Editor’s Note: Bare is purportedly a collection of sexual fantasies compiled by an editor hiding behind a pen name, from ordinary Irish women who, almost without exception, chose to remain anonymous. The Sunday Business Post has called it a “landmark book . . . a turning point in the self-authorship and self-ownership of Irish women’s sexual lives”. To us, it just reads like porn – but maybe there’s nothing wrong with that. Judge for yourself: here’s an extract provided by publisher Liberties Press, from a section of the book entitled “Don’t Get Caught”.
Rachel is a heterosexual woman in her forties. She enjoys fantasizing about sex with strangers in public places. Her fantasies are very different to her reality.
I am in an old library searching for something, and I’m in an aisle between two very tall bookshelves. It’s very quiet. I don’t think that there’s anybody around. It is summertime and everyone is outdoors enjoying the weather, but I need to finish this project so I’m stuck in the library.
I’m standing on my tiptoes, reaching up to take a book down off a high shelf. I’m wearing a very short skirt that rides up a bit as I stretch. Next thing, I’m aware that someone is behind me; I get the sensation of a presence. I can hear breathing, and I get a very faint scent of maleness – an aroma that isn’t unpleasant, but is unmistakeably masculine.
All of a sudden, I realise that he’s stepping closer to me, so close that he is touching my back, and that’s when I feel the hardness of his erection against me. I’m tempted to turn around, but before I can do so, I feel him wrapping his arms around me – one hand on my breast and the other grazing my thigh.
He’s gentle, but at the same time I can feel his strength, and I know that there’s no point resisting, even if I wanted to. I feel his hand reaching up under my skirt, slowly, as if he has all the time in the world. I can feel myself getting wet with arousal. His other hand caresses my breast, and my nipple is standing to attention. Then he moves to the other breast.
Not a word has been spoken, but the air is electric between us, and our breathing becomes heavier, more ragged. As his lips start to nuzzle my neck, I feel a moan building up in my throat, but he hushes me and I know that I need to remain silent. There may not be anyone in the library, but I’m not sure, and the thought of being found in this compromising position is arousing me even more.
He has been touching my thighs, teasing me for a while now, and I’m starting to wish that he’d reach higher. I try to reach behind to feel his body, but he won’t let me. I’m at his mercy.
By now he has managed to find his way underneath my thin blouse and bra, so that his hand is on my bare breasts, and he starts to become rougher and more urgent in his actions. I long for him to turn me around so that he can suck them, but I also know somehow that if I saw his face it would break the spell.
I feel the sensation of flesh against my leg and realise that his bare, hard erection is pushing up under my skirt. I want him to enter me so that I can feel his heat and his long hard length inside me. Next thing, though, he pulls my pants to one side and he starts to massage my clitoris, while his cock presses against my anus.
I’m a bit taken aback at first, but then realise that I like the sensation. He has me braced against the shelves, facing the books. He starts using his fingers to take the wetness from my pussy and rub it on my anus and his cock.
I’ve never experienced this before – I realise that I want more. I can’t help myself; I start to moan. Now that he has released my hands, I move them down to play with my own nipples and clitoris, helping him out.
Next, he puts two fingers up my cunt, and his other hand is playing with my virginal anus. He gradually inserts a finger. I really like the sensation: it’s like being taken by two men at the same time.
He must take my submission for permission, because now he carefully removes his finger and replaces it, gently, a little bit at a time, with his cock. I’ve never had a cock up my arse before and I never thought that I would like it, but this feels so good. He’s using his hands to tweak my nipples, harder now and insistent, while he’s starting to rock inside me.
I feel so full with his huge member up my back passage, but it’s a good sensation. As he rams harder into me, pushing me against the stacks of books, I help out by rubbing my own clitoris. We’re both panting now, moving together in rhythm.
I feel that I’m about to cum, screaming. I can sense that he’s almost there too. As the waves of sensation come over me, I can feel him ejaculating. It’s the best orgasm of my life, the sense of relief as I cum is amazing, and the aftershocks just keep on coming, longer than any orgasm I’ve ever experienced before.
Then, before I can turn around, he pulls out of me, zips himself back up and walks away down the long aisle of shelving. I take a moment to gather my breath and, still dripping with his cum, turn around, but he has vanished.
Conflict-of-interest alert: The managing editor of Dublin Inquirer is married to the managing editor of Liberties Press, the publisher of this book.