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

world’s greatest lover.

    o u r V a g i N a i s d i r T y , s m e l l y , N e V e r T o B e m e N T i o N e d ,
    a N d T o B e s a V e d F o r T h e m a N W e l o V e
    What do we find so alluring about “the handsome stranger”? Our own sense of newness with a hero of unlimited fantasy, for- eign hands tentatively cupping our breasts, spreading our legs, and a mouth, oh, my God, hot breath, lips, a tongue licking that part of us! For all our bravado, “it” remains open to judgment with each new love. Only in fantasy can we be absolutely sure that he loves the forbidden fruit he is eating.
    In the popular fantasy of the stranger, “the hunk,” is the desire for something more. He drifts into town and gets the women all hot and bothered. The play Picnic and the movie Dirty Dancing come to mind. We in the audience intuitively understand the ingénue’s desire to reject the Nice Guy and risk everything with the Bad Boy, whose forbidden aura makes him absolutely ap- propriate for sex. Yet, we wonder why shy young girls, with their whole lives ahead of them, risk everything for a taste of forbid- den sex. The answer is in front of us: if you have a “sewer” be- tween your legs where no Nice Girl goes on her own, of course you hand it over to the Bad Boy, who yearns to go there, to bury his tongue, his lips.

    Tammy
    Tammy, who fantasizes making it with a stranger as she masturbates, writes that she has “dark hair, a curvy figure, and large breasts.” When she was eighteen, a lot of men started asking her out. But she goes on to admit that because of a fear of getting hurt, now, at twenty-three, she’s quite choosy and has only met a few
    men in her life that she’s really sexually attracted to, an attraction that is as much mental as physical.

    I have a recurring fantasy of asking this stranger to come with me for a cigarette, then leading him round the corner of the building where we can be alone. I am wearing a short skirt, knee-high boots, and no knickers. He immediately realizes what’s on my mind and gives me a huge grin that tells me it’s been on his mind too. We start kissing and gently run our hands all over each other’s bodies. I want to feel his shape and smell his smell. He pulls up my top and starts licking and stroking my breasts. I am getting very horny and start gasping and undoing his shirt buttons. He slowly moves his hand up my thigh and realizes that I have no knickers on and that my pussy is soft and wet and hot for him. I undo his trousers and take his dick in my hand, feeling the shape, the size. I start stroking his dick and balls in different ways to find out what turns him on most, and I get incredibly turned on by watching the expression on his face and listening to his groans.
    He pushes up my skirt and presses his face into my pussy. He gently licks me with long, slow licks until I’m shaking all over and have to pull him off because I’m about to cum and want to cum with him inside me. He parts my lips, and I ease his dick inside me until it’s all the way in, and it’s filling me up and making me gasp with pleasure and then we both cum.

    We imagine ourselves in an alleyway, on a beach, with our husband’s best friend. We are close to orgasm, closer still, but wait! There are voices of people coming over the dunes about to discover us, naked, our orgasm almost upon us, their voices close,
    closer still and, dear Lord in heaven, we cum! We win! We live to complete another day against anti-sex rules. We triumph in the gamble of almost getting caught.

    Faye
    Faye, an educated thirty-one-year-old woman, having recently discovered mastur- bation, fantasizes being caught masturbating by her husband. married for nine and a half years, monogamous for over eleven years, she’s the daughter of divorced par- ents, has one child, a daughter, age four, and runs a small company. Of the five men she’s been with, starting at age fifteen, three of them were long-term