By Valerie Frankel
I am alone at a lake on a sunny day. I'm wearing a red bikini. I look amazing in it. While swimming, I feel like I'm being watched. When I emerge, I can't find my clothes. As I search for them along the bank and into the woods, I get lost and begin to panic.
Suddenly, a handsome park ranger appears. I explain my predicament. He stares at my body and tells me he likes my bikini - and that it would look even better on the ground. I beg him to show me the way to the trail. He agrees to help, but only if I submit to his wanton sexual desires.
Before I answer, he starts removing his clothes. He instructs me to lie down. I do as he asks, knowing my survival depends on satisfying his carnal need. He comes closer, stands above me, tells me I'm the sexiest woman he's ever seen; that he can't deny his lust. He smiles, lowers himself to his knees and then?
And then the fantasy gets far too graphic to describe in this magazine. You must have realised the scenario was a fantasy because (1) I looked amazing in a bikini, (2) I was willing to lie down on the dirty forest floor and (3) I was a passive, quivering damsel - not my personality at all.
In my mental DVD collection, I have dozens of exciting sexual stories I use to get things going when alone. The laws of physics and logic don't limit these stories of ravishment. The only boundaries in my fantasy life? The walls of my skull. I don't share them with my partner.
Three years into marriage, keeping these fantasies to myself somehow feels wrong, as if I'm withholding a side of my personality from Steve. Steve has told me he doesn't fantasise much, except to relive recent sexual memories. This makes me feel worse. He includes me in his erotic dreams; I go for park rangers. My mental trips begin to feel like betrayals, things I'm not sure he should know about.
Share or shut up?
In our too-much-information world, we assume that an honest relationship should include disclosing intimate desires. But must we swap every thought that flits into our mind? I have the urge to tell, but not the courage (yet). And will confessing my fantasies usher in deeper understanding and better sex? It could go badly, too. (Will he wonder if I'm thinking about Ranger Rick instead of him?)
Deciding to open up isn't an easy call.
"Fantasising is a way to explore your sexuality that's free of consequence," says Jenny Bivona, doctoral candidate in clinical psychology.
"Physiologically, erotic imagery typically increases desire and speeds arousal." For the uninhibited, discussing erotic imagery is a quick way to get in the mood.
"Some couples love to discuss their fantasies," says Dr Stella Resnick, a clinical psychologist. "They find it a turn-on. It's playful and flirtatious, which is great for sex."
But will Steve find it playful and flirtatious that, during our relationship, I've been mauled by other men? Will my stories make him doubt my attraction to him?
"My husband is stung by any fantasies I mention," says my friend J, a writer. "But it's not like I'm actually going to have sex with Tiger Woods! In the spirit of try, try again, I revealed another: being with two men at once. He gaped at me like he wanted to leap out of bed."
The difference between playful and threatening depends on your partner and your relationship, explains Dr Sarah E Wright, expert on sexual fantasies. Her advice: "Before you share, ask, 'Do I trust my partner? Does he respect me?'" Logic might dictate that open-minded, confident, sexually informed men would be most receptive.
Steve is open-minded. Confident? In some areas. In others? Not at all. I consider our relationship solid, but then again, sometimes the smallest conflict can make me question our bond.
"It doesn't matter how long you've been together," Sarah says. "A misunderstanding about your fantasy or his insecurity could shock or hurt him. He might think it means you're not satisfied with him."
Actually, it might mean you are. In a University of London study, psychologist Dr Glenn Wilson concluded, "Women who engaged in fantasy were usually having a satisfying sex life. Women's fantasies are liberated by sexual activity."
Somehow, I doubt J's husband would take comfort in hearing that her Tiger Woods visions indicate she's sexually satisfied at home. On the other side of the bed, my friend B's husband couldn't care less whom she fantasises about. "I talk about my fantasies almost every time we have sex," she says. "I tell him what I've been imagining. He's turned on by knowing what turns me on." They've acted out some of her visions, but they're in the minority.
"Most couples don't take the next step," Sarah says. "Those who do, often describe the experience as disappointing. Reality is rarely as good as your fantasy."
Role-playing isn't my cup of Chai. Once, my partner (long before Steve) put on a driver's cap and gloves, and I wore an ostrich feather-hemmed negligee to playact a fantasy. I felt silly. I admire people who can truly embody a Randy Countess and Horny Chauffeur, but I couldn't.
And I won't have to. There's a way to incorporate steamy imagery into your sex life - and reap the rewards of fun, increased desire and speedy arousal - in a way that's less likely to make anyone feel jealous, insulted or mortified.
Plus, it requires zero gambolling around in the bedroom in a funny hat. How? By co-creating a fantasy with your partner, then talking about it in bed, lights out, eyes closed, while you make love.
It's like phone sex, without the phone. You're in the same room, naked, touching and talking. Sarah explains. "To spice things up, a couple might want to try a threesome, but there could be consequences like STIs, baggage and jealousy.
An alternative: talking, while having sex, about how they imagine a threesome would transpire. They may come back for their next session energised - the fantasy would be enough and the experience stimulating and novel. It could maintain their fidelity and jump-start their love life."
Co-writing a sex scene
The idea of devising a fantasy with Steve intrigued me. "It's a great bonding opportunity," Sarah says. "It requires thought and effort, which can deter some people.
"Our society likes a quick fix. But if you're up for it, the extra attention will pay off. The imagination is a lot more potent than anything you can buy at a sex shop."
I'm up for it.