Beyond My Control: Forbidden Fantasies in an Uncensored Age (32 page)

F e m a l e F a N T a s i e s o F T W o m e N

“Two Straight Men Are Hard to Find”

Perhaps I can more easily identify with the fantasy of one woman with two men, where I am the one clearly desired, a de- manding order, with no guarantees. We jealous types prefer our

threesomes in our favor. There are just too many bad memories from childhood for the likes of us, and (hard as they may be to find) two completely heterosexual males make for a perfect trio. Tread lightly while entering these waters, given that once you dive in, a real threesome is hard to get out of.

However, in fantasy, it’s much easier to conjure up those 100% heterosexual males. A threesome in fantasy is a playground where both men and women enjoy scenes of multiple sex partners giv- ing them all the pleasure hard to find with just one partner.

Patsy

I am nineteen years old from Texas and have had two intimate relationships. I love loud sex. I also like to be talked to “dirty” when I have sex, and I love to hear a guy talk about my body.

I have a lot of fantasies, but one of my favorites is the one where I’m a bimbo. You know the type, the cute cheerleaders who’ll fuck anything, anytime, anywhere. I’m usually wearing a skirt, no panties, and a button-up shirt, no bra. I’m at a football game, and the home team has just lost, so I go down to the locker room to make the guys feel better. When I get there, there are only two guys left. One is the real athletic type, and the other is thinner, a kind of nerdy virgin.

I see the athletic one sitting on the bench with no shirt. He’s a little dirty and sweaty from the game. He tells me to sit down on top of him. I do. He then starts to run his hands up my legs and under my skirt. Then, a smile starts across his face because he’s found bare butt. I slide down a little so I can undo his pants and let out his now-erect cock. I then get on top of him and settle onto his large cock. By now my shirt is undone. He tells me to lean over so he can suck my tits.

It’s now when I see the other guy. He’s standing there holding his cock. It drives me crazy. I tell him to come over, and he does. I grab his cock and start sucking it. Then, the guys decide to turn me over so that I’m on my stomach on the bench with my ass in the air. One guy is behind me, and the other is in my mouth. We fuck until we all cum together.

Holly

I’m Holly, twenty-three, consider myself attractive, and since the age of five or six, my fantasies have had to do with threesomes and bondage. They range from elaborate scenarios to short images. I never fantasize about strangers, only about people I know and love. There is this one in which a friend of Leo’s (my boyfriend) and mine (a really muscular, sexy, but very shy, guy) jokingly suggests we should all shower together. I would love to give this guy head with Leo looking on. Maybe even having Leo grab me by the hair on the back of my head forcing me down to suck the other guy’s cock, forcing my head up and down while he nods his approval. Or sometimes, I gently kiss both of them in the shower as we all lather each other and then maybe hop into bed for a wonderful threesome.

Bobby

I’m a forty-seven-year-old widow, and in my fantasy, I pretend I’m having sex with two men, always being in control, making them fuck

each other and suck each other off. Then, I switch back and forth from one cock to another until I make them both cum. Or sometimes, but not usually, another woman and I work over one man. We make him watch us 69 each other, suck each other’s tits, kiss each other, and finally allow him to join in.

In reality, my husband died while we were having sex. He was my best friend, my lover, and my greatest playmate until his death at only thirty-seven years of age. He died making love to me on Christmas Eve of a massive heart attack; I still have not totally recovered from that horrible experience. I met him when I was only seventeen years old, and he was my first and only lover until death. I’m now alone. Believe me, I have heard every bad joke about dying in the saddle, a nightmare. If it weren’t for masturbation, I would have no sex life at all.

Bobby’s is a poignant story. Perhaps she finds comfort of a threesome in the insurance that if one should disappear, she wouldn’t be alone again.

Elaine

Elaine, a college student and a virgin, always felt fat and ugly. Now she sees that perception as drawn out of insecurity. She also fantasizes having sex with two men. But one of the men is her obsession, a gay male friend. She watches him satisfied, top to bottom, by a male porn star before they both take care of her.

I consider myself to be bisexual. At first, I thought I was only going through a phase. I masturbated while looking at pictures from magazines and catalogs and pretended these people were my lovers. I

figured I would grow out of this, but then I fell in love with a woman I worked with. Her name was Audrey, and she was exquisite. I fantasized about her
a lot
until she moved away and got married.

I am extremely turned on by men kissing and having sex. I’m not sure how this came about, but nothing gets me wetter. I saw an old gay porno film at a friend’s house and came several times during the movie (without even touching myself—a first!). I was very aroused by the star, Joey Stefano, who died a long time ago of an overdose but had a gorgeous face and body and intense eyes and appears to love getting fucked by a man, even though there were rumors he was straight.

At the time, I was hopelessly in love with a man who lived in my apartment complex named Alan. No matter how hard I tried to get him to go out with me, he gently rebuffed my advances. My best friend told me she thought he was gay, and a lot of other people agreed. I didn’t want to take him out of my fantasies completely, so I changed them to accommodate his homosexuality and still get me off!

In the fantasy, I go to Alan’s for his twenty-fifth birthday party. After the presents have been opened and the last guests have gone, he asks me to stay for coffee. He breaks down in tears, and with great concern, I ask what’s wrong. He tells me that he’s gay and has never had a man, and it’s depressing him. He doesn’t want to go to bars, so I tell him not to worry—I have someone perfect in mind. I call Joey Stefano and ask him to come over.

Soon, Joey arrives, wearing a white T-shirt, black jeans, and motorcycle boots. The attraction between Joey and Alan is immediately obvious. I stand up and say, “Well, I’d better go.” Joey asks me to stay and watch the fun. Now how could I refuse an offer like that?

We all go into the bedroom, and I sit on a chair while Joey and Alan fall onto the bed, French-kissing passionately. Joey unbuttons Alan’s jeans and pulls at his huge, hard, throbbing cock. He sucks it and licks his balls

until Alan cums, spraying semen all over his chest. Then, Alan returns the favor, deep-throating Joey. After that, Joey and Alan take turns fucking each other in the ass, and they collapse into each other’s arms.

I get up to go, but they hear me and ask me to stay. I walk over to the bed, and they tell me to strip. I lean back against Alan, and Joey drops to his knees at the foot of the bed. “Here’s to the start of a beautiful friendship!” he says and starts flicking my clit with his talented tongue. As I pump my hips, grinding my cunt against Joey’s face, Alan caresses my breasts and nuzzles my hair and neck. I cum, screaming their names.

j e a l o u s y

In reality, I’d suggest not diminishing the possibility of being left out in a trio. Nothing puts a soggier damper on a hot sex scene than that old “Why are they having such a good time and not including me?” We’ve pictured the threesome in our mind, just so, where we “pull the strings.”“They” move and do exactly what we wish, precisely as we see and feel the scene, written, directed, and starred in by us. Here is the beauty of fantasy, our very own home movie where we are the master/mistress of all that hap- pens in this little scenario in our head.

But what if they aren’t acting in reality like they do in our fan- tasy? “Hey, you two, remember me, the star of this picture? Why am I on the cutting room floor?” Have you seen your beloved go- ing down on another person? Maybe you have in fantasy where you control everything. So, forget about reality. If your imagina- tion goes to threesomes and you are pleasured by the site of two,

or desire to be pleasured by two, follow the leads of people in this chapter—and enjoy!

Alas, in reality, erotic trios can’t help but turn into various one-on-ones. Think of when you were young and three of you played together. It wasn’t unusual for us girls to leave out one. It didn’t begin that way, but the temptation was there, a seed often planted by parents who favored one child over another, though they would deny it.

Even if the three of us talk it through so that everyone knows the script, their part, who can foresee what may happen when each is on his or her own erotic trip? Once the blood starts heat- ing up, two of the three can start seeing one another with new eyes, new fingers and body parts, and before you know it, the trio has turned into a duet, leaving the third party a voyeur of sorts. Sometimes, the voyeur doesn’t get a big bang out of it. Those of us who’d rather not get involved in a threesome very often have memories of being left out of the childhood “romance”; others simply know too well the grim pang of jealousy. Some- times, it’s not another child that is favored but the intense, tight relationship between the parents that doesn’t leave room for the child. To be a voyeur of your parents’ love affair can leave its mark. The grim pang of jealousy when one is young, does it ever really go away? Even later on, when a mate is faithful, suspicion is still there. A fantasy of either watching or being part of a trio

would be hell.

Being the third wheel of my mother and sister had its toll. For those of us who never want to be left out again, we choreograph in fantasy our little party of three so that we get everything we desire. Sometimes, the third party watches, which can be fun for either the performer or the voyeur. Sometimes, all hell breaks

loose. Our beloved gets jealous, decks the other guy, and carries us off in triumph up to a blessed orgasm.

We are so defined sexually—our feelings about our body, what we can and can’t let ourselves do sexually—all from a time we often don’t remember. But these secret memories are the keys to what brings us to the erotic edge, until we are let go like a wild kite on a string no longer attached to this Earth.