The New Black Lace Book of Women's Sexual Fantasies Read online

  As I watched her I wanted to come so hard, and my clit felt as hard as a rock and as large as the top of my thumb. Then she placed her hand down my pants and fingered my pussy. I stopped breathing as her fingers fucked me and my clit throbbed with delight. I told her to bite down on my tits and, when she did, the ecstasy was too much to hold inside. I wanted to eat her, to taste her against my tongue. My pants were off in a matter of seconds and so were the rest of her clothes. Naked, we pressed our bodies into each other, feeling the heat of our skin and throb of our clits. I lay on the bed and spread my legs and she lay on top of me, ass first. I could see her wet pussy aching for my tongue and as I plunged it into her she shook and did the same to me. I could feel her tongue inside my hole, licking and sucking inside me. I moaned; it felt so good. I arched my back so she would fall deeper into me and when she did, I could feel her body eating me with excitement. I was so turned on by then, I let my tongue and teeth nibble gently against her clit until I could feel the heat coming off from the inside of her pussy. I let my tongue slip back inside and swallowed her juices. Then I kissed the outside of her pussy lips, letting them slide up and down my lips and tongue. I let my mouth search her clit a little more as her head bobbed up and down, forcing her tongue into my hole. I could feel it fucking me over and over and I was urged to do one better for her.

  I put my two fingers into her pussy and fucked her. She was so turned on that she stopped and moved with my fingers. I saw her hips moving back and forth following the motion of my fingers inside her. Then I swirled them a little and she came. She jumped off me and went to her drawer and grabbed her electric dildo and turned it on. I spread my legs and she pushed it into me and then licked my clit at the same time. I pushed her head deeper between my legs and she motioned the dildo faster and faster. I let go of her head and played with my own nipples. She lifted her head to eye level and watched as my nipples were massaged by my hands. I felt the tremor of coming shoot from deep inside me. As I came, she stuck her tongue in my pussy and licked it up, sucking in my juices as they flowed out of me. I grabbed her head as she lapped up all my come into her mouth. Afterwards she climbed on top of me and we kissed with the taste of each other on our lips.

  I usually fantasise several times a day. My favourite fantasy is based on the memory of my first sexual experience. I remember when I was fifteen I had my first sexual experience on a staircase with a boy I met at a mock trial conference. His name was Jason and he seemed so nice. As we kissed that night, I had begun to feel urges I had never felt before. So as he lead me up the staircase I was a little afraid and titillated because my mother's apartment was right below where we were. I felt his strong lips kiss mine and the hardness of his cock in his pants. My nipples had begun to protrude through the shirt I was wearing as he massaged my tits. Then he kissed my nipples inside the shirt and I remember this surge ran through my body. It was the first time I had felt something like that and I went wild. I immediately lifted my shirt and I saw his eyes widen with delight. His tongue was large and long and he began to lick my nipples. I moaned his name over and over, and that's when I pulled his cock out. It was the first time I had seen an actual penis not on TV, so when he stroked it with his hands I saw it flex and stretch. As if by instinct, I bent on my knees and put it in my mouth. He moaned and he pushed my head back and forth. I kept sucking as he begged me not to stop. I felt it harden inside my mouth and I sucked even faster until he came in my mouth. I could feel the warm gush of his come sliding down my throat and it tasted so good to me then. As he guided me up, he kissed my lips and his tongue was back in my mouth. Then he went for my nipples again. I arched my legs up as we dry fucked. Then he put his hands down my pants and stroked my clit and pussy. I moaned his name over and over as I felt the power of his lips and hands until my body jerked and I came for the first time.

  Name withheld, age 36

  Heterosexual

  Celibate

  Children

  College

  Social Worker

  Nevada, USA

  I'm still discovering my sexuality. I was married for fifteen years and sex was OK. I think my ex tried to please me out of obligation. I've always loved vampire films and, even as a little girl, I got a guilty pleasure out of watching the vampire seduce the woman he wanted the most, finally taking her into his arms and biting her ever so tenderly. I've always liked watching and reading porn, especially when the guy is performing oral sex on the woman. I don't mind watching the woman masturbate, but I look for men masturbating. It's really hard to find. I think of myself as a voyeur because I don't feel at liberty to have intercourse. I knew from a young age that I was straight. Although there was this one time, I don't know how it came about, but I kissed this girl. I was probably eight years old. I liked it OK, but preferred boys by far and never told anyone (I think) until now.

  Growing up in a poor black neighbourhood for a few years, sex was not looked upon favourably by my grandmother or mother. Although I was intrigued by sex, I feared doing it because I was afraid of getting pregnant. My mom had me at fourteen and instilled a fear in me that she would find out if I ever did it. I spent a lot of years in church and that influenced me a lot, much to my ex's dismay. There were things that Christian women didn't do, and I liked the idea of doing them all, but was afraid to for some reason. I've relaxed over the years, but now I'm divorced. I have had sex (unfortunately) with a guy that I was very attracted to, but the sex wasn't what I expected. He had stamina, but that's not what I want. I really want intim acy mixed with roughness. I don't know if I like it for sure, because I've never had the opportunity, but I'd love to be tied up. I'd be a risk taker . . . risky for frigid me. What holds me back? God, mostly. I had a guy ask me once (when I was married), if I felt it did not have any negative repercussions, would I do it. I told him no. He asked why. I said because I'd know what I'd done. I don't want to be promiscuous even though I love men and would like to be with them physically. Trade salvation for orgasm? I think I'm doing it anyway, but don't feel that great about it. Sometimes I wish I didn't have a sex drive. It reminds me that I'm human.

  The best sex I ever had was when my ex and I were first married. He's in the military and at the time we were stationed in England. His tour was up there, so the house was packed up and we were waiting for our time to leave. We had sex about every other day back then, almost like clockwork. This one particular morning we had sex, but I didn't care for it because it seemed one-sided and I got absolutely nothing out of it. I started crying and he asked me what was wrong. I told him that I didn't think the sex was good. I don't remember if he said anything, but he started touching me (I really can't remember how). I was ready to receive him and he entered me – missionary style. It was slow and deliberate. I could feel the arch in his lower back as he gently thrust his penis in and out of me. I began to move my pelvis when it started feeling good to me. We got in sync with each other. At some point he rubbed me just right. Our pace quickened and I felt the shudder that told me that orgasm was imminent. This caused me to move . . . with more enthusiasm. He was really close to coming but didn't climax. Then I felt it, that inexplicable rush that only seems to come with intercourse climaxes. I convulsed (I can't think of another way to put it) and held him close as he continued his motions. Then he came and we were on the floor in the living room coming together. That was a good day.

  The main theme running through my fantasies is that the man really wants to be with me and it's not about the sex, but the intimacy of two people joining together in the most physical way possible. He holds me tightly and seems to never want to let me go. In my favourite fantasies a guy who's a friend has recently caused me to have two massive orgasms without ever penetrating my vagina with his penis. These fantasies, if they can be called that, are basically him teaching me what he knows about oral sex and di-erent forms of foreplay. He ties me up. He bathes me and then licks me. He buys me leather and I wear it for him so he can playfully torment me until I beg for his mou
th to eat me.

  Rachael, age 21

  Heterosexual

  Single, moderately sexually active

  National Vocational Qualification

  Store Assistant

  East Midlands, UK

  I fantasise about women, although I have had no sexual ex periences with any. I fantasise about lots of men taking advantage of me and being watched as I masturbate. I love erotic books; I also enjoy porn movies (especially girl on girl). I enjoy sending people video messages of myself masturbating and finding out they're horny and want their cocks deep inside me!

  In my favourite fantasy I'm a passenger in a car with a friend (male). We haven't planned anywhere to go or anything to do.

  As we drive, a storm begins. I tell him storms turn me on and before I know it I'm playing with my clit in the passenger seat. He pulls over in a quiet country lane, and I can see his trousers bulging. He rips open my shirt and gropes my breasts. I become increasingly turned on as he fumbles to find his way inside my trousers. When he touches me I scream with pleasure and orgasm so fast that, before I know it, we're on the back seat of the car, my legs spread so wide as he thrusts deep into me.

  Jeanne, age 81

  Heterosexual

  Widowed, celibate but looking

  Children

  Author/Pensioner

  Wiltshire, UK

  I fell madly in love with Errol Flynn at ten years old, though I knew nothing about sex then. In film I was also turned on by The Three Musketeers and Dracula, particularly the bit where Jonathan Harker is seduced by Dracula's vampire bride/sisters. I loved the hippy era, where men wore flowing hair and kaftans, loons and sandals, and lots of beads. I've always been a bohemian in dress and taste. Then there were the dashing cavaliers of the seventeenth century, again long hair and fancy clothes, with much swashbuckling and swordplay. This was down to early reading of historical novels. Turn-ons now are Johnny Depp in The Libertine and male ballet dancers in classical and modern pieces.

  My fantasies feature young handsome men with long hair and chiselled features. I'm cynical now, no longer romantic, but I'd still like to find a knight on a white horse to carry me away to Neverland. I like young men, and this is difficult to fulfil now that I'm older. In my fantasy I'm in a pub in Glastonbury. This ancient town is one of my favourite stomping grounds, absolutely heaving with personable young men, the long-haired hippy type that turns me on. I'm at the bar, ordering a G&T. A guy comes in, a Cap'n Jack Sparrow look-alike. I have noticed that several are aping The Pirates of the Caribbean. This one in particular has tight jeans, a promising bulge, a baggy-sleeved white shirt, gold hoop earrings, locks halfway down his back and a headscarf.

  I want him.

  'That one's mine,' I warn off Maggie, the friend I came in with. She nods and shrugs. I know he isn't her bag. She's into the sophisticated male, but is happy to indulge me. Following her own agenda, she heads off in the direction of half a dozen business executives who are slumming it.

  I feast my eyes on my boy. It doesn't matter that I'm twice his age. I have always gone for men who are my juniors. Don't find those of my own years in the least attractive. They don't rouse my lust, stir my blood, or fill me with the desire to stroke their curls or unzip their pants. I lean on the bar, eyeing him boldly, never mind that he may think I'm his mother. So what? Isn't there such a thing as an Oedipus complex? I'd spoil him, indulge him, buy him whatever he wanted. I'm not proud.

  I've kept my looks, worked on my figure, dress trendy, not frumpy.

  'Come to me, baby,' I croon inwardly. 'Let me hire a room, take you upstairs and give you the benefit of my considerable experience and the best blow job of your entire life.'

  He drops his money and bends to retrieve it. So do I. Our fingers meet. I don't draw back and neither does he. He grins and there's that flash of chemistry between us without which sex rarely, if ever, happens. I'm creaming my panties for him. I smile across at Maggie. She shrugs and takes herself off in pursuit of her own ovarian stimulation, knowing what I'm like and leaving me to it. She's on the hunt, following a quest of her own.

  'Can I buy you a drink?' is my opening gambit.

  'Sure,' he says, glancing at the mates who are with him, some dressed as pirates, too. They give him the thumbs up.

  I don't intend to get him plastered – just enough alcohol to make him unaware of the age gap. This doesn't seem to be bothering him, however, and we sit together on a bench. We don't talk much, maybe remark on the historic building, and he tells me he's in a band (what else?), plays guitar and they are going on tour soon. I could be talking to my youngest son.

  I don't care about this. All I want is to be alone with him. I lean closer, my thigh pressed to his, feeling his heat through my thin skirt. Thrills run up and down my spine and my cunt spasms. It has been some time since I've had one who so closely fulfils my ideal. He's lovely, and I shall be sorry to see him leave.

  'Shall we go outside?' he murmurs, his stubbly jaw brushing my cheek. He even smells nice, of joss sticks and patchouli oil and the faint whi- of cannabis.

  'Better than that,' I promise, and leave him for a moment to visit the reception desk. It's all so easy if you have money.

  We go along the main corridor and mount the curving oak staircase. I have the key for Room 14, the gateway to paradise.

  It is everything I had requested of the receptionist, darkly panelled and with a log fire burning in the stone grate. (Mock electric but no matter.) There are velvet drapes at the windows and the pièce de résistance is the massive four-poster bed.

  'Cool,' remarks my pick-up, Luke.

  'Come on, then, pirate! Show me how you rape and pillage!' I urge, already sprawling over the duvet.

  It amuses me to see that he is rather shy, but this is endearing. Does his mummy know he's out? I spend a second speculating on his background. Is he really a drop-out or is this simply a pose? Maybe a student? Does it matter? No. He joins me on the bed, carrying the bottle of wine and two glasses. We drink. Then I've had enough of fucking about and want to get down to business. I take off his bandanna and his long black hair comes snaking down, making him even more irresistible. God, but he's a handsome beast!

  He's swarthy, with dark eyes, sort of Italian looking. I push open his shirt and his skin is tanned. His chest carries a sprinkling of hair that thins out, like an arrow pointing past his navel to be swallowed up in the inky thatch covering his lower belly. Losing any reserve he might have had, he holds me in his arms and kisses me. His kisses are thorough, lips, tongue, teeth, everything. Moist and warm and fragrant. Not a hint of halitosis.

  I want to screw, yet want it to last. I remind myself that he is young, so could probably perform several times in a row, unlike older men who have to rest after they've shot their bolt. Even so, 'Slow down,' I say, and tug at his belt.

  The mattress sags as he sits on one side and pulls off his trainers. White socks follow and then he stands up, wearing only his jeans. He unzips and peels them off, presenting his tight buttocks to me, then turning so that I can see the complete emergence of his cock. What a beauty! It is all that I had hoped for and more, long, already at full stand, brown-skinned and au naturel. No knife had robbed him of his foreskin.

  'Are you going to let me fuck you?' he asks, with a boyish grin.

  'Try and stop me!' I growl, and grab him in a bear-hug.

  Common sense prevails and I get a packet from my bag, rip it open and take out a silvery condom.

  He stands before me and I revel in the pleasurable task of preparing his rock-hard dick. I lick it from base to tip, concentrating on the flange, feeling him shudder, hearing him moan, slurping the milky tears that emerge from the slit. He is oh-so ready. I take care not to tip him over the edge and lose that first, fierce rush of spunk. I slip the rubber on from tip to base. I wish I didn't have to cover that delicious cock but needs must.

  I keep him on the boil, working my tongue around his peatdark nipples, closing on the taut nubs, making him
gasp. He takes control, pushing me on my back, parting my legs and going down on me, his face buried in my wet minge. He holds my labial wings apart and sucks my clit, drawing it between his lips. I want to come so badly. He slurps and licks, his tonguetip giving me divine sensations. My climax breaks and I yell, bucking on the bed, fireworks exploding in my brain. Then he's on me and in me, my knees pressed apart, his cock entering easily despite its size, lubricated by my love-juice.

  It's wonderful and he rides me fiercely, coming in savage thrusts. I feel his heat filling the condom. He jerks once, twice, thrice, and then rests his head on my shoulder, breathing quickly and muttering, 'That was wicked! You're one hell of a fuck!'

  If I was a cat, I'd purr. What a compliment! My kids would never believe it. And what about my husband who tells me I'm too middle-aged and that no one else but him would be interested in me? I know he's banging his young secretary. Screw you! I think savagely.