The Mammoth Book of Women's Erotic Fantasies by Sonia Florens Page A

instrumental in the development of my fantasies.
    In them, I progress to sitting on him. I force him to lie on the bed and straddle him, pressing hard against his face, making him push his tongue inside me. I force him to stare into my eyes as
he does, so that he can see who is making him do these things. His face begins to go red as he runs out of breath and I shift slightly to allow him some air before settling on him once more. Riding
back and forward – sliding his nose against my lips and feeling his tongue probe inside me – quickly brings me to the point of climax and I push down so that he can suck my clitoris to
finish me off.
    Sometimes I vary the action and have him lick my arse. That’s delightful and the idea of it always makes me come in real life. I flatten myself against him and spread my cheeks so that his
tongue is pressed hard against my hole. I order him to push inside me and feel his tongue, wet but suprisingly cold, slither into my back passage. I don’t need to dream about that for long
before fireworks start to explode in my head and my stomach starts to churn with lust.
    Everything I’ve fantasized about so far I would, given the chance, enact in real life. I’ve tried to drop subtle hints to see if he is interested, but so far he has not risen to it
and I don’t want to try too hard and offend him. But it adds to my frustration, and in my frustration my fantasies get kinkier. I don’t believe I would ever do any of the following in
real life, but dreaming about it certainly gets me going.
    In my fantasy (and in real life too, to be honest) I get irritated by his passivity. He never fights back, he never shows any dismay at what I force him to do. So I decide that I need to test
how far he can be pushed before he starts to fight back. That’s when I resolve to take a lover. I do it openly, telling him in advance that I am going to look for someone. His eyes go all
hurt, but he doesn’t shout or forbid it, or even ask me not to: because I have said it, he accepts it. This annoys me and I push him a little harder: I ask him to recommend someone.
    “You must have some nice friends,” I say, “well-hung guys, good looking. Who could I chat up? I want to fuck one of your friends, Brian. Who should it be?”
    Finally, I find his breaking point. He refuses, crying and pleading with me. But not for long. I press my hand against his crotch and slide my thigh across him, snuggling close.
    “Come on,” I say, using my most seductive voice. “It’ll be exciting. I’ll tell you all about it afterwards.” I slip my hand inside his trousers and feel his
cock. It is fully erect. “And then after that, maybe we could have some fun together.” A quick squeeze, a lingering snog and a promise of a good time later and he agrees. He
gives me a name and sets up a meeting.
    The good thing about fantasies is that you don’t have to bother with boring detail. I get fixed up with Gary (in reality a workmate of Brian’s and very good looking) and we go out
for dinner. When I’m masturbating, I don’t usually linger on this bit – it isn’t an important part, really – but occasionally I build the scene. I have Gary fuck me in
his flat after our first date, taking me from behind and mounting me like a dog, fucking me hard and rough. He calls me a bitch and a whore and a fucking cheat and I swear back, yelling at him to
fuck me, fill my cunt with his hot prick. I like to make it as rough as possible, no romance or sensitivity at all. I make him scratch and bruise me, so that I have trophies to show Brian
later.
    When we finish fucking I hurry home as quickly as possible. Brian is waiting up, as I have ordered him to. I tell him about my evening, describing everything that happened in intimate detail. I
tell him the length of Gary’s cock, how it was much wider than his and stretched and filled me so well. I explain how he threw me on the bed and fucked me from behind, how he was hard