Beyond My Control: Forbidden Fantasies in an Uncensored Age (12 page)

One of my first fantasies was that I was doing some sort of work for a woman, and she asked me if I would like a drink, and we fell into talking. During our conversation, she starts showing off her body, such as stretching her arms far behind her head, or leaning far over so I can look down her shirt, or bending over to pick up something on the floor from the waist. This causes me to lose my train of thought several times while she goes on about her business as if nothing were happening. Finally, when I’m practically a pile of goo in my chair, she walks over and straddles me right there and asks me if I want her or not. We then proceed to fuck, either in her bed or on the kitchen floor.

The most recent fantasy of mine involves a teacher figure. I have been misbehaving in class and am told that she is very disappointed in me and that she is going to have to punish me. She then says that I must make reparations for the disturbance I have created in her class. These reparations come in the form of sexual slavery. I even have to take off her clothes in a certain manner. Sometimes, for spice, I imagine that the phone rings and that she has to talk to the principal of the school while I’m there thrusting my dick into her. One quick note: I’m pretty well-behaved in class, but if I knew that this was the punishment I would receive, I think I’d be tempted to act up a bit.

Rory

Rory, a bisexual man from a “fairly liberal family, even by Western standards,” is a British asian citizen. after several suicide attempts, his father, a doctor, got him into therapy, and he has had treatment for four years. He is no longer suicidal and is just about ready to “come out” and tell his parents he is bisexual.

My gay feelings are much stronger than my “straight” ones, though my interest in women has grown. I’ve had one brief relationship with a man of my own age.

A lot of my gay feelings involve a father figure. I used to show my hard-on to my dad and ask if it was normal and “accidentally” show him myself naked. He’s a pediatrician and sees a lot of confused adolescents. He was understanding, but he’s very mild and inhibited, with bouts of clinical depression that have brought my parents’ marriage to nothing. These exhibitions always turned me on, and I’d always masturbate afterward. I’ve had fantasies of anal sex with him, both ways.

I fantasize a lot about meeting a man in his mid-thirties, a real role model: tall, strong, Irish accent, blond, uninhibited—he hugs and kisses his men friends in the straightest way imaginable. The attraction doubles the second he says he has a son almost my age. I want to be straight. I want to be a husband and father. And I want him because he’s these things. It’s his straightness I desire.

I imagine I am Brendan’s son. His wife is nowhere around— divorced probably.

I’m seventeen, and we’ve often talked about sex and seen each other naked all the time and wrestled. I imagine lying down next to him when he’s dozing. We’re both in shorts and nothing else. He wakes up and puts his arms around me and smiles. I put my face against his neck and kiss him. I look at his muscles, firm, strong, but not huge. This is a man like me, strong but vulnerable as well—firm but tender. His hair is in a ponytail, and I loosen it. His big brown eyes are staring down at me, and when I kiss his chest, he sees what I want.

He has decades more experience than me, and it shows as he caresses me. He uses his palm or his fingers together. He doesn’t use one fingertip on its own—this isn’t teasing sex; this is more like hugs and slow, soft

cuddle. I’m not the skinny guy. I really am muscular or perhaps pudgy. But either way, there is rich, warm flesh and enough to supply lots of contact between our bodies.

Early afternoon sunlight slants through the window as we kiss, using our tongues to explore each other. The hair on the back of his arms is golden in the buttery light, and a chain around his neck dangles in front of his nipples as they become harder and a little rosy.

He calls me “my baby boy” in a quiet voice, his low, rich Irish voice. Soon, I move down to his cock and use slow, relaxed movements to make him harder. He lies on his back, his hands in my hair. He stiffens, his back arches, and his breathing gets heavier. I can feel his cock, hard as stone, but warm and pulsing in my mouth. My mouth floods with saliva as I feed on Dad. And soon he groans, his head thrown back, and he floods my mouth with his milky manhood. I swallow and crawl up to his face again, and we kiss, slow and soft. I’m hard, and soon his hands are on my back, and I’m kissing the top of his head as he kneels in front of me, his knees wide apart, as he takes me, his son, deep into himself, with broad generous strokes of his tongue. Soon I cum, giving him the love-gift he passed on to me a moment ago.

Danny

Danny is a twenty-two-year-old “mostly straight” white man. His father is a liberal/conservative; liberal in most of his thinking but conservative when it comes to sex, barely acknowledging it exists. His mother, on the other hand, is a lesbian with feminist views. Sexual politics are always a discussion with her. His adult fantasies are of a wide variety, most of them straight, some of them bi or

homosexual, and a few of them relating to children and childhood. He often masturbates to thoughts of women fingering themselves and has masturbated several times with young women friends who were as curious as he was about the opposite sex’s masturbation practices.

One time, I answered an ad in the newspaper for “British school discipline.” I was twenty-one at the time, but I wanted to live out my childish fantasy to the fullest, so I shaved my body from my navel to my ankles, giving myself the young boy look. I walked up to the door of the house wearing shorts and a T-shirt, exposing my hairless legs. A stern-looking man in his fifties ushered me in. When I entered his living room, he ordered me to undress. I pulled off my T-shirt and my socks and then moved to my shorts. I anticipated the look on the man’s face when he would see my hairless bottom and penis. I pulled off my underwear. He marched me downstairs to a bedroom where I lay across his lap while he spanked me with his hand and then a hairbrush. Later, he bent me over a bed and strapped me with a belt and then spanked me with a large paddle. My buttocks were just throbbing after that, but the whole time my penis was erect, and I was close to orgasm. Afterward, he rubbed cream on my bottom and stroked my penis while he told me about other “boys” he had spanked and what had turned them on. I still think of this often, fantasizing that a woman is there with me, forced to watch before enduring a spanking herself.

Brent

Brent is a twenty-year-old college student. a neighbor in her forties asked him and his friend in for some sex play after making passes at them from her balcony. un- fortunately, her husband appeared before they could do anything.

Therefore, I only have a fantasy, which I jack off to all the time. It goes like this: My friend and I begin to slowly undress this gorgeous woman. She has a really nice tan and is wearing a string bikini. My friend and I slowly begin to kiss her all over her entire body fromhead to toe. Suddenly, she begins to give us commands and tells us we must obey her. “Suck my pussy through my bikini,” she tells me. Then, she tells my roommate that she wants to “see a show” before we begin undressing her. “I want both of you to fuck me, but first I want to watch you play with each other.” She then instructs us to pull off our swimsuits. “I want you to lick each other and explore your bodies.” At first, we protest, but we’re starting to get pretty turned on watching her fingering her pussy and knowing what’s ahead when we get to have all of her. I notice my dick getting pretty hard, and my roommate already has a full-fledged erection. The woman tells me: “Sit down on the bed and suck your roommate’s cock while he stands over you. I want to see you suck that big thing. Make him really hard.” Then, she tells my roommate to do the same to me. I become really erect as he puts his mouth over my long six-inch rod.

“Now that you’re really turned on, I want both of your hard dicks in me at the same time.” She pushes me on the bed and jumps on my dick, putting it in her sopping wet pussy, while instructing my roommate to put his dick into her tight ass that she just finished lubricating. We eagerly comply. “Now I want both of you to fuck me hard. Fuck me like you’ve never fucked before. Make me feel good.” Then, she tells us how horny she has gotten just watching us the last few weeks and how it’s “payback time” for her.

Suddenly, the woman’s husband walks in and sees us both humping her at the same time. She tells her husband that she is enjoying herself and loves having two young cocks at the same time and that she’s not stopping for anything. Her husband is very surprised but excited at the same time, and he begins unbuttoning his blue jeans, revealing his bulging dick under his briefs. He begins jacking off just watching us. Suddenly, the woman begins to moan so loudly, it’s deafening. “I’m getting what I want. Fuck me hard!” At about that point, my roommate and I both are about ready to cum as the woman begins to writhe up and down on the bed near orgasm. Her husband moves closer, and we all scream with pleasure as he shoots wads of his cum all over us. Afterward, my roommate and I and her husband softly stroke the woman and caress her with body oil until she falls asleep.

d o N ’ T a s k m e — i ’ m o N l y y o u r p a r e N T

Our later sexual activity will always have a relevance to the early years when we were alone with our bodies. No one ever said our genitals were a beautiful place. We were taught to brush our teeth so that they would serve us a lifetime, to stand up straight, and not to strain our eyes. But no one said a word about the care, respect, and maintenance of the springboard of our sexual feeling. Why care for a place that has no value, a place that we females can never get clean enough?

We wonder why adolescents risk pregnancy and disease, why HIV is increasing in young gay men. Stealth and risk have be- come integral to our orgasm. Many young women today think

no better of their genitals than we did thirty years ago. How different would we be had our parents been open and honest with us, taught us to be proud of our genitals, and, yes,
meant
what they said?