Forbidden Flowers (26 page)

enveloped (unlike my own real lover, who's about my own size). We make love in meadows of flowers and thick, lush pine woods on a forest floor of ferns I can almost smell the damp greenness and feel the velvet moss and crunchy leaves beneath us. Sometimes I imagine we are fucking in the rain. I really like that. (Since my three psychedelic experiences-two LSD, one mescaline-these types of details have been very important in my sensual life.) My “Earth Man” lover is not dirt-dirty, but he is unwashed. The smell of unwashed armpits and especially unwashed balls and ass turns me on very much. I am not a distinct personality in these fantasies – not any sort of

“Earth Mother” – but just myself. He has a full, sensuous mouth, and kissing him slowly is delicious. His hands are strong, but shapely, and I can see them caressing me. (I do like to see myself as Renoiresque, although that's not too popular these days.) We fuck with him on top, or side by side, but a great deal of the fantasy is devoted to caressing and cuddling.

Your chapter about acting out one's fantasies was interesting, as about a year ago I met my perfect “Earth Man.” I walked into a college class on the first day, and there he was. I already had a vague idea of my fantasy man, but after seeing Stan, the fantasy really took hold. I was only in the class a bit over two months, but it was agony. To “act out” or not to “act out”?! I made several small gestures of interest, and thought I saw some positive response in him, but I hadn't the nerve to do anything really bold, and the class was over, and I moved away all too soon. Alas – but maybe it's better this way. I still have my dreams, which are probably better than the real person, especially when it would mean going out behind my current boyfriend's back. Still, I get a thrill when I see a guy who looks like my “Earth Man.” Until reading your book, I thought this was somehow immature or faithless to my boyfriend, but I feel much better about it now.

I have a second type of fantasy, which has come into the limelight quite recently, and which I rarely use for masturbation: usually only daydreams. This is my seduction of a young boy. (That I was an only child – no brothers – may mean something here.) The boy is between fourteen and sixteen, and he is soft and lithe, yet not puny, with long flowing, wavy blond 177

hair. He has very little body hair, and only the faint beginnings of a moustache. He is a virgin, and I have to teach him everything, even how to kiss. His lack of experience makes him shy but he is almost mad with horniness, and I bring him off with my hand first, after much foreplay. He can't get enough, and neither can I. I teach him different positions – a good one to start with is him on a chair, and me sitting astride him. I am in complete control and show him all the ways of pleasure I know; his erection keeps coming back again and again. Finally, after a wild night of insatiability, we fall asleep – he looks like a young angel, lying exhausted and sweating beside me, with his mane of fair hair in tangles and his young cock wet and limp. I feel rather old and wise (and very satisfied!).

I found myself beginning to act this one out too, when I recently was working with sixth-grade children. That's a bit young for my taste, but a few of the boys were mature enough to show a little bulge in their pants. One in particular struck my fancy, and I began to ask him to come to the classroom alone during free periods to help me with art projects. He wasn't much like my favorite fantasy-boy, but he was tempting just the same, and I really had to restrain myself. I guess women over eighteen could get sued for that kind of thing. Maybe in a more humanistic environment than the public schools, I'll get to try this one out someday. I see it somehow as an act of be-nevolence to give a boy a good, healthy, and loving introduc-tion to sex. First fucks are usually pretty shitty. Besides, it turns me on.

I was surprised at your comment that few women have fantasies of seducing young boys. I thought it was rather more common. I guess one likes to think of herself as being in the mainstream.

I hope I haven't ruined these fantasies for myself by revealing them to you. I guess it's too late to worry about that now; if I have, I'm sure I'll come up with new ones.

Unless I'm really repressing them, I haven't had masochistic, lesbian, or zoophilia fantasies. There have been a couple of women I loved to look at, because they were soft and round (again, my “Renoir-obsession”) and just comfortable (like 178

smelling cinnamon rolls baking). But I have no desire for any genital sex with a woman. My lover, however, is bisexual.

Again, my thanks for your book, your continuing research, and the opportunity to “sound-off”!!

Libby

I'm writing after reading your book,
My
Secret Garden.
I'm twenty years old, white, middle class, and semi-crazy, in a good way, I think. Anyway, I am living with a man I've known almost a year now. He's a good lover, the best I've ever had, and I'm satisfied and contented in his arms. I don't fantasize when I masturbate or when I fuck. I fantasize when my man is around the house but we're still apart.

I can get all my work and “creative outlets” out of the way during the day, so I'm ready for talk, love, etc. My loved one works hard at a white-collar job all day, and when he comes home, he's ready to read the text for the class he's taking, and/or working in the shop downstairs. He never excludes me from his activities; in fact, he encourages my interest, but some days, I just really feel like making love. Sometimes we'll play seduction games, but usually I just read and fantasize that he rips the book from my hand and carries my body to the bedroom, that he takes off my clothes and fucks me on the kitchen floor, or that he unplugs the sewing machine and attacks my little body. What makes this one fantasy so nice is that it may happen, more than one would expect. I've been made love to in almost every room in the house (I recommend the bathroom), and when it happened, I was hoping it would. I think this is the most basic and common fantasy – the old white-knight-take-me-away-from-all-this syndrome but I thought I'd write it down and send it along. Good luck.

Phyllis

Dearest Jennie:
Even after more than a day, I'm still so thrilled by our shared experience that I just have to tell you so.

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Even though we were two women, still it was a sweet and wonderful love we had for that brief hour.

You are absolutely delicious, my darling, with that satin-soft glowing. skin and marvelous figure. I loved smelling and tasting you all over your body, and my delight in this became almost frantic as we grew more intimate. How your tight throbbing nipples swelled as I kissed them! Never shall I forget their slightly rough texture as I nibbled at them in turn. And then when you murmured for me to slide my fingers down the cleft of your bottom. Sweet, your little hole there is so soft yet tight, so moist and musky. And it really excited you, didn't it, when I worked my fingertip up inside it? My finger felt good too, being in you there.

But of course it was your hot sweet cunt itself that drove me wild. You don't mind my calling it your cunt, do you? Although I guess some women feel that's a vulgar word, I don't think anything about you could be vulgar, and I like to think of your big hole as your cunt. And, oh, honey, how its inner flesh opened out as my fingers traced your slit. It quivered and grew very wet and hot. You did love having me caress you like that, didn't you? Of course you did, I knew by the way you wriggled and gasped.

And then when my mouth went right down on you. All that hair and soft flesh. The glorious smell of you, and the exciting taste of the moisture that seeped into any mouth. And – I suppose this is awful of me, but I couldn't help it – I loved having my nose crushed against your little bathroom place in your bottom and smelling the rich flavor of it. I wanted to just eat you up all over, gulp down all the liquid and substance of your body. I love all of you!

It's perfectly all right, dear, that you didn't do as much for me in return. I realized that you were too excited, and that it was all happening too quickly. Just your hands on me were enough, the touch of your fingers so soft and warm and loving.

And you did go in my hole a little, and tickle the very top of my cunt where it feels so good. I had a wonderful come, when you did. As I felt you straining and heard your choked moans, when you hunched and ground your cunt and ass on my mouth, I knew you were climaxing hard, and my own cunt just flamed 180

into ecstasy. Oh, sweetheart, it was all absolutely wonderful, and I'll never, never forget it.

Oh, Jennie, let me suck your cute little cunt again, and soon.

Will you, dear? Please?

The writer of the above letter finishes with a P.S. addressed to me:

“Dear Nancy Friday,” she writes, “I never sent the enclosed letter, because the events it describes never happened, and Jennie would be horrified to learn my feelings about her. It's a fantasy letter about a fantasy experience. But I found that writing it this way made it all seen more real to me.”
Marilyn

I'm just about finished reading your book,
My Secret Garden,
which I find very good and honest. I'm eighteen and have an average sex life, but I can do without it for some while.

I picked up your book at an airport recently, after a visit to my sister (she's thirty-three), during which she told me that she had become a hooker. I was shocked, because I have always loved her and looked up to her. Due to the difference in our ages, she has always been practically a second mother to me.

My boyfriend, Howie, recently discovered I was reading your book, and after skimming through it, asked to borrow it.

A few nights later when he came to my house, he had a friend with him who was named Dave. A girl friend of mine was there too. Howie asked Dave to read some fantasies out loud. I was awfully embarrassed, but that went away after a while.

Maybe that gave me the courage to send you this fantasy, which I would like you to publish in your next book.

I have a one-and-a-half-year-old niece who I love very dearly. I sometimes sit with her when her mother is busy. I love her so much that I often think I would love to perform cunnilingus on her. She just lies there, gurgling and chuckling very happily. She loves me to touch her and play with her.

What I like to imagine is the little smile of happiness she 181

would show if I just put my face between her little legs and licked her. She is too young to think it would be anything different than just playing with her fingers and toes, and I would love to feel I was making her happy this way.

My favorite other fantasy is about a former fiancé. We balled several times, and that was the best time I ever enjoyed.

Maybe it was because I felt safe. We knew each other a long time, and we were in love. Anyway, after we broke up (I still love him), I had sex with other guys, but I always imagine that the guy I'm in bed with is my ex-fiancé. Even if I'm not really in the mood for sex to begin with, just by bringing the face of my ex-fiancé to mind, imagining that he is the one who is kissing me, brings me to orgasm. Keep up the good work.

Moreen

First, may I say that your book,
My Secret Garden,
was great reading; it's about time someone published women's sexual fantasies.

My own particular fantasy started several years ago while I was hospitalized in the hospital in which I worked as a registered nurse. There were two doctors who came by on a daily basis to examine me. They were both quite arrogant and domineering in their mannerisms. As they examined me, they would have me remove my gown and have a great time poking about the most intimate parts of my body.

After they left the room, I fantasized that they were the patients, and I was the nurse in charge of them. My first order was to have them remove their clothing and put on one of those backless hospital gowns while I watched their every move.

Next, I positioned them on an examination table and strapped their feet into the table's metal stirrups. In this position, I have a perfect view of their rears and penises. Since I'm wearing a short skirt with no underwear, I constantly bend over in order to expose myself to them, causing huge erections. After inserting a well-lubricated gloved index finger in their rears, I masturbate each of them until they ejaculate. By this time, they are begging me to continue; since my prime objective is to embar-182

rass them, I decide to give each of them a good soap suds enema at the same time. After locating the longest, largest rectal tubes I could find, I slowly insert it until they again obtain an erection. As the warm soapy water is filling their rears, I masturbate each of them to the point of ejaculation. Just before they come, I quickly remove the rectal tube and release them to expel the enema. I laugh as both of them run to the bathroom, spurting semen as they go.

I should mention that part of my fantasy came true recently when I had to give our house doctor several cleansing enemas.

He was the domineering type who had little or no respect for nurses. Believe me, he got the enema of his life; it's known to nurses as the HHH enema – high, hot, and a hell of a lot.

Wishing you the best of luck in your new book.

Janet

Your
Secret Garden
book is just great. My husband is a librarian and brought it home for me to read. I could hardly put it down once I started reading.

I fantasize constantly to various degrees. Every time I see a picture of Terry Thomas, or any man with a gap between his front teeth, I wonder what it would feel like to have, my nipple stuck between those front teeth in loveplay.

Other than that one particular fantasy, you covered my sexual daydreams pretty well in your
Garden
book. I have never talked about my fantasies with other women, but I always just assumed that “everyone did it.”

I am thirty, work as a secretary, and live separate from my husband, who is raising our two-year-old son. We have sexual relations with other people, but I have never enjoyed anyone other than my husband. However, in my fantasies, I am either watching two strangers making love, or my husband making love to some other woman.