FOREWORD (55 page)

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Authors: Dean

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Noblesse oblige. I hope we are moving into a time when if a man does not become erect, it will not be seen as a failure, merely as a sign that he is not in the mood at the moment.

Perhaps the difficult period of transition we are going through is easier for women, since they are the activists, intent on throwing off notions of inferiority. What the new equality asks of men is more difficult: to give up exactly that position of inflated superiority on which their sexual self-assurance was based. Unfortunately, I am not aware that history has ever recorded the voluntary resignation of any ruling class.

I always enjoy reading and rereading the fantasies in this chapter; on the whole they are more fun than almost any other category I have collected. It is not surprising that such a high proportion of their inventors would like to live them out.

The average reader may not wish to go where these men are –

into bisexuality – but we must all envy them their freedom from guilt, the great enemy of sexual pleasure.

WILL

I am now twenty-seven, white, a sort of former “hippie,” very much interested in the back-to-the-land movement. I can just remember finding out about sex, when I was about eight or nine years old, which is when I began to masturbate. It was Men In Love

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also at this time that I was “discovered” by my father. Although neither of us said anything about it, I instinctively felt that it was wrong. Not that it stopped me, but I felt guilty about it. I have a sister who is one year younger than I, and I used to lie awake nights when she had friends stay over, and imagine doing things with them, as I listened to them in the other room, while I jacked off. I never really had a clear idea of what I meant to do, only that it involved their falling in love with me. Probably because I felt myself to be ugly, and was not “in” socially.

At about twelve or so, I had a few episodes of mutual masturbation with a friend of mine, and had a brief affair with a boy when we were both about nineteen.

I finally lost my virginity when I was twenty-one, on a night when we were tripping. Luckily, she knew what she was doing, because I sure didn’t. I didn’t even come from fucking her, because I didn’t know I was supposed to, but she didn’t mind, because my cock stayed hard for six hours!

After that, I lived off and on with three other women, and was enjoying myself. Then, while on a visit to some friends, I met a woman, went to bed with her that night, moved in with her the next week, and we got married three months later. I was lucky, and after three years, we are still both amazed at our luck, and our love for each other. However, after about two years, we both felt that something was missing. We wanted to avoid getting trapped in traditional man/wife roles, but were both afraid of “losing a good thing.” However, about my fantasies. Here is one I use while masturbating:

We are at a party at our house, with lace curtains, oriental rugs, plants everywhere, candles and kerosene lamps, just three of us, my wife, myself and a male friend. I play my guitar, songs of love, songs with and without words, where the whole atmosphere is overwhelming love. I sit on a chair, while he and my wife cuddle on the couch. Then I put down my guitar, and we go into the bedroom, and spend what seems like hours kissing, touching, caressing. At first each of Nancy Friday

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us is concentrating on my wife, then slowly I start touching him more openly. I he on the bed, with my legs on the floor while she sucks my cock, and touches my balls and ass, and he is behind her, slipping his cock inside her, and his cock is huge. Then he starts to suck my cock, and I move around until his cock is in my face, and it’s nine inches long, and wet from my wife, and for the first time, I start to suck a man’s cock, not a boy’s, and I love it and won’t stop. And then I start to fuck my wife, while she sucks his cock, and I watch him getting ready to come, and he uses his hand to help her because she can’t get all of his cock in her mouth, and I keep fucking her pussy. I feel her starting to come, and I see him come, with his cum shooting onto her face, and she’s desperately trying, then succeeding, to get it into her mouth, swallowing it, sucking him dry, and she’s coming, and I come and fill up her sweet pussy with cum.

JIMMY

I am a thirty-year-old man living in Carmel, California. I studied to be a lawyer, practiced for a year, and dropped out to crew a yacht to Hawaii. Since then, I’ve been something of an adventurer, getting involved in mountaineering, and traveling extensively. I’m also a French translator, specializing in books about the sea.

Sex has always been a happy, satisfying part of my life. I lost my virginity at fourteen.

I’m going to talk about a rich, recent fantasy about making love to a man; but first, I want to deliver myself of a paean to women. They are wonderful) In all shapes and sizes, in ways that never fail to move me. A partner’s orgasm can be so beautiful that it often seems more important than my own.

My current lover is one of the most erotic women I’ve ever known. She has “the divine gift of lechery,” and our sex together is fantastic. She comes explosively, and I feel like Superman. We’ve expanded our own considerable field of Men In Love

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experience with anal sex (a bit tight for her), a brief entan-glement with mutual bondage (very exciting), and have recently started looking at our friends as sweet victims of joint seduction. We also share a sexy interest in our own sex, and will probably act out our fantasies before too long.

In this department, I have a better chance than she, as I recently became friends with a man whom I like tremendously, and who also turns me on. After weeks of my suspecting, he recently revealed that he was gay. I’ll call him Chris.

Well, what’s keeping you back, you might ask. Shyness is part of it. I had a number of sexual experiences with men when I was in my teens and enjoyed them. But I was always the passive partner, letting some other man suck my prick. To suddenly become the seducer, to imagine taking hold of a man’s prick, putting it in my mouth, or even (ouch)) my ass, well ... that’s a bit of a leap to take.

Recently I was driving into San Francisco to spend a couple of hours with Chris; and as I bumped along in my VW

bus, I got more and more excited. I could visualize walking into his apartment, confidently reaching for his crotch, and letting it all happen. In my mind’s eye, I could even see his penis, which I’d decided was probably circumcised (a pity; I know more about runts than the average woman, but next to nothing about pricks). I decided that I could manage to take it into my mouth, and could probably even let him come in my mouth, though I’ve never been very turned on by the taste of my own sperm. Would he let me fuck him? I wondered. Chris is so un-gay in his behavior that I had no idea whether he preferred the “male” or the “female” role in gay lovemaking.

What if he wanted to fuck me? That made me a little nervous.

I like my lover to put her finger in my ass while we’re fucking, but I know from experience that assholes are tight little things; I’ve caused pain to the two or three women I’ve fucked anally, though they’ve generally enjoyed the result.

All these thoughts rolled around in my head as I got closer to his part of town. By the time I reached his apartment, I was as Nancy Friday

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hot as any sixteen-year-old demi-vierge who’d decided that this is the day to go all the way. I was ripe.

So what happened? Exactly nothing. Chris was his usual quiet, charming self; and as time passed, I felt the opportunity drift away from me. The more I delayed making an overt move, the harder it got. Finally, Chris announced he had to go to an appointment, and left me to masturbate by myself.

He may never know that I came twice in an hour, on his own bed, thinking about him. I still masturbate to the fantasy of what might have been and have come to believe that given the chance again, I will not let it pass. Bisexuality is not so much threatening to me as novel; after all, I love my own body, why shouldn’t another man love it too ... and me his?

18

Homosexuals

NICK AUGUST

My father, well, I can’t even remember him much. After twenty-five years of practicing homosexuality, I have come to see it for what it is. Homosexuals are men who are so terrified of their sexual feelings for their mothers that they have spent their whole lives proving they don’t have any feelings at all for women. The whole idea of homosexuality is just to deny an erotic lust, a feeling for women, namely one’s mother.

Other fears are involved too, like the fear that your penis is too small to satisfy this huge woman in your life, and the fear that your father will kill you. I have never met a homosexual who is willing to discuss these ideas with me. I think it’s very dangerous for a homosexual to discuss his sexual fantasies because he has to get to women eventually. I will tell you about all the levels of my male fantasies, but what they come down to is women. We have an elaborate network for not letting us get in touch with our feelings about women. I think that it why you have had such a hard time getting fantasies from homosexuals.

Look at all the homosexuals who take out beautiful women. As they drop the woman off, they go and have sex with a man. Meanwhile, they have just spent four or five hours experiencing sexual feeling for this woman; they are not aware of this. They would deny they had these feelings. I ask homosexual friends how they feel about women; and they go, “Yuk! I wouldn’t touch her!” There are a lot of homosexuals who won’t even be in the same room with a woman.

There is a tremendous underground of homosexuals in this country who don’t even deal with women. It’s a whole world where women do not exist.

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I think most men are angry at women. Mothers give so much to their little boys, and then there is this cutoff at night, when she goes with father. Anger.

I think that all homosexual fantasies have to do with the cock. The cock worship in homosexuality is unreal. It’s obsessive. I always say to myself, “I could sleep with any woman in the world, so long as she has a cock.” In homosexuality, the cock is like an altar. Asses are terrific too. Jock straps for instance, the way the straps cut and the ass comes out, it’s like the ass is being served up for you.

I’ve been to bed with lots of married men who are really like nymphomaniacs. They are cock crazy. They seem desperate for it, perhaps because they get less chance than homosexuals to fulfill their fantasies. When you meet a married man who is traveling, who wants to be pissed on or fucked, it’s usually someone with three children, who is a pillar of the community.

I don’t think any man really ever forgets the pleasure he once enjoyed with boys when he was very young. They just get to a point where they know they aren’t supposed to do it, but they don’t forget it.

I think most men – under the right conditions, and if they trust the other man –can be seduced. I went through a period in my own homosexuality of being very turned on with getting someone to have sex who didn’t want to – someone

“straight.” It’s very easy to do. There are a lot of men who will go with you for money – like cab drivers. You say, “You want to make an extra twenty dollars?” But I don’t think that is why they are doing it. Taking the money means they aren’t gay, they aren’t a faggot. I think that is why so many homosexuals get murdered. These people get very very angry at you afterwards.

No woman has ever told me the size of a man’s penis. But that is all men talk about. They remember every other guy they ever knew or saw who had a cock bigger than theirs.

In
Saturday Night Fever
, John Travolta says to the girl,

“You gotta decide now in your life, Annette. Are you going Men In Love

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to put out? You’re either gonna be a nice girl or a cunt.” Women are stuck with this idea. But I think men are even more stuck than women. Being a man is a difficult thing. You are this little boy, you’ve got this little cock, you wet the bed, there is this big woman who is taking care of you, and there is this big man who appears in the evening and takes your mother away from you. You are scared of everything. Then suddenly, you are thirteen. You’re never supposed to be weak or frightened. You’re supposed to be the warrior, the bread-winner. I think homosexuality is a harbor, a safety, for all these frightened boys. Homosexuality keeps you a boy forever.

If you’re a homosexual, there is no responsibility, no children; you never have to be the daddy. It’s safe. This is what you get for being a homosexual: You get to keep your cock, no one’s going to take it away from you, you stay a little boy forever, which is keeping your mommy with you forever.

You always have the fantasy that you are momma’s little boy.

All homosexuals are trying to prove they are not by sleeping with men all the time. The whole elaborate homosexual network is built on this one thing … being afraid of having sexual feelings for mommy.

As difficult as it is to get heterosexuals to discuss their homosexual feelings, it is just as difficult to get homosexuals to discuss their true feelings for women. They refuse.

I came from a very poor straight-laced neighborhood, basically Roman Catholic. There was this beautiful woman there who had left her husband, a saxophone player, for a drunk. It was very scandalous. I was about four. My mother went out to play bingo with this hot redheaded woman; and her new boyfriend, the drunk, baby-sat for me. I can remember having very strong sexual feelings for him. I didn’t know it then; but I was in a very aroused state about him, my first sexual feelings I can remember. I got undressed for bed and he was watching. I don’t think he was interested at all – but I was aroused.

Nancy Friday

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When I was twelve, one day I was playing in the park and a man came up and told me he was a photographer and was doing a special issue on boys. He wanted to take some photos of me peeing, he said. He wanted me to take my clothes off, and I got very frightened and ran away ... even though I was very titillated by it.

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