I try to turn around, and beg you to kiss me on the lips, but you won't. You stand up straight and with both hands you undo my cardigan, watching your hands, watching my eyes in the mirror as you do so. I keep my eyes fixed on your eyes in the mirror, enjoying the sensations of your fingers on my flesh. Suddenly, with a quiet and gentle movement, you pull both breasts out of my bra, holding them in your hands, weighing them, as if they were some precious commodity. I lean back into you even more, pressing my body into yours, feeling something hard in my back. We both smile at each other. Again, I beg you to kiss me on the lips and again you say no! You are just enjoying watching your fingers caress my breasts and nipples, the hard feel of them, watching as a flush comes to my cheeks and chest.
You bend down again and kiss me gently on the shoulder and very slowly you slide to your knees, not once taking your hands away from my breasts. Without your body to support me, I have to rest myself against the marble unit, my breathing hard and heavy. Slowly, you move your hands down from my breasts to my waist, to my hips, down past my thighs to my knees, where you reach my skin. Your hands are hot, soft and hard on my legs, and it feels good.
Slowly, you move your hands back up my legs. I'm really having to support myself now; my legs are weak with desire and I know that I am hot and moist with excitement and that at any minute you're going to discover this, and I'm going to feel a little ashamed of how quickly you've managed to excite and arouse me.
You know I'm aroused; you have seen the light in my eyes and don't need to do any confirmatory explorations. But you know what you want to do, and with one swift movement you hook your fingers in the top of my tanga and bring them down to my ankles. 'What?' I cry, not sure whether to laugh or be cross.
'Step out of them,' you order.
I do so. I have no choice and you put them in the pocket of your boiler suit, turn around and walk out of the bathroom.
Damn you! I push myself back into my bra and button myself up and, although my legs are still trembling with excitement, I manage to follow you out and back into the suite.
So the tour continues, only this time whenever we go up any stairs you, being the gentleman, go last in case I should fall. And each time one of your hands reaches up into my skirt, sometimes you just hold my buttocks, sometimes you explore a bit deeper, sometimes a finger comes out glistening and wet and you taste it, meeting my eyes as you do so. You know exactly what you're doing to me, and you are loving every minute. You see my nipples grow even harder and the nowpermanent flush on my cheeks and my pupils dilated with erotic arousal.
At last, the final door. You open it and immediately I recognise your cabin. You turn and lock the door. I stand there, partly excited, partly terrified . . . well, mainly excited, but not really sure what you're going to do. I am almost at screaming pitch.
Gently, you push me over to the bed. You sit me down and kneel in front of me so our faces are at the same height. Taking my head in both your hands, you kiss me; at first it is gentle, slow, but very quickly it becomes something more urgent, deeper, more penetrating. I hold you so tight, it's so good to feel you this close, the softness of your lips, and hardness and softness of your tongue, your teeth; I have no feelings other than when our bodies are touching.
You break away and gently undo my cardigan again, slowly pushing it off my shoulders, then undo my bra, pulling it off and throwing it into a dark corner. You bury your head between my breasts, and I hold you there as you smell my skin. Taking both of my breasts in your hands, you squeeze them together until you can put both nipples in your mouth at once. It feels so good, and I cling onto you, my hands in your hair as I feel your teeth, gently but firmly, biting the soft dark flesh.
You don't want to stop this; it feels so good and you can feel how much it is exciting me, but eventually you stop and push me back onto the bed, my legs still hanging over the edge. You stop for a while and look at me, and I wonder what you are thinking, but I love the fact you're watching me, half naked on your bed. It seems as if you are deciding whether or not to take off my skirt. Eventually you decide yes, it will only get in the way. Unzipping it, you slide it off and throw it after the other clothes. Now you kneel back and, with your hands on my knees, you move my legs apart. Even you are surprised by how open and red and moist she is, the juices almost beginning to run down my legs. You place each of them on your shoulders and very slowly start to kiss and stroke my inner thighs.
I am moving, begging you silently to come closer, closer where it is hot and wet, but you don't want to rush this pleasure and slowly, very slowly, in total torture you move inwards. Finally you bring your hands to her lips and open them, at the same time bending your head, and, with a strong tongue, begin to lick her. It is somewhere between a scream and a moan, but the feeling is so intense, so powerful and so sublimely beautiful that I just don't know what to do! I raise my pelvis up to meet your tongue and, within a few minutes, I can feel muscles beginning to shake and contract. So can you, and to increase my pleasure you insert one, two, three fingers inside, gently exploring, seeing how my moans increase with your movements. By now I have no idea where your tongue ends and where I begin, where your fingers meet your tongue with a bit of me in between them, a bit that is just a raging red fire of pleasure. I am terrified by these feelings; it has gone beyond just a mere physical sensation into something I could lose myself in, and I reach down and touch you. 'Don't stop,' I say, 'please, please, please do not stop.'
And you don't.
Until, some minutes later, the aftershocks still coursing through my body, you raise yourself up beside me so that I can cling to you. You stroke my hair and kiss my forehead as I, incapable of coherent speech, mumble something you can't quite understand. And you hold me tightly, so so tightly until my breathing has calmed down, and I look up at you, deep into your eyes, smelling my smell on your face, and I kiss you very gently on the lips and say, 'Thank you.'
To be continued . . .
C, age 39
Heterosexual
Live-in relationship/marriage
Children
Bachelor's degree
Freelance writer/Photographer/stay-at-home mom
Maryland, USA
I rely on the same fantasy, much of the time. I am masturbating, and my husband stands next to the bed, also masturbating, until he comes on my face. It doesn't sound like much, but it is, shall we say, reliable.
Amber, age 24
Bisexual
Live-in relationship/marriage
No children
Some college
Sales
Texas, USA
My husband is a turn-on for me, as are compliments, some forms of role-playing, silky clothes and bubble baths. To be honest, anything can be sexy if I think about it the right way. I have two fantasies, the first one involves seducing a priest. That's fairly straightforward. The second is about my best friend. He says all the right things and makes all the right noises. There's nothing special about the fantasy. It changes. The most important thing is, he wants me and that want drives me crazy. It translates itself into me doing all sorts of dirty things in earnest. I fantasise about things being simple and hot, I guess.
Tiffini, age 34
Heterosexual
Virgin
Single, occasionally sexually active
College degree
Design
West Virginia, USA
I'm turned on by intelligence, someone to talk to. I think it's good to have some form of fantasy in any relationship, just don't go overboard or it could become chaos; remember simplicity. And yes, I'm a virgin, but that doesn't mean I'm innocent. I just haven't fallen in love with someone to have sex with. But I've had fun without 'going all the way'. The best sex I ever had was when I was in a nightclub with a boyfriend (now my ex-boyfriend) and went down on him in a corner. On the way back home we were walking along and found an empty area down a little slope of a hill and he went down on me (while I was gazing up at the stars).
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In my fantasy there's a tall man with dark hair, not necessarily what mainstream society would consider good-looking. He will do anything I want. He starts by undressing me gently and slowly, one item of clothing at a time. While doing so, he lets me undress him at the same time. He then lays me down and we make love, with him on top, and then me on top. We will be as one when he enters me and this continues on going, with di-erent positions and not a lot of talking – we just let our bodies go in whatever direction is happening at the moment. Anything goes, a little spanking of me when I'm on top, a little of tying me to the bed when I'm on the bottom. When I climax I let him know how appreciative I am . . . a little bit of petting and sucking and massaging.
Brenna, age 38
Heterosexual
Live-in relationship/marriage
Children
Bachelor's degree and professional certificate
Author/Teacher
Massachusetts, USA
The best sex I ever had was make-up sex when my husband and I got back together after being legally separated. We'd separated because he was having an a-air. I had a fling of my own (a gent that was in an open relationship). While that didn't go well, badly enough that I decided I wasn't cut out for meaningless sex, it showed me that I was desirable again. To boot, I lost about 30 pounds, since I couldn't eat or sleep early on in the separation. I got my self-image up and found my muse again. I wasn't taking any crap from him. And, when we did end up in bed again, it was positively explosive. You see . . . even my sister admits the man is my soul mate, so when we are together and doing well, we really mesh. There's also a deep emotional bond between us. The second best sex I've had was when he graduated boot camp. We'd been apart for eight weeks, and when we got back to my hotel room, the first time involved flying clothing and sex that was over – quite explosively for both of us – in about 90 seconds. We had sex, as memory serves, six times in the first thirty-six hours. Even later in our marriage, we averaged sex every eighteen hours, when he was in port. What would improve my sex life now would be me losing about 40 or more pounds and the kids being out more during times when we're both at home.
In the past I particularly enjoyed some of the old romance books, the ones that would be classified as soft bodice-rippers. The man is intent on the woman he wants. She is not entirely happy with the idea of being married to him, but she's drawn to him and seduced by him in all ways, and in the end they are together happily. He's always a very alpha-male type, and he's very protective and caring about the lady in his life. To be honest, this sort of seduction was always more stimulating to me than just seeing naked male bodies. I'm still turned on by alpha males. I think there are only a couple of other men that turn me on . . . ones that are clearly not alphas. I like attitude – not disrespect but attitude; not necessarily bad boys but not doormats, to be sure. I like men that are focused on me when they are with me. If they are checking out every other woman out there, they can forget a second date. They can talk to me . . . to my face, looking in my eyes. If they are talking to the chest (especially the chest, since I have a fairly impressive one), they are done for. I've met men who couldn't look at me and talk at the same time, because I had the nursing breasts and was wearing wench garb. I love eyes, intense, how the colours change, the expressions in them. I like intelligent men. I like men with a sense of humour, even if it's dark humour . . . sarcasm and irony.
I adore a certain amount of bondage, toy play – more male-led than me leading, though I don't consider myself a sub. I have some recurring themes and some breakout fantasies. The recurring themes often involve a man intent on me, sweeping me away into hot sex, sometimes in places that I wouldn't normally consider having sex in real life. Obviously he's an alpha. My breakout fantasies are often things that my characters are experimenting with or doing. It might not be something I personally would do in real life (including samesex experimentation), but if I can empathise with the character, I can certainly fantasise about it myself.
There is a man, the only other man I've considered marrying besides my husband. He's not much of an alpha and never has been. When my husband and I were separated, we came close to starting something, but he didn't want to be a rebound. He gave me time to decide, and I ended up back with my husband, so nothing ever happened between us . . . not even a kiss. In the fantasy I've lost my husband and we get a second chance together. He's hungry, because he's tired of waiting and won't give me the chance to change my mind again. His hunger gives him just that edge of alpha to him and the sex is often and explosive. Since I have few consensual things I don't do, you can pretty much vary it from there to just about everything a healthy, experimental hetero couple does in bed.
Name withheld, age 41
Heterosexual
Live-in relationship/marriage
No children
National Vocational Qualification
Not employed
Southwest England, UK
Watching women have sex with each other turns me on massively – to the point where I thought I was bi. However, never in my adult life have I met a woman I fancied or even really thought about outside of watching a porno. I think the reason I like it is that it concentrates on clitoral stimulation. Interestingly, answering this question has just made me realise that I never have the urge to write about it either.
At the moment Keanu Reeves is floating my boat; previously it was Ricky Martin. Straight sex is pretty much as wild as my imagination gets. Being fucked hard is the main focus usually. I tend to remember scenes from movies I've seen; I have a few faves – and I don't need to insert myself into them to enjoy thinking about them, I'm happy just to remember them.
I think I have given up on the idea of a competent lover. That sounds harsh but I mean someone who'll put their ego to one side long enough to learn what is basically a technique that will improve the more you practice it. I enjoy sex alone more than with another person these days. I always know sex is not going to live up to the hype, but I still live in hope. Things might improve if I could find a new man who is driven by sexual desire rather than inhibited by a fear of being too 'open' – a man who doesn't find my sexual confidence intimidating. Losing some weight would help me feel confident enough to throw myself around a bit more too.
My fantasies are very run of the mill and I have done a few of them – sex in a public place, picking up a stranger, etc. Sex with a woman was something I considered going to another city to try once (visit a gay bar maybe?) but I know that most lesbians are very masculine and therefore not the kind of women that have turned me on in films. Having said that, I never look at a very attractive woman and wonder if she's gay, so I don't think it's something I particularly want to have happen. I have a very strong libido – just the thought of the orgasm I'll have is sufficient to make me want to have sex. I'll often fantasise to help it along, but it will happen anyway. I write a lot of the things I like into my stories, so it's hard to pinpoint a particular fantasy – these often arouse me as I write them. I think the themes tend to be men who are totally hot for the heroine – who pursue them relentlessly. I know from my own personal experience that penetration isn't enough for female orgasm, so I often have the man add stimulation of the clitoris, or have the woman do it herself as part of the sex. I also love the thought of penetration with a finger while receiving oral sex; most of my male characters know to do this.
Sarah, age 31
Heterosexual
Live-in relationship/marriage
Children
College
Homemaker
West Midlands, UK
I'm turned on by men I can't have! Bad guys, but bad guys who are respectful to women, such as Tony Soprano from the HBO television show, Robbie Williams, Colin Farrell (he's so sexy), men who work outside (they wear riggers and have big rough hands). Men in suits are OK as long as they are in charge. I cannot be doing with men who wear make-up or spend time on their hair.
The best sex I ever had happened a f
ew years ago, I think I was 22 at the time. Someone at work had been showing me a lot of attention and being very flirty. He was involved with someone (he ended up marrying her), but it was like the forbidden fruit – I wanted what I couldn't have. Anyway, he gave me a lift home and asked me to call him. I said no, he knew where I was if he wanted me. Later that night he knocked on my door and before I had even closed it we were at it. I had a nightdress on and he lifted it, pulled my panties aside and fucked me up against my front door. It was passionate, but rough. His hands were big; he was a lot taller than me and heavily built. He just knew what to do, exactly where to touch me and kiss me, and we had the most amazing night. He was very well-endowed and I felt every single thrust. I had never had sex other than in the missionary position until that night. No one had ever gone down on me or entered me from behind. He pulled my hair when he was behind me and it was such a turn-on. He opened me up with his fingers and thumbs and went down on me and I came so hard and fast. He just kept on going and never stopped, making sure I was enjoying it as much as him. (I'm getting turned on just remembering this.) The best thing other than the sex was that he didn't look down on me afterwards, we both knew it was a one-night thing and we still get on great now; although I no longer work with him I see him around occasionally. He's always nice to me and I'll always think of that night as the best I've ever had. I think if I was ever tempted to have an a-air it would have to be with him.
I think my fantasies have stayed the same as when I was younger. I have romantic fantasies that some big strapping man is going to sweep me off my feet and then fuck me senseless! However, my favourite fantasy is to go down on a woman. I would like to make a woman come with my tongue. I'd know exactly how and what to do because, let's face it, most men just don't have a clue. Watching women really really turns me on – blonde women who are slim and have small breasts with soft pink nipples.
The Romantics
Kitten, age 20
Bisexual
Live-in relationship/marriage
The New Black Lace Book of Women's Sexual Fantasies Page 4