The great zeal with which Jackie entered into oral-genital sex, however, was satisfaction enough. She had never done this with her husband, but had long entertained a desire for it. With me she found a willing partner. She learned in a short time how to tease my cock with fingers and mouth in a way that my wife has never learned. And she would swallow the sperm, which would be revolting to Mary to do.
Ultimately, of course, the hypocrisy of stopping short was obvious to me, and I decided to surprise Jackie by jumping up from sixty-nine one day and quickly inserting my cock into her cunt. She was thrilled, and I was glad to know, at last, at the age of thirty-nine, what it was like to make it with another woman.
I need not relate details. Suffice it to say that even though we moved several hundred miles away in less than a year from the time my affair with Jackie had begun, we were able to establish overnight dates in different cities where I would have business. But one day her college-sophomore daughter discovered in her mother’s desk one of my sexiest letters. The daughter took it to the minister who had followed me, and he to my bishop. I was nearly deposed, and of course Mary knew about the affair. Jackie’s husband had known from nearly the start, by the way, and had encouraged it.
Although I was required to swear off the relationship, and Mary decided not to seek a divorce, for the sake of our three children, it was a pretty hectic time for me. I had discovered the pleasures of sexual variety, and I didn’t want to renounce them for the rest of my life.
After a while I sought some vicarious sexual titillation through correspondence with a couple who had advertised in a sex tabloid. After only a few months of stimulating letters about a possible threesome (Jackie and I had often talked about wishing to have such an experience), the postal inspectors visited me, and it was only by moving again that I escaped serious trouble.
Early last year I decided to write to the Sexual Freedom League, about which I had read so avidly in the November, 1966, Playboy. After receiving courteous answers to my inquiries, I took out membership, and in the spring found an opportunity to cross the country on a two-week trip, and combined ecclesiastical duties with a sampling of SFL and sexual freedom.
I attended an open-house discussion of sexual freedom, and was invited to a Saturday night party in the East Bay. There, in a pleasant suburban home, with couples sipping wine, removing clothing made unnecessary by the warmth of a fireplace, I found the kind of enjoyment of sexuality that I think the good Lord must have intended for His children. The atmosphere was relaxed, Simon and Garfunkel music was in the background, and everyone was natural and free.
Couples were free to do whatever sexual act they felt like doing, provided the partner was willing and it would not offend others. In the living room, on couches and on pads on the floor, couples were quietly and lovingly petting. If they wanted to fuck, they would get up and go to one of the bedrooms, where, in the dim light, they would be one of two or three or four couples, with mattresses on the floor as well as the beds. On my way from the bathroom, I simply watched for a moment, never having seen other people fucking before. I was pleasantly surprised to find it a joyful and heart-warming sight.
The girl who was my date (thanks to a friend who had arranged it), since only couples may attend SFL parties, was an attractive divorcée of just under my own age, with a nice figure and face. She was not promiscuous and did not often attend the parties, but was free to enjoy sex with anyone she liked. We seemed to click quite soon, fortunately, and, although at the party all I dared do was lightly caress her breasts, she invited me home with her, where we enjoyed the beginning of a delightful ten-day interlude. The interlude included one more party, this time in San Francisco, where the action was faster, and most of the party was in the large “back room,” where a dozen or more mattresses were occupied with happily copulating couples. We became involved in a fivesome of two couples and a homosexual man, who enabled me to satisfy my long repressed curiosity about what it’s like to perform fellatio. I very much enjoyed having the other girl, who was quite young and pretty, fellate me, while I watched my SFL girl, Patty, enjoy the moment with the other man.
Patty has expressed a serious interest in me, since we really seem to be so much alike in intellectual background as well as sexual desires; and her divorce has been caused by her husband’s intense jealousy. If I were to give up my ministry right now, and ask Mary for a divorce, Patty would undoubtedly be the woman I would want to marry.
This leads to philosophy: how can I reconcile my sexual liberality and (according to orthodox teaching) sins with my remaining a minister? From a practical viewpoint, I hesitate to contemplate leaving, because I am really a very good minister. I am able to understand and help so many people; God can use me so greatly. And I do not find any conflict between my belief in God and His creation and my own practices of sex outside of marriage.
The only trouble is not sharing my views with Mary. It is necessary to lie to avoid hurting her. This bothers me. I love her (although we are obviously incompatible) and simply wish that she felt as I do about enjoying our sexuality with others, just as we share and enjoy a love of swimming, for example. The fact that swimming is something Mary and I enjoy doing together and alone does not mean that we should not enjoy sharing this pleasure with others who also enjoy it. I am simply not able to accept the Church’s teaching on the exclusiveness of the sexual relation to a single lifetime mate. Of course, I must be careful not to teach my own views in their fullness, or I’d be out of work.
I love sex, with my wife and in the limited extramarital experiences I have mentioned. It is something that can become animalistic (as in the orgy with which you concluded The New Sexual Underground), and men often abuse it. They so often use their partners instead of loving them. But when sexual acts of whatever nature are loving exchanges between or among consenting and loving partners, then the release that sexual satisfaction brings is perhaps as close to the divine as most human beings will ever know.
I envy those husbands and wives who enjoy lifelong sexual happiness together and who still are able to enjoy sharing their sexual experiences with others, without jealousy; and for whom, in fact, the larger dimensions of additional experiences make their own marriage more and more fun. God has truly blessed such free children of His!
Yours,
Grant
(Remember to change the name!)
Almost a year later I sent a copy of a new book to Grant, along with a note lamenting my inability to interview him, and suggesting that he bring me up to date on what direction his life had taken since I had last heard from him. I received the following letter shortly thereafter.
February 13, 1970
Dear Jack:
Thanks very much for Tricks of the Trade. It is fascinating to read, and also very valuable for anyone interested in sociology or human nature, to say nothing of what husbands and wives might learn to give variety and enrichment to their own sexual adventures . . .
Apparently my last letter to you was March 5. On March 8, I met Patty at an airport one hundred miles away. She had been visiting family in New Jersey, and made the side trip “to consult with a valued minister friend.” Consult she did; we had a nice time together at the airport motel. She obviously had found me one of her preferred occasional partners; and she spoke of taking a job in the vicinity in the not-too-distant future. Marriage was not mentioned; but it was more than a suggestion.
When I returned home, Mary knew where I had been, thanks to a member of Patty’s family calling here to get word that the chauffeured limousine would be unable to meet her plane at the airport because of snow. I couldn’t deny that I had seen Patty.
This led to tears and talk of a divorce. But soon Mary sensed that I did not intend to go on forever leading a double life, and that I could find an attractive second wife—if not Patty, then someone like her. Since she loved me so much, she said, she would be willing to go on against all her scruples and try swinging, if I’d be satisfied with doing it onl
y a few times a year.
I was overwhelmed. Never did I think that she would even consider it. I had just recently answered a swinger’s ad, and had a nice correspondence started with a couple in the environs of Pittsburgh. So it was arranged that early in May we would travel to their home, and we would look each other over. The wife, Gerda, had just had a hysterectomy and wouldn’t be able to swing that first time; but Gerda had proposed it this way, so that Mary would be the one to decide. Gerda and Hans, eight years in this country from Germany, proved to be very likable to both of us, and their home was charming. After a delicious supper, Gerda retired to the bedroom, and the three of us got comfortable in the living room. Hans soon took Mary into his arms, and they began to pet. Mary responded passionately, and indicated to me that I should go out to the car and bring in the diaphragm. We both knew then that she was willing to swing!
Soon they had undressed each other, and I, on the opposite side of the room, undressed too and greatly enjoyed watching them. Eventually we found ourselves on the soft rug before the fireplace, with pillows. Hans invited me to join him in the petting. I was a bit surprised, and thrilled, to find Mary taking some of the initiative; for instance, she initiated the oral sex; I was delighted to see her sucking Hans’s handsome cock. During the intercourse that concluded the encounter, she was very passionate and affectionate, and sympathetic to Hans for having been deprived of sex while Gerda was unavailable.
On the long drive home, Mary and I were more romantic and happy than we had been since engagement days, and we could hardly wait to get home to make love, with greater enthusiasm than we could remember. We exchanged a few more letters, Hans and Gerda indicating how pleased they had been with us both, and Hans confessing that for the first time he had had a desire to touch and please another man. Gerda said that next time all four would be together, and he and I could do as we pleased, bisexually. Both were enthusiastic about the next time.
But before that could happen, I fell ill (fractured discs, which led to their removal later on), and Mary and I developed crab lice! We couldn’t prove that it had come from Hans, but it seemed obvious that it had. Mary is an immaculate person, and much finickier than most; and this turned her against swinging immediately. We eventually got rid of the crabs, after an embarrassing visit to the doctor; but Mary declared that she was through with swinging, and that’s how it stands today, nine months later.
I have been out of action so much with the back surgery and convalescence that I haven’t been able to do much in the way of extra-curricular sex. I did answer another swinger’s ad, and have lined up a nice couple, also in the Pittsburgh area, who want just a man, for a threesome. He is bi, and she is passionate. The photo looks nice; they’re about my own age; and their letters have been very promising. He has been sick and hospitalized, too; so next spring will be the earliest we can try to meet.
I was in New York City in late January attending a conference. Ever since the San Francisco SFL party, when the homosexual gave me a chance to suck him, I’ve been interested in bisexual encounters. The SFL guy couldn’t get an erection; so I hadn’t discovered what it’s like to suck an erect penis.
Last month in New York I discovered it. I answered an ad in Screw, made a phone call, and liked the conversation, which led to a very pleasant dinner and cocktail engagement, and his returning to my hotel room. He was very refined and attractive Negro, about my age, with a large penis. I did enjoy doing sixty-nine with him, and found it agreeable to swallow his sperm. So I am especially looking forward to the threesome with the bisexual man and his pretty wife.
So the future will probably be this: a very nice time with the best wife I can imagine, and lots of wonderful sex with her. She leaves nothing to be desired. My craving for occasional variety outside of marriage is not her fault; it’s just my nature, and I accept it. I’ll probably try to satisfy it with occasional adventures, being careful not to bring home any venereal disease. I think that Mary understands me well enough to realize that this will happen. She’ll hope not, but probably knows that it will.
I suppose you still wonder how I can function as a clergyman and remain a part-time swinger and a would-be regular one. The answer is simply that I regard sexual mores as neutral ground. They can be good or bad, depending on the total situation and whether good or evil results. I am very sorry that I have to hide anything from my wife: this is the greatest evil in my own position. But I feel that more good derives from the satisfying of my desires than would derive from the frustrating and repressing of them. I am a much better person, husband, lover, and father as a result of my present sexual practice.
Religion need not deny and condemn all sex outside of marriage. The Old Testament did not forbid everything outside of marriage; it permitted men as many wives and concubines as they could afford. And Jesus had nothing to say about this, except that marriage should be for life (and I intend my own marriage to be for life). Sexual love can be shared (even with relative strangers) without being divided and subtracted from; indeed, my own limited experience leads me to believe that the sharing multiplies and enriches it.
I think that the churches are going to have to reevaluate their stands on sex. In this age of the Contraceptive Revolution, old commandments may not apply. We may be better able to appreciate the Joy, Love, and Peace that Jesus came to give us with other sexual partners than with a jealous, negative, repressive monogamy.
I have just sold an article along these lines to an underground newspaper . . .
I was interested a few months ago to find a paperback book which included several pages of a letter I had written anonymously to Mr. Magazine in 1958 or so, regarding swinging, or wife swapping, as it was called then. If you can find Wife-Swapping: A Complete Eight-Year Survey of Morals in North America, by Thomas J. B. Wilson, my thing is on pages 210-18. I find, after twelve years, that I still think as I did then, except for a paragraph on abortion. In those days I regarded it as sinful; today I do not, if the reasons for it are sound.
Incidentally, Patty has never written me since our affair in March. I think that she was becoming emotionally involved, and wanted to break it. When I first went to bed with her she said, “The only reason I let you come home with me is that in two weeks you’ll be two thousand miles away, and I don’t want to get emotionally involved.”
Mary and I have had a nice visit with Jackie and her husband, and I think that the time is near when we can all be the best of friends again.
The swingers, Gerda and Hans, were highly incensed when we wrote about the crabs. They insisted that I must have caught them elsewhere, and if that’s the kind of people we were, they didn’t want to have anything further to do with us!
The Negro in New York doesn’t even know my address, but I have his, and I may or may not wish to see him again.
That about does it, to fill you in on my sex life! But of course I’d be glad to meet you. If you can ever get out this way, let me meet you at the airport or bus station . . . Sorry I couldn’t have visited you last month in New York.
Oh, by the way, I had a good seat at Oh! Calcutta! which I loved every minute of.
Best wishes. You’re doing what I would like to do, I think.
Yours cordially,
Grant
This Is A Watchbird Watching You
I think I know a great deal about myself. I gather most people feel this way, consider themselves to be very self-analytical. But I think it’s more true in my case than with the average person, because I’ve always been such a private person. My longest and most profound conversations have always been silent ones that take place within the confines of my own mind. And also I’ve always been a troubled person, a person who felt herself to be very different from other people. I think I’m less troubled now. In fact, I know I am, not so much in terms of having gotten rid of my hang-ups, but that I’ve learned to come to terms with them and worry about them a good deal less.
Group therapy helped. I was in a group for about a month
a few years ago, while my marriage was in the process of breaking up. That was the first time, and it didn’t do me any good that I could see, largely, I guess, because I went into it with the idea of getting myself together so that I could keep my marriage together, and of course my marriage went right on deteriorating, and I didn’t really want to save it anyway; it was a bad situation, and no matter what straws I clutched at, I still knew inside that it was a bad situation. So when it was obvious that I wasn’t going to keep the marriage going, I dropped out of the group, because I saw the two as basically connected. In that sense I never gave the whole process a fair chance.
Then about two years ago I joined another group. I had read a lot in the interval about encounter groups and psychodrama and group therapy, and I developed a better sense of the possibilities. Also I think I must have grown personally to an extent, and was able to approach the experience realistically, with the idea of discovering more about myself.
As far as the people at the group were concerned, I was pretty much of a failure. Because I wouldn’t open up, and this particular group was fairly encounter-oriented. You were supposed to strive for these massive emotional breakthroughs, and if you managed to spit out all this venom and hatred and insecurity, if you managed to yell and cry and break down completely, then everybody congratulated you for really getting it all out in the open. Maybe this is good for some people. At least they think it is, and it makes them happy, although from what I’ve read, it can be very dangerous. A person makes this great breakthrough and thinks he’s discovered the philosopher’s stone and has the secret of the world in his hands, and then a week later he wakes up one morning and realizes he’s still as fucked-up as always, and he always will be, and this can plunge him into a really terrible depression. There are supposed to be a lot of cases of a thrilling and enlightening and wonderful encounter-group experience being followed a week or two later by suicide. It’s frightening, but I can see precisely how it would happen.
Beyond Group Sex: Doing Their Own Thing (John Warren Wells on Sexual Behavior) Page 2