The New Black Lace Book of Women's Sexual Fantasies

by Mitzi Szereto

'Looks fine to me,' I said. 'I'm just a beginner. I'll take the purple one.' Purple seemed to fit my mood perfectly.

  'There are books there. A wonderful one called simply Clit.'

  'I was looking for The Best of,' I said. 'I can't get those in Geneva.'

  'There are no sex shops?'

  'Not like this. I bought some pink balls though. They were the only things discreet enough. It was a shop in the middle of town,' I added hastily.

  'And how are they?'

  'The balls?'

  The redhead nodded.

  'I tried them once. I didn't dare bring them.'

  'X-rays at the airport,' she said and shook her head.

  'Oh, my God. Wearing the balls and then having them ding as you go through the controls.' I started to giggle.

  The redhead giggled with me. 'There's worse,' she said. 'Wear a harness to JFK and see where that gets you.'

  'I'm not that far yet,' I said.

  She smiled and gave me a postcard. 'There's a masturbation marathon this Sunday. You're welcome to come.'

  I took the card. A 40s-type playmate, who reminded me of my mother, sat atop a Hitachi wand, stroking her cheek with a daisy. Masturbate-A-Thon. 'I'd love to,' I said. 'But I fly out that night. I'm here for a meeting. Work.'

  The redhead nodded. 'Another time then.'

  'I'll just have a look at the books before I go.' I didn't want to leave, but I had to. I was awaited in my hotel by the Empire State Building. There was no pocket of time for me to come back. I bought three anthologies and the purple finger fiddler. It was a start. When the mind loosens the vagina luxuriates.

  Back in Geneva the Earth Mother was calling. I had to nurture and care for and hold those I loved. But I would fantasise, and my cunt would drip with Tahitian pearls as my muse fondled my puckering butthole with creamy fresh butter, his fingers slipping so gently, easing, stroking and poking, making way for his cock so eager to sink home, and thrusting me beyond space and time.

  Then came the eleventh day of September. I emailed the redhead. She said she was safe.

  I slept in chunks of three or four hours. I did not have headaches, but the Earth Mother in me had to learn once again as I tried to pretend I was still this side of bruised. And so I curled up like the child I once was, hiding my hands between my thighs, seeking safety and comfort in that foetal position. It was then that my fingers began their own life and traced gently to dip to my moist inner reaches, and I rubbed and I rubbed until I found sleep.

  Josie, age 36

  Bisexual

  Live-in relationship/marriage

  Children

  Master's degree (PhD candidate)

  Computer programmer/Website designer/Writer

  Wales, UK

  I've always had a vivid imagination but now I have more ideas to work with. I've seen more and done more, so a lot of my fantasies are based on memories of good times rather than plans for the future. But I still do fantasise about things I've never done. I think that I fantasise a lot more about men now that I'm comfortable with being a lesbian. This sounds strange, but when I was a teen, I was quite militant about lesbianism as I felt I had to continually prove that I was really a dyke and not going through a phase. This was mainly because people kept telling me I was too pretty to be a lesbian and crap like that, so being turned on by a man or men in general made me feel guilty. It doesn't bother me any more now – I know that my fantasies are my own and not for anyone else's judgement. Just because I fantasise about sex with men doesn't mean I have to move one in with me and cook his dinner, wash his dirty pants, and listen to him gobbing on about football and cars, ewk.

  I fantasise a lot of scenarios, with the lead up to having sex, the situation, build-up, romantic stu-. There used to be a lot of touching and kissing but very little else in my fantasy; usually they involved a particular person, e.g. a film star (female). This went on for years after I became sexually active, so it wasn't about not knowing what to do. Lately, since my late 20s I'd say, my fantasies have been much more graphic. Hang the build-up, I just want the sex! They involve strangers mainly (feels less guilty than thinking about friends), male and female, both at once, group orgies. I often still have the build-up ones too. Some recurring themes are that I pick up a prostitute (either while I'm pretending to be a man), or I pick up a butch dykey type and I play the high-class whore – very unrealistic as my prostitutes are usually healthy and intelligent and I take them out to dinner and woo them beforehand. I'm rich and pay for everything, of course. Another theme is the deflowering of a virgin – an older teen shy boy, where I teach him what to do, and there's a similar one with a girl, where I get her to strap on a dildo and show her the ropes there as well. A lot of it is about control. I'm calling the shots, but at the end I'm on my back totally out of control.

  Women in uniform appear quite a bit; often I'm in prison and there's a sexy guard who knows how to use her truncheon, so there's power play too. I'm not always in control. Uniforms, muscled women (body-builders, martial arts, etc., but not overly muscled), tattoos, women in men's suits – this makes me sound butch-obsessed, but I'm also turned on by stockings/ suspenders, make-up, revealing dresses, glam. I swing both ways in that I'm turned on by wearing this stu- and by others wearing it as well. I also like to see men in drag. I'm such a perv!

  I never thought I would, but I have a Pavlovian reaction to the sight of a strap-on dildo. Initially I thought they were hilarious and couldn't get turned on by them, but, after about ten years of using one, the association with pleasure overrides how ridiculous it looks. I got a leather jacket when I was nineteen, and have since been very turned on by leather clothes. I especially like feminine women wearing leather, for instance a basque. I love burlesque on men and women. I like contradictions, butch and femme clothes in a mix, such as wearing stockings with kick-ass boots, gender fuck stuff. I think that's why I like drag queens and drag kings.

  I love to strap on a dildo and fuck a woman, and I also love to be fucked in the same way. I like a slow build-up, I'm quite tight at first and need to get worked up before I can enjoy the penetration. But then once I'm going at it, it's the best thing ever. That's why I can't get going with men because, by the time I'm warmed up, they're already finished. Unless it's a whole rugby team, lol.

  I have enough material for a feature film-length fantasy. I've deliberately written it quite matter-of-factly as I can't stand purple prose. Sometimes I get all the way through this fantasy on insomnia nights; sometimes I skip to the chase or dwell on particular scenes. In my fantasy I'm a wealthy businesswoman; I've made a killing on the internet, selling sexy underwear and sex toys. I've decided to open a club in LA or San Francisco, and have to travel there to scout out the place. I contact an escort agency to set me up with someone who can act as my guide. I select the guide I want based on photos (she's young, butch dykey, spiky hair, etc., a bit like Shane from The L Word but not so skinny, more muscled), and get to know her via email before I go. The trip is due to be a month long, and I pack one case full of business suits plus another of stock: sexy clothes and my own brand of sex toys.

  At the airport my cases are opened and the (female) guards see the contents. I'm taken to a private room for a stripsearch by two guards. Predictably, they are both gorgeously butch. I flirt with them while they're searching and they flirt back.

  Then they ask me about the toys in my case and I demonstrate to them. They watch while I masturbate, then use the toys on me and on each other. Two hours later I manage to catch my flight.

  It's a long flight and I try to sleep for some of the way. However, I can't sleep as I'm uncomfortable in the seats, so I call an air hostess. She's very feminine and sexy and gives me the come-on look. I tell her I can't sleep and she says that the first-class compartment is empty – I can use that if I like, and she joins me there. We kiss and she says it's her first time with another woman. She wants me to fuck her, which I do.

  I get to LA and I'm met by my escort, who is even sexier
in person than in her photos. She takes me to my hotel and shows me around, then leaves me to sleep. She is friendly and I flirt with her, but she is quite cool and professional with me and doesn't flirt back. The next day we go through my plans. I want her to show me around the various clubs, shops and sex shows in town, and introduce me to some people. She says we'll start with a lap-dancing club.

  We go to the club and watch some dancing on stage, then my escort asks if I want to get a dance from a girl. I say yes, and ask if she's going to get one too. She says she won't. We go to an area behind the stage and I sit there while this scantily clad girl writhes all over me. Meanwhile, my escort leans against the wall watching us and smiling slightly. At first I'm disconcerted and a bit embarrassed that she's watching, but I forget she's there and enjoy what the girl is doing. Every club we go to things like this happen. The escort acts as my protection, so that I can go and do anything I want and she'll stay on guard and stay sober, but she always watches. I feel her eyes on me when I'm having sex with prostitutes at the back of a club, or when I'm dragged up onstage by a stripper. Anything that happens, the escort is there.

  Several times I make a move on the escort but she gives me the brush-off. She says she doesn't get involved with her clients. She stays professional with me and never lets me get intimate with her, although she sees me in various states of sexual excitement, inebriation and undress. I am deliberately provocative knowing that she's watching. I get sleazy and dirty. Eventually I stop enjoying the sex with other people, because I want her so much. I'll be lying there letting someone fuck me and I spend the whole time making eye contact with the escort while she stands in the corner of the room with her arms folded.

  The month passes in a haze and it's my last night there. I've established some business contacts and have agreed on a premises; it's all going smoothly. I tell my escort that I won't need her services any more as I'm going home the next day. I decide that I'll stay in the hotel that night. We say goodbye and I settle up her fee. But that night I can't sleep and I decide to just go out for one last time. I head to one of the clubs my escort has taken me to before. I'm enjoying the show when out of the corner of my eye I spot her: my escort! She hasn't seen me because she's engrossed in flirting with this femmy woman whom I recognise as someone I had sex with while I was last here. They leave together and I follow them.

  They go to an alley behind the club, and I hide behind some bins to watch them have sex. I am so turned on now, because in all this time that she has been watching me do things like this I've never seen her being anything but aloof and cool. I had assumed she was celibate or didn't like sex. Now she's losing it with this woman and I'm itching to join in. But I don't. Something stops me from approaching her, I feel anxious that there must be something about me that turned her off. After they've finished, they begin to walk back to the club and the other woman goes on ahead while the escort lingers. I have to squeeze behind the bins to hide, but I knock one of them over. She turns around and sees me.

  The escort is angry that I've followed her and she shouts at me. I shout back, saying I had thought in all this time she had high ideals and that's why she didn't want to fuck me but she's just a slut after all. She gets more angry and we start to fight and, as we're struggling, she kisses me. Then she breaks down and says that it wasn't that she didn't want me, but that she wanted me too much. She knew if she allowed herself to feel for me then she wouldn't be able to bear it when it was time for me to go back home.

  We go back to the hotel and we have the most amazing sex that lasts all night. I unpack my case of toys and we use everything several times – she straps it on for me and fucks me senseless. It's the best sex ever. In the morning, of course, I will have to go home, but I don't usually get to that part. In the fantasy the night never ends.

  Pamela, age 51

  Heterosexual

  Live-in relationship/marriage

  Children

  Some college

  Freelance Writer/Editor

  Iowa, USA

  I grew up with all of my uncles' and dad's friends around, mostly musicians and race car drivers. When I was about thirteen, I became enamoured with my dad's friend who wore silk shirts and a gold watch. The sleeves were always unbuttoned and the cu-s rolled up twice. He always left a couple of buttons undone, and he had a very hairy chest. Once I asked him if I could feel his shirt and he let me. To this day I cannot resist that look. I used to encourage my husband to dress like that. Touching his chest and feeling his muscles was one of my biggest turn-ons. I also love men with long hair. I married at sixteen, and, yes, he is an older man, six years older, in fact. Experienced older men still turn me on big time. I still love silk on both men and women, and long hair really gets to me. Handcu-s and men's aftershave – certain kinds – trigger memories that really get me hot.

  When I first started fantasising, I didn't really touch myself. Well, I did, but not to orgasm, just more to get turned on. It wasn't until I was sixteen and married and had an orgasm that I began wanting to orgasm when fantasising. Now that I'm more mature, I have a toy-box full of toys and I actually orgasm every time. I also have an online dominant lover who helps with that. The one thing holding me back is the fact that my husband does not understand my submissive needs and it would hurt him if I went elsewhere to a real dom. He is very vanilla and no matter how I try to explain it, he just doesn't get it. I have never kept secrets from my husband and he knows I have an online dominant.

  Some of my fantasies revolve around memories, but go further than the actual happenings. My favourite fantasy takes place in the bathtub. Master is bathing me and he uses the massage head on my clit, making me orgasm over and over.

  Here's a little story I wrote to my dom about my favourite fantasy. I call it An Email to My Lover:

  Hello Darlin' . . .

  I am missing You so bad. I wrote this today after my shower. I so wanted You there with me. You know how much I hate playing alone. I hate that You had to work today. Imagine the insensitivity of a company that thinks You need to actually work for the money they pay You! LOL.

  As I slipped into the warm water I could feel You there with me . . . smell the soft lilac scent of the bath salts I used . . . feel the touch of Your hands . . . hear Your soft voice whispering to me . . .

  Your hands touching and teasing as You washed my hair . . . commenting on the coconut shampoo and conditioner . . . making jokes about piña-colada hair.

  I could feel Your hands washing my body . . . the soap on the cloth making it feel so incredibly good . . . soft . . . slippery . . . yet abrasive and relaxing . . .

  Your hands teasing and touching as You washed me. Washing every inch of my shaking body . . .

  You told me to lie back in the water and feel You as You explored my body. Hands found my breasts and pulled . . . rubbed . . . teased . . . pinched . . . and flicked a thumbnail over the sensitive tips of the nipples . . . my pussy throbbed and ached . . .

  Fingers slid into the lips of my pussy . . . teasing and tormenting the clit . . . pinching it . . . rolling it . . . pulling on it . . . making it throb . . . swell . . . ache for You . . .

  My body was so turned on . . . as I imagined You stroking and touching me . . . I heard You tell me to turn over . . . You used my small vibe and inserted it anally . . . turned it on high and then told me to sit up on it so it vibrated hard into me . . . Then You used the power shower head . . . running it all over my body . . . all over my breasts . . . especially on the nipples . . . then lower till it hit my clit . . .

  I was moaning so loud and the feelings were so intense!

  I could hear You telling me to open wider, to hold my pussy lips as You ran the water jet over my clit . . . The muscles of my pussy contracting hard . . .

  The vibe in my ass was turned on high and it didn't take long before the two together made me come . . . it was fast and hard . . . the orgasm rolling over me in wave after wave. My body shook so hard . . . the intensity making me scream Y
our name . . . I came twice before I felt relieved and worn out enough to rest.

  I could hear Your voice telling me to relax . . . to feel You . . . You told me You were holding me tight . . . it was incredible . . .

  I finished up my bath and lay there a bit . . . just relaxing and thinking of You . . .

  My hands running along my body . . . slowly touching . . . caressing . . . feeling the sensations . . .

  I could hear Your soft voice whispering in my ear . . . calling me little one . . . telling me how pleased You are with me . . . that I was a good girl and made You so very happy . . .

  My hands (Your hands) soon found my clit and began massaging it . . . pulling on it . . . teasing it . . . as the muscles contracted . . . I found my other vibe . . . my favourite dark blue with the ridges . . . and inserted it . . . I could feel You entering me . . . Feel You as You drove hard and deep into me . . . Your fingers found my nipples and squeezed and pulled them . . .

  Turning the vibe on high . . . You used the shower head again on a lower setting . . . I could hear You moaning and feel You driving into me . . . My legs up on the sides of the tub . . . You drove me wild . . . As I came . . . I screamed Your name . . . over and over . . . as the intensity of one orgasm lightened . . . another would start building . . .

  Your girl came five more times for You . . .

  I lost all thought . . . all memory . . . there was nothing . . . just the feelings enveloping me hard and deep . . .

  Then . . . Your soft kisses . . . Your hands on my nipples . . . the release as I came back down . . . slowly . . . the water surrounding my body . . . warming me . . .

  The cold water waking me about half an hour later . . . I shivered as I got out of the tub and wrapped up in a huge warm towel . . . I lay on the couch about twenty minutes under a quilt getting warm . . . thinking of You . . . wishing so badly to hear Your voice . . .

  I noticed the time and got up to get dressed . . .

  I miss You, my Darlin' Sir . . .

  Show and Tell