This is a fun erotic story about being naked. Molly finds excuses to take off her clothes, enjoying the thrill of baring herself in unexpected places. She makes a game of it, risking being seen while punishing herself sexually if she chickens out. She undertakes her most daring challenge on a forest path, where she undresses gradually and dares herself to keep going further. Will she make it to the end of the trail and back again without getting caught, or will her walk in the woods have unexpected and erotic consequences?
This is the second version of my California fantasy. I'm visiting friends in California. Kristina has been a good friend of mine since high school. Brian is her husband, and I'm very attracted to him. She's sharp and bold and a bit brazen. The two of us have always been really open about sex. After … Continue reading California Fantasy #2
This is one version of a fantasy I've been entertaining since I visited some friends in California last summer. I am visiting married friends in California. Let’s just call them Brian and Kristina, for this little fantasy. He’s good-looking in an ordinary-guy kind of way, and she’s voluptuous Italiana. Curvy. He reminds me of windswept … Continue reading California Fantasy #1
Author's Note: This story continues from Part 13. Most men would have been happy to fuck me for a few nights and then send me back to my studies and out of their lives. Elie was not most men. He also didn't seem to be in any hurry to fuck me at all, even though … Continue reading On the Beach, Part 14
“I want to suck you,” I say, pulling at the zipper to his jeans. My husband doesn’t argue, helping me tug his pants down. I push him back on the couch. Pale wintry sunlight streams through the window. I slip his underwear off his hips and his cock emerges from hiding, chubby but not yet … Continue reading For Dinner
Author's Note: It's been a long time since this story started, inspired by a prompt from Besos de Cuero. I haven't given up on the story yet, it's meandering toward some kind of climax. The previous episode is here. "Tell me about your day," Elie said, sipping his red wine. We were in a dim, … Continue reading On the Beach, Part 13
I had no idea that Nancy Friday had died. I cannot express how much My Secret Garden meant to me. Or, I should say, means to me. Just last week I was rereading parts of the book, marveling at how revolutionary it was. It was my entry point into sexual fantasy, of that there is no doubt. I wrote (a tiny bit) about it in my post First Sexy Books.
Will Crimson has kindly given permission to reblog this thoughtful post about Nancy Friday. I encourage you to read it, and if you’ve never picked up My Secret Garden, perhaps this would be a good time to read that as well.
Nancy Friday, if you don’t already know who she is, is a journalist who published My Secret Garden. The book is a collection of women’s erotic fantasies, published in 1973. Long before the Internet, her book gave voice to women’s sexual fantasies and, as such, caused both outrage and enthusiastic support. Until Friday’s book, the erotic voice was largely confined to men. That women had erotic fantasies came as a shock to many.
I first read Friday’s book when I was roughly 13. The realization that women fantasized too, and that their fantasies were strangely mirror images of mine, was a revelation. When I imagined cornering a girl in a dark corner and forcing her to orgasm on my own, I was shocked to read that somewhere there was a girl who was fantasizing about the boy would force her into a dark corner, warn her to be…
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