My Secret Garden (Women Sexual Fantasies) by Nancy Friday Read Free Book Online Page B

book has been received even by friends I’d call sophisticated and "liberated." Their reactions tell me how difficult it will be for other people to accept, even to believe, some of the sexual images women say they have, especially during sex. Even harder to believe will be the statements of these women that these fantasies occurred during happy, satisfying sex with men they loved.

    That is why I broached the topic of fantasy during sex 3 with the easily understood idea of fantasy as sexual foreplay; I assume we are all in favor of that, of anything that leads to sex. As the next step, I would also assume that we are all in favor of anything that gives us stronger feelings of reassurance or approval during sex. (I need not explain to my women readers the misapprehension in the idea widespread among men, who have done most of the writing on sex, that because women don’t have the outward giveaway of inner sexual anxieties – the limp cock –that women suffer less and need less reassurance.) Therefore, in the fantasies you are about to read, the fact that women like Sally, Vicki, and Sondra get the desired approval from such universal judgment figures as Mother, the doctor, and even Jesus Christ, should strike a sympathetic chord. If you can understand and accept the idea of female fantasy as a form of sexual foreplay and excitement, the idea that fantasy, by allaying anxiety, can allow the excitement to grow cannot be too strange a progression of thought.

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    Sally

    My friend Sally owns her own small boutique. She’s in her early twenties, has long, multilayered black hair, and the kind of figure that looks perfect under one of her own flowing chiffon designs. She recently finished a yearlong affair with a man twice her age, who, as a parting gesture, set her up in the boutique business. She considers this latest affair "the greatest education of my life." She is still terrifically fond of Alan, her benefactor, and talks of him with enthusiasm. Having known him briefly, and knowing Sally’s zest for anything new, I would imagine that the
    "education" Sally refers to would include some fascinating new chapters in sexual exploration. She admits that he will be a hard act for any new man in her life to follow; "I really am so bored with younger men now," she says.
    I’ve thought about this fantasy quite a bit, ever since I started having it, dreaming it. I’ve analyzed it ten different ways, but I’m still not quite sure what it means. I don’t think I had it before I knew Alan, but maybe I did. He brought me out in many different ways, so maybe the fantasy had been there all along, but I just never acknowledged it until him. It’s really a very simple fantasy on the surface; I have a variety of twists I add to it depending on my mood. Basically, it’s that while I am making love I have this image of me lying there, naked, just as I really am, with the man, or men, and while we are fucking I’m talking on the telephone to my mother. Isn’t that weird? What I have to do, of course, is control my voice, talk to her normally as if nothing unusual is going on. Every now and then she’ll ask, "What was that I heard?" Every time she becomes suspicious, I get wildly excited, but even during those long periods while she and I just chat – far more amiably than we do in reality – I lie there in a great warm bath of arousal. It’s very comfortable talking to her like this, also wildly exciting.
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    She used to come on very heavily with Alan – after all, they’re about the same age. She’s an incredible flirt. Also, she never really approved of me and Alan; either that or she was jealous.
    But she’s always very sweet and understanding to me on the fantasy telephone.
    The funny thing is, when I do come, when I reach an orgasm and I can’t control my voice any longer, she doesn’t scold or hang up as you would expect, she just keeps on chatting in this kind of nice warm voice that she never uses with me in