I fantasise about my partner’s friends

When I have sex with my partner I frequently draw on fantasies to help me get turned on.

Often these involve me having sex with other men — including some of his friends. I don’t want actually to have sex with anyone else and the sex we have is always great, but still feel I am being unfaithful to him in some way. Or is this normal?

The psychiatrist and sex therapist Helen Singer Kaplan once wrote that “sex is composed of friction and fantasy”. The friction is self-explanatory, but the fantasy is still not terribly well understood. It’s strange when you consider that sexual fantasy is a virtually universal phenomenon. About 95% of men and women have sexual fantasies, primarily because there is a positive correlation between fantasy frequency, sexual function, and sexual satisfaction, particularly in women.

Thinking is not doing and having fantasies is normal. The fact that you fantasise about other men is not unusual. If you were fixated with a single male, I might ask if you had a crush. However, generalised partner replacement fantasies are very common and though you feel uncomfortable about the fact some of these men are your partner’s friends, it is that conflict between anxiety and desire that gives your fantasy its erotic charge.

When a sex fantasy presents itself repeatedly, it is tempting to try to interpret it as a window into subconscious desire, however in the vast majority of cases, sexual fantasy, no matter how weird or transgressive, is nothing more than a shortcut to arousal. Sometimes a fantasy becomes such a reliable trigger that it creates a kind of Pavlovian response, where you condition yourself to equate that sequence of mental pictures with easy orgasm. Eventually, just as your favourite fantasy triggers arousal, so arousal will trigger your favourite fantasy.

In her book The Force of Fantasy: Its Power to Transform Our Lives, the psychoanalyst Ethel S Person says analysts tend to use a sexual fantasy as a Rosetta stone (a clue to the patient’s psychological life) whereas sex therapists tend to utilise fantasy as a pilot light (a stimulant to excitement). Women who are not orgasmic are routinely encouraged to use sex fantasies during masturbation and sex and some sex therapists advocate partner replacement fantasy as part of this process.

Other therapists worry that partner replacement fantasies are ‘‘intimacy incongruent’’ because they “bypass” the actual partner. Clinical psychologist David Schnarch says fantasising about someone other than your partner while masturbating is a completely healthy sexual behaviour. However, when it comes to sex in a relationship, he asks: ‘‘When you realise your partner is touching you and pretending you’re someone else, does that fill you with desire?’’ If you have become so reliant on your fantasy you can’t achieve arousal through anticipation and touch, you may need to question whether this is the right sexual relationship for you.

Schnarch’s view is that the more we rely on our fantasies during actual sex, the less present we are during it, and the less fulfilling it is going to be. The counter-argument — proposed by therapists like Esther Perel — is that partner-replacement fantasies allow couples to be intimate and separate at the same time. They help to maintain a healthy balance between closeness and autonomy, and as long as people can differentiate between fantasies that are being used to ‘‘tune out’’, they can be a useful tool for sexual pleasure.

We will probably never completely understand sexual fantasy, but psychologist Dr Marta Meana suggests that for women, it is simply a reflection of our “desire to be desired”. In our fantasies we are the central pivot. Everyone wants us. All activity gravitates around us. Ultimately, however, we are in charge of what happens, when it happens and with whom. Although we rarely consider this fact, sex fantasies are deliberate patterns of thought and, as such, can suit any script we desire.

The two most common fantasies for men and women are reliving an exciting sexual experience and imagining sex with one’s current partner, according to research conducted by Vermont University in 1995. If you want to, you could try to include your partner in your narrative by thinking about particularly sexy moments you have experienced together, or even the way he tenses up before he has an orgasm. Focus on aspects of what you do with each other that you find erotic and weave those images and ideas into your story. One more admirer won’t destroy the magic amulet and you don’t have to give your partner the leading role until you are ready. Audition him. Then give him a bit part. If he performs well, in time you may find that thinking about real sex with him is as effective as thinking about fantasy sex with his friends.

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