Looking, Part 2

Forbidden Flowers
by Nancy Friday

(Page 2 of 3)

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, my OWN 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.

Copyright © 1975 by Nancy Friday

About the Author

Nancy Friday is the bestselling author of My Secret Garden, Jealousy, Men in Love, My Mother/My Self, Women on Top, The Power of Beauty and, most recently, Our Looks, Our Lives. She lives in Key West, Florida, and in Connecticut.