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Forbidden flowers : more women's sexual fantasies / Nancy Friday.

By: Material type: TextTextPublication details: New York ; Sydney : Pocket Books, c1975.Description: 324 pages ; 18 cmContent type:
  • text
Media type:
  • unmediated
Carrier type:
  • volume
ISBN:
  • 9780671741020
  • 0671679341
Subject(s):
Holdings
Item type Current library Collection Call number Copy number Status Date due Barcode Item holds
Non-Fiction Davis (Central) Library Non-Fiction Non-Fiction 306.7 FRI 1 Available T00537187
Total holds: 0

Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

Finally women can talk about what they used to only dream about...

Forbidden Flowers is Nancy Friday's second collection of sexual fantasies -- and it's even more explicit and outspoken than her original erotic masterpiece, My Secret Garden. The constant refrain from the legions of women across America who read My Secret Garden was, "Thank God I'm not the only one..." who had those wild, exciting erotic thoughts. With Forbidden Flowers, these women can yet again experience the exhilarating freedom that comes with the awareness and acceptance of their sexual selves.

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Excerpt provided by Syndetics

Chapter 3: Looking Until very recently, it was a cliche even in the medical profession that women were not turned on by reading pornography. When I began researching My Secret Garden, one doctor after another told me that women are unable to become aroused through the same kind of visual stimuli that moved men. "A woman does not look at sex as a kind of simple, physical proposition the way men can," went the usual explanation. "Pornographic books or photos leave all emotion out of sex, but unless a woman can see sex in an emotional context, she just isn't interested." This may have sounded reasonable enough; on the whole, it is fairly true of the way women lead their lives. The only problem with the explanation is that it does not account for, or even acknowledge, female lust. It did not help explain to me why. I would always find my eyes riveted to attention when I passed a man on the street who had a noticeable bulge in his trousers...why, when I went to see The Changing Room, a play in which at least a dozen naked men come on stage at one time, it was all I could do to keep my head from swiveling from side to side. I had never seen so many naked cocks presented for my inspection at one time, and although I felt no emotion for any of the actors involved, it was one of the most exciting evenings I had ever spent in a theater. Was I some kind of freak? I wondered. I had nothing to compare myself to, no role-models whose footsteps I could safely walk in. I had no cultural okay to give sanction to my prurient interest, the way men have for theirs. If a man likes to go to burlesque shows and pins photos of naked women on his wall, it shows he is one hell of a lusty guy. There is even a society based in San Diego made up of young studs who proudly label themselves "International Girl Watchers." But we are only supposed to collect photos of couples walking hand in hand in the moonlight. The whole business seemed unfair to me -- worse, it offended my sense of logic and symmetry. There must be a reverse to the coin, even if I had never heard it discussed, even if no doctor would agree with me. I remember talking to a friend's young daughter not too long ago about her experiences at the beach. "Men have these funny bulges in the front of their bathing suits," the girl said, "but you're not supposed to notice them. How do you do that?" How indeed? I get furious when I hear men and women alike say that the naked male isn't as interesting or beautiful as the naked female. Why? Why should tits be any more beautiful than a man's buttocks or cock? I believe it is men themselves who've set up the idea that their naked bodies are ugly -- or at least, too trivial or unimportant to look at, unless they have an errection! If I am right, then it is also men themselves who will have to help both sexes get over this absurd prejudice. Men are going to have to accept their own naked bodies as aesthetically satisfying, and not merely sexually useful; they will have to learn to lie back and enjoy allowing a woman to look at them. Once men can get away from the idea that they are not worth looking at if they don't have a giant, erect cock, they will be liberated from an enormous amount of their castration anxieties. They will be freed from the notion that they are either a giant penis or they are "nothing." They can be men, instead of perpetual fucking machines. To see a naked man from the rear is a sight that takes my breath away -- the awesome shape of power as the shoulders drop away into narrow hips, the hard, muscle-bunched look of an athlete's ass....There are lines in the male body that have never been mentioned, aesthetics of masculine anatomy women will soon be writing poetry about... if we can give ourselves permission to look. Unlike men, women have been trained from birth be exhibitionists. Fashion is busily revealing one aspect of our anatomy this year, hiding it the next. Who more than a woman feels more deeply in her bones the erotic power of what the eye can see? It is obvious to me that both sexes must be equally stimulated by reading and seeing sexual sights, but that women -- "ladies" -- have been culturally conditioned to deny it, even to themselves. Both sexes respond to natural things like sunshine, furry animals, the feeling of speed, the sound of music -- why should there be this great divide in what turns on the individual sexes? If both women and men like sex, both must like it in all its manifestations, even the most fleeting. After I had written in My Secret Garden that I was "an inveterate crotchwatcher," woman after woman has taken me aside to tell me, with a relieved laugh, that she was too. (You will also find mention of the pleasures of fantasizing what goes on under a man's tight-fitting pants in many of the letters in this book.) Roxanne too sends evidence that I'm not alone in getting an erotic charge out of things I see. Her letter contains eleven different fantasies, all of which involve looking and being looked at. But her letter ends on a sad note, I feel -- one that does much to explain why women are so afraid to confess their excitement at seeing something sexual. "...I must stop now," Roxanne concludes, "as my husband is coming home. He's great but rather traditional, so I don't want him to see all this." Instead of seeing women's sexual response to things they see or read as one more erotic avenue to explore together, too many men see it as a threat, a sign of raging sexuality that they are afraid they may not be able to satisfy. "My ex-husband would rather think of me as frigid," a friend recently said to me, "than think maybe I wasn't getting enough." * * * Roxanne I have a number of favorite fantasies -- I say favorite because if I described all of my fantasies I'd be able to write a book myself. So anyway, as my vaginal juices start proliferating, here goes: Fantasy 1: There is a pornographic book and magazine store fairly near where I live. The magazines are especially great, with all types of pictures and advice, including how guys can best fuck guys, and so forth. Anyway, I see myself going in there with some type of revealing clothing on and definitely NO underwear of any kind. Whatever the top material is, my nipples will be clearly visible, and the bottom part will be some sort of skirt-dress. I go in and start paging through some magazines when I accidently on purpose drop one. I bend over to pick it up, thus revealing my ass and cunt in all their glory. The young male proprietor naturally is watching me all along, and he has all he can do to contain himself. Sometimes he'll rush over and before I even get a chance to get up, he sticks his enormous prick in me -- in my asshole, in my cunt -- no matter -- and pumps to our hearts' delight. Sometimes he won't approach me, so I'll take a few magazines to him to purchase and say, "Boy, I'll bet you get horny working in a place like this," or "You should have a back room where horny females like me can get some fucking when they need it -- like right now." He looks at me with lust and tells me they do have such a room! He directs me and in I go with my throbbing body. What should be in there but three gorgeous guys, and I direct the show. Wow -- have you ever had all three holes fucked simultaneously? Another great feeling is to be held by two guys and raised up and down on a third guy's prick -- first slowly and then with progressive speed. After all this, I still want more variety. I take one guy into the adjoining shower with me and ask him to pee on me -- yes -- pee on my boobs and tummy and cunt. That's exciting! After that, I bend over on all fours and tell him to "stick it up my ass," which he obligingly does. This particular fantasy usually ends about here. This very morning, I went to the bookstore to act this out (at least in the initial stages) only to find out they had gone out of business. Would you believe that? And I was ready! All I had on was a white peasant blouse off-the-shoulders and a short peasant type skirt -- no undies! If I had bent over or if a good wind had come along, I either would've been arrested or raped -- maybe both. I sure was disappointed and frustrated! I went home and masturbated with an artificial banana, which, believe me, was no substitute for a cock (or cocks). Fantasy 2: I have tremendous exhibitionist urges -- like the bending over previously described. I get a lot of these ideas from looking at magazine photos. I'd LOVE to perform a strip act which culminated in fucking the whole damn male audience. I'd like to masturbate manually or with cucumbers or whatever on stage and drive men to distraction. Fantasy 3: I'd like to be casually dressed in some public place as a department store with my button-down-the-front blouse open just far enough to let a boob show from the side for the benefit of male passersby. Occasionally, someone grabs it and starts tearing my clothes off from lust. Fantasy 4: Here's something I actually did a few weeks ago. I again had on no underwear, and I parked my car in a parking lot next to a tall building where construction was being carried out. There were workmen a few floors above me, so I decided to give them a treat....I pulled my skirt up (in the car) and began to masturbate with my finger. After a few minutes, I had quite an appreciative audience. I would've liked screwing one or more of them, but time pressures didn't allow. Alas! Fantasy 5: I'd love to be seeing a porno film in a theater -- I can feel and see myself getting hot and wet because the film is really turning me on. All of a sudden, I feel a strange hand on my thigh slowly heading for my black tiny bikini panties. The hand reaches its mark and finds me wet and ready. To avoid creating too much of a disturbance, I remove the panties, and he opens his fly. I move over and sit on his lap thereby causing his twelve-inch-long sex tool to go easily and smoothly into my burning sex hole -- up and down I go till we exhaust ourselves in climax. Then we part and he moves to a different location in the darkened theater. I've never seen his face -- it wasn't necessary. I just now stuck my finger up my twat as I'm writing this -- my god -- I don't even feel human -- just one whole sex machine. Fantasy 6: At other times, I see myself as a teacher of middle-to-late teen years boys. They don't especially turn me on, but I'd like to sit on the desk with my legs apart and turn THEM on by letting them see my sex organs "accidentally." Sometimes, a cooperative fellow teacher (male) comes into the room, and we demonstrate to them "proper" oral lovemaking. He undresses me slowly and completely, and I again sit on the desk -- now completely naked. He asks me to sit with my legs apart so the whole class can see my cunt and asshole. He spreads my labia part and describes my female anatomy to the class. While he's touching and describing, I'm going crazy and am moving my body about in wild abandon. The boys at their desks are one-by-one opening their flies to let their cocks escape. Here and there, I see a fountain of semen exploding. My fellow teacher now goes down on me by titillating my clitoris with his tongue. He goes down slowly until his tongue slips into my vagina, and his finger is up my ass. I'm still on the desk. By now, boys are fucking boys and several are clawing at me -- sucking my nipples and trying to move the teacher out of the way so they can get at me. This goes on and on.... Fantasy 7: I really get turned on by looking at naked men in Playgirl. While looking, I sometimes imagine myself at home with minimal revealing clothing on -- maybe a see-through shortie nightgown. I've been looking at myself in the full-length mirror in the bedroom and admiring my body. In front of the mirror, I've been executing some bumps and grinds in various stages of partial disrobing. I've also been watching myself masturbate. but this never really satisfies me, so I'm in one hell of a bad way when there's a knock on the front door. I go to the living room, peek through the blinds, and see a deliveryman with a package for me. By this time, he's really banging on the door, so I figure, "Oh, shit, if he's in such a hurry, I'll just open up." And open up I do -- both the door and myself. When I open the door, he asks me to sign for the package; as I am signing, he is looking. When I finish signing, it is my turn to look -- at his crotch. Needless to say, it is really bulging! He is standing slightly inside the door, so as I reach to close it behind him, my nipples brush his bare arm. That's all he needs. He grabs me, lifts me up, and carries me over to a living room chair, where he places me on the chair with one of my legs over each arm of the chair, thus leaving me slightly suspended and with my genitals completely exposed. He pulls up my nightgown over my head and leaves me with nothing on. I am so excited I can feel the juices coming out of me. He whips out of his pocket an artificial cock and sticks it in me -- up and down it goes till I come and come and come. Then he picks me up and puts me on the floor and fucks me till I'm delirious. While this is going on, my dog enters the living room and starts sniffing and whining, and his prick starts popping out. He doesn't have a chance, though, because my deliveryman is delivering too good for me to pay any attention to my dog...maybe some other time. Fantasy 8: I'd also like to find a guy who would like to lie down in the bathtub with me straddling him and let me pee all over him. Fantasy 9: I occasionally visualize myself walking into a college fraternity and announcing my availability for ANYONE who's there and ready. Fantasy 10: I'm a patron in a strip-bar. The girl on stage is doing her thing and has nothing on but a G-string. I'm there alone, and the room is filled with men who are all excited from watching the stripper. Strippers excite me too -- but I want a MAN to satisfy me. One approaches me, sits next to me, and puts his hand under my skirt. In a very short time, he's got four fingers in my hole, and I don't give a damn who's watching. Pretty soon, all eyes are on us. I'm laid out in the booth, and he's undressing. He gets on top of me, and then me on him; when I'm on top of him, my boobs are bouncing like crazy, and pretty soon I feel another prick going up my ass. We're all keeping time to the music. The stripper is still dancing, and she takes her G-string off and starts masturbating herself with a candle from one of the tables. People are applauding, yelling, and cussing, and the music gets louder and louder. It feels so good -- it just never ends. Fantasy 11: I love to pose for porno pictures in real life....not professionally -- just for my lovers. God, that's exciting. I'll pose in ANY way regardless. You name it -- I'll do it. I love to later look at the pictures and get excited all over again. Once, a guy and myself took a picture in a mirror of me sucking his cock -- to look at that later was absolutely fascinating and thrilling. I walk around most of the time in a horny condition. Sometimes I can't even concentrate, and that's bad because I'm a college-educated professional person....I won't say what profession, because I can't risk identification in any way. Well, there are more, but I must stop now as my husband is coming home. He's great but rather traditional, so I don't want him to see all this. I'm anxious to read your second book -- hope you can use some of this in it. * * * A few years ago, I used to write frequently for Cosmopolitan magazine. I remember talking one day to Helen Gurley Brown. She was thinking of doing something very daring: she wanted to run a nude male centerfold. She wanted my help in finding the right man. I happily fell to thinking of who this Mr. Right could be, summoning up at least a dozen from my own fantasies. Helen was very anxious about the project: she was worried that it might turn off many women unless it was done in good taste. She had cause for her concern: it had never been done before in any woman's magazine published in America. What Helen didn't realize was that the women in her audience were more than ready for her experiment. I had earlier discovered in my own research for My Secret Garden that the best way to relax women's anxiety about talking honestly about their erotic ideas was to tell them about my own behavior first. This gave them a role-model, someone they could identify with, and the feeling they were not alone in discussing any sexual area. Therefore, in the hundreds of questionnaires I circulated for Garden, I described myself as an "avid crotch-watcher," and asked if the reader was one too. That question never failed to get a response. Most women wrote that they were crotch-watchers too, others said they loved seeing "men's bottoms," "examining their pants to see which leg it hung down in," or just plain "looking." Sharon says, "I find myself many times looking at the crotches of men's pants, just as I sometimes find men gazing at my breasts!" "I've always been an inveterate crotch-watcher," Molly writes. "I love it when I see some guy with a partial erection. I am delighted to find I'm not alone." The response I was getting (in a small way) to my questionnaire was multiplied a thousand times by the reaction to that first photo of the naked Burt Reynolds in Cosmo. If, for her own reasons, Helen Brown decided not to continue nude male photos as a regular feature, she nevertheless did found an entire industry. There are now several women's magazines that feature pages of naked men with ever-increasing variety and size of genitalia for the leisurely inspection of the women of America -- many of whom had never before seen these mysterious parts of male anatomy up close and in living color. If much of this photographic effort is still in bad taste -- or more to the point, not to your taste -- here are several reasons to explain it. One is that I don't think that these new magazines have figured out how to photograph the naked male in the way women would like to see a man. Perhaps the big clue to this is that the magazines in question are owned and published by men, or have male art directors. Therefore, the naked men are depicted in the way these men feel women would respond: the naked football player, hairy actor, or model is shown in all his muscular beauty alongside a stallion with flaring nostrils and a sexual organ rivaled only by the size of the model's...or else there is the inevitable Maserati or Ferrari vroom-vrooming alongside. The art director could not believe those poor women out there would "get it" unless the photo were power-packed with male phallic symbols. The man alone wasn't enough...these other men thought. These new magazines have been grinding out male pinups now for a couple of years. Because I am all in favor of it, and only regret that they don't do it better, I am pleased to see that they are learning to drop the horses, cars, and other barbed-wire masculinity props. They must have begun to listen to the women "out there" instead of to the anxious noises in their own heads: a woman does not need any symbols to help her recognize that the naked penis she is looking at belongs to a man. Another and still on-going misconception about what women enjoy in looking at naked men is the belief that if the penis isn't a foot long, no woman could be bothered. Once again, the question must be asked: Are the men who hold these fixed ideas getting them from their audience, or is it a response to their own, inner anxiety? The idea that size is everything is the very turning point in the new Mel Brooks film, The Young Frankenstein. In this movie, the frigid, manipulative young woman has no qualms about brushing off her curly-haired lover, but is brought to orgasm and "womanhood" by the immensity of the monster's monstrous cock. At the point in the film where her eyes rivet on the gigantic tool approaching her maidenhead, her face registers fear and horror, but in the ensuing moment of penetration her voice reaches a relieved, resounding high C of song and exuberance. The audience breaks up with laughter; everybody gets the joke. But it's no joke in real life. One of men's greatest sexual hang-ups concerns the size of their cock. They really believe that size is everything; psychiatrists do a lot of business treating patients with terrible complexes about the sexual inadequacy of their penis size. ("It's only seven inches, Doctor.") What hasn't come across to the people who create these films and centerfolds is that while women in this book, or in jokes among themselves, may go on about this or that "huge," "gigantic," or "monster" cock, the entire idea must be taken as a metaphor for the pleasure they desire...size is the purely symbolic measure of their exuberant approach to the joys of sex. What woman wants to be ripped open in real life by an enormous penis, jammed and made sore by some tremendous cock? Women's insistence on size in their conversation or fantasies is merely the "handle" on which to hang their dream. It is their cry for more sexual pleasure, for a larger, more intense experience -- not a larger tool. I have heard very few women deplore the small size of their lover. As any doctor or experienced woman can tell you, it's not the quantity but the quality of the cock, the expertise of the lover. This male preoccupation with, and fear about, his own inadequacy has so far bred (for me) a disappointing overindulgence in centerfold photos of men with penises so big and swollen there is no room for imagination. While Jackie writes that she is turned on by the intensely masochistic, but very well-written novel, The Story of O, and by other things she reads and sees, she finds no stimulation in "dirty movies," because they are "unimaginative and tasteless." To any man who says, "But what woman wants to see a limp cock?" I can only answer -- "Who better than a woman knows what can be made of a limp cock?" Give us something real to work with. I am all for photos of naked men being made available to us in women's magazines. I wish I'd had them when I was growing up. Why should men's genitalia be a mystery? But these magazines' success in the long run, is going to depend upon the development of an audience of women who have learned how to respond to the sight of naked men in films, photos, and all media. When women relax enough, and allow their own genuine emotions and reactions to enter their consciousness...when they feel free enough to play with the emotions aroused within themselves at the sight of these beautiful naked men...when they have learned "to look" and be honestly receptive...the message will get back to the industry, and the industry will learn sophistication from its audience: women enjoying looking; this is what they like to look at. Any new industry takes time for supply and demand to get together, especially in an area so sensitive and taboo as women unashamedly looking and enjoying the sight of naked men. I hope we get enough time, that the art of photographing male nudes progresses so that it can command a genuine mass audience, month after month, year after year. I hope the opportunity for women to see and enjoy the male nude is not just a passing fad. It answers a very real sexual need among women...and anything that does can only reflect beneficially on men. I believe it will happen. If nothing else, we are a tyrannically commercial country. Industry has long known it could use feminine sex appeal to sell men anything from convertibles to mutual funds. Once it becomes clear that male sex appeal can work the same salesmanship wonders with women, the state of the art will move ahead with the speed of a cash register ringing up a dollar sign. I am not applauding mindless materialism. I am merely saying that one of the serendipitous by-products of the inevitable growth in the use of male sex appeal by the advertising industry is that it will at last give women social sanction to enjoy being the looker -- at last -- and not always and only the looked-at. * * * Sharon I have just finished reading your book, My Secret Garden. I would like to say thanks for writing such a book. I felt I should write and tell you my fantasies (sexual). But first, I think it is necessary for you to know a little about me. I am a single, nineteen-year-old sophomore in college. I attend a small junior college here in my hometown. Because the town is so small, everybody, especially the young people, know practically everyone else. My parents are pretty uptight about sex. My mother only told me the basics about menstruation and all that, which I already knew when she finally told me. My father never told me anything! I have two brothers whom I have helped bathe, and I used to baby-sit for four boys a lot, so I've known for a long time what a penis looked like. The penis has always intrigued me, so when I became able to read such advanced material, I did just that. Reading books and magazines is the way I've learned about sex and the male and female bodies. I masturbate occasionally, when I have the privacy, but I've never been able to have an orgasm. I have had intercourse with only two guys. One is my brother who is seventeen years old. The other is a friend of my brother's who is eighteen years old. But I've never been able to have an orgasm with either of them. There is a guy that I date sometimes whom I feel I could have an orgasm with if I could get him to go all the way with me! I come very close to having an orgasm when I fantasize about him. I'll call him D. In my fantasies, D. and I start out doing stuff like eating at a nice restaurant or something. Then we go to one of our houses and start drinking. We usually drink rum and coke. After about the third drink, D. starts kissing me and playing with my breasts and stuff like that. This is where the fantasy begins, because in reality, that's where we leave off. We're lying on the sofa, and I become very horny and so does he. We undress and go into a bedroom where we make love, usually with at least the bedside lamp on. I dream that I have at least three orgasms and that we make love again the next morning. Then I have a fantasy in which a total stranger comes to my door and I seduce him. Although I have adequate breasts (36C), in my fantasies I usually have very large, round breasts. My hair is usually very long and has lots of body. I have one fantasy in which I am a stripteaser in a burlesque show. In my fantasy, I come out on the stage in a long red low-cut dress with a slit up the side to the base of my hip. My hair is jet black and nearly to my hips. I start doing a very seductive dance, all the men begin to whistle and applaud, and there are a few in the front row that have erections! I begin by taking off my long red gloves, next I take off my large loop earrings. Then I take off my shoes. I then open the slit to reveal the end of a garter and the top of my hose. (The garter belt is red also.) I open the slit just wide enough for the men to see that I have on NO panties. Then I close the slit, do a few more seductive moves; then I undo one strap, which really gets the men going. I undo the other strap and then I begin to unzip the dress (it zips on the side of the slit). I very slowly unzip it. But even then I'm not nude. I have on the garter, stockings. and red strapless bra! I slowly continue to undress, teasing the men a lot! Finally, when I am nude, a man from the audience (front row) can no longer control himself. He runs up and throws me down on the stage and begins fucking me! All the other men in the audience masturbate themselves or each other. There are variations to this and all my other fantasies. Another one that I have is one in which I'm raped! I've never fantasized about strangers or dogs though most of the time, the men in my fantasies are men I happen to be attracted to at that time! I find myself many times looking at the crotches of men's pants, just as I find men gazing at my breasts. I feel that I have certain lesbian tendencies, because my first fantasies were of other girls, and sometimes I'll still have a fantasy of a girl or woman. I also find that I get excited when I see pictures of nude women! If I ever had the opportunity for a lesbian experience, I doubt that I would pass it up. But I could never be totally lesbian. Right now, I'm looking for a nice, somewhat older man who will teach me all I need to know about sex, for I am very inexperienced and dumb. If you know anyone like this, send him my way! I've always had sexual fantasies, and for a long time, I thought they were abnormal and weird, and I tried to suppress them. But I don't anymore. I hope I have helped your research just a little bit. I am looking forward to your next book. Thanks again for My Secret Garden. Molly I love you! Having just read My Secret Garden, I feel compelled to write to you. I just this moment finished the book, and I have so many jumbled thoughts that I'll try to relate my feelings to you in some orderly fashion. First, I'm still turned on. Your book had an enormous erotic effect on me. Need I say that I had to stop numerous times to masturbate. But, oddly enough, myOWN erotic fantasies are still much more exciting to me than simply reading others. I have never felt guilty about fantasizing during masturbation -- I always considered that quite natural and have been doing so ever since I started masturbating regularly at age five. But I got the greatest relief in reading that other women regularly fantasize while fucking. I always felt terribly guilty about fucking one man and thinking about another. Now I realize it's not abnormal or unfair or a put-down of the guy I'm with -- it just makes everything more enjoyable. What a great discovery and a great release. Thank you! The other delightful result is that I feel closer to other women. Wouldn't it be great if we could all discuss these things with each other, rather than reading it in a book? Maybe now I will. It really allows me to feel more open to other women. Two other minor points. I've always been an inveterate crotch-watcher, and I love it when I see some guy with a partial erection. I am delighted to find that I'm not alone. Also, sometimes I fantasize fondling and sucking another woman's breasts, and I always look at breasts. I'm glad this is also common, as I always feared I was harboring some deeply hidden lesbian tendencies. Now I know this isn't so and that my fantasy is quite common and natural. I have only one objection. On the back of the paperback edition there is a quote from Dr. Leonard Cammer saying that fantasy "allows a needed escape from unfulfilled reality." Bullshit! He completely missed the whole point of your book -- it ENHANCES reality and is NOT an escape. Typical sexist comment from a male, who really does not understand women. Thank you, Nancy for allowing me to feel better about myself. Everyone should read your book. P.S. I am college-educated, thirty, single. Jackie I've just finished My Secret Garden. Thank you very much for collecting these fantasies. Reading the book has made me feel much more at ease about the normalcy of my own fantasies. (Incidentally, I am twenty-six years Excerpted from Forbidden Flowers by Nancy Friday All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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