The New Black Lace Book of Women's Sexual Fantasies

by Mitzi Szereto

  Melissa, age 38

  Bisexual

  Live-in relationship/marriage and steady relationships, not live in

  Children

  College degree

  Medical Insurance

  Ohio, USA

  In life nothing holds me back. I've managed to fulfil many fantasies to date and plan to continue. In my fantasy there's me, my boyfriend Michael, my girlfriend Lori and another friend, Rob. Both men are secured to straight-backed chairs. Both have a perfect view of Lori and me as we climb onto the bed and start undressing each other. She sucks one of my nipples into her mouth, which causes me to arch my back and grab at the back of her hair to steady myself. My hands find her nipples and lightly tug on the nipple rings, which brings a moan from her onto my already-sensitised nipple. We're both making sure the guys are getting a full view of everything.

  I bring Lori up for a long kiss and then trail my tongue down her neck to her nipple while I let my fingers skim over her ribs and stomach until they reach her pussy. I slide my fingers along her slit and she's wet . . . really wet, so I slide my fingers into her pussy and watch her face as she starts to fuck my fingers. I let my thumb circle her clit over and over, making sure she stays on her knees. Her body is starting to tighten with the orgasm she's about to have but I stop just before she reaches it. She gets a look to her that tells me I'm in for it. She leans into me and runs her tongue along my collar, between my tits, down to my pussy and lightly licks my clit over and over, and just when I think I'm going to go over the edge . . . she stops.

  Lori and I have pre-arranged a lap dance that has the guys groaning . . . from the sounds coming from Rob he's far from displeased with Lori's performance. Lori and I then change places and I'm giving Rob a lap dance, so close to rubbing my pussy against his bulge it's about to burst.

  Lori and I decide we've denied the guys long enough and we let them loose. Both of us stand and wait for their instructions. I have a slight fear of Rob, and Michael instructs me to give him a blow job on my knees while Lori gives Michael a hand job while fucking him in the ass with one of her favourite dildos. Rob stops me before he comes and suggests we switch partners.

  Lori and Rob climb on one side of the bed while Michael and I are on the other. Michael lays me back and starts eating my pussy like he's starved. While Rob is paying attention to Lori's tits and she's rubbing his cock with both her hands, I start to finger her pussy as Michael gets a glimpse. I start to fuck Lori with my vibrator. Michael uses another of my vibrators on me while licking my clit and I am just about jump off thè bed with the orgasm that hits me.

  Michael really wants to use a butt plug on me and believes I'm ready for it. I lean into Lori, and she begins kissing and caressing me, helping me relax. Michael lets Rob know how nervous I am so Rob starts to caress my tits, ribcage, stomach and runs his hands alternately between my ass and pussy while the butt plug is inserted. I'm relaxed and there's no pain . . . there's actual pleasure and I moan into Lori's shoulder.

  Once we're all comfortable that I'm OK, Lori goes on her back and Rob gets Lori's vibrating nipple clamps to attach to her nipple rings. I'm instructed to suck and lick her nipples while Rob fucks her while using the dong at the same time. Soon, Lori is having a hard orgasm.

  Again, we switch positions, but at my request. Lori and I are on our hands and knees facing each other while the guys are fucking us from behind and watching us tongue and bite each other. Her fingers find their way to my clit and mine to hers . . . the guys find the sight of us getting off on each other so hot that they come . . . hard, gripping our hips so tightly that I cry out in both pleasure and pain. Lori and Rob aren't far behind and Michael and I can hear them groan and grunt as they come as well.

  Name withheld, age 41

  Bisexual

  Live-in relationship/marriage

  Degree

  Administration

  Scotland, UK

  When I was a girl I used to have a recurring dream about being a doll on a conveyor belt, being 'put together' on a manufacturing line. As I progressed along the line, 'parts' were 'added' to me. I was touched and interfered with by automated hands, which didn't know or care that I was sentient. I always awoke feeling 'funny'. I realise now that this was my sexual awakening. (I should clarify that I was never interfered with in real life.) This objectification desire has stayed with me. A lot of my biggest fantasies revolve around being objectified, taken for the use of others without reference to my needs, unable to react or move away from them but inwardly being deeply aroused. In addition, I would raid my father's Mickey Spillane books; they always had one sex scene in them. I used to read them while wanking, although they were conventional sex scenes and never touched on the main subject of my fantasies. My awakening as a bisexual woman took far longer. I used to deny these feelings to myself, having grown up in a homophobic household. I looked at other women and wanted to touch them but told myself I was just being competitive. It took years and a very drunken experience with an old friend before I finally accepted that it wasn't such a bad thing to want this. I now enjoy rubber enclosure, bondage and sex play, but really, I'll give anything a whirl. Nothing is more fun than the pleasure of the unexpected.

  My involvement with the BDSM scene has enabled me to live out and flesh out my fantasies. Within this environment I have been able to explore my desires safely, without revulsion or judgement. It has taken years to overcome a perception that I was a closet whore, with all the societal condemnation that implies, to understand that sexuality can be good clean dirty fun so long as the people involved are all happy to engage. My husband is not 'wired up' the same way as me and doesn't take control in a sexual situation the way I would like, although he tries. He is not terribly happy for me to explore my bisexuality nor is he keen to indulge my fantasy for multiple-partner objectification. A large part of me finds little escape but to dream and read about these things. My fantasies cause arguments and tension in my relationship; sometimes I wish I didn't have them.

  This is an old fantasy I wrote about when I was bi-curious. The curiosity has since been more than satisfied!

  They were at a party. There weren't many there, but those who were there were beautiful. They knew nobody but the host. They had played their 'who would you do' game but gave up, because she would gladly do all the men and he, all the women.

  After a little time, a little wine, and a little small talk, he whispered quietly in her ear, 'OK, so today we are going to play a game.' Her forehead wrinkled, her mouth opened to ask, but he shut it with a kiss. 'I will only play this game if you agree to do exactly what I want without question or argument. I assure you, the prize is worth it.' The game sounded interesting. She agreed to his terms.

  The dining room (for it was a house party) was empty; the music was a dull thud from the living room. She stood with him, nuzzling, but he would not engage with her. A woman entered and stood five feet from them. 'She's waiting,' he said. And she clearly was. 'Go, undress her.' She protested. He whispered urgently in her ear. 'Our game,' he reminded her. 'Do this, or leave now.' So, without looking in her eyes, she slowly undressed the blonde, exposing a rare body which was both slim and full. Only when her necklace caught in her hair was she obliged to look at the blonde. As their eyes met, the blonde winked and the undresser was flooded with relief and surprise.

  The job was done and the naked blonde hopped lightly onto the dining room table, legs akimbo.

  'Now lick her,' he demanded.

  She found that without further eye contact she could lick this stranger. She had never brought her face so close to the damp sex of another female. With trepidation but increasing arousal, she licked. In a sexual cop-out she first licked in a soft wet line from her neck. Bravery spurred a licking trail via significant proud breasts with their hard brown nipples, past softly rounded stomach, to warm wet sweet crotch. Blondie sighed and eased comfortably. She licked. She liked. And so she licked more, bringing her hands up to help her gain access to the j
uices, all caution ignored. She forgot herself, giving herself to the job at hand, sinking her tongue as deep as possible, using lots of spit until her tongue was silken, rubbing, as she herself liked to be rubbed.

  She barely had time to consider her audacity as her own cunt began to moisten, a measure of her excitement. Imperceptibly her body began to yearn to be filled; unconsciously she knew she wanted his familiar cock inside her.

  'Stop.'

  Her hair was grabbed; she was forced face down on the floor. The carpet was dank; mine host had pets. She felt like one of them. Her pussy hoped for breadth and delightful depth. 'Don't move,' she was admonished. So she trembled, her nose to the vile carpet.

  To her horror, she heard the unmistakable sounds of sex. She turned her head barely. There he was, fucking that blonde. He remained clothed, only his cock emerged almost humorously to service Blondie. She sounded like a porn star, moaning like a slut. Praising him, she encouraged him to drive in. 'It's good, mmmm good, go on, go on, go on!' she shouted with increasing urgency. There on the floor, ignored loins were afire, aching to be filled, attended to.

  Listening to them fuck, she humped the filthy floor as much as she dared, her finger sneakily reaching for that nub of pleasure. The warmth in her spread. She was going to . . . she was . . . she . . . oh God . . .

  And with a howl Blondie came, and was spent.

  But on the floor, tears. She lay, frustration tore at her and she wanted him more than ever.

  Her head said 'a little tenderness, a little loving please', but all she murmured was a hoarse, 'Please now!'

  To her grateful relief, attention came her way. 'Kneel,' he said firmly but kindly. So she knelt. He rammed his damp cock into her mouth. It was still hard, and she knew already that it tasted of Blondie. She was so relieved to have him that she serviced his cock gratefully, flicking her tongue over the head, creating a vacuum and cupping his balls. He pushed harder and harder, holding her head so she couldn't escape, raping her mouth. Her eyes watered, she feared she might not be able to breathe soon, she was afraid of his power and intoxicated by it. Finally she retched. He withdrew and quickly pushed her from her knees to all fours. From nowhere he produced a blindfold and tied it tightly around her eyes. 'What do you want?' he said. Her cunt throbbed, the first tingles of orgasm from her time on the floor still clear in her mind. All she could say was 'fuck'.

  The blindfold tuned her senses. She was alert to all.

  With mastery, Blondie and man undressed her quivering blindfolded body. They caressed her, they kissed her and nibbled her and they licked her until parts of her glistened. They scratched her and bit her as she writhed and moaned beneath them. Her body arched to them; she tried to kiss back, to rub against them but they pulled away. At first they were careful never to place more than two hands on her body, trying to maintain an illusion that only one man was delivering this pleasure. They didn't allow the smaller female hand or an unfamiliar kiss to betray them too easily. But, when the heat in her was too high, they allowed themselves to become more carefree. At last they allowed fingers to plunge deep into her, one, then two, then more. Her groan of gratitude was almost orgasmic in itself. And when, at the same time as her pussy was full of fingers, a cock was thrust into her mouth she realised she was deceived. But she didn't care, and stopped only for a brief second before re-submitting to the bliss.

  While greedily swallowing the cock in her mouth, a second cock was slid into her. Slid with the care only a woman could muster, Blondie used her solid, satisfying strap-on to deliver pussy fulfilment. Indeed, she was so wet its considerable girth barely registered. Above this doubly filled form, Blondie and he kissed, their cocks firmly lodged in the party treat below.

  The fake cock was removed; the real one took its place. The relief was real. She sighed and moved against him. The fake cock was inserted in her arse, matching the real one below stroke for stroke.

  So lost was she that when a third dick materialised in her mouth she barely registered that this represented yet another addition to the party. Her new playmate was not forceful, but gentle, smaller in girth than the one she was used to, but with more length. Filled in three holes, pleasure flooded her.

  To her delight, harsh hands grabbed fiercely at her tits and, oh, a gentle sucking began on her clit; how many could gather around one person? This new mouth tugged gently, made her want to come, but every time she built to climax, the flicking stopped. She strained for orgasm . . .

  He had snuck away, left her to her pleasure. He had known she would not fail him. He went to the car to fetch the newly purchased tiny seventeenth-century etching she had so admired. He had bought it for her, this was her prize. A fuck was, after all, just a fuck.

  Gender Bend

  Name withheld, age 35

  Heterosexual

  Single, moderately sexually active

  Postgraduate student

  London, UK

  I first had sex in order to be grown-up, but didn't feel safe with anyone (first boyfriend) or orgasm, for years. I can't be bothered with casual sex; I find it boring and pointless without a mental connection. It's much sexier being walked home by someone and kissed in a way that doesn't lead to sex. I never allowed people to walk me home in the past because I felt I had to offer sex. I didn't know you could (were 'allowed to') sleep with someone and not have sex. When it comes to my fantasies, I've dreamed about Eddie Izzard, and find Pedro Almodóvar films (thinking of High Heels) with ambiguous men very attractive.

  In my favourite fantasy I'm with a blonde woman (no one I know), stereotypical big boobs, slim – I'm me but I feel like a man. I kiss her breasts, I'm on top, I feel her, kiss her belly. My hands are on her breasts, then I lick her cunt until she's really wet (never think about the taste, don't fancy it much really – bizarre). I move back over her and enter her body. I have a cock (I'm usually using a vibrator at this point so I'm both her – being fucked – and the person doing the fucking in my mind), and I move in her hard. It's about controlling the thrusts; they are strong and hard and I want to fuck her until she's out of her mind with pleasure.

  Julian, age 27

  Bisexual

  Live-in relationship/marriage

  College graduate

  Writer

  California, USA

  Like most people in America, I wasn't encouraged to be a lesbian, so when I first started figuring out who I might be attracted to, it was always kind of punky, artsy, femmy or androgynous women. It took a long time to develop an aesthetic where it was OK to like butch women and learn more about how women define themselves as butch. After that period, I realised that what I liked about butch women was the tension between their feminine and masculine sides. I really identified with that tension and knew there were many masculine and feminine qualities about me. Now part of my wisdom comes from loving people that don't fit simple gender or sexuality categories and wanting sexuality to be a very creative and malleable enterprise.

  I'm turned on by everything that's transgender and genderqueer, such as gender-variant features of a person's body – in particular a boy that has bigger breasts than me and a small cock, and reversing the social meaning of those features as feminine, weak, ugly, strange, retarded, etc., to make them intriguing, forbidden, and multivalent – with my (female) body doing the same things, packing my pants so it looks like I have a cock, flattening my breasts, hiding my hair inside a bowler hat. During sex, I bottom more like a boy now instead of a girl, and my boy lover bottoms more like a girl.

  Being in a position or having the strength and patience to have an open or multiple-partner relationship could improve things. It might also cause a lot of grief. I think being happier, having a better job, and living with another room would honestly improve my sex life. When people are cared for, happy, and respected, they have good sex. More outdoor sex would be good without fear of police retaliation.

  My fantasies generally involve power dynamics, which might be power di-erences, or an age di-erence, an
expert and a disciple, gendered power dynamics, etc. So this is the main tie between most of my fantasies, but their subjects, participants, details, roles, and gender always change. They involve real power di-erences/force that would never be OK to do in real life. I don't want to actually have underage sex, or sex between a teacher and a student, or sex with my boss, or sex while drugged and gagged, I just want to fantasise about it. Certain role-playing is fulfilling for those things.

  Right now I've been having a recurring babysitter fantasy. A teenaged dorky boy, Asian or Latino, must babysit a slightly younger teenage girl. The fantasy unravels from both character's perspectives for me! They use some excuse, such as a game, dare, or re-enactment that causes them to get involved. Sometimes the boy is shy and barely makes a move. Sometimes he eats out the teenager and makes her come for the first time.

  Helen, age 38

  Heterosexual

  Live-in relationship/marriage

  Children

  Master's degree

  Stay-at-home mom/Writer/Artist

  Virginia, USA

  The best sex I ever had was with my husband. On our first date, I took him back to my dorm room and started tearing his clothes off before the door was even closed. We spent the night on my dorm room floor, and made love seven times. I could not get enough of him. We kept rubbing against each other even after we were both too worn out for intercourse. He had the best tongue I'd ever experienced, and he was the most considerate lover I'd ever had. Years later, we had another session like that where we spent all of a Saturday morning in bed together. Towards the end of it, my husband was standing at the edge of the bed, fucking me hard as I had my first ever multiple orgasm. I must have screamed for a good fifteen minutes. When I was done, I went completely limp and so did my husband. He slumped over the top of me. At first I thought it was a joke, but then I saw his eyes had glazed over and I started screaming again when he wouldn't respond to me. God, I thought I'd killed him. Turns out he had just passed out from all the exertion. We spent the rest of the day in the emergency room explaining what had happened.