FOREWORD (56 page)

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Authors: Dean

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A couple of years later, I was playing around with everyone in the neighborhood – we were all jerking off together.

But these boys didn’t appeal to me. I had movie fantasies –

Marlon Brando and James Dean. I came from a rough neighborhood, but there was even a rougher part – guys who wore leather jackets and rode motorcycles and were older – I had fantasies about them. I used to masturbate thinking about them.

My breakthrough came when I was about thirteen or fourteen. There was this older boy in my neighborhood. I’d had this adolescent, homosexual adoration of him. He was tall and athletic, blond, and his family had a little money. I think there is this period of time when all boys worship other males, athletes, Greek gods. Remember the move If, when the young boy watches the older boy gymnast and worships him? I’ think all boys go through that; and it is why even grown, straight men still love to watch male athletes.

So one night this older boy was walking me home from baseball; and I’ll never forget, he asked me if I’d ever ejaculated. I didn’t know what the word meant. He explained what it meant; and the next night, we jerked off together; and we kept that up for two years. We touched each other. We got dependent on the relationship. There was love and sex mixed together; it was my first real homosexual relationship. When I look back on it, it is all covered with a lot of fantasies. I still have a lot of fantasies about him. He had a huge penis – although today I might not think so. But in my fantasies he does.

I fucked a lot of girls when I was a teenager. Then I started to get more interested in the men I was friendly with. We’d take two girls to the drive-in, and I’d fuck a girl in the back-Men In Love

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seat, and he’d fuck a girl in the front seat. But I was always more interested in what he was doing and catching glimpses of that. It was almost as if I was having him through that experience.

I like it when men resist. I like it when I have to turn the man on. I feel very powerful that way. In my fantasies the men are always very gentlemanly and proper looking on the outside – but very hot inside. I like it when they do it on my terms.

I fantasize about men I have had, am going to have, or have just had ... how we met, the undressing of them, what happened. I sometimes keep the person’s underwear that I’ve been with, and the next morning when I wake up, I like to masturbate and smell the sexual aroma, remembering what actually happened.

Sometimes I fantasize things that never happened, being with certain athletes I’ve seen in gyms or on TV. Or being in a construction workers’ but with all those sweaty bodies. I once read a poem about some guy who dreamed of being a nurse who was in a hot steamy sewer in the summer with ten magnificently built construction guys who had stripped to the waist, showing their naked, hairy chests beneath their hard hat helmets....

The trouble with a lot of homosexual pornography is that there are homosexuals doing it. When I see a gay porn movie, I’m very conscious of the fact they are two gay men. I find heterosexual pornography more erotic. Seeing straight men doing things together is more exciting to me.

I have a lot of fantasies just walking around on the street.

A gorgeous cop with a helmet and goggles. He would have no personality. He would be sitting on his horse and I would be sitting in front of him, facing him. It would be very important that he have all his clothes on. His cock would be out, and I would suck him off on the horse. Or I would like to be behind him, sucking his ass. But in my fantasies, he practically has nothing to do with it, he is just there for my purposes. I have a lot of fantasies about chauffeurs. I’ve acted a Nancy Friday

420

lot of these out. Uniforms turn me on, all the paraphernalia –

West Point cadets, sailors.

When I’m walking down the street, I look into parked cars and always hope I’ll see a guy with his cock out. Many men do that, they drive around, jerking off as they look at women in cars. So I have this expectation of seeing one.

I have this black tie fantasy. In it, I am in black tie. I’m a little stoned. I might have gone to a big dinner party, and I would be looking like a prince. I will be perfumed and maybe I’ve had a joint and have enough drink in me that there are all these levels going on. There is this chauffeur driving me. My fantasy, which I’ve acted out many times, is then to seduce the chauffeur. I don’t want the chauffeur to get out of the car, to come upstairs. My fantasy is to go down on him in the front seat, in his uniform.

When I masturbate, I have a succession of movies going on in my head. It’s hard to maintain just one. I use a lot of things. I will fantasize about a young guy I once saw masturbating while he watched a beautiful girl at a filling station. I was masturbating watching him, and IT remember that. But I won’t sustain it, other images will enter. Like maybe I’ve just been walking down the street that day and seen someone walking toward me whom I want. My fantasy is that I’ll lie right down on the street and he would lie right down on top of me. I have that fantasy a million times a day walking down the street. I just see people, and I want them. I’ll be going down an aisle in a restaurant and a waitress will be bending over and I’ll just want to stick it in her. I have an instant gratification problem. I want it that second.

I never have S&M fantasies. I don’t like pain. I don’t even like it when somebody squeezes my nipples. That’s very big now. But once I feel pain, I am turned off. There’s too much degradation, say, in pissing on people. I’m too much of a romantic. I like the masterful feeling of fucking, of shoving it in; but other than that, I don’t like inflicting pain.

I’m beginning to fantasize that maybe there is this gorgeous man who has had this operation to become a woman, Men In Love

421

but has still retained his penis. A number of my homosexual friends have recently married women. These are men who were much “gayer” than I. They seem to have wonderful lives; and I say, I want that to be me. I have these fantasies now where I want children, and I want to be a man and not be a little boy anymore. A lot of this new thinking is due to my analysis. My analyst has told me to try self-hypnosis. We all think we are a product of our past, conditioned like Pavlov’s dog. Well, you can be reconditioned too.

One last favorite fantasy of mine is an imaginary name I have long hoped could have been mine. I’d like it if you would call me Nick August.

The majority of men in this book had read one or the other of my previous works on women’s fantasies and responded to my request for contributions. The problem then became an embarrassment of riches: to select, from the thousands of fantasies that came in, those that best represented the themes that had begun to make themselves evident.

But I heard from so few homosexuals that I cannot pre-sume to say this chapter is representative of the gay population as a whole. Why would homosexual men want to read a book about female fantasies? And if they did, I suppose they would be reluctant to reply because they were not sure of my sympathies as a woman. I sought the help of various sex therapists and psychiatrists who do homosexual counseling.

They put my request to their patients, particularly those living with another man. “Why ask
me
to contribute on that subject?” was a typical, indignant response. The inference was that their sexual preference at the moment did not yet definitely name them, in their own minds at least, as homosexual.

I also advertised in widely read homosexual periodicals and had requests posted on gay discussion group bulletin boards.

I received not one reply from any of these sources.

If I had persisted, had searched harder, I am sure I would eventually have collected more material for this chapter. If in Nancy Friday

422

the end I decided not to, it was because I feared all this effort would distort the tone of this work. The men in all the other chapters had essentially come looking for me.

Many men will march in a Gay Pride parade because of the inherent group reinforcement. To sit down all by yourself and write candidly to someone who is, by definition, an outsider is perhaps too much to ask. “There is a tremendous underground of homosexuals,” Nick August (above) writes, “a world where women do not exist.” Perhaps in the future, someone will give the subject of gay men’s fantasies length-ier treatment than I have been able to, but which it deserves.

In all the other chapters in this book, I usually had dozens and dozens, of fantasies to select from, and the only problem was deciding which were the most representative. The theme of homosexuality presented me with no such choice. The fantasies in this chapter are the total number I received on this subject. If I have gone ahead anyway, it is because I felt it would be better to proceed even on an admittedly narrow basis than to ignore an important section of the male population just at a time when they are trying for increased public acceptance.

Nick, whose interview is taped, volunteered to come speak to me. While he did it mostly for personal expression, he also did not want homosexuals to be so comparatively few in my book.

And yet the fact that he
would
speak to me, that he is in analysis and so perhaps more self-aware than most people, puts him in a special category. If I have printed what he has to say at length, it is not because he speaks for all gay men but because what he has to say is so fascinating.

I have called this a book about men who love women.

Nick tells us that many gays despise women. He does not. In the end, perhaps this chapter’s brevity, in a book by a woman, makes its own point.

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JONAS

I’m a homosexual male, sixteen years old. My fantasy: This young male asks me to come to a party at his house, so I go, and he and I are the only ones who are gay. The rest of them are regular. Well, about when the party is over, we’re going into the bedroom. We undress each other. Then he goes down on me and I go down on him. I would like this to happen, but not now.

TOMMY

I am only sixteen and very horny. I really couldn’t care less who I got it on with. But I prefer well-hung men. I have had sex with both sexes. I have this hang-up about being raped by a good-looking guy, black/white, so long as he’s good looking and male. My fantasy starts when I am walking home from babysitting. I have some guy come along and grab me, take me to his place. Then he strips me and kisses me all over my body, while he does it. He then lays me down on his bed and sucks my cock, till it gets real hard. Then he gets some friends (three) and they tie me down and take turns with my body. One would blow me to make sure I stay hard, then leave, then another would feel me up and kiss me French style, while I go into fits of ecstasy. Then he would go after the first guy and the other two would kneel over me. One with my head between his legs, so I could suck him off, and the other would shove my hard cock up his ass and go up and down. They would kiss each other until the guy I was sucking was ready to come. The guy sitting on my cock would take it out of my mouth and start sucking it and spitting it out all over me.

I hope you will publish or print this, so people will know sixteen-year-olds also have secret gardens and forbidden flowers.

Nancy Friday

424

PHILIP

I am seventeen years of age, an Hispanophile and an An-glophile. In my fantasy, I am transformed into a handsome young man with a moustache and a flowing beard. I am, in the beginning, at a party in London. There I meet a beautiful young woman. I find out that she is a peeress in her own right, and in addition to having money and property of her own, is administering the estate of her stepbrother, aged fifteen. She invites me to a house party at her country estate. I accept. When I arrive I am assigned a strikingly handsome Argentinean as my “man.” The house party lasts several weeks, with people coming and going. (Including the hostess, who goes to London Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays to attend the House of Lords.)

One day I come up to my rooms (a parlor, a dressing room, a bedchamber and a bathroom, also a priest’s hole and an entrance to a secret passage) after having a swim. I find my “man” there.

“Manuel,” I say in Spanish, “come here.” “Yes, sir?”

“Manuel, you are a very handsome man.” “Really, sir?” I reach out, grab him, pull him to me, and kiss him on the mouth. There is a struggle, but when I get him out of his livery, and myself out of my trunks, he becomes agreeable, although he still is resistant. I shove him onto the bed and shove my penis in his mouth. He sucks me, kneading my buttocks, thrusting a finger in my anus. At this point, Her Ladyship bursts in from the secret passage, naked, and throws herself on me, while I’m still “riding” Manuel. He ejaculates, and so do I. I release myself from his mouth and plunge into Her Ladyship, while she blows him. Then Her Ladyship and I do sixty-nine, while Manuel copulates anally with first Her Ladyship, and then me. Manuel and I then exchange places, then we “go doubles” with her – first with me in front and Manuel behind, then the other way around. We then form a

“daisy chain” in various ways.

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This scene is repeated with variations. Sometimes Manuel is replaced by the stepbrother, or a guest. Sometimes Her Ladyship is replaced by a maid, or a guest. Sometimes it’s me and the stepbrother, with Manuel watching from a “squint” in the priest’s hole, or with me in the secret room and Manuel with the boy. Sometimes both Manuel and I seduce the boy.

Sometimes Manuel and the stepsister, sometimes ... etc.

Another one that I have is that I am with a friend of mine in the woods camping. We are swimming and bathing in an old swamp. As I come out (he is already), I slip. He catches me and lifts me. The contact of our naked bodies does something. First we simply hold each other, kissing. Then he gets a jar of Vaseline from the first-aid kit, and stroking my chest and kissing my neck, plunges his penis into me. His hands leave my chest and he jerks me off while I put my finger up him. We both come, and, after laying in each other’s arms for a while, we repeat it, exchanging places. We then go back in and blow and jerk off each other underwater.

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