Forbidden Flowers (28 page)

Both my husband and I are the same size and weight as when we married, and I feel we look a few years younger than we are. I am on birth control pills, so have no fear of an un-191

wanted pregnancy. (But if I did have one sexual activity with a man outside of marriage, it would be sure with my luck, I would get v.d.) I am sad my sex life is not better.

As you can see, I have not excluded the idea of sex from my life even if my life is barren of sexual pleasure… I tell myself I am incapable of sexual fantasy, but even the fact that I have outlined above to you various ideas of sex with other people …

I suppose this does mean I too have my fantasies. They are simply to feel that exquisite pleasure that must be orgasm, to feel aroused by someone or something … a pleasure that must be everyone's due. At this point, I would indeed gladly pay for a man's pleasure, and only wish there was such tithing as male prostitution in our culture. I am sure that once in the hands of an experienced lover I could feel: all the things I have dreamed of one day knowing.

Venice

Thank you, thank you for writing
My Secret Garden.
l saw you on a television show, but when I went to buy your book, I couldn't afford the hardback price. What a mistake! Anyway, yesterday I saw it in paperback and started reading it this morning. Now it's three in the afternoon, and I
had
to stop reading. So far I have masturbated manually for the first time using just my finger (being twenty-two and brought-up liberally, I thought something was wrong because I
couldn't),
called My husband home for lunch for a fine “regular” orgasm, masturbated manually in the tub, and finished with two more orgasms in my usual stream-of-water way. I had been using this for years, but it was a mechanical thing – waiting sufficiently long (one-half to one hour) for release, and what I have been missing is fantasy! I have been turned on by porn and smokers my husband brought home for us, but nothing beats imagination. I admit today I “helped” by reading your book, but/ I have at last recognized the tip of the iceberg of my own fantasies. Just for the record, I get off on animals and big black

:hen (I'm white and once had a black lover). Who knows, I may find more tomorrow when I read the second half! Dr. van 192

den Haag says on the cover that your book is of “considerable scientific interest.” BULLSHIT! Science be damned! I'm interested in sex! If my cunt wasn't sore, I'd still be at it. Instead, I'm going to call my girl friend and make sure she buys a copy
today,
at any price. If praise is the word for effort, please accept mine, and yes, my love.

P.S. If this disorganized letter seems a little shaky, it's because I still am.

Libby

Today I bought a copy of
My Secret Garden,
and I've read about half of the book. I think it is fantastic – a book every woman should read!

I see myself in parts, particularly the running faucet in the tub! That is how I masturbate too, and while reading the book I became so aroused that I just stopped and went into the tub for some sexual release! My fantasy was that my half-brother had just come into the bathroom while I was in the tub. He was talking over his shoulder to his wife as he came in so he did not see me in there. He has already unzippered his fly and has his penis out, ready to pee. He closes the door behind him and turns around to do his business. Instead, he sees me, naked in the bathtub! I am holding my fingers to my lips, to shush him, and he quickly gets the idea. I swivel around in the tub, so that my legs are open, not to the water flowing out of the faucet, but to the stream of pee that arcs out of his cock and hits me right in the clit. (Incidentally, I have been to bed with him several times, and he's definitely
good!
)

This may not be much of a fantasy, but since no one was around, and I wanted to be balled, it really got the job done!

Thank you for making it possible to write this.

Dorothy

Hi. I'm eighteen years old and really oversexed, but it's a lot of fun. I don't remember hardly any times I've fantasized while 193

I was fucking, but I do when I masturbate. When fucking, I just get into the guy and how it feels and the sounds; it's really nice.

I think I was three or four when I started masturbating (maybe younger), but the first time I really got off was the day I'd been to the doctor and saw a baby getting a shot, and I went home and masturbated and thought of what his little butt looked like.

Masturbating is good for you really (although some people don't agree), because if a person can make herself or himself feel that way, think how much better it will feel when another person is doing it to you.

When I masturbate, my fantasies are being fucked by (the father of my baby) this guy I really love, or this guy I went out with a couple of years ago who was really good-looking and 6'

4”, and in the fantasy, he has a really gigantic prick, the biggest I've had. (I wish I'd had a chance to really find out.) .

And sometimes I fantasize that I'm a virgin (I don't think I ever was), and some guy with a really big cock deflowers me, and it hurts like hell, but I love it. The scene takes place very often in some uncomfortable place that's very small … like those old movies you see on television, where the bride and groom get on a train to go on their honeymoon. I imagine I just married this guy with an enormous cock, and we're in a tiny little lower berth on our wedding night. I can see that enormous powerful bulge in his pants as I begin to get undressed in there, and it frightens me. But the space is so small, how can I get away from him? By the time I'm undressed, he's taken off his pants too. I think to myself that at least I'll have a little more time, he still has his shirt on. But suddenly his cock gets even bigger, it pokes out from beneath his shirt, like a tent-pole. He won't wait, and I push myself back into a corner to get away from it. But the corner just props me up all the better for him. I'm sort of sitting there, my shoulders up against the wall, my legs spread wide open in the tiny bed, and he throws himself on me. I scream as he comes at me – it's grown so big now that it looks purple and angry. In my mind, I like to make him come a little even before he's in me … I can “see” the little 194

white beads of “come” spurting out, as if his cock is frothing at the mouth to get into me.

It hurts like hell. I scream, but not too loud. I don't want the conductor to hear us. He's got one hand on my mouth now so that I won't scream anymore, and the other hand is guiding this enormous piece of meat into me. He's pushing and pushing. I am afraid that my skin will tear … not only my “maidenhead” (in this fantasy I still have it), but even the outer skin that holds the lips together. “No, no, no,” I'm half-sobbing, but nothing stops him. He's just smiling down into my face,; and then with a terrific grunt, he shoves it all in, and I almost scream with the pain. It's at this point in my, fantasies that I very often scream too in real life, because I've come to an orgasm.

I have this thing about big cocks. Just the way they feel being stuffed into my cunt, it really turns me on. I guess if I could have a really gigantic one, it would'', stop those fantasies (but I hope not).

When I was small, I masturbated with my fingers, thumb, or just rubbed my hand down there. Now I use fingers, bottle, or vibrator.

Thanks for letting me write you.

Liberated Lady

First, my background: Brought up by upper-middle-class folks … never participated in “sinful” activities for fear of going to hell (what a joke!). While in nursing school, I met a terrific guy from lower-middle class with no hang-up as far as participation in sex went and who had many chicks of all ages and status. Went out exclusively together for a year and a half without having intercourse (he only had two chicks in that time). My first experience with intercourse was the beginning of a new and enjoyable chapter in my life. From then on, we screwed as often as time and circumstance would permit, on the average of two times daily. Five months later, I became pregnant and after an unsuccessful attempt to abort (under doctor's care) we eloped. That was almost nine years ago. My present age is twenty-eight and my old man is thirty-one. Let's 195

call him Z. I can truly say that I'm sexually where I'd like to be, and can attribute most of it, if not all, to Z. No one else would have put up with me for so long until I came around. I never talked about what was on my mind concerning sex or my fantasies until a year ago. Although I enjoyed sex in my own head at the time, I never had a climax until two and a half years into the marriage. What a drag as I look back to it now. It happened almost by accident. After thoroughly reading
Of Human Sexual
Response
by Masters and Johnson, I realized it was high time I educated myself, as far as what response really is. I followed diagrams of the vaginal area in detail and compared them with myself. While taking a bath one day, I let a stream of water glide over my clitoris. It felt terrific, I couldn't understand why.

I stayed with it for a few moments, and bingo I finally understood the damn book about climax. Shit, it blew my mind! I guess I really came to realize what frigidity was about too. For many reasons, not understandable to me, I remained cold with Z as far as my climaxing went – but completely let loose in the tub daily (and still do a lot). It only took a matter of minutes (sometimes seconds) to get off. I still have lots of hang-ups, I guess, and the faster I climax with fantasies, the better. I enjoyed watching my pelvis move almost involuntarily and my breasts and nipples get taut and pointing. I usually thought what a gas it would be for Z to be there. He'd flip. (And did when some years later he was present.) Also would imagine that the water was actually Z's tongue or a friend's hands.

Then we moved to our present home, where I got to know myself. I had everything I had once thought of as “everything”

– material stuff (out-of-sight home, driver's license, and own car, pool, furniture, gardening equipment, clothes) as well as two great healthy sons and one hell of a dynamite husband. But then liberation days came around, and I too wondered what was important and why and where I was going. We got into smoking grass, and it helped me relax to a great degree. I'm a very hyperactive person. I decided to get into my head, and did with feelings and stimuli simultaneously rather than purely response. Z has always enjoyed talking about sexually stimu-196

lating things, and once I made my mind up to go with him, I found it surprisingly easy and enjoyable.

Which brings me more or less to the present. We've taken a few trips in the privacy of our home, which have also helped me to understand and accept what goes on in my head.

What did I fantasize about this morning as I was entering the climax stage? While sitting on the front porch, I had my bathrobe fully opened with the sun beaming down on my body.

My hands felt cooling to my hot breasts, and as I touched my quickly responding nipples, I could feel my whole body tingle.

I opened my legs wide and let the hot sun find it’s way to my cunt (about the same time my fingers did). I gently and slowly transferred some vaginal juices over the clitoris, which was already fattening from sheer pleasure. I sat back a bit and just watched the show. I thought of the time one of Z's friends and I were in bed together. (Just for the record, Z knew we were going to make it and encouraged it. Since then, we've had threesomes.) He had fabulous fingers and made me flip with pleasure. I continued as he did and ended up getting myself off in record time. (From start to finish: four minutes.) An hour later, after a swim in the nude, I laid in a reclining beach chair for a smoke. The sun was still hot, and it felt great on my cooled skin. I flashed on the night before, when Z really got into eating pussy. His tongue encircled my clitoris heavenly to a climax. By this time, my fingers were taking the same path

– and ended with similar results.

Then there was the time when Z and I split up for a few days, and out of the blue, the very first night alone a friend (X) came by and asked if I wanted to ball. I was taken aback, and flattered silly. It did wonders to bring my ego up to par – then some. He was eight years younger than I, and talking revealed he only made it with one other chick (his wife, who was then pregnant, X wasn't sure if it was his doings). He came on strong, embracing and soul-kissing me. His hands were all over me so quickly I couldn't keep track. It really turned me on.

I had only screwed two others, but this third. mate was different and very stimulating. I had thought of making it with him on a few occasions before, on a fantasy level. Because of his age, I thought it would be me who would be the aggressor, like 197

in
The Graduate
scene. As it turned out, it was quite the opposite, and it did good things to my head, not to mention other parts of the anatomy. Every inch of me cried out for more-and more he gave. Before long we undressed, and he kissed his way from mouth to cunt in an unforgettable manner. Once he reached my clitoris, I couldn't say exactly what I thought for some time; my pelvis didn't want to stop grinding away until I was having endless climaxes. Both of us were flipping out on the experience (I didn't think I could be so relaxed and nothing but sex ran through my head for a few hours). We moved our position and proceeded to ball, which was out of sight. After a cigarette, I went down on him. It was a novelty for him that he readily got into. I found myself digging, tickling, and titillating his sensitive cock. He completely freaked over it, and wanted to stay all night. Unfortunately, we'll never make it again

'cause of circumstances as they are, but it was definitely a plus to the way I feel about sex these days.

What are my sexual fantasies? Hard to say, since most of them become reality. I dig making it with different guys, that's for sure. It opens your head up, and I can enjoy myself fuller with Z, which is where it's really at. I hold our relationship high, and all I do more or less is to strengthen and keep that relationship open and honest. We tell each other everything we do and think and fantasize.