My fluttering soul, sprung with the pointed kiss,
Hangs hovering o'er her balmy brinks of bliss. But whilst her busy hand would guide that part
Which should convey my soul up to her heart, In liquid raptures I dissolve all o'er,
Melt into sperm, and spend at every pore. A touch from any part of her had done't:
Her hand, her foot, her very look's a cunt.
— The Imperfect Enjoyment, John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester (c. 1680)

It is said that the sacred lies concealed within the profane. The language of the sexual fantasy must necessarily lean towards the vulgar for it is impossible to convey the raw emotion, implications, and experience with polite euphemisms. We all use the same language in our sexual fantasies because we all want the same thing - to express the inexpressible; to conjure up the visceral experience of things half seen and half heard; to break through our inhibitions and expand our reality even for the briefest of moments; to energies that have no outlet in reality. To try and prettify the sex fantasy is to take the life out of it for they are "dirty" thoughts and the language and imagery must necessarily be crude, lewd, vulgar, and even pornographic.

The guttural sounds of sex are the fantasy words with 'k', 'g', 'f' sounds that are primal and covey the raw emotion of the act. They are the words that emerge from the back of the mouth, from the belly, channeled up from the groin. They ae the opposite of the clear, cultured, melodic speech of polite society. They are the forbidden words that follow in the the wake of surreptitious acts — words you would think and use if you were indeed "fucking".