The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy (21 page)

Wet and Messy, or Sploshing

Also called “WAM,” this fetish is for seeing someone (usually attractive young women) soaked with water, covered in mud, or smeared with food—anything wet and messy, but the “splosher” will have their favorites. Some like to see fully clothed women at the moment of being hit with a burst of water, while others like to watch videos of girls pouring syrup, spraying whipped cream, and smearing cakes and pies all over their naked bodies. A messy fetishist also may want to masturbate while watching the action, have sex in the messiness, or get messy by themselves. A highly arousing photo collection of young women getting messy with food can be found in Charles Gatewood's
Messy Girls
. Find out about the messy community and more at
www.messyfun.com
.

Networking with Other Fetishists and Their Partners

Whether you want to find support from others in a similar relationship or get more ideas to make your fetish encounters erotically explosive, you can find chatrooms, message boards, websites, and webrings (linked websites sharing a common theme) on the Internet dedicated to an astounding array of fetishes. If you don't have Web access it's a bit tougher to find community, but adult magazines found in porn shops cater to a myriad of fetishes, and in their back pages you'll find mail-order companies that carry a variety of fetish products and catalogs for more magazines, books, and videos.

But for fetishists and their lovers who have Internet connections, the world is your rubber-encased, spike-heeled, fetish oyster. As of this writing, the Web portal Yahoo! lists over 2,500 groups dedicated to fetish-related topics, with hundreds—sometimes thousands—of members in each group, all emailing, exchanging links, and communicating about their fetishes and their lives. Simply go to
www.yahoo.com
and click on “Groups,” then type in the fetish group you'd like to connect with. Join one of the groups, and you'll have access to their message boards and links to more groups and resources dedicated to your fetish.

Other People's Panties

BY
A
LISON
T
YLER

Other people's panties turn me on. They always have. Ever since way back when…In college, whenever my pretty midwestern roommate was in class, I would dig through her lingerie drawer, fingering the seductive items she was saving to wear when her long-distance boyfriend was in town. Sometimes, I'd dress myself up in her favorite pieces: the matching leopard-print set she thought was particularly racy; or the black lace boy-cut shorts with a tank-style top. Other times, I'd just hold them to my naked body, caressing myself with the fine fabrics. I'd take my time to really smell the material before slipping on the garment, winning a whiff of laundry detergent, or perfume, lavender soap, or even the shadowy, lingering scent of real skin.

So I guess that's when it started. My fetish, I mean. Because at some point, wearing Lisa's clothing wasn't quite as important to me as sprawling on my tiny twin bed with the items in hand, stroking myself with the various intricate creations, coming while surrounded by panties and bras and camisoles that weren't mine. That was the key to my pleasure—the panties were someone else's, not purchased by me. Not meant for me. And the owner had no idea of my obsession with her private underthings. No idea at all.

By the end of the year, I had a set routine. Each day, I'd fondle the bikini bottoms Lisa carelessly discarded on the floor by her bed. I'd place them on my face and breathe in while I touched myself, reveling in the ghostly embrace of her, even though I didn't want her. I just wanted her knickers.

When the school year ended, my fetish remained. But I learned that I wasn't attached solely to Lisa's lingerie—
any
pretty woman's underthings would work. This is why I've never lived on my own, always have had a female roommate. I've worked to keep my desires hidden through years of flatmates, rifling undetected through laundry baskets, or top dresser drawers, or in the tangle of sheets at the bottom of a bed. My fantasies have deepened as I fingered the sweet-smelling satin hipsters, cotton bikinis, lace thongs. I have succeeded in getting my fill from my female roommates' collections, and I have never once told anyone about my fetish.

Not anyone.

Not even Jamie, my lover who swore on her heart that she'd love me through thick and thin, through sickness and health. I didn't tell her because our commitment ceremony included no line about loving through fetishes, through panty raids, through constant caressing with secreted sexy items. Although I planned to come
clean at some point, I found that I couldn't confess. I told myself this was because I didn't know what she would say, didn't know how she might react to my treasured little secret. I pretended I simply couldn't bear to see disgust on her face.

Truthfully?

That wasn't it at all. I just didn't want to stop playing with her panties.

Jamie has perfect lingerie for my needs. She indulges herself in the finest fabrics, the prettiest panties in rainbows of colors. And though I can afford to buy myself the identical items, I know from experience that they wouldn't give me as great a pleasure as wearing Jamie's. Don't know why that is, but I can't change the fact. It's other people's panties that get to me.

If I'm in a pinch, I use a G-string or a thong snagged from the laundry basket, and I go for a quickie while Jamie thinks I'm taking a shower. But when my girlfriend is out for the evening, that's when I truly indulge. I make a whole night out of fucking myself with Jamie's underthings. First, I go through her dresser drawer, or our hamper, and pick out my pieces for the night. Sometimes I get off on a pair of her silky blue hipsters. I breathe in at the crotch. I run my tongue over the seam and taste her there. Or I use her cream-colored, lace-edged tap panties, which I love to watch her wear, but love even more to peel down her long, lean thighs. Occasionally, I dress myself up entirely in her naughty knickers, down to garters and stockings—but usually, it's enough to simply surround myself with an outfit or two, turning the mattress into a display fit for an underwear catalog, writhing around in all her lingerie, basking in the sea of her scent and her seductive taste.

This is all I've done, all I've ever needed—that is, until last night.

Jamie had plans to be out for the evening. As soon as I heard the front door close, I headed down to the bathroom. But this time, I found a surprise when I opened the hamper. Instead of her various clothing items strewn willy-nilly in the basket, they were neatly folded, with a red satin ribbon wrapping them up. I heard a noise behind me, and when I turned around, there was Jamie, waiting, a smile on her face. I didn't know what to say.…

“I think they're your favorites,” she said, grinning.

My hand fluttered over the blue satin, the soft pink lace, the black see-through thong.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. She was right.

“So take them out. Let me watch. I want to see what you do with them.”

“How—” I started.

“Just do it, baby. I want to see.”

Trembling, I took the bound package of my treasured items to the bedroom. Then I stripped and started. Jamie stood across the room, watching. At first, I was extremely aware of her staring at me, and I felt a prickle run through my body at the
thought of being on display. But then I started to lose myself in the pleasure that always works through my body. I tuned everything out by focusing on the feel of the fabrics and the secret smell of Jamie's own scent embedded in her fine lingerie. I didn't even notice when she came closer and sat on the bed. Didn't tune into her until she finally moved right next to me, and she took the pieces from me and slowly rubbed them over my body. Everywhere I wanted her to.

And when I came, I whispered, “I didn't know you knew.”

I looked at Jamie, into her lavender-blue eyes, at her flushed pink cheeks, and I saw how close she was to coming herself. This was as exciting for her as it was for me—I realized that in a heartbeat—the way she purred back at me. “It turned me on,” she said, “when I figured out what you were doing. It made me wet to know that my panties made you wet….”

I guess sometimes you really don't know how another person feels…until you walk a mile—or fuck awhile—in their panties.

CHAPTER
10

Erotic Dominance and Submission: S/M Fantasies

Dozens of books and videos explain in savory detail all the intricacies of rope tying, over-the-knee spanking, and how to choose a whip and wield it with menace on squirming submissives. But rather than tell you how to tie a knot or draw up a slave contract, I'd like to take you into the arousing realm of erotic dominance and submission fantasies—and let your imagination spark your desire for further study. You don't need to be a bondage whiz, a whip expert, or traditional S/M scenester, or know a famous dominatrix, to create hot fantasies that have a little—or a lot—of S/M in them. All you need is a motivation that turns you on and a little common sense about the practicalities. For learning the basics about ropes, whips, and scene negotiation, you'll find a complete list of books and videos in the Resources chapter.
These resources will open avenues of further study to you and help ensure that your journey into S/M is blissful, safe, and fun.

If you just flipped to this chapter, then flip yourself right back to
Chapter 3
, “Fantasies for Two,” where you can read up on how to talk with your lover about what you do and don't want to try in the world of erotic fantasy. Fun and games with S/M that involve more than a decorative collar require that you both be honest and on the level about who does what to whom, and that you have an idea of how much, when, and how often.

If you have fantasies about being spanked, doing the spanking, being restrained by ropes, experiencing erotic embarrassment, giving power over to your lover, or taking total control of your loved one's every need (and satisfying a few of your own), your fantasy falls into the alluring realm of S/M. In these fantasies, one of you gives up control and the other assumes it. This arousing exchange generally involves captivity or bondage, and may involve punishment, erotic pain, or submission. Perhaps you will find both sides of the equation exciting, being both dominant and submissive. In the wonderful world of S/M, you can have your decadent cake and eat it—or be eaten—too.

Sweet Submission

A couple I know went to an S/M event where audience members could make charity donations to “buy” a slave for the evening. What this meant was that participants could bid on a contestant onstage who was either dominant or submissive; if they won, the person they “purchased” could choose to spend the evening with them. A very attractive young woman presented
herself as a “love slave,” and my excited friends bid on her—and won! However, when they got the young lady to a secluded spot in the club, they found that she wasn't sure what she really wanted. And neither were my friends. In the heat of the moment, the possibilities of bossing around a willing young gal had made them both horny and eager enough to land them in this fantasy-turned-predicament. As it turned out, they tied her up, tickled her a little bit, and then let her go. When they told me this story, I thought,
What a waste of resources!
The problem here is that both parties had fantasies about dominance and submission but neither had developed them beyond the point of “wouldn't that be fun.”

When you want to give up control, a number of fantasy roles and scenarios can be tailored to the shape of your desires. Or roles may not even enter into it—you might be drawn to physical sensations rather than a role-based scenario. Perhaps you want physical restraint combined with sex or pain, or just a good, old-fashioned spanking. If you're purely a masochist, a person who is aroused or sexually pleased by receiving intense or painful stimulation, you may not necessarily be interested in power-exchange games where you “deserve” the punishment or submissively serve another person's needs. It may turn you on simply to have a gorgeous man or woman give you a long session of whipping, light strokes graduating to heavy flogging, releasing your endorphins and taking you to a state akin to a “runner's high.” Or if restraint is your game, being completely tied down, or even “mummified” so that you cannot move a pinkie, might take you to new levels of arousal thanks to the feelings of helplessness—or comfort—that total restraint conveys.

But being submissive doesn't mean you have to be a masochist. You might get a thrill out of being a slave to your lover's every whim, from foot rubs to oral sex and more. You can be the silent handmaiden administering to his or her every need, in any costume or dramatic role you like, or you can be the sex toy that gets used and discarded—until you're needed for further use, that is. You can be ever-obedient in collar and slave attire, or you might enjoy being subtly owned by your lover, made to go
sans
panties in public, while in private you become your sweetie's serviceable love doll in garters and lace.

You don't have to misbehave to get spanked, and you don't have to be a slave to be sexually used by someone you love, but then again, if you do, you have a myriad of options for costumes and situations (see
Chapter 4
, “Role Play,” for oodles of ideas). And it's important to note that while some people prefer submissive play in power-exchange fantasies, and others prefer to be dominant in every exchange, many people enjoy a bit of both worlds. Chances are, bits and pieces of what I mentioned above tickled your fancy here and there, bits that you can arrange to suit your fantasies about control. Who do you want to be?