Free Beyond My Control: Forbidden Fantasies in an Uncensored Age by Nancy Friday Page A

cluster, where I find I can see into an apartment on the next lower floor. (In this fantasy,
    I have terrific vision, which allows me to see all sorts of details that would normally be invisible at this distance.)
    A man in his thirties, a good-looking stranger with curly light brown hair, is lying in bed, just under a sheet. The motion that caught my eye is his yawning and stretching as he wakes up. I see that he is quite handsome, with a tanned, moderately muscular body. After rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair, he glances down the sheet to the place where his morning erection has caused the sheet to lift, and he smiles to himself. Then, he flips the sheet away and lies there totally nude. Sun-bleached hair curls on his legs, arms, and lightly across his chest. His body is gorgeous, and I can’t take my eyes off him. His average-sized penis, released from the sheet, stands almost straight up. He touches it lightly and grins as he watches it bounce. Reaching into a drawer in his night stand, he takes out something and does something to his hands. Although I cannot see clearly, it suddenly dawns on me that he must be rubbing lubricant on his hands in preparation for masturbation! I am full of anticipation, as I have never seen a man jerk off before.
    Then, he wraps his hand around the shaft and begins to stroke it up and down slowly, almost lazily. After a few minutes of this, he releases the shaft, and I notice it is longer, thicker, and redder, although still of average size (no giant penises in my fantasies). My paper has dropped to the floor of the balcony, and I am feeling flushed. With one hand, he begins to play with his balls while the other hand reaches up to caress one of his nipples. I find that my right hand is creeping between my legs while the other begins to play with one of my nipples. The hair between my legs is moist with more than the water from the shower, and the labia are beginning to swell.
    Nowweare masturbating in tandem—as he pulls at his nipples and rolls them with his fingers, I do the same to mine, feeling the firm flesh on my
    breasts, too. He pumps his shaft and caresses his balls as lightly as I tease my clitoris and rub my mons. I have totally forgotten that I am outside in broad daylight, with my bathrobe wide open and my body displayed for all to see. Sometimes, he stops abruptly and just rubs his hands over his body and down his thighs while his penis bounces and quivers as though it were alive and begging for more. I do the same, stroking my body while my nipples ache with desire and my hips gyrate as my clitoris seeks any available stimulation in the absence of my fingers. Then, his hands resume their actions, and I am almost frenzied now as I rest myself, waiting for that magical moment when his penis will spasm and his hot fluid will shoot out. As I approach my orgasm, my body demands more sensation until I am squeezing and pinching my nipples and rubbing my clitoris firmly. Suddenly, his back arches, and he writhes, and both hands wrap around his shaft as white, hot cum shoots up and onto his chest. I plunge two fingers into my spasming vagina, clamping my other hand on top of them, writhing and gasping as I cum more violently. As I relax and my vision clears, I see the man lying back with a big smile of satisfaction and know that I have an identical smile on my face. (This, by the way, is exactly how I masturbate—except not where I can be seen!)
    Sometimes, I add another part: As I lie there on the balcony, waiting for my breathing to slow down, I hear a gentle chuckle and look up to see on a balcony opposite and above mine—a strange man with dark hair and a moustache who has obviously been watching me! He is wearing only shorts or swim trunks, and his erection is quite visible. I find that I am only slightly embarrassed. This is where the fantasy ends. It worked every time unless I was coming down with something, so no wonder my husband thought he was the