At a dinner with friends — five women around a table, two bottles of wine, and that particular honesty that arrives when you've known each other long enough — the subject of fantasies landed on the table. The silence that followed lasted exactly four seconds. Four seconds during which five grown, articulate, liberated women wondered whether they could actually talk about this. Then one of them said: "I've got one that's completely unmentionable." And the conversation lasted two hours.
That four-second silence speaks volumes. In a society that claims sexual liberation, female fantasies remain one of the last active taboos. We rarely discuss them, we discuss them badly, and when we do discuss them, it's often to judge — too tame, too extreme, too weird, not "feminist" enough. The result: millions of women living with a perfectly normal erotic imagination... and the secret conviction that something is wrong with them.
This article sets out to do exactly the opposite: lay out the scientific data, unpack the psychological mechanisms, and show that fantasies — whatever they may be — are a healthy, universal and often beneficial component of human sexuality.
What is a fantasy — and what it isn't
A sexual fantasy is a mental representation with erotic content — an image, a scenario, an imagined sensation that produces arousal. It can be highly specific (a detailed scenario with context, characters, a sequence of events) or very vague (an atmosphere, a sensation, a fragment of an image). It can arise spontaneously, be deliberately summoned, accompany masturbation or emerge during partnered sex.
What a fantasy is NOT:
A plan. Fantasising about something doesn't mean wanting to experience it. The vast majority of people who have submission fantasies don't wish to be dominated in real life. The vast majority of people who fantasise about a colleague aren't going to cheat on their partner. The fantasy operates in a mental space separate from reality — that's precisely what allows it to function.
A symptom. Having fantasies — including "extreme" or "disturbing" ones — is not a sign of psychological disorder. Research is unanimous on this point: fantasies are universal, normal and functional.
An indicator of sexual orientation. Occasionally fantasising about someone of the same sex when you're heterosexual (or vice versa) is extremely common and doesn't "mean" anything specific about your orientation.
The key concept: Psychologists use the term "ego-dystonic" to describe a fantasy that conflicts with the person's conscious values. This conflict — "I fantasise about X but I shouldn't" — is the primary source of guilt. Understanding that fantasies and values operate on different registers is often the first step towards peace of mind.
Everyone fantasises (the numbers prove it)
The largest study ever conducted on sexual fantasies is that of social psychologist Justin Lehmiller, published in 2018 in Tell Me What You Want. Over 4,000 American participants of all ages, orientations and genders. Result: 97% of participants report having sexual fantasies. The remaining 3% probably includes people who didn't feel comfortable answering honestly.
In the UK, the Natsal surveys (National Surveys of Sexual Attitudes and Lifestyles) — the largest study of sexual behaviour in Britain — show that the vast majority of women report sexual fantasies. The figures are likely underestimates — social desirability bias (the tendency to give socially acceptable answers) strongly affects this type of question.
Fantasy frequency varies: some women fantasise several times a day, others a few times a month. Both are normal. A total absence of fantasy is rare but exists — and isn't pathological either, particularly among people on the asexual spectrum.
Research bias: Most fantasy studies are based on self-report questionnaires. Women systematically under-report their fantasies compared to men — not because they have fewer, but because social pressure pushes them to minimise frequency and intensity. The real figures are probably higher than studies suggest.
The most common fantasies among women
Lehmiller's study and other research (Leitenberg & Henning, 1995; Joyal, Cossette & Lapierre, 2015) allow us to map the most common female fantasies.
Romantic and emotional fantasies
The most frequent fantasy among women is that of an intensely emotional sexual encounter with a passionately desiring partner — a context of deep connection, eye contact, mutual desire. It's not simply "making love": it's being the object of irresistible desire. This type of fantasy is reported by over 80% of women surveyed.
Novelty fantasies
New partner, new location, new practice: the brain seeks novelty because dopamine — the reward neurotransmitter — responds to the unknown, not the familiar. Fantasising about a stranger, a colleague or an ex doesn't mean you're dissatisfied with your relationship. It means your brain is working normally.
Multi-partner fantasies
According to Lehmiller, approximately 89% of women have fantasised about a scenario involving more than two people. It's one of the most universal fantasies — and one of the most guilt-inducing. Yet fantasising about a multi-partner scenario says nothing about your fidelity, morality or relationship satisfaction.
Power fantasies (domination and submission)
Fantasies involving a power dynamic — being dominated, being dominant, or switching — are reported by roughly 60–65% of women in studies. This topic is sufficiently complex and loaded to warrant its own section (see below).
Location and context fantasies
Having sex in a public place, on a plane, on a beach, in an office after hours — fantasies of forbidden or unusual locations combine transgression (doing something you "shouldn't") and spontaneity. It's the "adventure" category of fantasies.
An important point: Studies show a significant gender difference in how fantasies are constructed. Male fantasies tend to be more visual and centred on the physical act. Female fantasies incorporate more context, emotion, atmosphere and narrative. This is a statistical tendency, not an absolute rule — but it partly explains why erotic literature works particularly well with female audiences.
Why the brain produces fantasies
Fantasies aren't "accidents" of thought. They fulfil specific psychological functions.
Arousal regulation: the fantasy is the brain's most powerful tool for amplifying or maintaining sexual arousal. During masturbation or partnered sex, the fantasy provides a stream of mental stimulation that complements physical stimulation.
Safe exploration: fantasy allows us to explore scenarios we don't necessarily wish to experience — but whose idea is arousing. It's a flight simulator for sexuality: you can mentally "try" things without real-world consequences.
Compensation: fantasy can compensate for what's missing in actual sexual life — novelty if daily life is routine, emotional intensity if the relationship is in a flat phase, variety if practices are limited.
Stress management: erotic fantasy triggers a release of dopamine and endorphins — it's a natural mood-regulation mechanism. Some people fantasise more during stressful periods, not from "obsession" but from a physiological need for regulation.
The "taboo" fantasies: submission, transgression and guilt
This is the topic that generates the most questions — and the most discomfort. It needs addressing with precision, because shortcuts are dangerous.
Submission fantasies
According to studies, between 30 and 60% of women report fantasies involving some form of submission — being "taken," being constrained, losing control. Bivona and Critelli's study (2009) shows that these fantasies are particularly frequent among women with a positive sexual self-image and high levels of self-confidence.
This apparent paradox — emancipated women who fantasise about losing control — has a coherent psychological explanation. The submission fantasy works precisely because it's a fantasy: the person retains complete control of the scenario (she can stop it, modify it, interrupt it at any point). It's an imaginary power game where the fantasiser holds the real power. The loss of control is simulated — and it's this safe simulation that generates arousal.
Fundamental distinction: A submission fantasy is NOT a desire for violence. Studies are categorical: there is no link between fantasising about submission and desiring — let alone accepting — real-world assault. The fantasy operates within a safe space where consent is implicit because the person herself constructs the scenario.
Transgressive fantasies
Fantasising about something forbidden, immoral or socially unacceptable is a classic psychological mechanism. Imaginary transgression produces arousal because it simultaneously activates the reward system (it's exciting) and the alert system (it's forbidden). This dual activation creates an emotional intensity that "permitted" scenarios don't produce with the same power.
It's the same psychological mechanism that makes horror films thrilling: you know you're safe (it's a film), but the brain reacts to the simulated danger anyway. The transgressive fantasy is an "erotic horror film" — the danger is simulated, the arousal is real.
Fantasy ≠ real desire: the crucial distinction
This is the keystone of all fantasy psychology. And it's the point where confusion is most dangerous.
A fantasy is a mental creation that operates in a controlled, safe space where consequences don't exist. A desire is a behavioural motivation — an urge that drives action. The two can overlap, but they are fundamentally distinct.
Concrete examples: fantasising about sex with a stranger doesn't mean wanting to cheat on your partner. Fantasising about a practice you saw in a film doesn't mean wanting to experience it. Fantasising about a submission scenario doesn't mean wanting to be submissive in everyday life.
Lehmiller's study (2018) reveals that the majority of people don't wish to enact their most frequent fantasies. And among those who do, many report that the real experience is less satisfying than the fantasy — because reality includes logistics, imperfection and consequences that the fantasy eliminates by nature.
The question that helps: If a fantasy makes you uncomfortable, ask yourself: "Would I actually want to live this scenario in reality, with all its consequences?" If the answer is no — and in the vast majority of cases it is — then the fantasy is functioning exactly as it should: as a space for mental exploration, not an action plan.
Fantasies and relationships: share or keep private?
The question comes up every time: should you tell your partner about your fantasies?
The honest answer: it depends. And the nuance matters.
Sharing can be beneficial when: the fantasy involves a practice you'd like to explore together, the couple has open, non-judgmental sexual communication, and both partners are curious and comfortable with the idea that fantasising ≠ demanding.
Keeping it private can be wise when: the fantasy involves a specific person known to the partner (a friend, a colleague), the partner tends towards insecurity or jealousy, or the fantasy is a source of private pleasure that doesn't need to be shared to function.
The golden rule: share a fantasy when you believe doing so will enrich your shared sexual life. Keep it to yourself when sharing risks hurting your partner with no benefit to the relationship. Private mental space isn't a lie — it's a right.
Trap to avoid: Never share a fantasy under pressure ("tell me your fantasy or you must be hiding something"). A fantasy shared under duress loses its intimate character and can become a source of conflict. Sharing must be voluntary, in a context of mutual trust.
Releasing the guilt
If you've reached this point with a feeling of relief — "oh, so it's normal then" — that's exactly the goal. But shedding fantasy-related guilt is rarely an instant switch. It's a process.
Step 1 — Identify the source of guilt: where does the judgement you pass on your own fantasies come from? Religious upbringing, family norms, cultural messages about "proper" female sexuality, past experiences? Identifying the source is the beginning of defusing it.
Step 2 — Absorb the data: fantasies are universal (97% of the population), normal (validated by decades of psychological research), and functional (they fulfil specific psychological roles). Yours aren't a bizarre exception — they're a variation of a fundamental human phenomenon.
Step 3 — Separate fantasy from values: your fantasies don't define who you are as a person. You can be a feminist and fantasise about submission. You can be faithful and fantasise about a stranger. You can be gentle and fantasise about something rough. These contradictions aren't inconsistencies — they're proof that the human psyche is rich, complex and non-linear.
Step 4 — Seek help if needed: if guilt about your fantasies is overwhelming, interferes with your sex life or your wellbeing, a qualified sex therapist or psychologist can help you deconstruct the thought patterns maintaining that guilt. This isn't reserved for "serious cases" — it's support for living more peacefully with your own sexuality.
A phrase to remember: "My fantasies are a space of mental freedom, not an action plan." Repeat it when guilt surfaces. It summarises the essence of what research teaches — and it has the merit of fitting in a single sentence.
Female fantasies FAQ
Is it normal to fantasise about someone other than my partner?
Yes, and it's extremely common. Studies show that the majority of people in relationships regularly fantasise about other people — known or imaginary. It signifies neither infidelity nor dissatisfaction. The brain seeks novelty to stimulate the dopaminergic system — it's a neurobiological mechanism, not a moral choice.
Does fantasising about the same sex mean I'm gay or bisexual?
Not necessarily. Sexual orientation is defined by a lasting pattern of emotional and sexual attraction, not by an isolated fantasy. Studies show that 50–60% of heterosexual women have had at least one fantasy involving another woman. Human sexuality is a spectrum, and fantasies often explore zones that actual behaviour doesn't.
Are my fantasies a sign of psychological disorder?
No, except in one very specific case: when a fantasy is the only means of achieving arousal, involves real non-consenting individuals (not imaginary ones), and causes significant distress or leads to acting out. Outside this precise clinical case — which falls under paraphilia — fantasies are a normal and healthy psychological phenomenon.
Do women fantasise less than men?
Studies show men report more frequent fantasies — but the gap shrinks considerably when you control for social desirability bias (women under-report more). The main difference is probably not in frequency but in content: female fantasies incorporate more emotion, context and narrative.
Should I try to act out my fantasies?
That's a personal choice, not an obligation. Some fantasies are best left as fantasies — their power comes precisely from their imaginary nature. Others can enrich sexual life when enacted in a safe context with the enthusiastic consent of all involved. The question isn't "should I act on it?" but "do I want to, and are the conditions of safety and consent in place?"
Is erotic romance (like Fifty Shades) a good reflection of female fantasies?
Partially. The commercial success of erotic romance confirms that fantasies of power, emotional intensity and transgression resonate with a very broad female audience. However, fiction often romanticises dynamics that would be problematic in reality (lack of explicit consent, unequal relationships). Fiction is a fantasy space — not a manual for real life.