The New Black Lace Book of Women's Sexual Fantasies (7 page)

BOOK: The New Black Lace Book of Women's Sexual Fantasies
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Lindsay, age 23
Bisexual
Live-in relationship/marriage
College degree
Customer Service Advisor
South Wales, UK

My main early sources of inspiration were the numerous 'slash'
or gay fiction websites. I lived vicariously through other
people's sex lives – not just the hardcore 18-rated things, but
the build-up, the romance, the arguments, the passion. It drew
me in. At the same time I had begun to appreciate fine underwear
and started to get interested in fetish from a clothing
point of view, realising the huge sexual and sensual promise
in fabrics like leather, PVC and velvet. The touch of them on
my skin was enough to arouse me.

I'm still reading gay fiction, though I now read a broader
field of erotica. I have also kept an interest in the world of
fetish, including tight-lacing corsets, vintage clothes, and
bondage. Although I rarely manage to go to fetish clubs, the
feeling of being someplace where people will appreciate your
corseted silhouette and PVC-clad thighs brings an incredible
erotic thrill. I have occasionally been a Mistress to some very
close friends, and their devotion to me is highly erotic. For
some reason I also have an unhealthy fixation on hot tubs,
though I'm yet to experience their fullest promise.

At first I was very confused about my sexual feelings towards
both men and women – I assumed there was something wrong
with me! As such, I was a late bloomer and did not lose my
virginity until the age of nineteen. When I first became sexually
aware, I found it difficult to touch myself and bring myself to
orgasm without the aid of a vibrator. I was not very in tune
with what turned me on and how to enjoy myself. As I have
come to accept my sexual preferences I have found it easier to
express myself in all ways, and am certainly more attuned to
my own body. It's like I'm more comfortable in my own skin.
I am now in a committed relationship. My partner satisfies me
fully, but there are some fantasies, involving more people, that
I will now never be able to fulfil. I sometimes regret I did not
have a more wild life before I settled down! But I am still able
to enjoy several aspects of my sexual fantasies, like attending
burlesque and fetish clubs, and dressing in a manner that
thrills me. I enjoy a very healthy sex life with my partner,
though I don't have much bondage or fetish included, certainly
not as much as before I met him. He satisfies me in other ways,
and is always willing to try new things, but there's always
room for improvement; life would be boring otherwise!

Generally my fantasies involve me being somewhere I will
never go: for example, a far-off planet, an ocean liner in the
1930s, an ancient jungle kingdom. There I meet people from
contemporary media – shameful, I know, mixing my
fantasies! They variously indulge my whims with me and
people of my choosing. However, a very di-erent recurring
fantasy involves me in heavy bondage, unable to see, but
feeling several people doing various things to me, and I'm
powerless to resist (as if I would want to!). I imagine that
it's di-erent people every time. I must be dominant and
submissive.

Currently my favourite fantasy takes place in Victorian
times. I am a glamorous courtesan – think Nicole Kidman in
Moulin Rouge
, but with more cleavage! My 'client' is a masked
man with long, slightly greying hair and a sultry Scottish drawl.
This, I am sure, stems from my near obsession with Denis
Lawson. He is at first prim and proper until a tango begins to
play and we have the raunchiest dance, gradually ripping off
layers of stiff Victorian clothing until our breath is ragged and
I am in just a corset and dainty boots, and he just in silk
bloomers. I can feel his firm body against me, his hard cock. It
doesn't matter that the room is full of other courtesans and
their partners, I'm enjoying giving them a show! I kneel before
him and offer to taste him, suck him. He catches my hand as
I move to slide down his bloomers and pulls me up roughly,
saying all he wants now is to complete the act we have been
dancing around for the last hour and make me feel him hard
inside me. This new-found manliness turns me to jelly every
time. He shoves me roughly against the wall and does well on
his promise, taking me hard, licking and nipping at my ears
and throat. I can see over his shoulder other couples and groups
taking the initiative. He pulls my corset free at last and, as he
bites and laps at my nipples, I just can't contain myself any
more and come so hard.

Julia, age 42
Heterosexual
Live-in relationship/marriage
Children
College
Teacher
Essex, UK

I realised I was very interested in men by about the age of
fourteen. I used to be mad on soldiers and always found hairy
chests attractive. I knew you couldn't do anything about it,
since girls back then didn't. I've always loved uniforms, especially
police uniforms. I love the idea of play-acting – police
and culprit, fire and rescue, that sort of thing – and even did
some tying up, which was great fun. I still love uniforms and
hairy men. I love rugby players; I'm married to a 6'4" one, but
the changing-room scenario is exciting. I love men together,
find that very exciting – firemen, soldiers, policemen, customs
officers and men in prison. If I could break that in, it would be
very nice.

I used to fantasise like mad about all di-erent ideas, but
most men I've met don't really like it much and some have
laughed and said, 'I'm not doing that!' I have found sex is far
less satisfactory now than when I was young; it's a real dis-
appointment. I've had to dampen down my libido to
non-existent, which saddens me a lot. My imagination has
had to take a back seat; even sex toys scare men, so you can't
share the experience. Having some time to play around,
getting my other half to lighten up, would improve my sex
life. We've not had sex for two years, and I gave up long ago,
it's all solo these days. I would like to fulfil at least one of my
fantasies. A lot of these fantasies my husband could easily do,
but he will not.

In my fantasies I always go in for historical or period
costumes. Usually I'm mistress of a large seventeenth-century
house, and I go out one hot night and come across the groom
in the stables, where he's half-naked either washing or lying
back on the hay. These can take place in various centuries and
take all forms: maid, farmer, lord and variations, rather like
Poldark
and
Pride and Prejudice
but much hotter. I go through
Tudor, Victorian – all the eras! The groom fantasy is my top
one and has been for a long time. I can start it very quickly,
and continue it in chapters, adding more detail each time. It's
often set in early Victorian days.

The house I live in is very large and remote, and the whole
place feels repressed. I came here to be governess to an older
couple's child and the mother has since gone, leaving me as a
companion to a withered-up old lady who sleeps a lot. The
husband is old and reads or sleeps, so life is not very exciting.
All the household sta- have aged with their owners except
me. I'm dark-haired, with my dress buttoned up to the neck,
but have a full figure and very large breasts. I have to contain
all this in a prim dark dress. At night I take off the outer layers
and wander the house with a candle looking for something:
life, passion, feeling. My nightdress is thin and white and my
hair long and loose as I go from room to room longing for
something: to be touched, to feel the heat of a man. I know
that this is what I need, but there's no outlet for it. I go to the
library and get down a book I found by accident many months
ago. It's old and worn and the writing is in French. I know what
it contains as I have found it many times before. The book is
full of old etchings showing men and women in various
pos itions. The women are from another century; their gowns
are lifted up and men are between their legs, licking the
orgasmic-looking women. Other pictures have a woman with
big breasts hanging out from an unbuttoned dress while two
men suck her nipples as a third man plays with her. The
pictures I love most are the ones of men lying, alone in the
countryside or in their study, lazily stroking their cocks or
alternatively rubbing them hard. I look and look, I can't take
my eyes off them. I want to see and feel one. I want it inside
me with the weight of a man holding me down and doing the
things that the women are doing in my book. To look at this
drives me mad and makes the pain of my frustration worse.
My only outlet is objects. The library has a small staircase with
a low wooden finial shaped like an acorn, and by climbing over
it horse style I can get the wooden acorn to enter me. I ride
this up and down to ease the urgency. Afterwards, I take various
items with me and, when I'm back in my bed, I lie down and
let the wind from the open window play over me, using the
objects one by one while rubbing and squeezing my breasts
and imagining if only . . . This has become a nightly occurrence,
and the longing gets worse.

The big house has a large separate stable block with a small
living area inside. I often include this in my walk, stopping to
feed and stroke the horses, then go on my way. The current
groom is a really ugly man who, by great luck, has found
himself an equally ugly woman to marry and they are planning
to move away. This character is called Hilton, and he takes
great delight in shocking me and making lewd comments
whenever I go near the stables. He's so repulsive it means
nothing to me, but this day he tells me that he has a stud horse
of fine quality to breed with one of our mares and asks if I'd
care to watch. I feign uninterest, but secretly I'm curious and
I go with him to the stable.

The atmosphere inside is strange. It smells of sweat and
steam and of a strange kind of excitement. The mare is
reluct ant and backs off as she's cornered by the stud horse.
Hilton looks on leering, telling me that, although they are
animals, it's exciting. I pretend to be disgusted and turn on my
heel to walk away, though I want to watch it all. But Hilton's
face and the atmosphere make me want to leave. In the days
that follow I hear Hilton has finally left and a new groom has
moved into the stable. Apparently he's very good with horses
and expected to do well, being Romany. I know a little about
the Romany and feel excited that a man of mystery is in the
stable. They tell me his name is Jack, and I imagine that he's
probably as old as everyone else.

One hot night I feel more than usually unsettled. It's spring;
the woods around the house are alive again, and everywhere
there's love and sex, but not for me. The night is so warm I get
no comfort indoors so I go outside to take a walk to the lake.
My gown is wet against my body, and I walk on the soft grass
down into the woods. As I pass the stable block, I hear horses
whinnying and see a light in the windows, although it's late.
Out of curiosity, I go over and look through the window. In the
candlelit stable I see horses and a man thrashing about.
Wanting a better view, I slip through the open door, a conveni ent
beam becoming a good place to hide and peer out from. The
scene unfolds like a dream: the groom Jack is the most beautiful
man I've ever seen. He's tall, well over six feet, and has shoulderlength
dark hair. His face is very masculine, with dark stubble,
his shoulders broad. Dark hair spills down his chest, ending in
a delightful trickle into loosely belted trousers. He's sweaty,
he's dirty, and he looks magnificent. He's getting two horses
to mate but is much more successful than Hilton as the mare
is willing. The stud mounts the mare and I gasp in amazement
at the size of his cock. As the stud services the mare, Jack keeps
up his encouragement. The air is so highly charged you can
taste it. The servicing goes on for some time, and I see a change
in Jack's face. His eyes blaze; he runs his hand through his hair
and looks agitated – or is it excited? – as the horse comes
down.

Jack turns to wash his arms and hands. As he rubs the soap
over his body, his movements become more deliberate. He runs
it over his stomach and to the edge of his belt, then he suddenly
drops the soap, walks over to a pile of hay bales and lazily lies
back against them. I sigh, and he looks over; maybe he heard
me, I'm not sure. Jack continues to rub over his chest and
stomach with one hand, then with the other he undoes the
buckle of his belt and opens the first two buttons, releasing a
big and very hard cock. He pulls down his trousers and in the
candlelight traces he grasps it in his hand and, after some very
slow strokes, begins to move his hand faster. The act becomes
frantic and I watch in awe as this magnificent man pleasures
himself. After what seems quite a long time, he groans in a
gentle, low way and comes over his stomach. By this time I
feel faint with desire, but I don't want to move and break the
spell.

Jack stands up after some time and washes his body, drying
himself with handfuls of sweet hay. He makes himself a bed
among the sacks and straw and half covers himself with a
rough blue blanket, dimming his lantern. Not knowing what
to do, I stand there hiding, wanting to go to him as he lies back
with his arms behind his head. There's a movement and I see
that his cock is aroused again, and Jack calls out, 'I know you
are there. I have watched you. I have stood outside your window
wanting you, I have followed you and had to stop myself from
taking you then and there in the woods and by the lake and
everywhere you've been!' He then pulls back the blanket and
I walk over to him. I kneel down and he rips off my flimsy
gown, lifts my hair up and buries his face into my neck, kissing
me passionately.

J, age 25
Heterosexual
Virgin
Celibate
University degree
Marketing Executive
Scotland, UK

Being a randy little madam, anything used to turn me on. I
especially liked lesbian things (which continues somewhat
today) and the whole teacher and pupil scenario. I enjoyed
watching porn and reading anything with a little sex in it. As
soon as I was old enough I was reading those bodice-rippers
that do have some nice sex in them, then moved onto bigger
and better things as I got older. I still like to watch porn (especially
rough and ready sex, lesbian sex, group sex and pure
fantasy films). I also enjoy reading erotic stories. I take things
that have happened through my boring workdays and change
their outcome so that we all get some good sex, which is always
a turn-on when I see their boring selves the next day in the
office and they have no idea what I've been thinking of.

BOOK: The New Black Lace Book of Women's Sexual Fantasies
13.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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