on the John. Sometimes I do it in bed, because I have mirrors on the ceiling. I like to watch. But with the club, we sometimes go out and do it in places like a movie theater (usually porno) or a bar. We stand together and take out our dicks and let the other guys stare at us with their tongues hanging out. Sometimes when it's warm we go down to the beach and sit around jerking off. You can usually pick up a surfer type down there if you offer him some beer and grass, and we like to make him spread out on the sand and we stand around above him. We make him pull his trunks off. Then he plays with himself while we all cream over him, from head to foot. The hot white stuff hits his face and his cock and his feet. Then we make him suck us all clean and sometimes we piss on him.
Also, I like to jerk off when I take a leak in a public toilet I can't help it. I get a case of the hornies when I walk into those places, even if there isn't a blond number sitting on the John waiting to suck me off. Just being in a room where hundreds of cocks hang loose every day is enough to get me hard.
Ed I
-In the shower, with lots of lather on my dick.
Fritz
-I have a real long penis, and I can put it up my own asshole when it's half-hard. I come like that, working the shaft with my fingertips. I hold my balls aside with my other hand, kinda rubbing them, which feels good. I once made a film of me fucking myself. I loved watching the cream running out of my anal opening when I popped my cock out. I don't like fucking other guys nearly as much as myself. I guess you'd really have to call it masturbating inside my asshole.
Jon
-I beat off whenever I see the doctor for a checkup. You know, while you wait in one of those little rooms? It's so sterile in there. So clean. And tissues are always handy.
Benji
-I take a stack of old 45-rpm records and hold them together and then shove my dick in the hole. I move all the discs around with my hands, and it feels like thousands of teeth biting at my cock.
Paul
-I pick up boys and fuck them, but not how they expect I get them spread on the bed, begging for my dick up their ass, and I kneel between their outstretched legs. I start beating off and rubbing the head against their hot assholes. I make them plead and groan, telling how much they want my huge shaft up their holes. Then I come onto their asses, right there on the hole, all my steamy jism burning into their buns. They scream and yell, and right then, as I'm still shooting, I shove my dick all the way up them, using my own jism as the lubrication, and fuck them until I come again. It's a good way of jerking off and fucking at the same time.
Karl
-Jerking off? In movie theaters, where people can watch me if they don't like what they see on the screen.
Mel
-Why, I do it in phone booths. No, I don't make obscene calls, but I like it if a cute kid goes by on his bicycle and sees me. I get out of there before he can get home and tell his parents. But I leave a nice puddle of come on the floor.
Terry
-I carve a hole into an unsliced loaf of bread. I stick my hard cock into it and move it back and forth. The sensation is sensational!
Hal
-I've been working on a high-rise building for almost a year now. Got at least another year to go. It's right across from a hospital. Well, every morning at ten-thirty, when we have a break, I go to the edge of one of the floors. I take out my cock and wave it a little, and I can see the orderlies and nurses gathering on the floors across from me. Some beautiful patients, too. Then I jerk myself off, and the comes flies through the air. I know I'm the attraction of their fucking day over there. One of these days I'm gonna have this guy I work with suck me off in front of them. They'll fall outta the lucking Window over there! I don't like screwing chicks all that much, but I don't mind them watching me jerking or getting it on with another dude.
Keir
-I bring myself to an orgasm with my electric toothbrush. I buy the soft-bristle brushes and just tickle myself until I shoot.
Ron
-Wanna tip for jacking off? Use your left hand if you're right-handed, and vice versa. Why? Your cock feels bigger when you hold it with the other hand. Try it. See?
CHAPTER THREE
Keeping It in the Family
Many heterosexual men have fantasies about relatives-mothers, daughters, cousins, aunts, etc. The same is true of some male homosexuals-they fantasize about male relatives. Incest has been with us since Oedipus, and although most incest fantasies are never acted out, they are stimulating and produce a high tension of reality for the fantasizer. It is interesting to note that homosexual men offered up incestual thoughts more readily than did heterosexual men-that is, they told them with far less guilt. Why? Perhaps they are more liberated in that kind of thinking. Perhaps I just hit on a certain type of man. It doesn't matter, except that we have more gay incest fantasies in this book than straight ones.
Again, the thing to remember is that if you've at one time in your life had a "thing" for your sixteen-year-old brother-even if for those ten minutes in the family swimming pool when you realized he wasn't just "little Davie" anymore but "little manly sexy Davie" and you started getting an erection in your trunks-you shouldn't think you're sick or demented or perverted or even the least bit off-balance. Lust is healthy. Davie is a beautiful boy. You like beautiful boys. So what if he's your brother? You didn't make it with him, did you? Even if you did, so what? If that's your thing-and his-fine. Even if it isn't your thing in reality, it can be your best and most fulfilling fantasy. Witness these and then ask yourself if you're so strange.
Paul
The following is an interview done with a young man I've known for a few years. He is homosexual, but that seems to be beside the point. Paul is bright and manly, works on the design staff of one of the major automobile manufacturers, and leads a somewhat quiet life. He is extremely civic-minded and plans to run for assemblyman from his district someday soon. Well--liked by his fellow workers (women as well as men), he seems as "normal" and well-adjusted and aware as the next man-perhaps even more so. His secret sex life is another thing. To say it is not normal or well-adjusted is nonsense-what is normal anyway? And what is well-adjusted? Paul is perfectly adjusted to his particular secret sex life; he has, he says, no guilt feelings or desire to be any other way. As for aware-Paul is amazingly aware, again, of what his particular fantasy world is all about.
How old were you when you first started having sexual fantasies and wishes? Oh, who can answer that? Doesn't Freud say we begin at birth or before?
At what age did you have your first sexual experience? You mean kiddie-fooling-around stuff, or the real thing, getting it on with a guy?
Both.
Well, hell, I think we started when we were old enough to know what our cocks were for. I mean, I think we always played around like that. Jimmy-he was my age and my best buddy-and I had the biggest cock of all the kids on the block, and the others envied us a lot-my younger brother ... his younger brother too, as a matter-of-fact. Sometimes we charged a quarter to watch.
Were girls included? No, never. Well, one, but she wasn't really a girl. A tomboy is what she was. Secretly wanted a cock. She's probably running around now with a dildo strapped to her. Tough little cunt. Used to roll me.
Have you ever had sex with a woman? You kidding? Haven't even had the desire. Women are my best friends, but I don't want to go to bed with any of them.
When did the kiddie-playing-around stuff, as you call it, stop? When did actual sex with another male start? Was there a distinction at some time? Sure. Very distinct. Two things happened. Well, the first one had to do with Jimmy. We were alone one day....
How old were you? Fifteen, I think. We decided to go into the garage-we had a fort built above the cars, in the rafters, with a nice bed and a small collection of dirty pictures-and beat off like we always did. For some reason, that time it was different. We took off our pants and did the usual, kinda moving our cocks together. We used to get off on the fact that they looked exactly alike. Honest, there wasn't a difference anywhere. His balls were bigger than mine, but our cocks were twins. We pressed them together and fingered each other, and as we tried to get them closer, our bodies pressed together, and suddenly we found ourselves kissing each other. I think we both suddenly realized we weren't "playing doctor" anymore. We were digging it.
How can you be sure he was liking it? 'Cause he told me last year. He's married and has two kids now, and we ran into each other last year at this political thing, and we got it on.
What happened? He fucked me. And he told me he remembered the day we first kissed and how exciting it was.
He's bisexual now? Well, I don't know how to answer that. Yeah, if that means he can get it up for a guy and for a girl. But he told me he had never done it with anyone but me. Only with women for the past seven or eight years, since we stopped doing it. So I guess he's straight with an open mind for my ass.
Why did you and Jimmy stop having sex for so many years? We kept up this heavy thing, really getting it on, until we got into the social thing in high school, and he started doubting his masculinity and all that crap, and he decided to cool it or go crazy. I understand that. I mean, I don't put anyone down for that, 'cause it's a rough thing to go through, especially if you come from middle-class uptight religious families like ours, and living in the Midwest yet, but I never had that problem. I kinda accepted what I did or what I wanted to do and lived with it. But ... Jimmy and I sure dug it all the time we were doing it, you know? He fucked me like crazy, nearly every day, after school. And on Saturdays too, when everyone else was playing ball or bowling or doing all that usual shit, he was ramming his cock up my ass. He's still a good fuck. Jeanie-that's his wife-is lucky. Anyhow, we couldn't keep it from the others, our emotional involvement, you know? How could we sit around and circle-jerk and not be able to embrace and kiss and suck each other's cocks? How do you do that in front of your kid brother? So we pretended to be "buddies" and nothing more, and that was part of the reason we drifted apart sexually.
You've pursued an active sex life since your "breakup" with Jimmy? Active? "Hysterical" is more the word.
What kind of fantasies did you have, and do you have? Well, they mostly have to do with getting fucked. Yeah, I'd say ninety percent of them have to do with getting fucked. Usually in my dreams it's a movie star or some guy I've seen in Playgirl or something like that. I remember I used to dream about getting fucked by Jim Morrison of the Doors. When he died, a lot of my fantasy life died too. I prefer doing it now, to dreaming about it.
You seem to prefer anal sex. Any special reason? My Uncle Greg fucked me. That was the first time I had sex in my life.
Before Jimmy? Sure. Before we moved into Jimmy's neighborhood. I was born in a little dump of a town-you know that-and there were girls all around. All I did in my childhood was make mudpies and play "daddy" to Betsy Wetsy dolls. Anyhow, I had this uncle, Greg-I still have him, as a matter-of-fact, the asshole. I hate his guts. Don't respect him at all.
Because he raped you? No, man, that's the only good thing he ever did in his life! He's a bum, keeps getting fired from jobs, comes home drunk, slaps his wife around all the time, treats his kids like shit. I secretly think he's been fighting his sexuality all these years, and now he's taking it out on his wife and kids. That's something that really bugs me, guys who won't let themselves be what they are. They fuck up so many lives because of it. Jesus.
What about your experience with your uncle? I still remember it vividly, and get off on it. I hate him, but I didn't hate him then. He was in his late teens and very humpy. He used to baby-sit for me and my brother all the time. I was old enough-I mean, I didn't need a damn baby-sitter, but Mom thought it was a good thing for her brother to take care of his nephews. She should have known!
How old were you? Twelve or thirteen. Thirteen, I think. Yeah. He was about eighteen or nineteen.
You experienced anal intercourse when you were thirteen? Yeah, and after it happened, I stuck my fingers up my ass for two years until Jimmy and his cock came along. See, I had a beautiful ass when I was a kid. Uncle Greg had taste.
Seriously, what happened? Well, it was summer, and I was out in the little plastic blow-up pool with all the blue-and-yel-low fish painted on the bottom, you know? Uncle Greg was sitting in his swimming trunks in the sun-Mom and Dad had gone to Canada for the weekend-and watched me and kinda daydreamed. Anyhow, his cock started sliding out of his trunks. He was wearing those baggy boxer kind. He was good-looking and had a gorgeous body. Now he's got a roll of fat around the middle and two chins. And he's still so young. I wish he looked like he did when he was nineteen. I'd still go for him....
How did you get into a sexual scene with him? It was time to go in or something, and we had a shower in the basement, a thing my dad had rigged up, a rubber hose with a shower head, right in the middle of the basement near the washtubs. There was no stall or door or anything like that. So we took a shower together, and his cock was half-hard all the time, and I told him it was nice 'cause it was so big, or something like that. And it was beautiful, big, and fat. God, to me it looked like Mom's rolling pin. I remember he said mine would get that big someday. Then he asked if I wanted to take a nap, and I said yes. We went up to the family room, and he lay back on the couch and told me to lie on the soft rug next to it. He started telling me how good it felt to play with his cock, and he reached down and touched mine, which was hard. He pulled on it and said I'd probably be able to come in another year and I would learn how to fuck girls. I looked up and saw his cock completely hard, and I gasped. I was fascinated.
He told me to touch it, that it wasn't going to bite me, and so I reached up and put my fingers over the head. It was nice. Like mine, only bigger and hotter. He asked me if I knew that a guy could stick his cock up another guy's asshole.
Were you shocked? Hell no. I worshiped him; he was a big stud, in my eyes. He went out with girls and drove a car, all that hero-worship shit. So he reached down, and I closed my eyes as he started feeling my asshole with his finger. I think I knew he was going to put his finger up it. I spread my legs and held them over my head. He slid his finger in and finger-fucked me while I stared up at his big luscious dick and all the thick dark hair around it. That fascinated me too-something I didn't have. He pulled his finger out and spit on two of them and worked them up me. It felt great! Best sensation I'd ever felt. If I had been old enough to come, I would have. It was amazing.
Then, before I knew it, he was pressing the head of his big hard cock where his finger had been, and I just watched, really excited, wondering if he would be able to put that big thing inside me. I don't think I was scared.
I was just going to ask that. No, I wasn't. I was breathless, like I couldn't believe it was happening. I lay there looking up at the ceiling, and he shoved a pillow under my ass, and I held my feet over my head so my asshole was spread wide open. He asked me if I wanted him to do it, and I said yeah, sure. I was going crazy. Finally I wasn't making mudpies or fighting with the tomboy girl across the street. I was finally doing what guys do!
He pressed the head against me, and all I remember was thinking Uncle Greg is doing what he does to his girlfriend, which made me feel pretty special, you know? Just like the blond he used to drive past the house with. He screwed the head of his big dick into me and asked if it hurt, and I shook my head-I was lying-and then he started to shove the rest of it into me.
The pain excited you? Yeah. That was part of it
In your fantasies today, do you relive that pain? I think so. Pain is part of all sex acts, I think. Well, maybe not all, but most ones I have. I like some pain. I guess that's why I like being fucked, especially by big cocks.
You know what it's all about? It's about feeling full, if you can understand that. Full and complete and fulfilled. It has a lot to do with your head. Not just your asshole. Oh, he lifted me up, and I sat on his dick, and I was crying, but he wiped my tears away, and after a while I kinda got used to it, and he stood up and walked around, carrying me on his cock. It was inside me-that was the trip! I had my arms wrapped around his neck and hugged him like crazy as I felt his big cock moving in my asshole. God, it felt like the whole world had crawled inside me. I felt like I was full of energy. He had me reach down and feel his nuts, and I remember they were all tight, which surprised me, because they had been hanging low in the shower. I felt his cock going into me and still couldn't believe it.
Did he ejaculate inside you? Jesus, yes. People say you can't really feel a guy coming inside your ass, but that's bullshit. I felt it that time. We sat on one of the dining-room chairs, and I unwrapped my feet from around his ass and he told me he was gonna shove it in and out a little, and I lay back on the dining-room table, which was just the right height for him to stand, and I held my legs open again as he watched his cock sliding in and out of me. He shoved just a few times, and then he let out a yell and I had to grab the lace tablecloth in my hands because I thought I was going to fly across the room. It was so incredible. I could feel him pumping hot liquid into me, and he was moaning and sweating and I was in another world. I felt all the cream running out of my asshole, onto the tablecloth. Jesus, it was a mess. But we cleaned it up.
Was that the only experience with him? No, a few more times. See, something happened. I think he went through the same thing Jimmy eventually went through-he got fucked up in the head because of it. A masculinity-crisis thing. He started banging his girls again and didn't come around much. He made up all kinds of excuses for not baby-sitting. He was feeling guilty. It was weird-I mean, I could dig it, and I was only thirteen! He was almost twenty, and he nearly had to go to a shrink because of it. I guess it's hard to live in a small town and be fucking your sister's son and pretend to be superstraight and have girlfriends and all. We moved to Detroit the next year.
Did you have dreams about him from the day you had sex? Constantly. I even drew pictures of his cock in school.
You're a designer-you draw. Do you still sketch sex 'scenes for secret pleasure? I like to draw cocks.
Do you masturbate over them? I did. I once put my dick on the drawing board and outlined it. But that was just for fun. I dug drawing hot fucking scenes for a while, but I'd rather look at pictures.
Pornography turns you on? Sure. Usually fucking stuff, hard-action stuff. No S&M, though-that doesn't do anything for me. You know what I like? I like the feeling, after you're done fucking, of the come dripping out your asshole. That was a real turn-on with Uncle Greg, and it has always been exciting for me. Sometimes I like to suck the cock that's just been in me and let the come slide out of my ass at the same time. It's a head trip. It excites me.
What's your wildest fantasy? That's hard. No, it's not. See, I guess it would be the one about Greg. We fuck in the morning. He's been baby-sitting and stayed over when Mom and Dad came home late Saturday night. We wake early, before Mom and Dad and my little brother get up for Mass. He fucks me like crazy with his big cock, and we can't make a sound or they'll hear. He shoots a big load into me just as everyone wakes up. I put on two pairs of Jockey shorts and we go to church. I've been holding the come inside me all the time. So there, during Mass, I let his cream leak out of my ass, and I am so excited that I come myself.
Did that ever happen? Don't I wish!
Quickies
-I fantasize about my older brother. He has a bigger cock than mine and I have always wanted to suck it. I told him this, and he says I'm sick and hasn't talked to me for a year and three months.
-My secret dream is to pop the cherry of my little cousin. He's eleven, and a doll! I baby-sit for him, and we tumble around. I always get a stiff hard-on when that happens. He's got a cute cock. Already you can tell it's going to be a big one.
-I am thirty-three, unmarried, live alone. My youngest brother-we are a family of seven children-is seventeen. I have never seen him naked except when he was a baby. He wears real tight blue jeans and has a beautiful set of buns. It sounds sick, but I feel that I'd like to just pull those pants down and fuck him in the ass.
-Secret? I fuck my brother. But the only person it's a secret from is him, because he died a few years ago. I fuck him, though. His spirit comes into the room late at night and we fuck like rabbits. Sometimes he manifests himself in guys I meet in public Johns. He's a part of me, and I fuck him.
-When I was growing up, I had a great-uncle who urged me to play with myself as I dressed or took a bath. Mother and Father never knew this. He was a kindly old man who received pleasure from looking at my genitals. One day I let him suck my cock, and he continued to do it every single day until he died, when I was sixteen. Since then I've had dream after dream of a man like him sucking me. I am attracted only to older men.
-I'm on a battlefield, and I run into a ditch and find only one soldier. He's hurt. I see he's alive and ask what has happened. He says he was stunned by a bomb. Then he says the only way I can make him better is to go down on him. So I pull his long dick out of his green Army pants and take it in my mouth. Shells fly overhead. I don't care. I suck him off, and the hell with the war. Then, later, after he's come in my mouth, I realize he looks exactly like my brother back home.
-I'm a twin. We're both gay. I'm nellier than he is. We used to have sex, but now he has a lover. I dream of tying his lover to a post and burning him to death. Like Joan of Arc. I'd like to see his balls go up in smoke. Then I could have my brother back. I love his cock, because it looks exactly like mine.
-I dress up in my younger brother's clothes. They fit so tight, I automatically cream in them. I think deep down I really want to make it with him. We aren't close. I have had wet dreams where I am sticking my cock into his mouth in front of my mother.
-A lot of men will say they are searching for the father figure, a man like their old man, or a man who never was their old man. I am literally searching for my father. I saw one picture of him-naked, hard, on a bed in a crummy motel. I found it in my mom's locked drawer, which I busted open. I wanted to find out who he was. I never learned the name, but I have his body memorized. His cock is the only cock I see when I beat off.
-All in the Family is my bag. We are four brothers. Three of us are gay. Not a bad batting average, eh? We have participated at gay orgies together, but never just the three of us. I want to fuck Brad and have Davie fuck me at the same time.
-This is strange, telling a total stranger this. See, I'm not interested in men, except for one-my brother. He made a male porno film, and I got up the guts to go see it. He got screwed with a big plastic cock by another guy.T didn't get excited by it. It made me sick. But when I went to bed that night, I woke up in a cold sweat. I had dreamed I was the one sticking that thing up his ass. I keep having that nightmare again and again. And I come each time. I can't control it. Does it mean I want to screw my own brother? You don't know how fucked up I am because of this.
-I will say this with self-assurance, because you are not going to tell me I'm out of my mind, as many of my friends have done. I live alone with my son. He's twenty-one and a beautiful boy, but he is a bit slow, a bit retarded. To make him happy, I suck his cock to give him full sexual pleasure. I do not feel at all bad about this, since it is normal for us.
-Giving my grandson and his playmates a hand-job-my secret desire is doing that to them. I used to do it to the basketball team I belonged to years ago. Never my mouth, just the hands. I guess you'd have to say I just like poundin' the pud.
-My uncle and his lover and I have sex regularly. My fantasies are centered around that. We do it under the dining-room table at my grandparents' house at Christmas. We fuck in the back seat of my dad's car as he and my mom have an argument up front and don't notice. Hal and his lover stick their cocks into my mouth at the same time when we go into the bedroom to "talk" whenever the family is gathered. We once did it on an airplane, in the toilet, all three of us. We were so cramped the come was all over us and the mirror. A woman saw the three of us come out at the same time and almost passed out
CHAPTER FOUR
S&M
As was indicated in "Pain and Pleasure" in Part One of this book, sadomasochistic fantasies are healthy and normal. They are usually divided into two kinds: the fantasist pictures himself as the S or as the M-he is either dominating or being dominated. With rare fantasists, he is in both positions. The important thing, as I pointed out in the introduction to "Pain and Pleasure," is that the fantasist is experiencing pleasure.
And as with straight S&M dreaming, the ultimate pleasure is psychological. The toys and belts and urine and whatever trappings the fantasist suggest are only tools by which to humilate or be humiliated. And humiliation is in the mind first, not the body.
A gay man asked me, "Why do most people think homosexuals are into S&M a lot more than straights?" I pondered that question and asked it of many people I knew. I think the answer lies in the fact that it seems just a bit more visible in the homosexual stratum of life-the men with the ripped jeans and thick belts and the keys hanging at their side (which denote, depending on which side the keys are worn, if the person is a master or a slave) and the leather wrist bands. It is my feeling that the man who asked me the question was correct in saying "think" as opposed to something like, "Why are homosexuals into S&M more than straights?" They are not, but that people "think" they are is true. In my interviews I found just as many straight or bisexual men who had the need to dominate or be dominated. I found equal numbers of men who wanted to be whipped and tied up and abused. I found equal numbers of men who wanted to tie others to a slab of wood and slap the hell out of them. Homosexuals are no more into sadomasochism than anyone else. If people think they are, it is only because they are not as afraid of hiding it as their heterosexual brothers. Gay leather bars abound, and the dress code is quite strict-the ultimate masculine image. Straight men keep their sadomasochism in the closet for the most part.
In the closet or out, what we are concerned with is fantasy. You can dress like a Hell's Angel for all we care, or you can wear a tweed suit and button-down collar. It's the sadomasochism in your mind that's important.
Again, dream away.
Carl
Carl is very much in love with Brian. They are both employed by a large hospital in Dallas, both in their early thirties, and have been more or less together since college. Some people would call Carl's fantasy life bizarre. Others would say it is tame. I find it, at least, fascinating, and very suitable as an opening to this chapter. Remember, this is no motorcycle freak talking, no grease monkey with muscles and the absence of a brain. He drives a Toyota and wears a white uniform and has a happy smile and gentle eyes. Remember that the physical person rarely fits the fantasy.
Do you have an active sex life? Very.
Do fantasies play any part in your sex life? Oh, sure. I'd say a big part. I've lived with four different men in the past fifteen years, and fantasies existed with all of them.
Did you have love relationships with all four? Yeah. The man I live with now, Brian-I'm very much in love with him. I think I know what you're getting to. You want to know how or why a person in love has fantasies. You want to know why being in love and getting it on together isn't enough, right?
You'd make a good interviewer. Yeah, I would. No, I'm kidding. I usually find it hard to ask questions, to probe into people's thoughts. I'd rather do the talking.
Tell me about your fantasies-what kind, when, how often, their importance. Jesus, that's a heavy load. Okay, let me start the ball rolling by saying they are very important God, people just dry up without imagination, without using a little creativity in sex. You can suck a cock just so long and get off on the physical pleasure of the act, until your brain cries out for something more stimulating. When you have a lover, I think having wild fantasies can help you sex life because it makes you a better bed partner. Your cock will be harder if you're thinking about some hunky dude with a cock down to his knees making you kneel down in front of him and suck his dick. Maybe you'll be a better fuck if at the time you're fucking you're thinking of a guy sticking his whole hand up your ass. Take this, for example: I fucked Brian last night. He has an ass that won't quit. His cousin fucked him when he was about fourteen, and since then he's been dicked every week at least. But he's as tight as a virgin. While I was fucking him I started to let my mind wander, and I pictured us standing up on the top of a mountain, naked and cold, my cock up his ass to the hilt, and I was reaching around and jerking off his thick tool in the wind. The fantasy became so strong, I told him to stand up, and we fucked that way. Now, we were in the bedroom, but I really thought we were on top of that mountain. And when I came, I just about fell over. Jesus, I was shaking and sweating. I felt his cock shaking and spurting in my hands, and I could see it flying in the wind through the pine trees. We were wet with sweat, but I could really feel that cold wind blowing over our bodies. Man, he said it was the best time in weeks. My jism was still dripping out of his asshole this morning. I know. When we got up, I -rimmed him and sucked on his beautiful hole for almost a half-hour. God, but he has a beautiful ass.( You should see it in a pair of jeans.
Do you have fantasies only when you're having sex with Brian? Not only Brian. We both trick a lot. It keeps us happy and makes us appreciate each other more. I know a lot of people can't understand that, but it's true. For us, at least. No, I don't fantasize only when I'm having sex. Sometimes I meet a trick, and I don't need any fantasy. I say to myself, "Jesus Christ, this guy is a fucking fantasy!" Hung like a horse, nice muscles, and an asshole that won't quit. Who needs a fantasy? But he might well become a fantasy the next night when I'm with someone I'm not all that crazy about. But I have fantasies all the time, even when I'm working. I'll be sitting there trying to concentrate on my work, and then I'll find myself thinking of a cock. Not a guy specifically, just a cock. I think about how the head is shaped and how long the slit is and how much come spurts out. I even think about it spurting or flowing in one long stream. I can get off on that thought for hours. Doesn't get my work done, but it sure makes me horny.
Do you masturbate? Yeah. Not a lot, 'cause I like to have sex a lot. But when I jerk off, it's always with a fantasy. I think I have the heaviest ones when I jerk off alone. Not when Brian and I do it together, which we do sometimes.
What do you mean by heaviest ones? Well, the kind of things I would never do. You know what I mean? Things that I couldn't even tell Brian excite me.
Such as? Well, water sports. I've just been getting into that It happened in a weird way. I went to a party and saw a straight sex movie. Crappy flick, but one sequence was hot. A chick shoved a beer bottle up her cunt, and some of the beer went up her. A beer douche. Then she stood up and pulled the bottle out of her, and a hunky dude came up and knelt in front of her, in front of her cunt, and opened his. mouth. Then she took a goddamn shower of a piss! All over his head, drenching him. I was fucking astonished. Honest, I'd never seen anything like that. In fact, I had never even seen a girl take a piss, ever. The guy drank it and smiled and then even spit some of it into the air like a fountain.
So you've had fantasies about women urinating? No, not at all. See, after she was done, it was his turn. He stood up, and she knelt down and she licked his dick and held it pointing at her mouth, kind of egging him on to piss on her. Finally he let a little spurt shoot, and it got her in the forehead. She went crazy. Then he started pissing real hard, and she drank it right down. It also ran down her body, and I felt my cock getting real hard watching him piss. A few times in bathrooms I got hard watching guys piss. I thought it was 'cause I was seeing their cocks, but now I think it really was 'cause they were pissing. So I dream about a guy pissing on me when I masturbate. I think Brian would say that's sick. He's open-minded, but not that open-minded.
Maybe Brian is having the same fantasy? Hey, that would be wild. I never thought of that.
What other heavy fantasies do you have? Crazy ones. Me being able to fly, and I soar over a bunch of dudes at the beach and I jerk off and cream on them. Told you they were crazy. Or I'm the center of an orgy-they all are in line on their knees to suck my cock. Or being tied to the top of a car-don't ask me why-and some guy is shoving a tire iron up my ass. All kinds of S&M things. I'm always the M, and I know that's crazy, because I have a very strong and masculine self-image in life.
And these are mostly masturbation fantasies? Yeah. Oh, once in a while I'll flash on some big dick whipping my face just when I'm gonna come in Brian, but it isn't often. I like to think of more gentle, romantic sex things when I'm getting it on with him or any other dude.
So you have a very active fantasy life. What do you say to people who don't? First, I don't believe it. I mean, I don't believe that people don't have fantasy lives. They have to! Why does pornography sell? Why do people go to dirty movies? It's all fantasy. You see yourself doing those things. Things you usually don't do yourself. And if there are people who don't have fantasies, I think they should get some. But, you know, I don't think it's a matter of people not having any. I think it is people stopping themselves from having any. I know a guy who has a lover, and we were rapping about sex one day and he told me he never thinks about anything when they're getting it on except what they're doing. He said he wanted to, it would be easy to, but he would feel guilty. He would feel like he was cheating on his lover. That's limiting yourself. And I don't think anyone should do that.
Will you ever act out your fantasies? Hell, I sure hope so. I've already done some things I used to only think about. And if I act out the new ones, I'll just think up some wilder ones to replace them.
Mike
Mike works in a factory, loves to drink beer, says his idol is Clint Eastwood, and is an avid fan of old westerns on television. His fantasy will emphasize that point. He says pain turns him on, the thought of it. He's never done anything as overt as his fantasies, but he insists he likes "pulling hair and slapping ass" when he's in bed with another guy. He said that S&M fantasies are beneficial, "like violence movies." Mike insists people get the violence within themselves out of their systems by seeing violent movies; same with violent fantasies.
-I am tied to a post by an Indian warrior. He slowly rips my buckskin jacket from my body, and I am bare-chested in the moonlight and the light of the campfire. Then he opens my leather trousers with a flick of his knife and yanks them down to my ankles. My cock begins to get hard, and he whacks it with his hand. It hurts. Then he cuts a little marking on my chest, and the small trickle of blood runs down to my navel. He licks it off me. He does the same to himself and tells me we are blood brothers when he presses his hard, dark-skinned chest to mine. My cock is all the way hard by this time.
Then he goes to his knees and starts sucking my balls. He doesn't touch my cock, and the tip feels as though it's going to burst. I beg him to touch it, but he won't. He sucks my balls one at a time, and jiggles his finger up into my asshole, way up inside me from between my legs. I get so excited I come in the air, splashing his red face with my white come. I can't help it. I'm too turned on.
He gets very mad and unties my hands from the post. He orders me to lift his loincloth and suck his cock. I lift the cloth, and he has about nine inches, but it is not hard. I start to suck the delicious big-headed organ, and I find it grows to thirteen inches. I can't get it all in my mouth, no matter what I try. He gets mad and hits me, knocking me down into the dirt. Then he mounts me and begins fucking me with no lubrication. He even throws some dirt on my ass so it will hurt more. It feels like a sandpaper cock. Finally he shoves the last four or five inches inside me, and I think it's going to come out my mouth. I have never felt anything reaching so far into me. My cock gets hard again in the dirt as he licks the back of my neck. He keeps pumping like he's riding a wild horse, until he is ready to come. Then he pulls out fast, flips me over, and squirts it all over my face and chest. The wound where he cut me is soothed with his balmy fluid. He slaps his wet and softening cock on my chest as I desperately try to lick the gobs of cream off my cheeks. Then he kisses me, his tongue sliding into my mouth, and we roll around in the dirt in our love and passion. Then we fuck some more, any pretty soon I don't want any cock smaller than his inside my ass.
Denton
Denton says his S&M fantasies come from being brought up in the suburbs, "where there was no such thing as violence." Whether or not that is true, his fantasies certainly are vivid. He's the manager of a baseball team in the summer, and teaches high school the rest of the year. He's thirty-eight and lives alone.
-I'm in the bathroom. I just finished a baseball game, and I'm all sweaty. I strip off my jock and stand there looking at myself in the mirror. I get a hard-on and call in one of the boys from the team. He's my slave, my body slave. I tell him to lick the sweat off my balls. He gets down on his knees and tongues my nuts. I slap him across the face because he licks my cock head, and I didn't give him permission. I tell him my ass is all wet and musky, and he begs to suck it. I won't let him. He's kneeling there with his cock sticking out his pants and dying for a taste of my masculine asshole. I like to see him beg.
I tease him a little with my ass, spreading it in front of him so he can get a look at the hairs curled with sweat and the smell of it after the workout. I get into the tub, and I tell him to wash me down, to clean my asshole real good. I rum on the cool water, and he kneels down with the sponge and soaps up my buttocks, pressing his head against them as, he covers them with suds. He spreads the cheeks and wipes real hard and then rinses me. He sticks his head in there and slides his tongue up my hole, making sure I'm immaculate. Then he stands up and washes the rest of my body, and I finally kiss him. I pull his wet pants down and grab his cock, and he comes the minute my hand touches his cock. I make him lick up his own cream from the sliding glass doors.
When I get out of the shower stall, he towels me dry. I let him suck on my cock a little, and then I order him to lie on the floor with his mouth open. I kneel above him, my balls still wet, letting them move on his lips. I point the head of my cock to his mouth, and I cream like a racehorse, filling his mouth with come. He gags and swallows and moans in pleasure. He begs for my cock, but I won't let him suck it. I just pump all the jism out of it above his lips.
Then I order him to get me a pair of undershorts from my drawer. He holds them as I get into them, and he stuffs my thick cock down into them and arranges my balls so I'm comfortable. He kisses my cock through the white shorts without permission, and I swat him across the face again. He reels across the room, his cock hard again, and starts beating off. I call one of the other boys in and order the slave to suck him off. Then I leave and come back hours later and find the slave sitting in the corner of the bathroom, looking terrible. He has been forced to suck off the entire team after I left. He was fucked by four guys in a row. I turn him over and fuck him there on the floor of the bathroom until he finally comes again and passes out from pain and pleasure. Later, when he comes to, he crawls into bed with me and falls asleep with my cock in his mouth.
Dick
Dick drives a bus for a children's camp in Minnesota. He lives with his parents and is studying for the ministry.
-I am driving in a rainstorm. The bridge is out, and a tree has fallen behind us. We're trapped in the bus, three teenagers and I. They depend on me and know I can lead us to safety, and they also know they must obey me. I tell them the best thing to do is wait in the bus until the rain stops. I order them to take their pants off and he spread-eagle on the floor of the bus, in the aisle. I fuck each one of them, slowly, while the other two look over their shoulders and watch, horrified and yet excited. I'm excitedr I'm going crazy with passion. They are crying with pleasure. The lightning flashes out, and thunder shakes us. They are scared. They want my cock. It means contact to them, it means protection. They will do anything for me. I sink my cock into the second boy, and he pulls away. I grab him and throw him out into the storm, and he is scared. His cock is hit by rain, and he screams. I let him back in and sit down on his face until he sucks my asshole. I order the third one to lick my cock slowly. Each time the thunder crashes, he takes more of it. Crash! Down to the throat! I come all over his face and pull him up off the floor. I turn around and suck him off, then the other two. Then I let them put their pants back on, and I carry them through the water to the other side of the river, to safety. They never tell what happened, because they know I saved their lives.
Aaron
Aaron writes a newspaper column on politics. He's married to a woman who has been a leader of a lesbian movement in their city. His fantasy includes teenagers also, but this time it is the fantasist who is being dominated.
-There's this boy. He's in his teens. He has big shoulders and a slim waist and thick thighs. His cock isn't to be believed. It's massive. His balls match. Big, hairy, hanging low. His cock is sculptured, the head bigger than a giant mushroom. He sees me walking down the street and calls me over to him. He asks if I would like to see his collection of dirty movies that his big brother gave him. Sure, I say. We go to his room. His mom and dad aren't home. He locks the door.
He shows me some of the most unbelievable porno I've ever seen. All of it male-male. Men fucking boys, and boys pissing on each other, and gang fucks, and daisy chains, and two boys kissing while an older man has both his fists up their assholes. When I look up, I see that the young stud is standing in a leather jock strap and wearing leather gloves. He orders me to undress down to my shorts.
I obey him. I'm fascinated by this master who is young enough to be my grandson. I want to see his cock badly. I haven't seen it yet, only in his pants against his leg. I would die to see it. Pay any money. I get harder than ever, anticipating what is beneath that black jockstrap. He takes my clothes and tosses them out the window as I stand there in my shorts.
"On your knees, you fucker," he says. I obey. He abuses me with language, calling me a fucker and a fairy and a cocksucker. He asks me what I want him to do to me, and I say, "Make me your slave, beautiful master." He whips me across the mouth and tells me not to answer unless he gives me permission.
He pulls out tit clamps and puts them on me. The pain is great, but it increases my desire for him. He pulls the jock down so I can see the thick dark pubic hair right to the top of his cock. I tell him I want to see him naked, that is all I ask. He tells me to crawl along the floor. I do. He kicks me. He opens the door to the hall and shoves me out. He handcuffs my hands behind my back and pushes me down the stairs. At the bottom, he kicks me and then presses his leather jock to my face and I feel excited and rejuvenated. He tells me to climb up. I start to, on my knees. Every third stair, he kicks me in the ass, sometimes in the balls, and I see stars.
Finally I reach the top. When I'm back in the bedroom, he pulls the jock down and turns around. I get only a glimpse of his magnificent organ. I'm panting. I want him to hit me with it, to fuck me with it. I beg for him. I sit up like a dog. I bark. He walks backward, and I kiss his ass. It tastes like honey. I watch as he spreads his legs and I see his huge nuts. They swing between his legs. I reach up and kiss them. I take them into my mouth and try to swallow them. He is beating off. He turns around, and I see the black-leather-gloved hand on the shaft of his cock. I nearly pass out. It is at least eleven inches long. The slit in the head must be an inch! He hands it to me and I taste it, and he pistol-whips my face with the huge thing. Tears run down my face, tears of happiness.
Finally he kneels behind me and in one fast, hard, awful stroke, stuffs all eleven inches into my ass. I yell out in pain. He's pulled the shorts down to my knees, but not off. He pulls his huge cock out and slaps me across the face for making noise. Then he pulls the shorts completely off me and stuffs them into my mouth, telling me this way I can yell all I want. So he goes around behind me and again sticks his giant cock into my red asshole. I feel as though someone just shoved a telephone pole up me. I scream, but my mouth is stuffed. I choke on my own words.
I feel him ramming me, his leather gloves kneading my shoulders, his moans filling the room. He comes, and I can feel the hot come running down the insides of my legs. I feel myself coming, and we fall to the floor of his room and everything goes black, and that's all I can remember....
Short Takes
-My slave is eating my asshole. The delivery boy comes to the door and gives us the pizza. I'm naked, with my cock hard, and he eyes it with a smile. He doesn't have any change, so I tell my slave to give the kid a blow-job, and the boy gives me a whole dollar back. I eat the pizza while I watch the kid getting sucked off at the door. It tastes better that way, with something to watch.
-The guy next door is a hunk. He and his young wife moved in about three weeks ago. I watch him walk his dog every night in his Bermuda shorts. I see a thick basket under that material. I envy that girl. I've tried to peek in their windows, but no luck so far. I dream that I'm his dog and that he's walking me every night. If I'm good, as a reward I get to suck his big cock.
-I fantasize being tied up in a men's room and having all the guys come in and jerk off onto me.
-I think about a big stud fucking me while riding on the subway. I feel the movements of the train on his cock in my hole.
-Adjoining rooms in a hotel. I come into my room, and I'm dressed in an Eisenhower jacket and army boots. In the room next to me is a blond boy wearing nothing but a dog collar. I open the door connecting the rooms just a little and stick my cock through the doorjamb. He sucks me off, and I close the door and listen to him whimper on the other side like a little dog.
-I go through my neighbor's garbage. You can learn a lot about people from their trash. I find all this outrageous filth, dirty pictures and male magazines with all the cocks circled in red. Letters from little boys who want to have more lessons from him in how to be good slaves. Hmmm, I say to myself. I go and rap on his door and tell him I'm selling boy-scout cookies. He drags me in, strips me, and makes me lick his boots. I lick right up his jeans to his fly and get that giant tool out in a second. He slaps my ass all the time I suck his huge thing. After he's done fucking me, he takes me outside, bare naked, and tosses me in the trash where he found me.
-I get a hard-on every time I think about a hustler. I see one on the street and conjure up all kinds of things of what he would do to me. I want to be abused by one, made to feel like a turd. I want to be ruled and dominated. My roommate now is too mushy. He isn't commanding enough. I need someone to order me and beat me when'I'm bad and punish me and reward me with punishment when I'm good. I think paying a hustler to do that would be the way to make it work.
-I hustle. It's a fuckin' drag, man. Get your dick copped ten times a day, and then what? They're all so scared, you go to a motel and they put ten locks on the fuckin' door. I start orderin' them what to do and they get all fuckin' bent outta shape. You know what I mean? They think you're gonna pull a fuckin' knife or somethin' or rip them off. I like being the guy who tells what to do, I like orderin' my tricks around. I like guys who wanna be used, guys you have to order to suck your dick and bend over and get fucked. But I never find anyone into that much. I have better times dreamin' about it when I'm back in my room. Hustlin' is for shit if you're lookin' for a good time with sex. The money is okay, but otherwise it's for shit. How come nobody who picks up me or any of my buddies is into real S&M?
-I wear a tight cock ring each day. My cock stays hard all through business meetings, lunch, and theater at night. By the end of the day I'm so hot and excited my purple organ explodes come across the bedroom!
CHAPTER FIVE
Bathroom Sex
This could very well be put under the S&M heading, but urolagnia and associated fetish fantasies are not always connected with sadomasochism. Bathroom sex, in a simple definition, has to do with urine and excrement and/or having sex in a bathroom of some sort. An interesting thing has happened with urolagnia (or "water sports," as it is called) in the past few years: it has gained in popularity.
Or has it? My guess is that fantasies concerning the act of urination have been around forever. It's just that now, with the new freedom in sex and the open-mindedness that is growing across the country, people are not as afraid to talk about it. Or even try it.
One of the men I talked to about water-sports fantasies said, "Water sports are to homosexuals as homosexuality is to straights." He was telling me how hard it was to find another person who was willing to participate or at least experiment in a water-sports scene with him. He said he felt that most gay guys had fantasies about either being urinated upon or urinating on someone else at one time or another, but some taboo kept them from admitting it. "Just like straights who have stabs of gay fantasies but won't admit it." He asked me if I found many men admitting to having "wet" fantasies; I answered that some mentioned it in passing, others went into it in detail, but the majority did not. He said, "Well, as long as some mentioned it, you'd better include it in that book!"
So I have included it, and we'll begin with his fantasy:
Denis
Denis is from Oakland, California, and is thirty-one. As you already know, he is heavily into water sports as a sexual stimulus.
-Bathroom sex is my bag. I used to apologize for it to a roommate who didn't understand, but I learned that the problem was his, not mine. I like what I do and don't give a fuck who cares. I visit all the notorious men's rooms in this town. They are in movie theaters and public buildings (one is even in the police station, can you dig that?) and parks. The one in the park is wild. I go there almost every day. It's usually a group scene, with two or three guys doing something and a bunch of others standing around playing with themselves. Voyeurs. It works out fine. It's cool.
Last time I was there I started to piss at a urinal. The kid next to me reached out and held my hand and then grabbed my cock as I pissed, aiming the stream at the wall, not into the pisser. So I turned, and he held my cock up, and I pissed across the room, right into the fucking sink. I got applause for that. Then the kid went down on me, kneeling in his jeans, and I held his curly head in my hands as I watched the other guys all staring with envy. The kid was a beauty. He sucked like crazy, and finally got my pants down to my knees. A guy came up and started rimming me at the same time. Then a strong-looking fellow came in and said, "Wow, what a trip in here!" or something like that. He said he wanted to fuck someone. So' the kid sucking me said he wanted to be fucked bad, and he pulled down his tight Levi's so the stud could get into his ass. He fucked him there on the cold concrete floor, right there in the puddle of piss. I squatted down, and the kid finished sucking me off as he was getting a good fucking from the stud. I noticed the guy who had been rimming me was coming just when I was, and so I took his load.
Another time I fucked three guys in a row as they bent over the sink in a bathroom. I even go into straight bathrooms and sit in the stalls and watch through the crack as guys pee. I like looking at cocks, any size, shape, or color.
Once I gave a cop a blow-job, but I didn't know he was a cop till I saw him later in a squad car with his uniform on. Some cops love to get sucked. I really dig sitting on a toilet with my cock hard and sucking off some beautiful kid who comes in for a fast blow-job. I've spent afternoons sitting on the same toilet, taking one hot cock after another. I get so much come in me I think I have enough protein for a lifetime.
Bathrooms turn me on. I get a hard-on every time I walk into one. I even have wet dreams about bathroom sex. I often fantasize about fucking a guy and pissing into his ass at the same time. Just about every jerk-off thought I have has to do with that beautiful hot stuff streaming from the tip of a cock.
Terry
The following letter was sent to me in response to an ad in a gay newspaper, asking anyone to send in his secret dreams and fantasies. I think it is important to include it word-for-word, for it encompasses many fantasies and is an interesting document in studying the phenomenon of water sports. Once again, this preoccupation with urolagnia is not exclusively homosexual, although homosexuals seemed a bit more eager to talk about it and discuss it in graphic detail.
The letter you are going to read was a .carbon copy of a letter a man sent to someone he had corresponded with a few times. The note accompanying it said: "This is a copy of a letter I wrote a young guy I met through personal ads in-, the same place I saw your ad. I make carbons of everything I write, a habit I have at school. I never figured I would use it for this purpose, but if you want to know about fantasies and what a young gay guy is thinking, here is a good example. Best, Terry."
And this is the letter itself:
-Dear Bill, Just got your letter today. Thanks so much. It was really great, a real up just to read it. When I wrote you the first time, I wasn't sure what reaction I would get, and I pictured a few possibilities. Your letter exceeded even my highest expectations. Getting the pictures (which I appreciate very much and really get off on) was really the least of it.
It is really exciting to "meet" someone who shares a common interest like w/s and who seems to be such a nice person and into it in the same way I am. In a funny sort of way, I feel that I can really bare my soul to you about certain things, even though I only know you through a couple letters. This results from the fact that you accept in such a positive way this aspect of me that I feel a lot of people reject or are disgusted by. I think a lot of gay people regard water sports in the way that a lot of straight people regard gay sex, as something weird and perverted. While S&M and fist-fucking seem to be sort of in vogue now, liking piss still seems to be too far-out for most people. Of course, there are people who are more easygoing and take the attitude "If that's your thing, fine, but it's not my thing."
As for people who are into w/s, though I haven't had much contact with them, there seems to be a large element who are into it as part of an S&M trip. While I can see that certain aspects of S&M can be exciting, I'm really not into it very much, and my interest in w/s is not part of any slave role or need to be humiliated. At least, I don't approach it that way consciously. (As for the unconscious motivation or why I like it, I haven't really thought about it very much. It might be an interesting thing for us to exchange ideas about sometime.) All I know is that I really get off on it, and I really don't give a shit what anybody else thinks about it, I like it. At least, as far as my own head and my own value system is concerned, that's the way I feel. I have had some problems with the person I live with, because I've felt negative feelings about my being in w/s from the point of view of his value system, and I care a lot about his opinions. But after talking about it, we've gotten to the point that he just accepts the fact that I'm into "raunchy things," as he calls it, and I don't feel bad about it at all.
So much for the negative things. No, I'm not a dirty old man jerking off, I'm a dirty young man jerking off, and it's great to think that we get off on the same things. Your description of how you got into w/s was really a turn-on. I think I got into it by hearing about it and reading references to it in porno books. The idea just turned me on, and I started to be open to finding ways to try it. The first things I did were just with myself. I would piss on myself in the shower, and I got more and more into it, spraying myself with the piss before turning on the shower, and I got more and more into it, lying down and shooting a stream up in the air, soaking my chest, my crotch, my whole body. I even managed to stream some piss in my mouth and swallow it. The next thing that happened was the first experience with another person. It was in this very cruisy and active bathroom at a college here. (I don't know if you're into the bathroom scenes, but I can really get into it sometimes.) I met this very cute guy who was about eighteen or nineteen and started asking him in a vague way if he was into any "far-out" things. He finally said that he loved far-out things in bathrooms, including water sports. I got really excited and asked him what he had done. He said he had taken off his shirt, and sitting on the toilet with his pants around his ankles (naked from the ankles up), had a guy stand over him and piss all over his chest and crotch. The idea turned me on terrifically, and I asked him if he would do it to me. So he did. After getting a bunch of wet paper towels for cleaning up afterward, I went in the end stall and stripped to the waist. I opened the door, and he stood over me while I unbuckled and unzipped his pants and took out his beautiful cock. I sucked him for a little while, but not enough to get him too excited to piss. Then I leaned back and he gave me a tremendous golden shower. He pissed all over my chest and in my crotch. Then, while he continued pissing, I jerked off, the piss splashing over my hand and wrist as I jerked my piss-soaked cock off and shot a good load of come all over my wet stomach. Then he quickly jerked off on me too. So there I was soaked with piss and two loads of come. It was fabulous. I didn't have any trouble cleaning up and knew when I left the bathroom that day that I would surely want to do more.
This was about a month and a half ago, and since then I've only done one other thing with someone else, but a lot of self-indulgent fantasy trips in the privacy of my bedroom and bathroom and, as you know, some letter writing.
The experience was okay, but not fabulous, because the guy I did it with didn't turn me on as much. He was older, mid-thirties I guess, and his body wasn't that great. In spite of that, though, I went with him because I wanted to try more water sports, and it isn't every day that you meet someone who's into it. We went to his apartment, and for the first time I did some serious piss-drinking. While it was a little strange at first, and I had to ask him to stop a couple times, I basically did get off on it. It was such a new sensation to have a cock (and he did have a nice cock, thick and long, with big veins) in my mouth and then realize that my mouth was filling up with his piss. There was nothing to do but swallow it, so I did. And again and again and again. The idea of all this hot piss flowing from a nice cock into my mouth and down my throat really turned me on. Just thinking about the idea of taking a guy's piss turns me on tremendously. (My cock is so hard right now thinking about it. Just the idea of being into piss is a turn-on, the way being gay is when you come to accept it not only as just okay but as the fabulous thing that it is. It's exciting to think of being gay and all the great and sexy gay people in the world to share good times with. Of course, that's idealizing a lot, but I do feel that way sometimes. How great it would be to really get into a great piss scene with a really nice person or group of people.) Anyway, I pissed in his mouth too, although I had some trouble pissing because I wasn't used to it. All in all, I really enjoyed my first piss-drinking scene.
On the fantasy-trip side, this one guy I've exchanged letters with is really into pissing in Levi's and sent me a couple pictures of himself with his Levi's getting wetter and wetter. So I've tried it myself in front of a full-length mirror in an old pair of Levi's, and it is great. You feel the warm piss start to soak your crotch, then down the' pants legs and running down your legs and trickling over your feet. Of course, it would be so much better with someone else. I picture various scenes that I'd love to try sometime. I'd like to stand next to someone, both of us wearing old Levi's, open each other's flies, stick our cocks in each other's pants, and piss in each other's Levi's. Just there together and feel our pants getting soaked. Another variation would be to do that for a little while and then stand a little apart and stream the piss all over each other's clothes. Soaking an old T-shirt too, or without shirts, as I think the piss flowing over a bare chest and then into Levi's is really sexy. To add further variations (there's no end to my perverse imagination), I'd like to try it in different places, not just at home, but outside in the woods or a park, in a restroom, or even in really weird places like the deserted stacks of a library or anywhere you could get away with it. I guess it's my exhibitionistic side coming out, though I'm not into taking dangerous risks really.
Well, I must stop for now. I will try to manage to get a picture to send you, and would love to see a photo of you that includes your head, although I do enjoy the ones that don't, which I've been looking at while writing this, and getting hotter and hotter. Would love to see you when you're in town. Let me know more about your thoughts and fantasies and that wonderful cock of yours and that beautiful stream mat comes out the tip of it. There is much more I'd like to discuss with you and would love to hear some horny descriptions of your wild fantasies. They might come true!
Love and piss, Quickies
-I dream of a giant statue of a naked man coming to life and real piss coming out of his cock. I would bathe in it
-Urine turns me on. I sent away to a kid who mails his wet shorts to you for ten bucks. I put them over my head and beat off, and it was incredible.
-My lover and I are into the water-sports scene. We find It very exciting. We sometimes piss together when we come home from a movie or dinner. It's exciting just to stand at the toilet together. Sometimes we hold each other's pricks. We pee on each other in the shower. One time we woke up, and both of us had to piss. We didn't go to the bathroom. We just turned into a sixty-nine position and let the hot stuff flow into each other's mouths. We know how, with lots of practice, to take all the piss the other has to offer without dripping any of it Neither of us knows why, exactly, this thing thrills us so. But it does. It has put a whole new dimension into our sex lives.
-I fantasize that I'm in my skivvies and I'm kneeling above a kid who wants to be humiliated. I kneel and hold his hands down. My crotch is right over his face. I close my eyes and I start to piss. Right through the shorts. He goes wild and opens his mouth for every drop. Pretty soon a shower is running out of my shorts, and he's all wet, even his hair. I come as I squirt the last drops of piss from my cock head. He sucks the come out of my piss-soaked shorts.
-I fantasize when I'm lying in the bathtub. I hold my cock up and piss right into my own mouth. I dream that it is some beautiful man standing above me.
-I had a trick once. This guy was crazy. Looked like a Greek god, but crazy. Anyhow, we had a good night of sex. The next morning he made orange juice. Squeezed the real stuff. But before he handed me a glass, he asked if I had to piss. Sure. I always have to piss in the morning. He said to piss in the orange juice. In his glass. I was freaked. But I did it. I pissed in the juice until the glass was full, and then did the rest in the toilet. He drank it all down, and I got hard watching him. I was curious. I asked him to do the same thing. He did, and I drank it and really got turned on. Since then I'm really into water sports, but it's hard to find guys who will do a piss scene. Most of it has to be secret Dreaming.
-Once a guy asked me if I would piss in his mouth. No, he asked if I would like to piss in his mouth. I was at the beach, sitting on a blanket in a little cove. The section is very gay. I was really surprised. No one ever asked me to do that before. I had read scenes like that, water-sports scenes, golden shower scenes, in dirty books. But I never did one. So we went behind a rock, and it took me a long time, but I finally managed a few drops. He took them. It turned me on, and I got hard. But I was still able to piss. I squirted him all over. Now it's the thing I like doing most. I've even learned to drink it. It took a long time to get over what my mom taught me, that urine was bad and would kill you if you drank it. I always pissed on grass, and it never died. We're brought up with such inane prejudices.
-I like sitting in stalls in bathrooms and just watching all the different cocks pissing. Stream after stream. Airports and bus stations are the best. Sometimes a guy will realize what you're doing and piss right up against the stall door. You can lick the drops off the partition and taste his piss. I beat off like that all the time.
-I'm eighteen and I'm gay, but I've never had sex with another guy. I know I'm gay because I've been excited by men ever since I could remember. I just haven't been able to bring myself to do something physical with anyone yet. And I live at home still. I have had a good education in what is done, though. I read a lot of books, especially good pornography. I think my best fantasy is something that has to do with a guy taking a piss as I'm kissing him. I mean pissing on me or into my pants. I think the feeling of my legs getting hot and wet as he kisses me would be enough to make me come. I feel so good being able to tell this to someone! I've thought about it for a year, and I don't have a gay friend I can talk to. I sometimes pee on myself. I pee in my jeans just before I throw them into the washing machine when the maid is doing the laundry. I find it very easy to come when I'm covered with my hot piss. But it would be better if it was someone else's.
CHAPTER SIX
Potpourri
Here, as in the first part of this book, are various collected fantasies of the male erotic imagination. They don't fit specifically into other categories, but they belong in this collection. And, once again, how many of these are like your own?
Brud
Brud is the owner of a gift shop in San Francisco. He is forty-five and lives high on Nob Hill. Never married, he didn't actively "come out" until just three years ago.
-I think about everything I missed as a teenager. I had a groovy teenager the other day, a kid with a body that wouldn't quit and a mind to match. Together. We fucked for hours, and he still wanted more. I dream about being young again and standing out in front of a movie theater, say, or a hotel. A guy comes up and cruises me. I smile. He begins to talk, and asks me if I need some money. I say sure, and he shows me a twenty. He tells me he has a room in a hotel nearby, and we go there.
I stand against the inside of the door as he kneels down on the floor and takes my young cock out of my pants. I'm trembling with excitement. I want to see his cock too, to touch it, but I don't dare ask. Finally he pulls it out and strokes it. I look down and watch the head get all wet in his hands. He sucks me like crazy, and I come off in his mouth. Then he shoots all over the carpet. And I'm twenty bucks richer.
Bennett
Bennett works for a record company, in the promotion department. He not only told me his best fantasy, he gave me a few free, albums. He has two roommates, and they live in an imposing Victorian house in Philadelphia. He commutes to New York three times a week, and says most of his sex encounters are "quickies," done in rest rooms or on the train or in bars after work. He has never had a lover and says he doesn't think he'll ever have a permanent relationship, "because I don't want it." His fantasy, on the other hand, makes me think he really does.
-I'm walking through Central Park. I see a couple of guys cruising, but I don't pay much attention. I sit down on the grass near the lake and relax. It's a Saturday, and I'm in shorts and a light sweater-a tennis outfit, I guess you'd say. White sneakers and white socks. A man comes up, a young guy about my age, and sits near me, smiling. He's dressed in jeans and has his shirt tucked in his belt, hanging at his side. The sun gleams off his strong chest. I feel a tingle down in my balls as he looks at me and nods.
I get up and go over and stand next to him. He looks up my shorts to check out my cock, but it's in my jock. I sit down and see that he has quite a nice lump between his legs. But I see more than that-sensitive eyes, a smile that tells me he is really turning on to me. He doesn't say a word. He just reaches out his hand and I take it and we both feel our hearts pounding and our cocks trying to get out of our pants.
He tells me he lives nearby, and I get up and walk with him. We hold hands, not giving a damn what anyone says. I playfully grab his ass, and he smiles and tells me he likes that. Then he gets a feel of my hard cock inside the jock and tells me he likes that too. I'm stunned by his beauty. His eyes are like saucers of brown. Beautiful and intense. His dark curly hair flips over his brow and has golden highlights in the sun. I can't wait to get to his apartment. My legs are giving out from weakness.
We enter his apartment. There is a big sofa and lots of pillows and his little kitten. I hold the kitten for a minute, and as I'm playing with it, he kneels down in front of me and puts his hands around my buttocks. He pulls me to him, my cock pressing against his face. He kisses my legs and licks my knees and then pulls off my shorts. He stares at the outline of my cock in the jock and then yanks it down fast. My cock springs out, and he takes it in his mouth. I feel hot and dizzy, and I drop the cat and fall back to the sofa. He sucks my cock until I feel like I'm coming, and he stops and kisses me hard on the lips.
Then he stands up, and I unfasten his jeans and let them drop. He steps out of them and puts one leg up over the back of the sofa and one on the floor and sinks his long hard penis into my mouth. I take it and close my eyes, feeling his balls with my fingertips, as if I'm a blind person. I fed his asshole, hot and hairy, and slowly slide my finger up it He moans and begs me to fuck him.
I kick off the shorts and jock from my feet and spread my legs. He moves backward, and the head of my cock finds the opening of his anus, and he spreads his buttocks until I get the head into him. As I enter him, he comes down and kisses me and tells me he thinks he loves me. I tell him I love him too, and when I am all the way inside him, he reaches down and strokes his cock. Then he bends hard and takes the tip of his long cock in his mouth, and I'm amazed. I sit up and suck on it, and as I pump my own cock into his ass, he pumps his cock into my mouth. Finally, sweating, we come at the same moment, and we fill each other with a load of love.
We hold each other for hours there on the sofa, getting to know each other. We take turns sucking each other's cocks, every now and then. We make dinner together and then go out to a movie. In the theater he leans over and sucks me off again. I give him a hand-job. We walk home holding hands. When we get home, he feeds the little kitten and we make love again, right there on the kitchen floor, next to where the cat is eating. We finally get into bed, and we know we'll never be apart again, for the rest of our lives. We go to bed knowing that the next day will be the first day of our new life together and we'll start it out by fucking all morning. And that's the way we'll probably end it too!
Mick
Mick has worked, in this past year, as a go-go dancer, a waiter, an actor in an all-male porno film, a car-wash attendant (for one day), and as the houseboy to a rich man. He is currently unemployed. His aim is to become an actor. He's twenty-six and was selected Mr. Gay Chicago a few years ago. He has been living with the same boy for four years now and says they're very much in love. His parents have not spoken to him since 1969, when he announced to them that he was gay and proud.
-My jerk-off dream is that I'm calling someone on the phone and telling him everything Jade is doing to me. Jade is my lover. He's cute and skinny and has a big beautiful cock and the most fuckable ass you've ever seen. I dial the number, and the guy I want to turn on answers, and I say, "Hey, man, Jade is sitting here pulling my pants down off my body!" He says, "Oh, yeah ... tell me more." So I tell him how Jade has my cock in his hand and how he's working it up nice and hard. How the tip gets all pearly white and how he, flicks the come off with his tongue. I tell him how my balls feel in Jade's mouth. Then I lift my legs up to my head and Jade rims me, and I describe each sensation. I tell Jade to say how it tastes, and he yells into the phone that it's delicious. I order him to tongue my asshole, and the guy on the phone is beating off like gangbusters.
I tell Jade to strip. I describe his body to the guy on the phone. Then Jade kneels between my legs and holds our cocks together. He rubs them up and down, and I tell the guy about every move, every feeling. Finally Jade beats, me off, and I scream into the phone. The guy is going crazy. Then I suck Jade's cock as I hold the phone there. The guy can hear all the slurping, and he can hear Jade saying, "I'm coming, Mick, I'm fucking gonna cream in your mouth!" Then he shoots, and I gobble it all down, and I can hear the guy, passed out, in a coma, at the other end of the line. I hang up, and Jade falls into my arms and we go to sleep.
Cal
Cal works on his family's farm in South Dakota. He is twenty-five and hopes one day to write a book on animals. He has three dogs, two cats, a horse, and a pony. He says he's organized a kind of gay-liberation movement among farmers in his area, and insists that the meetings take place in the hayloft.
-I like to get cornholed by little boys. In their early teens. I give them marijuana, which I never smoke myself. Or I give them beer and sometimes pills, if they like downers. I like downers a lot. I like to grease up a boy's cock with some K-Y and feel it sliding into me as I lie on the floor of my house. I like hearing him make those noises in his throat as he shoves his small hard thing in me. I like feeling his tight little balls against my big hairy ones. I tell him to rip my back with his fingernails. I have him bite my shoulders. I tell him to move around on me so his cock twists in my asshole. I never let him come in me. I tell him when he's ready to shoot to tell me. When he does, I flip him over and take his cock in my mouth. I suck all the young-boy come out of his throbbing hard-on. It tastes like melted butter. He makes more noises, and I shove a finger up his ass just to make him come harder. He comes and comes and comes. Little boys Mke that have lots of come in their balls.
I had a kid once. He was fourteen. His mother's boyfriend had forced him to suck him off when he was only eight or nine. He had loved cock since then, on older men. He met me in the grocery one afternoon. I told him I would give him ten dollars to deliver my groceries, just up the block. He showed up about ten minutes after I walked in the door. For a while there, I was worried he had stolen my food.
He wanted to suck my cock. I let him. On the floor in the kitchen. Then he saw there was some chocolate syrup in my bag. He asked if he could make a chocolate ice-cream sundae. He meant with my cock. He poured the syrup on my cock and balls and licked it off. His face was covered with chocolate. He wanted a bath, so I bathed him like a baby. Washed his body and played with his very big cock for that age. Almost no hair, which excited me. I asked if he wanted to fuck me. He said he wanted to put his hand up my ass. I know about fist-fucking. But his fist was small, so I-wasn't scared. He greased it up with salad oil, and he worked it into my ass. It felt like a big cock. I came when I looked in the mirror and saw his elbow and then my asshole. And he was only fourteen.
I take pictures of all my boys. Polaroids. Not all the kids let me take their faces. Some I just snap their cocks and balls and asses. I have a big collection. Some are cocks sticking out of pants, or underpants. Some are swimming trunks. I even have one of a cute little guy in long underwear that his mother made him wear. I jerk off looking at the collection. Each picture brings back what we did. I can remember them in detail. If I could write, I would write a very stimulating sex book. I have a picture of a seventeen-year-old boy who has a twelve-inch cock. And another picture of him with all twelve inches up my ass. I have an automatic timer on my camera.
The thing I like the best is when I take a photograph while a boy is fucking me. If you have any photographs of young teenage boys with hard-ons and maybe fucking some older man, I would like to buy them. I can't get my cock hard unless I look at that kind of pictures.
Manny
-I saw my older sister shoving our electric toothbrush up her a few years ago. Since then I have loved the thought of something vibrating inside my ass. When I watched her, I stuck a finger up my ass and moved it around, fantasizing that it was the toothbrush. I've been masturbating with a big vibrator for the past year, and it's terrific. My ass seems to be so sensitive, my whole body shakes and feels pleasure. I don't like sex with another person unless the guy fucks me or at least sticks a vibrator or a dildo in me while he sucks my cock.
Jim
-I play like I'm the girl. This is with my almost-lover. I see him about three days out of every week. I sometimes dress up in a big frilly dress, but not really drag. I do it just for the good old fun of it. We pretend we are down South on a big plantation and I'm the belle. He seduces me by offering me some sugarcane and telling me I can suck on it. When I ask him to show it to me, he pulls out his magnificent prick. God, but he has a beautiful prick. It's shaped the way God meant pricks to look. Big and round and strong and manly. He goes under my skirt on his knees and sucks my cock after he tells me he's mad because I made him think I had a pussy. We really like silly games like that. It makes sex more fun.
Neil
Neil's particular fantasy has to do with one part of the male anatomy-the testicles. He's a swimming instructor.
-My lover has huge balls. They hang lower than any other guy I have ever seen. Even in movies, and I know, because I go to see all the dirty gay movies. My lover's balls are the biggest in the world. I suck them. That's my thing. In fact, I met him in the baths, not knowing who he was. It was dark, and we were in the orgy room. All I did was feel his nuts, and I knew I loved him. I got down on the floor and asked him to kneel over my face and drop them into my mouth. I suck them like they're a cock, running my tongue over them, feeling the hair on my lips. I even bite them sometimes. He digs it. He jerks his cock off while I'm sucking his nuts. Sometimes we sixty-nine, but instead of sucking his cock while he's sucking mine, I suck his nuts. You asked about fantasies. I would have to admit the only one I have is meeting a guy with bigger nuts than my lover's. And I don't think that will happen. If you ever hear of someone like that, let me know. I'll open my mouth right away.
Jamie
Jamie has the same interest as Neil.
-Testicles turn me on. It's hard to find men my own age who like to play around with their balls more than their cocks. I'm in my late thirties. Everyone sucks and fucks and masturbates. But no one places emphasis on the scrotum. It is an endless source of pleasure. Rub your balls, dip them into a pan of warm water or into the bathtub before you get in. Let them touch the cold porcelain of the toilet bowl. They will shrink and get hard. Then wrap them in a heated towel. They will hang low. I have a ball supporter, which holds my testicles but allows my cock to hang free. I also have cock-and-ball harnesses. Although I am not into any sadomasochism, they are wonderful things for ball freaks. The balls are pushed out from the body and held tight, and the feeling is exquisite. And when released, when you reach an orgasm you feel all the cream rushing from deep inside your nuts somewhere.
When I see naked men, in the flesh or on screen or in books and magazines, I immediately notice their balls. No, not notice. I look for them, first thing. I bought a paperback book the other day because it was advertised on the cover that it was the first paperback to have a male-nude centerfold. I flipped through it in the bookstore and saw that the guy's cock was okay, but his balls were enormous. They hang down far beyond the tip of his cock. Oh, I've fantasized about him, I can tell you that!
Testicles are beautiful. They have a life all their own. They move by themselves, unlike moving an arm or finger, when we know we're doing it. They shrink and shrivel up, almost until they are gone, and then sometimes they hang and bounce between your thighs. They can be hairy or completely free of hair. They are luscious, delicious. Like grapes on a vine, or two ripe peaches on a peach tree. I think they are the most beautiful part of the human anatomy, God's best work. But people seem to notice only penises. How limiting!
Kent
Kent also concentrates on one portion of the male anatomy.
-The asshole of a fifteen-year-old boy who is just getting hair. That is my fantasy. What would I do with him? I don't care about him, it's his asshole I want. Can't you imagine what I would do with him? Don't you have any fantasies?
Pete
Pete's fantasy is recollective. He works in an office and says he spends a great deal of time seeing an analyst.
-I think a lot about having a man standing over me, while I'm naked in bed, and beating me with a whip across my genitals, until I come. As a child, my father used to hit me many times with a belt whenever I did anything wrong. My ass was always black and blue. Sometimes he beat me with a wet rope. Once he tied me to a chair for two days. My mother would feed me when he wasn't around. When I was seventeen, I left home and went to five with an older man. He had been married, with a few kids, but he left his wife and children for me. He was good to me, but whenever I was bad, I begged him to whip me, and he did. Sometimes I did bad things on purpose just so he would hit me.
Jimmy
-I love photography. In fact, that's how I make my living, but commercial photography, and that can get a little boring. I like to imagine myself taking pictures of nudes. Nude guys, to be exact! I'd like to go up to the hills somewhere where its secluded. My model strips down, and I start shooting. All sorts of poses, some sexy, some pornographic. After I take all the pictures, my model and I go into one of the bedrooms, with a view, and I go down on him, while the time exposure on the camera is taking pictures of the two of us for my fast-growing collection of pornography. Then he goes down on me; more shots of that. We spend the rest of the afternoon doing each other and taking pictures of it.
Rand
-I picture myself as being able to suck my own cock. I work at it until I succeed in making my spinal column so flexible that I can take almost the entire organ into my mouth. I lie on the couch or the bed, and as my orgasm approaches, I roll and writhe and gasp in my own pleasure, curled up like some animal, until I come in my own mouth, and then I suck myself dry. I feel like some kind of hero.
Orin
-My mom had ten children, but they all died either at birth or at a young age, leaving me as the only remaining child. I grew up in the Midwest where my father was a doctor. He was a very strict disciplinarian, but never cruel. My mother would give me anything I wanted, and was always giving me money, even if I did something wrong. At a young age, I was giving blow-jobs to a friend of mine and spent a lot of time in mutual masturbation with him. My friend was always giving me little gifts after each time I sucked him off.
Now I think about myself as a male prostitute. I see myself traveling, from a "house" in Chicago to San Francisco. I'm successful in what I do, and many men seek me out. I'm considered one of the best "hired" cocksuckers on the West Coast.
Dan
-Even as a kid I hated fighting. I hated wars, and I never played soldiers, nor did I want to be a soldier when I grew up. Unfortunately, when the time came, I had no choice but to go. I didn't want to run to Canada. My luck sent me overseas and right into the midst of battle. I shouldn't complain, though, because I was one of the guys who didn't get hurt Now I'm home, and what do I do? I have these wild fantasies. I'm in a foxhole, dirty and tired. Bullets are whizzing by me, and I'm scared and alone. I see two guys crawling toward me on their bellies. I can see they're Americans, and I wave so they see me. They fall into my foxhole, exhausted, and suddenly we realize it's silent No more shooting, no more noise. We're alone. We start laughing, and I make a speech about "making love, not war," and with that, I unzip my pants and pull out my cock. Both guys try to get to it, and they play with it until it gets bigger and bigger. One guy shoves his finger up my ass, while the other soldier sucks on my exploding prick. And I'm sucking on the prick of the guy who has his finger in me. I feel myself ready to come, and just at the same time, the shooting starts again, going right over our heads, but this time it's not as scary as before. The funny part of this fantasy is that I'm straight, and aside from a little playing around in school, I've never had a homosexual experience. What's that supposed to mean?
Starfucking
Straight men do not have a monopoly on this particular area of secret sex.
-I'd give anything to find myself stuck in an elevator with Robert Redf ord.
-Harry Reems should stop sticking that beautiful dick into people like Linda Lovelace. He should start sticking it into me!
-Saw the Rolling Stones in New York last week. Jesus. You could see Jagger's cock right through those pants. I went home and beat off thinking he'd called me up on the stage and I'd gone down on him right there in front of all those people in Madison Square Garden. And they all envied me.
-Michael Landon's basket turned me on for years. It was the best thing on TV. I've fantasized about him hundreds of times.
-Do you think Joanne Woodward would give up Paul Newman for just a few hours? I'd do anything he wanted.
-Helmet Berger is my heartthrob. I keep seeing The Damned and him walking toward me in that bedroom, bare naked. ... Oh, I shiver thinking about it.
-Fantasies? Hell yes. Jan-Michael Vincent. Grant Tracy Saxon. Cat Stevens. Michael York. Need I say more?
-I think I'd give my life to go down on Geraldo Rivera!
-I get sexually excited when I think about Ryan O'Neal. The way he looked in Love Story, like a real college guy. I dream about walking into a crowded room and seeing him and telling him he can do anything he wants to me. We go into a closet, and he fucks me like no one's ever fucked me before.
-Any one of Gerald Ford's sons makes me go wild all over. I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. So many of my friends feel the same. We always talk about them-especially Jack-when we see them in the newspaper or in Time or something. I think they're our new folk heroes.
-I know I'm behind times, but I still have a David Cas-I sidy fetish. I've imagined doing everything there is to do to him-and more so.
-I saw Keith Carradine in bed with all those girls in Nashville, and all I have to do is pretend I'm one of them, and I come like crazy.
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PART THREE
BISEXUAL FANTASIES
CHAPTER ONE
Boys and Girls Together
Most replies to my advertisements in papers and my notices on college bulletin boards were from homosexuals and heterosexuals, clear-cut down the line. Only a small portion of men "reporting" freely told me a bisexual fantasy.
Then what of the "bisexual chic" phenomenon we've been hearing so much about in the past three years? I came to believe that bisexuality is indeed with us-it's a place where many men, I found out with some digging, want to he-but that sexual fantasies seemed to be strictly gay or straight. Even the fantasies of bisexual men tended to be one or the other. A man would tell me his fantasy, and it would be, let's say, exclusively heterosexual. I assume he's heterosexual, but I ask anyway. He says, "Hell no, I swing both ways." But his fantasy is strictly straight. "What's that got to do with anything?" he asks, and I don't have an answer.
I can't make any conclusions, nor do I even pretend to make presumptions. All I know is that a large number of practicing bisexuals-sorry that sounds so clinical, but I don't know any other way of putting it-had dreams that were straight or gay; rarely did they include both genders. Most homosexual men I contacted said they rarely if ever had a fantasy that included women (more on this later in this section). And straight men divided themselves into two groups: the machos (the guys who threatened to beat the shit out of me when I asked if they'd ever thought about getting it on with a guy at the same time they were making love with their girls) and the swingers (the guys who said that once in a while another guy crept into their dreams, but insisted they would never touch another guy in reality-which was all right by me, since it was fantasy I was interested in, not reality).
But then there were the exceptions, that percentage of each group of men who told me wonderfully imaginative fantasies that included men and women. Sometimes they were slanted one way or the other (as you will see), and sometimes they were evenly balanced (as you will also see). For some reason, young people, especially teens and children entered into bisexual fantasies. I sensed, with many men I talked to, that in their minds there wasn't a hell of a lot of difference between a young boy and a young girl. If you are into young, you're into young-penis or vagina, it doesn't matter. I wondered why. But then I realized that my place is not to wonder why, but to collect and report. One thing is certain: the highest percentage of pedophiliac fantasies were among bisexual men. There is a whole section devoted to them in this part of the book.
And so we come to the fantasies-fantasies told by men who are gay, men who are straight, men who don't know quite what they are, men who are bisexual, and, probably, men who have never even had a sexual experience by which they can gear what they are. No matter. The fantasies are the matter here, and they are, vividly, bisexual.
Quickies
Once again, the big question: What is your strongest bisexual dream? I asked that question of many men who professed to being bisexual, and the replies were interesting.
-Watching my old lady sitting on a dude's cock while she sucks me off.
-Taking a shower with a married couple, a muscular man and his big-breasted wife.
-Having two girls sucking my cock and balls while I suck some other guy's dick.
--Making a guy and a girl bend over the kitchen table and sticking a can of instant whipped cream into both their assholes and squirting them full of the cream. Then sucking all the stuff out of their assholes.
-Lying on a bed with rubber sheets and having a girl squat and pee in my mouth while at the same time another guy takes a leak on my cock, which I'm beating off at that moment.
-My girlfriend gives a better blow-job than the guy I'm seeing. I know that is against the old rule that says guys give better blow-jobs than women. Untrue, at least in this case. I've never made it with them at the same time, though both of them know about each other. What I'd like to do is have my girl blow me while I'm kissing my boyfriend. I love making love. I love passion and romance and lots of kissing and licking and biting. I could do that with Paul and at the same time feel Denise's wonderful lips working my cock to shooting. And when I came, she could do his too. He has a beauty.-I'm turned on by stars, couples. Ann-Margret and Roger Smith. Rita Coolidge and Kris Kristofferson. Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. I don't mean sexually, not all the time, anyway. But I dream of movie-star couples, or even political couples like Ted Kennedy and Joan. And I wish I could be in bed with them.
-Lapping up all the hot, funky jism that's pouring outta my old lady's cunt hole as some big sweating gorilla of a guy stuffs her with his giant prong of a dick.
-Standing in a toilet stall while a guy and girl, on their knees on both sides of the pot, suck my cock.
-Getting sucked off by a man and a woman at the same time. Like they're kissing and I happen to slide my cock in between their lips.
-Having a dyke and a fairy make me their slave, ordering me to walk like a dog on all fours. Letting them shove things up my ass, shave my body hair, and reward me with punishment when I have pleased them. A hard woman and a skinny, almost feminine man. I want to devote my unimportant life to making them happy.
-Suckin' a big juicy dick with a head so big it looks like one of them giant strawberries you see in markets sometimes. Then stickin' my head right into the raunchiest-smellin', pussy ever.
-Sticking my cock up a young boy's ass while he is fucking a girl for the very first time. He is a virgin in both respects. But not when I get through with him.
-Making love to my girlfriend while my best buddy gets down there and licks her cunt juice off my dick and stuffs his fingers up her to see what it feels like on my cock.
-Tits and ass. Tits on a fine woman, sucking them, playing with them. Hard buns on a guy, smooth hard-ass buns. Sticking my face between her tits and into his hairy crack.
-Fucking a policewoman while a cop shoves his nightstick up her ass.
-Having a girl and guy stick their fingers up my asshole at the same time!
-Jerking off onto the faces of some man and woman who are sitting in a theater watching a movie. Maybe they're making love or something. I walk up and squirt them both!
-Kissing a girl who turns into a guy. Feeling her mound of venus turning into a long hard prick. Pulling down a lace pair of panties to find a boy's cock. Meeting a guy with tits.
-Seeing a dirty flick with your girl and having the kid sitting next to you start beating off. You say, "Look at him!" to your girl and she says, "How'd he get in here, he's only seventeen!" But she keeps her eyes peeled on his dick. Pretty soon she starts feeling mine. She takes it out. The kid reaches over and touches it. My girl goes down on me, and what the hell, I go down on the kid. I never tasted another guy's cock. I think I'd like to do that.
-I watch three people getting it on in an apartment across the alley from mine. Two chicks and a guy. I like two girls doing it to each other and me at the same time. Me and my buddy Ron, we talked about getting a girl and having her suck us, suck our cocks, at the same time. Ron's my best pal. I could dig doing something with him. Something sexual, you know?
Cameron
Cameron said, "Hey, I've got a dirty fantasy for you."-I just got through working out in the gym. I'm sweating my balls off and smelling like old socks. I walk into the locker room and see this lovely piece of ass down on her knees. "Don't tell anyone I'm here," she whispers. I walk up and pull down my sweat pants. She smells my jockstrap and licks it, sucking on it to taste the salty sweat. Then she yanks it down, and my cock hits her in the face. She takes it in her mouth and gobbles it down, chewing on the hard tip, rubbing my balls with her soft fingers. Another buddy comes in and can't believe his eyes. I motion him over. He whips out his dick and sticks it to her. She sucks us both at the same time. We cream in her mouth together, and the come pours down her chin because she can't swallow all of it fast enough. Then we push her to the floor when we're done and piss on her. After we take our showers, she wipes our naked bodies with a towel and begs us to fuck her. We do, taking turns in her cunt. Then she sits in a corner of the room and gets herself off with her hand as we go down on each other. I suck his cock, and he sucks mine. When he comes in my mouth, I don't swallow it. I save it until he is done, and then I go over and kiss the girl and shove all his come into her mouth.
Butch
Butch's fantasy will be identified with by many many readers of this book-you do watch Johnny Carson once in a while, don't you?
Butch is a very average American. He was born and raised in the East, served in the Army, married a nurse after World War II, and, as five children came along, built up his own business in Rhode Island (heating and air-conditioning installation). Butch told me he went through a terrible time three years ago when his second-oldest son told him he was a homosexual and wanted to bring his lover home for the family to meet. Butch first threw him out of the house. Then he felt pangs of guilt. Why? Because while in the service he'd had a homosexual affair. And since then many of his fantasies included men, usually with his wife. Until his son put the subject of homosexuality into the open, Butch had wiped it from his mind, even to the point that he wouldn't admit to himself that he had bi-sexual fantasies. Finally, after sitting down and talking to his boy, he found himself ashamed for acting so rashly; indeed, soon after that, the boy brought his lover home with him, and both Butch and his wife have grown to love him.
Butch credits that experience with his "mental liberation." By that he means that now he can enjoy bisexual fantasies, free from guilt He says he hopes "it'll all get acted out one day ... before I'm too goddamn old!" Butch, I have a feeling it will.
-My wife and I are watching The Tonight Show in bed, as we always do. She's reading a book. I reach over to pinch her nipple, and find it hard. Then I let my fingers play with her cunt lips, opening them and closing them until she's nice and moist Then I put my head down there and start licking it, and pretty soon I feel her getting my dick out of my pajama bottoms. She licks it a little, and it makes me even more horny. So I really start eating her pussy. But it doesn't satisfy me, so I tell her I think it is a good idea if we call the bachelor who lives in the next apartment.
She calls him, and he comes over and strips. He gets into bed with us, and I watch him slide his big long cock into my wife's pussy. I help by rubbing his balls and tickling her asshole. Then I stick my head down there and take his big nuts into my mouth. He begins to moan and pounds his cock deep into my wife's pussy as he feels my wet mouth pulling on Ins balls.
He comes like a wild man and pulls his cock out so I can suck the rest of his juice. I give him a blow-job until his cock gets soft, and then I lap my wife's creamy pussy and suck in all his come and her honey. I stick a finger up her ass while I do this, because I know she likes it.
Then the guy flops out flat on the bed. He has a nice, firm ass. I grease my cock all up with lubricating jelly, and my wife holds his buttocks spread while I shove my dick all the way into his asshole. He moans and cries out in pain, and I fuck him hard, harder than I fuck my wife. She sits above his head, on the pillows, and forces him to stick his tongue up her quim, playing with her clit while he gets a good ass-fucking. When I come, my wife comes too, and the guy is sweating on the bed, his asshole full of my juice. Then we watch him as he goes into the toilet and sits on the can to let the come slide out of his ass. My wife gives him a blow-job when he does this, and he comes in her mouth while I beat off into his mouth.
Then we all go back into the bedroom and open a few beers and watch the rest of The Tonight Show.
Zach
Butch's fantasy-including another man along with his wife-is echoed by others; Zach is one of those. He isn't married, but wants to add others to his regular sex life with his girlfriend. If he can't do it in reality, it is easy to do in dreaming. The best thing about secret sex is that it is magical-presto, anything is possible.
Zach is in his early thirties and drives a mail truck.
-I am straight. Physically, I mean. I have made love only to women in my life. But my dreams include men. This started happening when I was in high school. I had a dream one night about a guy whose car I liked a lot. I dreamed we were sitting in his car, beating off, and that we touched each other's cocks and finally pulled on them just like our own. I woke up and realized I'd had a wet dream. It was my first one.
Since then I have always thought about men while I beat off. Often when I'm with a woman, I think of men too. I guess maybe sometimes when a girl's cunt isn't tight enough to stimulate my prick, I have to dream up things to get me off. I never let the girl know she wasn't the one that made me come. It was thinking of another guy kneeling over her face, letting her suck him off as he is kissing me. I have never been kissed by another male. Just thinking about it sends chills up my spine.
I guess maybe I should be more specific. I like to think about what it would be like to make love with two couples, my girl and me and another guy and chick. That would be great. If the guy wouldn't mind doing something to me, I wouldn't mind doing something to him. I would suck his cock while his girl is sucking mine. I would fuck him in the ass and stick my fingers up my girl's pussy at the same time. I would like to fuck a girl at the same time another guy is fucking her. I guess we would both have to lie down with our legs over each other. Our cocks would stand straight up together, like one giant cock. Then the girl would have to squat down and sit on our dicks. I guess it would be like sitting on a flagpole. I would like to feel the friction of his cock against mine in her pussy.
One thing I dream about a lot is a girl kneeling down. I am lying on my back under her, and my cock is up her pussy. She is bouncing up and down, her tits are rubbing against my chest. Then another guy kneels behind her, between my legs. He holds his hard, greased prick out, and she lets him slide it up her asshole. I've read where you can feel another cock through the membrane that separates a girl's ass and cunt. I think feeling another big dick in there would be incredible. And I would feel the guy's balls on my balls. What a way to come!
Kenton
Kenton has a very strong attitude about being asked questions that include the word "bisexual." I think his reply is one of the most interesting in this entire book.
-Bisexual fantasies? Oh, come on! Aren't you interested in kinkier things now? Last year was the year of the bisexual, now we've graduated to kink-chic. Whips and chains and garter belts-even on men-are in. People go to piss parties instead of pool parties these days. Look at the movies! Harry Reems's cock is as well known as Clark Gable's face. Not many people would recognize Marilyn Chambers' face, but they all could pick out her cunt.
Okay, bisexuality. That's what you asked about. I've been a bisexual-whatever the hell that is-for as long as I can remember. Hell, I was playing with pussies and with pricks back in high school and never felt chic. Now it's as though a medal of honor is bestowed on anyone who comes out and says they're swinging with both sexes. Big deal. Joan Baez tells the world she likes men and women. Who cares already?
Anyhow, whenever I dream or fantasize or get into my wishful-thinking state of mind, I tend to have what you would call bisexual dreams. But they're really very kinky, because a night of just sucking and fucking, be it with guys and dolls or with horses and .pigs, is just a night of sucking and fucking. Where's the fun in it?
I prefer men. I live with one. A woman, I couldn't live with. All those nylons lying around. You know. But a man is fine. However, men alone don't please me sexually. I tend to gravitate toward the man's side of the bed when I'm in a menage, but the fact that the woman's there balances things out in my head. I get into some amazing-at least by your standards, I'm sure, since you're doing one of those so-called "psychological studies"-situations and predicaments. Like the time a man and his wife chained me to a wall in their basement (very far-out couple, let me tell you) and did a whole number, putting a cock-and-ball harness on me, making me suck his dick, and having her pee on me, the usual S&M stuff, but when they were finished, they left the room and forgot to untie me! I was bound and gagged. Couldn't say a fucking word. They remembered about an hour later.
I like to dream about a woman shoving huge rubber cocks up my ass, each one a little bigger than the other, while her husband whips my cock with his cock. I mean my face with his cock. Oh, well, he could whip my cock too if he wanted. Ever had your cheeks prick-whipped? It's a tremendous sensation.
I fantasize about an army of girls in black leather coming into my house and taking me away. To a castle where a huge black man with a gigantic prick straps me to a table and fucks me with some kind of burning jelly, something that makes my prick feel like it's going to fall off. Then he takes a hot poker and sears his initials into my ass while the girls press their big breasts to my face, smothering me with nipples. I like sometimes to think about poking a nipple with a pin and sucking all the milk out.
My craziest fantasy of all is being tied down and having a guy and a girl take a crap on me. On my chest. I would like to watch it, up close. See an asshole opening and a big turd coming out. Both of them, the guy and the chick. I would like to see if there is any difference in a male shitting and a female shitting.
See? Told you I was into things far and beyond bisexuality.
I guess you call my fantasies bisexual because they includ men and women. But if you had a chapter in your book called "S&M," that's where I would belong. But you won't have the guts to print this anyhow. I'm too "sick," right? The laugh's on you, however. I'm a practicing psychiatrist.
Al
Al's fantasy is incestuous as well as bisexual.
-My girlfriend has a brother named Tony. He's very, very handsome for a twenty-year-old, and he has a very big cock. I know. I've sucked it many times. The problem is, we do it on the sly, so she doesn't know. She would die if she found out he is queer. She's very protective of him. When I'm over at the house, I'll pretend to go out to the garage to help him on his car while she makes dinner. Out there I take his beautiful dick out of his jeans, and while he's leaning up against the side of his VW, I give him a blow-job that holds him until the next. I think I'm the only guy he does it with. He sees me as a kind of father. Patti and Tony were left fatherless when their old man died in an auto accident. Last year their mother died of cancer. They live together now.
I love Patti very much, and I love having sex with her. But I want desperately to have sex with her and with her brother at the same time. I know she wants it too, but who is going to tell her that? She would fight it. She loves him more than a sister should love a brother. And I think if we invited him into bed, he would come, because he loves what I do to his young cock, and I think he could handle getting it on with his sister. He's very horny as well.
When I go on a business trip-I have to fly to New York a lot-I jerk off in hotel rooms, always with the same fantasy. This is it: Patti and I come home after seeing a movie. We're both horny, and we take off our clothes on the living-room floor. We play around, and finally I get her vibrator out from the bedroom and ask her to diddle herself with it I like to watch her do that. She moans and begins to cry, with real tears, as she holds the plastic thing way inside her pussy. She pinches her nipples and begs me to fuck her or kiss her or something, but I just sit there on the couch watching.
Finally, when she is very hot and my cock is standing up like a goddamn soldier, I get down on the floor and let her suck me. She licks the underside of my dick, tasting the come that's already seeped out, and then my balls and even my asshole. I love it when she sucks my asshole and sticks her tongue up it. I used her vibrator once when she was taking a shower. I had never been fucked before. I shot off so fast it wasn't even funny. I loved it and thought to myself, "This is Tony in me! This is Patti's brother's cock inside me!" Wow.
"Then I start to fuck her. I tease her by rubbing the head of my big dick over the lips of her pussy. She begs for it, and I finally slide it in gently, slowly. I get it in and start to pump, and she closes her eyes in ecstasy as we start to fuck for a long, long time. I don't want to come fast, and she doesn't want it either. We like to go on for hours.
So, while she is in heaven, the door opens and Tony is standing there. He is in his Jockey shorts. He had been asleep, but our lovemaking sounds woke him up. He rubs his eyes and looks surprised at seeing his big sister getting fucked on the floor. She can't see him, but I can. I'm looking directly into his liquid eyes. I also see his shorts starting to bulge.
Tony brings his hands down to his underwear and slowly tugs them down to his thighs. His long, sleepy cock falls out, rising to attention. His balls hang low in their sac. He grabs his dick and beats it back and forth in the exact same rhythm as I'm fucking his sister. Then he shakes the shorts down around his ankles and steps out of them.
Patti is moaning. Every time she opens her eyes, I plant a kiss on her face to keep her from looking up and finding her little brother. Then I tell her, "Close your eyes tight," and she does, and I sock my dick to her like crazy, getting terribly excited by the big beautiful prick I'm seeing on the boy standing across the room. I lift my head and open my mouth, letting him know I want to have his cock inside my mouth. He can see I want him to come in my throat And he decides he can dig kneeling over his sister's face.
He kneels down in one fast movement. My lips fit around his cock, and my own cock gets about an inch thicker inside Patti because I'm so fucking excited. She opens her eyes, and she's staring up at her brother's balls, right above her face.
She sees my lips curled around his cock lovingly. She hears him say, "Suck it, Al, suck it like you do in the garage." And then she lets out a scream, and he stops her by shoving his ass into her face. Her little brother sits on her face, his smelly young hairy asshole pressing into her mouth! She kicks and squeals and digs her nails into my back, but the more she makes noises and tries to move, the more we give it to her. He smashes her face down hard with his tight buttocks, and his balls fall into her open mouth, and she is forced to suck on them. My cock won't let up in her pussy. I can feel every muscle in her body fighting me, but she is loving it, I know. And his huge young dick, it is ready to cream in my mouth. I balance myself on my arms, like doing push-ups, as I fuck Patti and suck her brother at the same time.
He comes. Like a fucking horse! There is so much of it I can't take it all, and some drips down to her face, down over his balls and into her mouth. She laps it up, screaming in ecstasy, her mind completely blown. Then I shudder and pull my head off his cock and yell that I'm coming. Tony kisses me and slides his long tongue into my mouth to taste his sperm between my teeth as I pump a huge load of thick jism into Patti's steamy cunt. Both of us collapse on top of her a minute later, and she moves around, completely freaked out by what is happening, sucking us both, licking our assholes, kissing our balls, as we put our heads next to each other and relax.
Wayne
You might call Wayne's bisexual fantasy the "zipless-fuck" variety-zipless in the sense that he hardly participates, and the other participants are faceless.
-I see a big cock and a big hairy cunt They are on either side of me. I don't know who they belong to. It doesn't matter. I'm sitting on the floor. The cock hits my face, and I kiss it Then the cunt is close enough for me to run my tongue up the slit. Hands move through my hair, four hands. I watch the cock entering the cunt in front of me, and I get hard. Then the cock slides up my asshole and fucks me. I eat the pussy with all my might. We come at the same moment. I wish this would happen to me.
Kevin
-The thing in my pants is goin' crazy. I called you to tell you I jerk my thing off thinkin' about how nice it'd be if I could go to one of those sex parties where guys and broads are all naked and doin' every goddamn thing to each other. Don't matter, men or women, everybody eatin' each other and fuckin'. I think I'd like to do that. I'd like to swing like them, fuckin' guys and broads both.
Jim
-My brother and I get our rocks off in a unique way. We like to jerk off into a girl's mouth. We kneel on either side of her face, and she plays with our balls as we hold the heads of our cocks together and work the shafts up and down with our right hands. With our left hands we pinch each other's nipples, which excites us. We started jerking off together when we were in high school, and found out pinching nipples was a turn-on. We hold off coming until we are both ready, and then the heads of our cocks (which look exactly alike, by the way) burst together, and all the hot come pours down into the girl's mouth. Some girls won't do it, and we throw them out. But if you get her stoned, she'll usually do anything. Especially with brothers who have nice dicks.
Conrad
-I have a fantasy I've never told anyone. I have a "thing" for my son's piano instructor. She is in her late twenties and quite lovely. Piano teachers are supposed to be old and cranky. This honey is really something. She sits on the piano bench with Benny, and her legs are spread enough for me to see she's not wearing any panties. Thank God Benny is only ten and doesn't know what a prize is sitting next to him.
I guess wanting to make it with a pretty girl isn't anything new, even if she teaches your kid how to play the piano. I also want her boyfriend. Yes, I know that sounds sick, b" it is the absolute truth. Like I said, I have never told anyone this. Who could I tell? My wife? Sure.
What happens is, every time she is finished with a lesson, he comes to the house to pick her up. He stands there in the doorway, in his tight blue jeans and one of those T-shirts with a rock group's emblem on it, like Chicago or Grand Funk, same kind of thing my sixteen-year-old daughter wears. You can't help but notice the bulge in his pants, and it's evident he isn't wearing any undershorts. He's as sexy as she is. God, I never thought I'd be calling another man "sexy."
She hugs him, and he pats her on the ass or he jerks his hips forward, and I can just feel the pressure of his bulge on her stomach. I can picture, right then and there, what they do and how they do it She takes his big fat cock in her mouth and sucks as be sits there in the chair watching her on her knees. He eats her cunt, and his beard and moustache get all wet with her pussy fluids. He even fucks her in the ass, probably more than in her cunt.
I want to be the one fucking her in the cunt while he is fucking her in the ass; that's what I'm saying. I want to be able to be free enough to grab his cock in my hand and feel my masculinity being threatened. Just to think about it makes me feel threatened. But the secret excitement is a more prominent emotion. I lust over the two of them. I would do anything just to be invited home with them. I would do anything they wanted. Just to have the two of them naked with me. Even if they only let me watch, I would sit there gladly for the pleasure of the moment as his huge magnificent rod plunged into her soft mound. I know exactly what his big balls look like. I know the color of her nipples. I know his asshole is dark, a darkish red, and hers is very pink. I know their bodies, even though I've only seen them clothed. I want to run my hands through her long soft hair, and through his too. I want to see him suck my cock and feel his shoulder-length thick manly hair brushing my nuts. I want to fuck her after he comes in her, just to feel his cream on my cock. Jesus, what I wouldn't give to be with them!
If it ever really happened, I swear, for the first time in my life, I would faint. And strong men like me are not supposed to faint, much less have erotic dreams about their son's piano teacher and the hippie-type stud who lives with her. Maybe I should start taking piano lessons.
Frank
-I dream of genie. Yes, that's my fantasy. Well, it really is much more involved. I have never talked about this. I've only thought about it. Actually, I've been anticipating talking to you ever since I saw your advertisement I feel a thrill already just being able to tell another man what I've been dreaming of all these years.
Suppose you had a gorgeous genie in a bottle, and you could not only take her out and put her back at will, but she would have to obey your every command and work whatever magic you wanted? That is the basis for my fantasy life. Secret sex it sure as hell is. And what a wonderful secret dreaming something right out of Arabian Nights. This genie is a beautiful thing with firm breasts and hard pink nipples. Her snatch is the most perfect in the world or nonworld, the world of magic, and the bush is thick and shaped like a rectangle, just like a hairbrush. She lets me do anything I want to her, and in return, she grants me wishes and provides me with whatever desire I want.
Say, if you want your cock to be ten inches, she makes it ten inches just by waving her hand. I once dreamed I was with a beautiful woman and she felt my cock in my pants and said, "You feel smaller than I had thought you'd feel." Well, instead of showing her my real six-inch dick, I just called on my genie and she made my cock grow to a whole twelve inches, a full foot, and when the woman finally opened my pants, she almost fainted, she was so amazed and hot for it.
My genie also can keep me hard for hours, maybe even for days! She makes it easy for me to cream at least four or five times in one fucking. Sometimes I let a girl suck me off, and I fill her mouth full of hot come (the genie also doubles my shots of sperm), and she chokes on it. Then I fuck her, and her cunt is so hot and wet and my cock is so long and hard, I come again, another gusher. Then I pull out, and she can't believe that my big dick still hasn't gone down. She fingers it, and I lean back, my cock sticking up in the air, and she gives me a good hand-job, and I spurt all over her body, onto her tits and down her soft belly and into her moist pussy hair. She tells me she's sure I can't come again, and suggests we take a shower. In the shower, she finds my dick is still like a rock, and she lets me slide it into her ass, and the soap burns her, and she howls as I fuck her madly, soaping her tits and pussy as I slide in and out of her. I come again. She is filled with my sperm-mouth, cunt, on her body, in her asshole....
Jesus, there's no end. Sometimes my genie can make me come four times in succession, with no stop in between. I cream into the girl I'm fucking, and I pull out and give her my wet cock for her to lick clean, but then she starts to tafce the head with her lips, it starts spurting again, and she goes wild, her eyes stick out of her head! She can't believe it, and I tell her to drink it all down, and she obeys me, giggling with happiness. Then she thinks I'm through, but I pull out of her mouth and lie on my back and tell her to watch. I hold my cock in my hand, and it goes off into the air like fireworks at Disneyland! She squeals with unbelieving eyes! Then I tell her I'm finished, and I ask her to lick up the come on my balls and thighs, and when she does, I cream again, all over her face, and this time she gets so frightened that I'm not human or something, she runs out of the apartment, bare-assed naked!
A little genie is all you need. It's sure all I need. She will do anything you like, give you movie stars to fuck, give you street whores, give you endless blow-jobs and bigger balls. Anything. All you have to do is rub the bottle. And then you can rub your cock. Sometimes I have the genie bring me a young boy to fuck, but I don't think I can talk about that
CHAPTER TWO
Women in Gay Dreams
The Gay Discussion Group
I attended an all-male, all-gay "rap session" at UCLA and explained the book and what I was looking for. Some of the fantasies I was told that night are included in Part Two of this book. I talked with the group as a whole, and individually. But-together and alone-they seemed somewhat ambivalent about the notion of gay men having fantasies that included members of the opposite sex. I was reaching for honesty, which was part of the reason I talked to the men individually, and I could feel I wasn't getting it. Oh, the gay fantasies were truthful. Everyone hedged on admitting he'd fantasized about women. I had the feeling that at least one of them had had a bisexual or straight dream. I couldn't pull it out of anyone, however.
The attitude that "we are gay and that means we are men wanting other men as sex partners" was ovemhelming, and it is a very valid point, a very real attitude, the essence, I imagine, of what being a homosexual is all about. But it seemed only natural that now and then-at least once?-one of those gay men would have a fantasy that included a woman. If many heterosexual men admitted to me that they'd had fantasies about men, why then wouldn't homosexuals admit they'd had fantasies about females? After all, these gay men made it very clear to me that they prided themselves on being more open, honest, and less uptight than their hetero counterparts. The group was not only a gay rap group, it was a gay pride group. I told them that many straight men, upset and uptight straight men, with great guilt and hesitation, had nevertheless finally admitted to wanting to get it on with another man as well as a woman. I was unwilling to believe that in this large group of admitted homosexual men (twenty-six of them), not one had ever had a fantasy about a woman. I argued the point. No one budged.
But the next day I received a phone call:
-Listen, I was one of the guys in the group last night. I wanted to tell you about fantasies about girls, you know? But my friends were there, and I thought they'd laugh at me. Once in a while I kinda think what it might be like to fuck a girl. Not alone, but with a few guys who are having a group thing. I like group sex. Two people is boring. I just wanted to tell you I have had those kinda dreams. You were right.
And two letters arrived shortly thereafter:
... and when you started rapping about including females in fantasies and dreams, well, that really shook me up. I was all ready to tell you, "Sure, I do that," as soon as someone else stood up and told you that first. But no one stood up. I realized I was the only one in the whole room who has beat off thinking about women as well as guys. I would have been too embarrassed to be the only one to tell you. I think about fucking a guy in the ass, which is what I like to do the most in gay sex, and then find out the guy is a girl. It happens in an alley or on the beach. I see a nice pair of buns lying there, and I just go up and pull the jeans down and sup my cock into that hot place. Then I find out it's a girl. And it feels good. Real good. I dream about making it with a boy and a girl together all the time. It's usually a high-school kid and his girlfriend. Something like that, a couple I meet That turns me on. I'm definitely gay, but you have to have some variety sometime. I think that's what you were trying to find out Tuesday night, but none of us would admit it. Gays can be real chauvinists, you know. I'm proud of being gay, but sometimes that pride gets into people's heads to an extent where it limits them. Thought you would like to know this stuff. Sorry I couldn't be more honest last Tuesday.
-I'm writing to tell you I've had heterosexual dreams, or bisexual dreams, if you will. I didn't tell you about them the other night at the meeting because I have never been able to talk in public. I go to the meetings because my lover belongs to the group and they have good speakers sometimes (you were good), and the free food is great. I don't know what dreams mean. I have not read those books on how to interpret dreams and that kind of thing. I don't think a person really needs to know that. All I know is, sometimes when I'm making love with my lover, I think about a girl being in bed with us. Well, not a girl exactly, a woman, an older woman who knows what she is doing. It would not take away from my love for my lover and our sex life, but it would add something. I get a hard cock thinking about a woman sucking our cocks at the same time. I mean putting both of them in her mouth at once. (It can be done! I saw it in a movie, but it was some guy doing it to two boys.) I made love to an older woman a few times, and it was great. But that was before I came out and met my lover. Sex with a man doesn't compare to sex with a woman at all. Women's bodies are so different from a man's. I want to feel hard muscles like mine and a prick like mine and balls like mine. But once a month, maybe, a woman joining us in bed would be okay. If she was a woman like my aunt. (She was the woman I said I had sex with.) So some of us gay guys do have thoughts about females in the line of sex.
Nelson
This young man didn't belong to the gay rap group. He wrote to me and asked if he could call and speak to me. When we finally did talk, I felt the vulnerability in his words, and also his honesty. He lives in Los Angeles and works in an office.
-I'm gay. But I'm responding to the bisexual part of your inquiry. Why? My fantasies include women. Not women in general, actually, but a certain type of girl-cute, young, with freckles and long blond hair. I have an exact image of her.
I have never shared this with anyone, because most of the people I know are gay. They wouldn't believe me if I told them I sometimes masturbate thinking about that girl. Or they wouldn't accept it, in any case.
I have never been with a girl. I think I want to be, but I'm not ready for it yet I'm very shy with women. But I'm not shy in my dreams. I'm the exact opposite. I walk up to the cute girl and ask her if she wants to meet me after classes, or if she wants to go to a free concert that night at the student union. Something like that. She says she'd just like to take a walk. We walk to a secluded part of the campus and sit under a tree. My roommate comes along, by accident, and joins us. I've been having sex with him for a long time. We've talked about getting a girl to join us, because we're both interested in opening up, in broadening our perceptions, and this seems the perfect chance.
My roommate and I tell the girl that we have "played around" with each other in the dorm because we don't get to be with women very often. She says she thinks that is very liberal of us and says she'd like to watch sometime. So we play around a little, rubbing each other's crotches, and she giggles and gets excited. She wants to see our cocks.
So we open our pants and pull out our penises. Mine is very hard. My roommate's is half-hard. She grabs it, and he grabs mine, and instantly he has a full erection. I begin to lift her skirt as she studies his penis, looking it over and pulling the skin back from the head. My roommate is chicano and uncircumcised, and she says she's never seen an uncircumcised cock before. It fascinates her. She plays with it as though it's a gentle bird, something fragile. He tells her it won't bite, to go ahead and kiss it. She kisses it and he falls back on the grass. She starts to blow him.
All this time I'm getting her panties off. Her pussy is moist and smells like flowers. I nuzzle my face between her creamy thighs and kiss her there. She shakes with excitement and works hard on my roommate's prick, and he groans in pleasure. He is working my cock up and down with his hand. We're in a daisy chain.
Finally we get our clothing off, all three of us. She sucks me while he fucks her. I fuck him while she sucks him. Then I fuck him while he is fucking herl It goes on until it gets dark. We both come about seven times each. Our balls are aching when she sucks them again, trying desperately to bring us off. But still, she hasn't seen us making out together. She finally sits against the tree and watches us sixty-nine each other until we reach our eighth climax. The moonlight bathes our bodies in a silver glow, and she says it is the most beautiful sight she's ever seen.
I should be writing my term paper, and here I sit putting onto paper what I've dreamed about. The freckled girl gets me hard every time. In fact, I just jerked off. The moonlight did it....
I'm very much in love with my roommate, and although we do make out, he isn't in love with me. He has a girlfriend (which is a strictly brother-sister kind of relationship) who reminds me a little of the girl I dream about Sometimes I find myself seeing her in my dreams, and tune in on me joining them in bed. I don't know. Dreams are strange things. They tell you things about yourself you really don't want to know. Or, at least, things you can't handle.
I couldn't handle making love to a girl yet It would have to be with another guy and a girl. I'm not even sure I could handle that. But I sure like to think about it.
Quickies
-I have a male lover. And a problem. I'm in love with his mother. She's young and beautiful. Looks like Elizabeth Taylor. I want to make it with her. I dream of making it with Terry and his mom at the same time! I know it's weird. But I'm being honest. That's more than you can say for most people.
-There's a girl who works in the grocery on my corner. Something about her. I think ... yeah, I think I'd like to go to bed with her. She's very boyish, but she doesn't come on like a heavy dyke. She's gentle. Reminds me a lot of my friend Davy. I told her that. She was flattered. Sometimes I get the feeling she's interested in me, and I get excited. I mean, my cock gets to tingle. Lately I've been dreaming what it might be like. I don't know if I have the guts for it to ask her. But I kinda hope it'll happen.
-My brother's straight. We're really close. Closer than brothers usually are. He tells me everything about the girls he fucks. Lately I've been remembering the stories. When I jerk off. I think about Bob's girls and jerk off. He says a pussy is warmer and nicer than a boy's ass. He knows, 'cause he fucked a few guys once. I dream about fucking a girl. But he's there too, and the girl is sucking on his dick or something. Once I dreamed he fucked me while I fucked his girl. That scared me.
CHAPTER THREE
Thinking Young
Why axe many bisexual fantasies oriented toward youngsters? That's none of our business. Well let the experts take a crack at that; what we care about is what the fantasies are like. And what are they like? Unlike most anything you've read, but you may have dreamed them. Some tend to be long and unusually vivid in detail, others are "quickies," as we've had in most categories in this book. In all of them, though, we find that little girls and little boys don't differ all that much-they're the object of great lust, and the fantasizer finds great satisfaction in both sexes. What matters is not so much that they have a young cock or a young cunt, but, simply, that they are young. See for yourself, and the next time you dream about children, remember, you're not alone.
Paden
Paden is a schoolteacher, and you'd think he has enough of children in the classroom. Wrong. His fantasy life is rich with the sexual excitement of youth.
-I wish I could bring myself to have secret sex, rather than just thinking about it, rather than just experiencing it in my mind. I'm a schoolteacher-college-and I get very excited by my students, the girls and the boys. I wear very tight underwear because I must be careful not to show them I have an erection while lecturing on the Roman empire.
I fantasize about locking the door to the lecture hall and ordering all fifty of them to strip naked. The ugly ones and the boys with small cocks and the girls with small breasts-throw them out. I take only the cream of the crop. I inspect each one, feeling the boy's prick, sucking it a little, getting it worked up for him, letting my fingers slide down and cup his balls gently as he relaxes at his desk. I tickle the girl's pussy and then bite her nipples and fondle her tits as I slide the head of my cock between them.
I get the kids all together in the front of the room, and we have an orgy. We roll around on the floor, cocks and cunts everywhere, everyone sucking and kissing any part of any body that turns up. Guys have their faces stuffed in other guys' assholes, and girls are kissing other girls. Some of the boys fuck the girls while they themselves are being fucked in the ass by other boys. Girls are sucking cock, so are boys, and I suck a big huge dick belonging to the blond boy who sits in the first row of my ten-a.m. lecture. I've always wanted him, and now I have him, and the size of his organ lives up to my expectations. He comes a mouthful, and I don't swallow it. I kiss one of the girls and fill her mouth with his hot spunky cream. She does the same to another boy, and he does it to yet another boy, and then to a girl, and so on until everyone has tasted some of the blond's semen. I finally let all the boys beat off over my body as I lie at their feet, naked, playing with my own cock. After all that sperm, that white snowstorm of sticky come, hits my body, the girls get to their knees and lick every drop off me. Then the prettiest girl in the class sucks my cock, and I fill her with a massive load.
Then we get dressed and go to the cafeteria as though nothing has happened but a boring lecture.
Jan
Jan doesn't know Paden, but they'd get along, I'm sure.
-I teach high school. I'm a twenty-seven-year-old guy with a strong sex drive. I have been making it with women ever since I screwed my mother's sister on our farm in Michigan when I was fourteen. But now I feel I'm bisexual. I haven't done anything with a boy yet, or another man, but I know I will one day.
You want to know about my secret fantasy. It is about my classes. I want to make some of my students. I find myself passing them for that reason, and treating the ones that don't turn me on like shit. I know that's wrong, but I can't help it. I said I have a strong sex drive. I imagine Kerry, a kid I have in one period, coming to me because he is worried he is flunking. So I tell him he will pass if he sucks my cock. He is very upset, but he figures it is more important that he passes. So he kneels down next to my desk and pulls out my cock. He's never sucked one before, so he isn't very good, but that is exciting. I come in his mouth, and he leaves the room, carrying his books, with my cream in him.
I have a guy and girl in one class who are going steady. I think about making it with them. The guy is a wrestler, but he is gentle and loving. He's cute, too. Has a tight, hard ass that almost rips through his jeans. And his cock must be enormous, because I've seen the long bulge in front of his body as he walks into the room. The girl is pretty and has nice tits, which she never really conceals. I think they fuck every chance they get. I would like to be between them. My cock in her cunt and his prick up my asshole. They could kiss each other and fuck like crazy, almost as if I wasn't even there.
I know a kid who wants me. He is a well-known homosexual in school, one of those kids who say "I'm fifteen and gay and proud." He is very feminine, but he is beautiful. I imagine sticking my cock up his little ass would be one of the greatest pleasures of life. One of these days I'm going to do it. I guess because I'm the youngest and best-looking teacher in the school, he has his claws ready for me. But I'll surprise him. After putting him off for so long, one night I'll just meet him in the locker area and tell him to get on his knees and suck me off. Then, later, I'll go home with him and make love.
I wonder if other teachers have fantasies about their students? I can never bring myself to ask.
Chet
Chefs fantasy is a book in itself, but I'm including it here as a prime example of how rich and dramatic and real a fantasy can be. He's an artist, a painter, and travels much of the time. His work has been exhibited all over the world, and he's made a lot of money, but he chooses to live simply. He told me that his fantasy world is fulfilling, thus he doesn't need the trappings of the glamorous life he could well afford. Chet said, "If an artist has no fantasy life, he's a robot from another planet."
-I live on a tiny island off Madagascar. A tiny island, hardly on the map. I am enormously rich and powerful. You know, a real Daddy Warbucks. I have dedicated servants who obey my every bidding. They do one most important thing for me, perform one most important function: they search the world over for the most beautiful children of both sexes, whom they kidnap and bring to the island. Then I take over, allowing each of the servants one of the girls or boys I've since tired of, to do with as they please. But the newly found children are mine and mine alone, and they receive food and love from me and thus allow me to do anything to them and their bodies that I please.
I take the boys and strip them naked and wash them down with herbal soaps and oils, cleansing their bodies and minds. They are all between thirteen and fifteen years old. All lovely-blond-haired and blue-eyed, some dark, Greeks, dark hair and eyes and skin. Dark cocks, long, manly dark penises, the penises of men on boys' bodies. I reach into the rose-petal-strewn water and grasp a beautiful thick penis in my hand, feeling it grow against my palm. When it is hard, I lift the boy from the water and tie a thick rubber band around his penis and balls, so it will stay hard for hours. Then I tie a little leash to his prick head and pull him around the mansion, from room to room, showing him some of the other children, some in their beds, some tied against the walls, some in chains, some lying in golden robes with baskets of fruit next to their beds. Those are the favorites. I tell the boy I am leading around that he too can become a favorite. Only he must obey my every command. For instance, at the moment, I have to urinate. I tell him he must be my toilet. I force him to kneel and open his mouth wide. I tug on the leash, and his prick head gets purple and he moans. Then I take my penis from my robe and pee into his mouth. Tears run down his face and the urine down his body. I pull hard on the leash and send him back to the large pool to cleanse himself. He will not make a good slave.
I find another boy, a slim thirteen-year-old with sandy hair and just a bit of pubic hair, and some on his balls. He has a long and thin penis. I lick it, and it lengthens to its full six inches. Then I play with it, painting it with watercolors, running the paintbrush up and down the long slit in the tip. It looks wonderful, all red and green and yellow and blue. His balls I paint completely purple, and then I rinse the colors off by pissing on him, and he smiles and tells me he likes pleasing me. This boy will soon be in a room of his own with fruit at his side and perhaps a girl once a week. I don't mind rewarding my best boys with the chance to have intercourse with a girl. I watch and sometimes film it.
The girls are playthings. I do not love them as I love the boys, for they will never grow up to be masters like me. They are on earth to give men pleasure, and I take endless pleasure in deflowering virgins. I usually tire of them fast, and I give them to the servants and never think about them again. I like to find a chubby young girl with a nice-shaped vagina and slide my big cock into it. She will scream in pain, and the blood will rush, and I will push harder. I come easily when I know I am completely inside her. With a little girl, especially a skinny one, I can feel her heartbeat on the tip of my prick head.
I sometimes line the girls up in a long row and watch them squat at the same time and pee. We do this on the beach. They squat in the hot sun, and I order them to urinate at the same time. If anyone does not, I have her whipped, or have one of my big black servants fuck her on the sand where everyone can watch. I often line up the boys and have them stand and piss onto the girls. We have a tank in one of the rooms of the house where I put all the girls, and the boys stand at the top of the tank and first piss into it, wetting all the girls, getting their hair drenched with smelly piss, and then the boys beat off, as the girls scream and writhe around in the sticky solution at the bottom of the rubber-lined tank. One time I found a boy sneaking into a girl's room without my permission, and I forced him to fuck her as I watched. In the middle of it, we bound them, tying them to each other, taping his cock to her pussy so it would not come out even when he lost his erection. He was forced to urinate inside her. And she had to urinate with his prick up her. We shoved long dildos up her ass and up his too and fed them nothing for a week. Then, when released, they became two of the best slaves I have ever known. Now they beg for my cock, they beg to piss on newcomers, they beg to watch a newly arrived virgin being stuffed with a twelve-inch plastic dildo by one of the other young girls.
But the boys are so loving. They wait for me at night, all of them naked except for little golden chains around their feet, little chains with tags on them, numbering them. I come into the room, and we he there in the moonlight, all those young hard bodies with erect penises, all mine, all there for my pleasure. I fuck one of them, and I fill him full of hot thick jism, and then I watch as another boy with a cute face-an almost girlish face, it is so pretty-licks all of my cream out of the boy's asshole, sucking it out in front of all of us. I lie on my back and watch as five of the boys work their cocks above me. Another sucks on my long cock while this is going on. And yet another is fondling my balls. When the boys start coming, I see their small scrotums tighten to their bodies as they tremble with excitement and release. Then we roll around on the soft cushions, feeling and sucking and licking and kissing. They are not jealous, they do not vie for my attention. They are satisfied to have me when I allow them the pleasure; otherwise they have each other. I find a cock and suck it until it is bursting, and when it comes, I take my head off for all to watch. Then we all lick his body clean of his little-boy jism. Another cock flops into my mouth. I do not even know to whom it belongs. I lick and admire it and caress it with my teeth and tongue, and then another slides into my mouth, a long and thick one, and I suck them both at the same time. I fuck one boy after another, on my knees, giving each of them a few slides up their asses, and then watch them as they sit around pulling on their young hard cocks as I play with myself. I tie two of them to a rack, and I whip them until their asses are welted and red and nearly bleeding. Then I walk up and kiss both of those beautiful cheeks, and I reach under their legs to find their Utile cocks hard. I jerk them off as another boy rubs soothing salve into the wounds. We take the boy with the biggest prick, a gigantic prick for his size, and squeeze oranges on it as he holds it up in the air. The head is so thick, it works better than an automatic juicer. We hold a small gold cup under his balls and catch the orange juice as it drips from his balls. Or grapefruit juice, or the nectar from the sweet lemons that grow on the island. We play a game as we twist the halved oranges or other fruit on his enormous prick head. We wait to see who the lucky person will be to get not only the fruit juice, but the juice from his cock as well. Cream rushes down his thick balls and fills the cup, swimming in the orange pulpy liquid. And it is drunk down as the rest of the boys watch in jealousy.
I sometimes invite the girls in to fuck the boys. They are not aggressive, having been taught to please rather than be pleased, so they merely lie on the floor and open their legs. The boys mount them and fuck them. Usually one boy rams his prick into a girl's little pussy while another boy sits on her face and makes her suck his cock. They like to come at the same time, and the shouts of joy can be heard everywhere on the island.
The children rarely wear clothing. When it rains, which it seldom does, I order them out into the yards, naked, watching the water run over their beautiful tanned bodies. I love seeing the boys' penises bouncing up and down, from thigh to belly, as they frolic. I love to watch the girls with breasts fondle themselves in the water, and lie back in the grass and feel the tickling sensation between their legs as the drops of water hit. They lie around the pools in the sunlight, burning their rounded buttocks, hard young perfectly-shaped cocks and pussies that are just sprouting hair. I eat dinner, and I am served by two naked boys wearing little aprons over their cocks. I lift the aprons and often lick their goodies for dessert. The girls serve the women cooks in the kitchens. They often have to perform sexual services for the cooks, for they are lesbians. It is also a thrill, when the children are first brought to the island, to force them to make love with members of their own sex. None of them have had sex before, but there is still a kind of conditioning they must go through to get them to participate with one another. When they do, they do it well. Girls lie between other girls' legs and lick and suck and slide their tongues in and out of that place they thought was made only for urination. Boys find that another hard cock is like their own, and they learn the joy of playing with it, as they have already learned the joy of playing with their own. Then they see mine, the biggest, the darkest, the hairiest. They are in awe. They fondle my balls as though they were two precious stones. The girls cry when told I am going to fuck them. They are afraid I will split them in two. The boys do the same when I turn them onto their stomachs and force my long cock into their virgin assholes.
I used to have this fantasy only as a daydream. Now it has taken over my entire life. I sleep with it, I embrace it with my heart, and I find total satisfaction in it.
Quickies
There are other variations on this theme, although neither so extensive nor so explicit as the above.
-I kidnap little kids. Both sexes. I fuck them and toss them out and go out to get new ones.
-My secret desire is to have a group of youngsters in my power. I'm bisexual, and they would of course be boys and girls. In their early teens. Each child would be lovingly trained in some small refinement, trained to be perfect. For instance, a little girl would be trained to receive me in her precious asshole. We would work on it for months, lubricating her anus and sliding various-sized cock-shaped things into her. Then she would receive my cock, and she would be the only child I would perform anal intercourse with. A boy would be trained to suck my cock perfectly and exquisitely. See what I mean? Each would have a single act, and I would have all of them.
-I get my rocks off thinking I have this band of thieves. They go out at night and rob rich people of their slick kids. Then I debase them, make them suck my dick and beg for a scrap of food after they've fucked with me. I become their master, and finally they don't wanna go back to their richbitch parents 'cause they like the life with me too much. My kids would like living in a perverted world, fucking and sucking their days away.
-I'm the father of three young children, so this will come as a shock to you and your readers: I fantasize about plucking young boys and girls from their backyards and taking them off to the woods to teach them everything about sex. Then, when I have them under my power, each time I come around their houses, they run off with me. I don't think of my own children. I mean, they are not involved in this. But I sometimes think about the boy and girl who live next door. I want to screw both of them.
-I'm the Wizard of Oz, man, and all the kids worship me. No munchkins around, just nice juicy young pussy and cock. Kids. Chicken. Little hairless cunts and cocks that are hard all the time and that stick out like they do when you're a kid. Sucking cock and eating that nice young pussy-that's my dream. They do whatever I want, anything goes. Why? 'Cause I'm the Wiz-Man, the big-cock man, the ruler of the magic land with all those little titties and flopping cocks running around.
-I have never been healthy enough to have regular sexual relations with people. I have been bedridden for a number of years. But I have an active fantasy life, which really began when my sister brought one of her children over for the day. They came to sit out in the yard with me. Well, my sister had to go somewhere for a few hours, and she left the kid with me. His name is Barry, and he was about eleven at the time. He had to pee, and he asked if he could do it in the bushes beyond the pool, and I said sure. I wanted to watch him. I got excited. I told him not to put it away, to let me touch it, and he did. It was a nice feeling, a lovely little cock. I promised him if he brought one of his playmates with him the next time, I would show them something which would really excite them. Well, the next time Shirley dropped him off, I was astonished to find a fifteen-year-old girl with him. She was his "best friend" and lived across the street. After some coaxing, she pulled down her panties and showed me her lovely cunt. She had quite a bit of hair. They had obviously been "playing doctor" before that, because they seemed at ease with each other. I taught the boy how to feel stimulation by putting a finger up his ass, and I masturbated the girl with my fingers until she reached an orgasm. Since then, I have watched Barry grow up, watching his cock get manly and seeing the hair grow in around it. He is seventeen now. He still visits. I watched his very first orgasm. Watched? I sucked it, actually! Yes, I gave him a blow-job, and he came, when he was thirteen, and it was a great experience. He has sucked me off many times. He's brought his girlfriend over, and finally they have agreed to fuck in front of me, but I still remember him as a child with no hair on his sturdy legs, and that cock so innocent and pure. ... I fantasize all the time about a hundred little kids coming over to the yard, swimming naked in the pool, coming to me to be sucked off, or to have their pussies felt up, or to play with my prick, or something like that. They're so young and precious! So untouched by the world, so open to sex in every form. It is a wonderful thing, this fantasy world, for a man like me who is not able to go out and pick up women on the streets.
Christopher
Christopher is a twenty-two-year-old bisexual male who is in medical school. He openly admits to being a "body watcher" and explains how "body watching" leads to an active sexual fantasy life.
-I look at crotches. I look at sweaters and halters to try to see nipples. I stare at bodies because I love to look; I find it perfectly natural. I know women stare at a guy's pants to see how filled-out his fly is, but usually they won't admit it. I know it happens, because I wear tight jeans often and I see women, from teenage girls right up to old dowagers, taking an obvious glimpse down between my legs. And why not? That's why I wear tight jeans.
A couple of my pals are gay, and I know for a fact that they are always looking at other guys' crotches, or "baskets," as they're called. It's perfectly natural to wonder what's under there, how big that cock is, what it's shaped like, how thick is the head as compared with the shaft, is it circumcised or uncircumcised, how much of that big lump on the right side of the zipper is cock and how much is balls, or how much is sweat socks?
As they say in nineteen-sixties jargon, "I'm AC/DC." Meaning I'm looking at everyone. Granted, there isn't much to see when a girl is wearing a skirt, unless she spreads for you and isn't wearing any underpants. But find a chick in skin-tight shorts and sit on the bus across from her. Stare into her eyes for a minute, then go down between her legs, and you'll watch them part and you'll see a few little dark hairs sticking out around the edge of the material, and if you're lucky, she might even have nerve enough to pull out part of her cunt lips for you. I've had it happen to me.
But even if she doesn't show you anything, it's great to imagine with all the creativity you have in your brain just what is under there. Sometimes you can clearly see the outline of a chick's snatch in her shorts, or you can catch a shot of her pussy hair under her skirt and let your imagination go from there. Ass-watching is great too, especially if the girl's in jeans. They hug just right. On guys too, I'm usually turned on by the sight of a hunky ass in a pair of faded, nearly ripped jeans. With girls in skirts it's pretty hard to figure out the real fine curves of her ass, but with some imagination you can do anything.
Nipples are incredible, and they stand out so in women's clothing today. I'm a real nipple freak; I don't care how big a girl's breasts are, but I'm nuts about hard, solid nipples. I like it best if I can see the darkness through the material. Last week I saw a super-looking waitress with nearly black nipples under her white uniform. Everyone's eyes were falling out at the counter. I think every guy sitting there had an erection.
I walk down the street, and when I see a girl, the first thing I do is check and see if I can see the outline of her breasts. If so, then I look for the nipples. If I see them, I'll trail her forever to get another glimpse. All the time, my cock's getting hard in my shorts and I'm stocking up on great jerk-off material to use during exam time when my nerves are shot to hell and I can't spare the time to go out and get it on with a chick or with a guy.
The second thing I do, if I don't see nipples, is to turn around and check the ass, see if it's big, tight, whatever. I'll follow a few blocks on that alone too, thinking what it would be like if my nose was pressing in between those gorgeous buttocks.
Or the same thing with a guy. I go through moods-sometimes I'm into men, and that's it, I don't feel like getting it on with a chick for weeks. And vice versa. But the point is, when I'm hot for a guy, especially if I want to fuck him, I'm looking at asses. I rode an escalator once that I wish would never have stopped. The ass in the jeans in front of me was probably the best on earth; people would have killed to stick their cocks up there. (I didn't have to kill; we started talking, and I ended up going home with him, and we acted out the fantasy.)
I'm a cock man too. I have a girlfriend named Cathy, and she's wild and crazy and kookie, but sweet, little-girl-like. She's a cock nut too, and sometimes, on Saturdays and Sundays, well go out just looking at crotches. Well see a guy, and well stare him down, and if he picks up on what we're doing, sometimes his dick will start getting hard and well see more of it. Then we compare notes; I think it was eight inches, and she says nine, and we talk about what we would do with him once we got him to my little apartment. Crazy things like that, but it's a terrific pastime, a great way to spend a day. Or spend the minutes that are usually boring-standing in line somewhere, waiting for the bus, walking through the supermarket, things like that. Start checking out what's between everyone's legs. Look at women's tits and figure out just how big the nipples are under the clothing I often think it's better not to see what's underneath-imagining is ninety percent of the fun.
Cary
Cary works for the government, lives in Washington, and is in his early forties. He told me he's never had a fantasy that doesn't include children. He has none of his own.
-I've often wondered if mothers who are used to seeing their sons' cocks when they are little and up to the age of five or six or maybe even older-I've wondered if those same mothers wonder how big their kids' cocks are when they're grown up? I wonder if a woman would like to compare the size of her boy's cock to that of her husband. And that's usually the basic fantasy I have, seeing a woman-maybe even it's my mom-sneaking into the bedroom to see her boy's big dick.
Usually she watches him take a shower through a door left open, or he thinks she's gone and he sunbathes nude in the backyard. She watches with her pussy dripping as he slides off his pants or his swimming trunks and lets his big cock hang out. I like to think it is much bigger than his dad's, the wife suddenly finds herself turned on to her son rather than her husband. ... I go through real powerful mind trips like seeing her stuffing her fingers up her cunt as she kneels in the hallway in her fancy dress and stockings and all, watching her eighteen-year-old jock son drying himself after a shower, putting baby powder on his balls, just like she used to do. Sometimes I dream she walks in and does it for him, puts Johnson's Baby Magic on his ass just as she used to do....
But that usually blows it The real fantasy, the real kick, is in them not seeing each other. The kid doesn't know he's being watched, and she knows he is acting natural, not performing. That's why it's so exciting when he starts to play with his cock, like if he's sitting out by the pool in the sun and gets horny and decides to pull on his prick-Mom is watching from the bushes, and he doesn't know it Or maybe she's in the kitchen. She gasps and moans at the sight of her kid's long, gleaming cock, so much bigger and younger and stronger than his father's. She dreams of his fucking her, and maybe he is dreaming the same thing. But it's that curiosity of the mother wanting to find out what her son's dick looks like that drives me wild and gets me turned onto sex anytime of the day. I've often wondered if Mom ever wants to see how big I am compared to Dad. Sometimes when I'm home on semester break, I'll wear really tight jeans or walk around in my underwear, and I swear she's looking straight at what's between my legs. Sometimes I purposely leave the bathroom door open just a little, in case she wants to peep in and see that I am bigger than my old man.
CHAPTER FOUR
Swinging Both Ways
Derek
Derek claims he's been bisexual all his life-at least, in his fantasy life, which he says is the most important. He never classified himself as a heterosexual, even when he was making Jove exclusively to women; when he's gone through times of getting it on with men only, he's never called himself a homosexual. He hates the classification "bisexual," but he agrees there is no other way to put it "All these silly fucking labels they stick us with," he complains. "Labels and numbers. Why can't we just be people?" Perhaps the following interview with Derek will influence people to be just that-people.
How old are you? Thirty, and proud of it. When I was growing up, I would hear things like "Life is over at thirty." Well, life is just fine at thirty.
What do you do? Where? In bed?
No, but I'll ask you that soon enough. For a living. I'm an assistant manager of a department store. But I have an MFA. But who's gonna hire some guy with a master's in fine arts?
Why'd you get it? Please my parents.
Are they pleased? Yup. I'm making good money. They think, in some deluded way, the degree got me the job at the store. Thing is, I didn't even tell the store I had a degree-for sure, I wouldn't have gotten the job.
When you first answered my ad, you wrote that you were Jare "bisexual and full of fantasies." First of all, what made you respond to the thing in the paper? My girlfriend found it. She said, "Hey, this is for you." She knows I like telling dirty stories. I do. I like telling her what I did the night before with some guy I met in a bar. I tell her everything. She gets turned on, worked up. I do too. I like being honest.
What does the word "bisexual" mean to you? I hate it Hate those labels. It means shit. Just shit. You know? But since we have to use it, I say it means you swing with guys and gals and your head doesn't get all rattled. See, lotsa people pretend to swing because it's the big thing to do. They write about it in all the big magazines, and women talk about it at the goddamn hairdressers'. Men don't talk about it much. But they do it.
Are you saying they swing without liking it? Yeah.
Swinging has different connotations. How do you mean it? Oh, not the husband-and-wife thing. Not "swingers." I just mean you ball both guys and gals.
Have you always been into both sexes? In my head, yeah.
Physically? First it was girls. Then guys with girls. And now I make it with guys alone too.
What were your early fantasies like? Oh, I used to dream about my older brother making love to his girl. Not his girl, exactly, but this whore who lived across the street from us. She used to give blow-jobs in back of her garage until her dad caught her and beat the shit outta her one day.
Had you ever actually seen your brother making love to her? Not exactly making love to her. I watched him screwing around with her one day, but you couldn't call it making love. She was kneeling and he was standing, and she was opening his zipper with her teeth. I had seen his cock many times, but never hard. So when I saw it so big, I was startled. I got hard watching. She sucked him, and he kept saying things to her like, "Suck it, you little bitch, or I'll tell your mom you're a cheap tramp...." He wasn't too kind.
That started your fantasies going? Sure. Crazy thing was, they were mainly about him. Not him exactly, but about sucking a cock as big as his. I didn't realize I was gonna grow, and mine would get that big one day. Back then I envied him. Penis envy, only I was a guy. I wanted to suck a cock. Not Bob's, but one like it. I wanted to kneel there like Joanne and have him say nice dirty things to me. I was a little masochist then.
And now? I'm everything.
How'd you get there? Beating off, dreaming, finally doing things. I finally got Joanne to give me a suck-job. The first time I came, it was in her mouth. That was before her old man got her, and then they put her in a convent school. I never fucked a girl until I was seventeen. I got blow-jobs, but that was all.
That's unusual, I think. Most guys I know-myself included-had girls to fuck, but getting them to go down on you was another story. I know. I had a stroke of luck. My art teacher was young and pretty. I mean, young in her thirties, not some hag in her sixties like most of the teachers were. She wasn't married. She took a special liking to me. It's the old story. One Saturday we had this kind of special class at her house, working on clay, and since I was teacher's pet, I stayed late to help clean up. She ended up going down on me. Very Summer of '42. I let her think no one had ever sucked my dick before. She kept giving me blow-jobs for the next three years.
You never had intercourse with her? I think Deep Throat should have been dedicated to her. I read a porno book once called Maggie the Mouth Girl. That was her. I don't know if she even had a cunt. All she did was suck.
Were you the only one? No, see, this buddy, Gary, I found out years later ... Wait, that's getting too far ahead.
Well, take it from wherever you care to. Remember, I want to know your fantasies through all this. Okay. When this teacher was doing it to me, I was, of course, fantasizing about fucking. I had never done it, and Gary and I used to beat off together talking about fucking some broad. We used to stare at each other's cocks, and we both knew we were digging it, but we didn't tell each other. I wanted to touch his so fucking bad. But I was afraid he'd haul off and punch the shit out of me. Funny thing was, years later I found out he wanted to do the same thing and had had fantasies about me fucking him. I'm getting ahead again.
I may as well talk about the fantasies I had about guys before I finally got the guts to make it with a guy. I used to think I was hired for a cocktail party, like a butler or bartender, only I had to go around and whenever anyone unzipped, I had to get on my knees and suck his cock. No matter who. I used to beat off thinking about that all the time. Sometimes I dreamed I was Joanne sucking off guys like Bob behind the garage.
I would fantasize that I was the big executive, and I called a meeting. Into the conference room would come all the guys who worked for me. But instead of their suits, they'd come in their underwear. And during the meeting I'd go under the table and suck them off.
Still the masochist? Weren't you ever the recipient? Oh, sure. I dreamed I was sitting in a movie theater and some guy came up, dropped his head, and sucked my cock for half the movie. I used to think about little things. Like when my hair kept getting thicker, the hair around my dick. I would think of a guy licking it and moving his tongue through it When I would shower I would think of a guy licking the soapsuds off the hair and kissing my balls. Whenever I played tennis, I got sweaty. That's when I'd dream of some beautiful boy licking all the salty sweat from my body. He'd start at my feet and work up to my crotch and ass, and then go up to my hair. Finally he'd suck me off. I'd lie in bed at night and look down at my Jockey shorts. Now I don't wear any underwear. But then I wore tight Jockeys. I would see my dark hair curling around the sides of the legs. Even that would turn me on. I'd start fantasizing about seeing a lineup of guys in their shorts and looking at the different kinds of cock hair that curled around the legs. There was no end to my imagination.
All this was secret sex, then? You weren't relating any of these dreamy adventures to friends? You kidding? I didn't want to be called a queer. We were all very straight.
And you know what? I had a lot of these fantasies as the art teacher (I don't wanna say her name) was sucking my cock. She'd do it everywhere. In her car. In the pottery room. In the book-storage room. In the bushes outside the cafeteria. We took some chances. But she was hooked on my cock.
Were all your fantasies about men? Most of them. I think it was because I was having sex of some sort with a woman, and I wanted to see what it was like to be with a man. See, when I finally balled a chick, they got even stronger. I dreamed I was balling a guy, a specific guy, a kid who sat across from me in study hall. He was blond and gorgeous and rich. We all envied him, but he had no friends. His mom picked him up in a Caddy after school. We all got into our 1956 Fords. But I wanted to fuck his ass.
When did you have fantasies about women? As soon as I started balling guys. Let me go back----
Go back, by all means. I used to do crazy things. The store where I work now, well, it's been around forever. I used to go in there when I was in high school and go into a fitting room and jerk off. There was this salesman who used to watch. We never talked about it. I was trying on pants once and my mom was waiting for me. Man, I saw him looking. I got a huge hard-on and came out of there blushing and trying to cover my cock with the pants I tried on. I couldn't zip them up because I was so hard. But I went back, and he watched again. That time I pulled it out and let him see it. Then the rest of the times I stood there and whacked off until I came. He used to smile and give me discounts on the stuff I bought. But we never talked about it.
How about guilt? Wasn't it difficult? Didn't you go through those "Am la homosexual?" pains? No. I think it's because of Bob. He was always very liberal. My parents used to call him a beatnik. He always told me that sex was a good thing and it didn't matter if you did it with guys or girls or both. What counted was that you enjoyed it. What I didn't know was that our uncle is gay, and he and Bob were really good friends and not too far apart in age. So Bob felt this cause, you know? He made me think pretty clearly about it. When I heard the queer jokes at school and all, I just kinda walked away. No one seemed to care. They just figured I was a drip.
You're lucky. Young guys go through absolute pain when they have homosexual fantasies and are told that to be normal in society you must be heterosexual. That's changing.
Hopefully very quickly. I think it is. There's always been this thing that it was okay for two girls to maybe play around a little, especially if they are with a guy, a threesome. But never two guys. That's changing. Men aren't so uptight about it anymore. I'm not saying that as an artist who hangs out with artists and the sexual-elite crowd. I'm saying that as a fucking average schmuck who works in an average department store with average people.
What was your first heterosexual experience like? I don't mean the teacher. I mean the first time you fucked a girl. It was pretty good. But, like I said, I fantasized about a guy. I think that was because the chick was a real cow. Straight out of the stockyards. The second experience was better. She was beautiful. We got it on for hours, and I didn't fantasize once, couldn't have if I had tried. She was too much reality for me to believe.
The first time was on a vacation. I was seventeen, and I went to Florida with my mom and dad. We had a home down there we used to rent for three weeks during the summer. We would sleep in motels on the way. We found a motel one night, and I went out to the pool for a late swim, and after that I was walking around trying to see in windows. I loved watching people without them knowing. I used to do that in our neighborhood and beat off.
Anyhow, I found a ladder leading to the attic that runs down the length of the building. You know, over all the rooms. I looked down through air vents into the rooms. I found this beautiful girl lying on a bed naked. But then her husband or boyfriend came into the room and started to fuck her and turned the lights off! Shit. I crawled down this board, hotter than hell, in my swim trunks. I found another light. There was this big fat girl, woman, whatever. She was sitting on the bed and shoving her fingers in and out of her cunt. I started beating off. Then she went into the bathroom. So I crawled down and went to her bathroom window. She saw me, and instead of screaming, she told me to come in and she'd teach me something. Something like that.
So I went in, and she sucked me a little, and then I fucked her. She smelled. Goddamn, she was repulsive. So I thought about screwing a guy in the ass, the kid from study hall. But in Florida, about two weeks later, I had one of the best times of my life. I got invited to a beach party given by kids my age who lived down there. I met this girl, Jody, and we drank some wine and beer and kissed. Finally we went up to the sand dunes and made love. Really made love. Her cunt was so hot and wet She had never been eaten before, and I had never done it but I learned fast She tasted like saltwater and honey. It was incredible. It's still a fantasy of mine, remembering it. We went on for hours.
When did you have your first experience with a man? When I got back to school. A kid from the college I was planning on going to was at our school giving a talk one day. I met him after classes and we rapped about the art program. He asked if I wanted a ride home, and I said yes, even though my car was at school. I think I knew he was gay. We drove to the beach and did it in the car. I got home just in time for supper, and I could still taste his come when I was eating my food. I was super-turned-on and had a hard-on all through the meal.
What about your first group scene? College was full of that. Artists are crazy. Totally, one hundred percent crazy. Everyone was fucking everyone, and I fit right in, because I would be fucking a girl and at the same time I'd be sucking on a big dick. I was very popular. Lots of guys wouldn't touch other guys, but they'd let themselves be done. I didn't have any pride. I dug sucking and I did it and smiled. And they respected me. No one called me a "cocksucker" and that shit. It was a kinky scene, but healthy.
How about Gary? How about him? Listen, he was my best friend, but he was also my best fantasy. Talk about sex being secret! Christ, I pounded my meat so many times thinking about his cock. He went into the goddamn Army after high school. I had him talked into college-we were gonna room together. But all of a sudden he decided to go into the Army. Three years later he gets out and comes to see me. I'm very honest and say, "Look, Gar, I'm bisexual now. I dig getting it on with both sides." And he looks me in the eye and says, "Will you fuck me?" Blew me over! Fucking blew me over!
Did you? Still am. He got married last year, but we still get around to an occasional quickie when we're horny. He's got a great ass. That ass has been a fantasy in itself. Sometimes I think of it, the hairs, the hole, in detail. I think about sliding a finger into it slowly pulling it out, kissing it, rimming it. I do the same with the girl I'm going with now. Her pussy is shaved and looks unlike any I've ever seen. There are miles of folds in it. You can get lost in there. My tongue feels like it's going to disappear inside her. Fabulous pussy.
You said you went through hetero periods and homo periods. Want to elaborate? By that I mean I will fuck a girl for a few months, and it's satisfying. That doesn't mean I don't fantasize about guys. I just don't get it on with them Or I'll meet some kid I fall for and we are "lovers" (whatever that damn word means) for a few months, and we are faithful. But I'll dream about screwing a chick with nice tits and a pretty ass while I'm letting him take my cock in his mouth. Fantasy keeps an affair from going stale. But you know that That's why you're doing this book.
II I didn't know it, I've learned in the past few weeks. The book-the point is to record fantasies. Your story is valuable-you're a bisexual without guilt. But I want to know more about your fantasy life. What do you dream about now? You ball both men and women. What is there to dream about? You do things most people only dream. Not true, pal. Just because I'm a switch-hitter doesn't mean I do everything in the book. I've never done anything like whipping a chick or a guy. I've dreamed about it, though. You said I was a masochist when I was small. Now I'm a sadist in dreams. I think about grabbing some famous chick, some nightclub singer in Vegas or someplace, and making her get down and strip and eat my cock in front of the whole audience. If she doesn't, I grab my belt and whack her a few times right on her breasts. The audience goes wild watching me. I think about finding a big burley football player and forcing him to bend while I shove my long cock up his sweaty asshole. All the guys on the team are watching him. They're all disgusted, but hard. How can he let himself be forced into something like that? They're all thinking. And they applaud me because I'm so fucking strong. Yeah, I know I weigh one-forty and I'm five-ten, but you can be BIG in dreams, don't forget! I don't look like a sadist, skinny me. But I can be one in my dreams. You can be any fucking thing you want.
What else? Size. I like big cocks. I'm a "size queen," as my gay pals say. And with chicks too. I love big boobs-they turn me on like crazy. Big, enormous nipples, the darker the better. The kind you can really suck and feel in your mouth and teeth. The kind you think would sqtirt across the room if you popped them with a pin. I like nuts that hang real low. Mine do that. Girls always tell me they like the feeling of my balls moving over them when I fuck them.
One of my current hard-on fantasies is that I'm fucking a girl. I pull out, and a guy licks my cock head, and I stick it back in the girl. She moans and pulls on the other guy's cock while he stares at my moving pelvis. Then I pull out again, and he sucks a bit. Makes my cock head all wet and tastes her pussy juice. I slam into her again, fucking her harder and harder. When I'm ready to shoot, I pull out and let him take it. He fills his mouth with my come, and then he kisses the chick and squirts it all into her mouth. Then maybe he fucks me in the ass. I don't know. While she watches.
I think about things when I'm at work. When I'm bored. A slim boy fucking a big masculine guy. I like that kind of dichotomy. A teenage kid getting fucked by a big bull dyke while her girlfriend watches. Since I read Fear of Flying, I've had zipless fucks. I see people in the store, and I fuck them with my eyes. I get hard and nearly come. The fantasy of what is under their clothes is that strong. I strip women all the time, and they know I'm doing it and they lead me on. It's a great game. I zero in on a gorgeous kid with a hard-on wearing nothing but white socks:-I have a thing about white socks. I want to fuck a kid wearing nothing but white socks. I think about a girl sucking the handle of her tennis racket up my ass. I fantasize about drilling a hole through the wall into the ladies' John and watching the well-groomed women who shop in the store taking a piss. That would be a trip.
Do you like pornography? Use it? Love it. Have a good collection of films. We have parties that turn into orgies because of the films. You know what? That's a fantasy of mine. See, I go into a porno bookstore. But the thing is, I don't know it's porno. It just says "Books" out front. I find this really erotic book with illustrations. I get turned on, and the guy who runs the joint sees me smiling. Sees my joint getting hard in my pants. "Hey, kid, you wanna see something really good?" he asks me. I nod. He takes me to the back room and shows me real erotica-books and pictures like I've never seen before. The best pictures are in a book with a hard cover. There are two beautiful black girls sucking and fucking a stud white guy. They suck his cock together, both their lips on the head at the same time. He is fucking one of them and has his fingers up the other one's dark pussy. He sits on one's face, and the other one has his cock up her ass. Incredible. I want the book, but it is too expensive. John Paul Getty couldn't afford it. But ... he tells me the pictures in the book were taken upstairs. "Upstairs? Here?" He says yeah, right up the stairs in the back. Each book is one of a kind, no copies are made. The photos are taken and put right in the book. I look at the book again and see that they are real glossy photos. They aren't printed on a page. So he tells me I can have the book if I go up there and pose for a set of pictures with the two black girls. That way my pictures will go into the next book, which will be passed along to the next guy who comes in and can't afford it and goes upstairs and takes the pictures.
And it's marvelous. The girls are more beautiful in real life. They were born for cocksucking. They make me come all over their pretty black faces as another guy takes the pictures from the corner of the room. One sits on my ass and slaps it. The other one spreads her pussy and sinks it to my face. My tongue slides up her. The camera clicks away. I take a leak standing up, pissing right into one of the girls' spread cunts. Then she pees on my chest, and I cream into the other girl, who is sucking me at the time. They tie me up and pull on my cock until it hurts. They tie a rope around my balls and pull. I get mad and bust out of the chains. I tie them up and become a sadist. I pinch their nipples until they are harder than rocks. I shove dildos up their cunts and shove my cock into their faces. I piss on them after I've whipped their asses red, and they howl in pain. Fuck, it goes on and on....
So your dreams are bisexual and basically dwell on things you haven't done? Yeah. Well, the dreams aren't bisexual in the way that they include a guy and a girl in each one. Usually it's about a guy. Or about a chick. Not together. I do that enough in reality. I like to dream mainly about one person. But, yeah, things I don't do. I think I'd really freeze if I had to beat someone. But to do it in a dream is fine. I come like fucking wild when I think about that.
Do you ever feel guilty about having strong S&M fantasies? Guilty about any fantasies? How can you feel guilty about something that isn't hurting anyone else? The only thing I've done a few times is regret.
Regret? Gary. I regretted not having the balls to tell him what I was thinking in high school. We wasted all those years by not getting it on! Because we were afraid to tell each other the truth. I regret not being honest.
II that's all you've got to regret, that's pretty good. You seem pretty honest now. I am. Completely. Some woman tells me, "Hey, I would sure like to make it with you. I think you probably have a nice cock." I say to her, "Sure, okay. But I'd like to have your husband join us, because he looks like he'd have a nice big one too." She'd either slap me and run or her eyes will turn to jelly and she'll feel a tingle in her cunt. I take the chance.
You think it's good to take chances? Life's boring otherwise. I take chances. I do sculpture and I paint and I take the chance of selling some of them at art shows. Sometimes I don't sell anything. But I take the chance. I take the chance of asking a girl if she has a few friends she'd like to bring to bed with us. Makes things interesting. We're really living in a boring time. I think the last bit of true excitement we had was the Kennedy era. When it died, fun died. We're living one big negative depression. So fantasies-not only sex ones-are lifesaving. Jesus, that's why I wrote to you after my girl showed me the ad. I wanted to tell you that what you're doing is right-on, it's what we need. If maybe more guys and chicks could talk about the things they dream, we would be happier. Everyone's bisexual, deep inside. Or I should say, everyone's sexual. That's basic. I think the world would be better off if we all threw down some inhibitions and started to experiment. I wish every guy could have a brother like Bob was to me, telling me not to put down "queers" when I was at the age that every one of my friends was doing just that I wish everyone could ball girls and whisper into their ears that they had had a guy the night before. That's exciting. And excitement makes for happy, healthy minds. But now I'm getting too heavy. Yd better stop before I sound like Margaret Mead.
No, go on----I've said what I wanted to say. I'll just be repeating. Like a dumb parrot. If the stuff I've said doesn't affect anyone, nothing else I say will. I just hope some guys agree with me and open up a little bit. Sex is the best thing in the world, and you know why? Because it is the only thing that can really take you away from the world.
