Table of Contents
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Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
About the Author
Excerpt: The New Sexual Underground
Doing It!
John Warren Wells
Lawrence Block
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copyright © 1972, 2012, Lawrence Block
All Rights Reserved
Introduction
A LETTER FROM JOHN WARREN WELLS
Dear Bob:
I’ve been going over my published columns with the idea of preparing an introduction for their publication in book form. This is the first time I’ve read them in a body, and I found it an interesting experience. I was especially struck by the way the column very definitely evolved from month to month, taking its shape from the particular correspondence received during that time. Certain themes spring up, weave in and out for a time, then resolve themselves one way or another. The end result is unplanned, a creature of organic growth in a way a book could never be . . .
It seems to me that an introduction for such a book should be consistent with the book itself, random and informal, deriving from specific time and circumstance. I thought at first of coaching it in the form of a letter to the reader, then thought I’d rather structure it as a letter to your estimable self. Since the readers will throughout be reading other people’s mail, why not let them begin in that fashion, reading this introduction over your shoulder, as it were.
Ah, Bob, I just hope it doesn’t make you nervous to have people reading over your shoulder . . .
• • •
As I re-read the columns, I was strongly tempted to do a little editing prior to publication in book form. There are certain phrases which recur, certain themes constantly reiterated. The constant exhortations to readers to write letters themselves, for example. But I’ve decided to leave things as they were, so that the readers can see the columns en bloc just as they appeared from month to month.
It might be worth explaining how the column managed to change titles in midstream. When it first appeared in the October ’70 issue of Swank, it ran under the title of “Group Grope.” This seemed to me, as I explained in the introductory column itself, to convey something of both the tone and purpose of the column as I foresaw it, an open forum in which readers could share their sexual experiences, ideas, and concerns so that all of us, as a group, could grope toward an understanding—of our own selves, of others, and of sexuality in general. Further, the word play of the title was suggestive of the sort of happy irreverence toward the theme which I felt quite essential if we were to avoid the dry and depressing aura of stuffy scholarship.
After a couple of appearances, wiser heads prevailed; “Group Grope” turned itself into “Letters to John Warren Wells.” It’s so gratifying to have one’s name in the title that I could no more have objected to the change than I could have suggested such an ego trip for myself in the first place. I might add that the title change was absolutely the only editorial intervention to which the column was ever subjected. Herman Petras, Swank’s editor, has throughout been both an amiable man to work with and a conscientious man with a blue pencil, often going to great lengths to refrain from cutting my columns. The sole cut consisted of the deletion of the Things Worth Reading paragraph in the second column, which was cropped because of space limitations and which has been restored here. No one has ever been better served by an editor, and this seems an appropriate time and place to thank Herman. Similar thanks are due—and are hereby extended—to Janice Rubin, who sees to it that mail gets to me promptly. Her ornamental effect is equaled only by her disarming efficiency.
Magnanimous moods come upon me infrequently, as you may know. While I’m in one, let me offer proper acknowledgement to Irwin Stein, the farsighted young publisher of both Swank and Lancer Books. The idea for the column grew directly out of several conversations between us. But for Irwin’s vision and courage, my correspondence would remain unsung, unhonored, and (shudder!) unprofitable.
Of course the idea of a correspondence column with a sexual theme was not blindingly original. Several magazines have offered something similar in the past, and in some cases such columns have been a fairly transparent device for printing erotic material with little purpose beyond titillation (Not that I have anything against titillation, but I don’t see why it has to masquerade as science.) In at least one case, it’s fairly obvious that the letters are either written as pure fiction or rewritten heavily for erotic effect. Furthermore, the bulk of these columns simply print letters and let it go at that. I felt an interchange between myself and my correspondents would be valuable for reasons of continuity and perspective . . .
In all my books, I owe a great debt to the men and women who have been willing to reveal themselves to me, either through correspondence or interviews. Nowhere is the debt more apparent than in this present volume. Without letters from readers, there very simply would have been no column, and hence no book. My anonymous correspondents are literally the authors of Letters to John Warren Wells and I only hope I have given them something in return. Naturally enough I like to think the column has performed a service beyond that of keeping me out of debtor’s prison and in Scotch and cigarettes. And I’m fairly certain it has, Bob. I receive a great many letters which never see print. Some are requests for information, but many others simply express their approval of the column and say in one way or another that it has helped them understand their own sexual predilections better and deal more capably with the problems of their own lives. And I would think that my correspondents are helped by the simple act of writing, of confiding in a sympathetic stranger. The confessional impulse is a very valid one, and not everyone can conveniently employ a priest or a psychiatrist in this capacity. So I’m able to assure myself that perhaps I do a little good in the world to offset the space I occupy.
You asked me the other day if I thought all of the letters I’ve printed are legitimate. Oh, I suppose there are a few phonies in the bunch. I’ve engaged in correspondence of this nature for quite a few years before the column got underway, and I think I’m fairly good at detecting fraudulent letters, and periodically refrain from printing a letter because I have reason to doubt its authenticity. But a couple of letters which I’ve printed strike me as somewhat dubious. I won’t say which ones they are but will let the readers form their own conclusions. As far as that goes, a false letter is often quite as revealing as a true one. Freud was once at the point of scrapping some of his theories when he discovered that many of his patients were lying to him; then he came to the realization that fantasies and evasions were as significant in their own way as truth.
• • •
How quickly the months have gone by! If Prufrock measured out his life in coffee spoons, I’ve measured out the past year in magazine columns. I remember preparing the first columns last summer, sorting through letters received in response to my books during the past few years, anxious for the column to appear on newsstands so that it could feed itself with letters from its own readers. I was enthusiastic about the project from the start, and no doubt bored the hell out of my friends on the subject.
Some of them, I recall, were more amused than enthusiastic
. I remember one young lady who raised her eyebrows and made the face one makes when suddenly surprised by an unpleasant odor. “Then you’ll be writing a sort of Playboy Advisor for perverts,” she said. “How fascinating.”
I like the image—a Playboy Advisor for perverts would no doubt concern itself with intriguing questions, such as what do you wear to an orgy and what wine goes with cunnilingus . . .
The whole concept of perversion bothers me, and I think one of the happier aspects of the New Morality is a disinclination to apply the label as indiscriminately as in the past. So many of the people who write to me are concerned that they are perverted, that they are not “normal.” I’ve given up trying to figure out what the hell normal is. But I’ve managed to define “perversion” to my own satisfaction. The definition is wholly subjective, which is perhaps the point. That is, a pervert is someone who does something he’s ashamed of.
Thus masturbation and fetishism and transvestism and oral sex and whatever can be perverted, if the person practicing them is at once guilty over their performance and incapable of desisting from performing them. If he can engage in them with a clear conscience, then they’re normal.
I tried out this definition on a few acquaintances and one offered the objection that a man might expose himself on the subway or molest children or hack women’s breasts off without any guilt feelings whatsoever, and that my reasoning would refrain from labeling him a pervert. But I see no need to pin such a label on such a person. There are others in abundance—lunatic, criminal, or that old standby sonofabitch. I prefer the idea that a pervert is someone who thinks he’s a pervert, that sexual normality is in the eye not of the beholder but of the performer himself. It is our mirrors that show us up as perverts.
• • •
Is that enough, do you think? I always have mixed feelings about introductions, wanting to get the hell off the stage and let the book present itself, yet reluctant to leave out anything which might aid the reader in approaching the subsequent material. There are other points I might touch on, but I think I’ll let things stand as they are. Each column is cluttered with introductory material enough.
So it goes. In a few days it will be time to start putting another column together, and in not too many months it will be time to package another batch of columns between book covers . . . Take care, and all the best.
Jack
Chapter One
Perhaps we should begin with some introductions, first of me, then of the column. I’m John Warren Wells, Jack to my friends, thirty-two, bushily bearded and shaggily maned, a Cancerian on the Gemini cusp with Gemini rising, Moon in Taurus, Mars in Leo, and an ex-wife in Shaker Heights. I smoke and drink a lot. I also write books, about a dozen of them so far, all in the field of sexual behavior and most of them dealing with what is variously called the sexual revolution or the new morality.
Which brings us to the Group Grope, which will also be dealing with the sexual revolution-new morality, with swinging with group sex and various deviations from sexual norms. The title, besides being a cozy colloquialism for an orgy, does tell in ten letters what the column is all about. Group Grope will be a meeting place for that big group of us who are groping with new and different sexual life styles. The more we all of us learn about each other, the easier we all find it to live with our own selves.
Now you know who I am, and what Group Grope is. I don’t know you, though.
Yet.
Because it will be your letters that will be Group Grope, your letters along with my own presumably pertinent comments and answers. I’ll also be including reports of some interesting people I’ve interviewed, and some correspondence in response to books of mine, but filling the bulk of the column will be your job.
You write it and I get paid for it—it doesn’t seem fair, does it? Quite necessary, though, and not only because I have permanent need for food and shelter. I have found over the years that people who want to be paid for correspondence or interview time are unreliable subjects. They want to say or write what the interviewer wants to hear (or what they think he wants to hear) so that he won’t turn off the money faucet. I did have to pay subjects for one book, Tricks of the Trade, because they were all professional prostitutes; they felt their time was money, whether they spent it in conversation or in bed.
Grope on . . .
Dear Jack,
I’ve read all your books six times each and think you’re the greatest writer and noblest human being in the world. I would like to write a letter to Group Grope. Could you tell me how to go about it?
JWW
Dear JWW:
That’s a marvelous letter, and I’m only sorry I had to write it myself. But let me answer your question. Letters should be sent to me in care of Swank. They will be delivered to me unopened and will be read only by me. Whether or not a letter winds up in this column, I will reply personally. A stamp would be appreciated. A surprising number of correspondents don’t include a return address, or just put it on the envelope and not on the letter itself. But you’ll know better, won’t you? Your anonymity will be completely protected. If you wish, you can even protect it from me. One request—if you’re going to use names, use first names only and use the real ones. I will change all the names, and if you use fake names there’s always the chance I’ll change them back to the real ones.
I know this seems like an unlikely coincidence.
I also know that it happens. Don’t worry about boring me with an overlong letter. I won’t be bored, and any extraneous material can always be cut.
Don’t worry about shocking me, either. A few years in this business makes shock an uncommon reaction. On the other hand, don’t take this as a challenge. I like kinky mail as well as the next man, but there’s a difference between candor and porn, and candor’s better.
Don’t lie to me. I know it’s loads of fun to write a phony letter and see if you can con silly old Wells into printing it. There’s a newspaper advice columnist who has said she can always spot a leg-pull. I rather doubt it. I’m sure she can spot some of them, and so can I, but it’s no great accomplishment to write a phony letter that looks real. You might get into the column with a fake, but so what? And bear in mind that a phony letter generally tells as much about a person as a real one.
Well. We’ve had one phony letter so far, from JWW. The ones which follow are genuine and are a fairly representative sampling of my mail over the past several months—and an idea of what Group Grope is all about.
Dear Mr. Wells,
Contrary to your statements in the introduction of Three Is Not A Crowd, I have always thought it would be more enjoyable for me to share my wife with another male. (The book referred to examined permanent threesomes of a man and two women—JWW) I have also believed it would prove to be so for the female, an opinion my wife never shared.
We married young, our children are grown. My wife is in her forties and I in the early fifties. Perhaps I should add she was a virgin when I married her and has not known another man sexually. Or a woman.
Now, the idea of being sexually shared with another male appears to hold some appeal, although she discusses it shyly. Frankly, I am a little surprised at these admissions, coming during emotional excitement, but do feel it would be a good and happy experience for her.
Neither of us would feel a permanent relationship would be healthy, and since we are prominent to a degree we would deplore any scandal. Now that I have stated the case, I would like to state the problem that prompted this letter. I have not been able to find any magazines or club bulletins wherein I might find or make an advertisement. I would be grateful if you would mail this information. I am providing my correct name and address.
I, or perhaps it is better to say we, do not really know how this will turn out. I personally believe it will prove highly successful. We will be pleased to furnish you complete details as this progresses, provided we can find suitable single males. My thought here is to commit us deeply enough to gain your assistance
and prove our need to be genuine. Consequently I will add a closing paragraph to strengthen our case.
I do have a very strong desire to watch my wife being sexually possessed by a male in every possible manner and am encouraging her in this matter. She has a strong sex drive, is very strong in giving oral sex and enjoys receiving it. She never fails in having orgasms. She now desires to perform oral sex on another male and then have him, as she calls it, ride her, a position I call dog-fashion. She has a strong leaning to this position and I am not at all displeased since it will provide better observation. I also have a strong desire to watch the first penetration of her sex organ by the penis of whomever will be her first sex partner.
I have stated enough to show our case to be authentic and trusting your discretion. Your help in supplying the information requested will be appreciated more than you may realize. We are indeed desperate to make the right contacts.
Alfred
I sent Alfred a page of personal ads from one of the underground newspapers and the addresses of a couple of the better correspondence clubs. I encouraged him to write at length on his progress, and also to let me know more about his and his wife’s backgrounds and experience. I told him, too, that he was in a buyer’s market—there are dozens of single men expressing a willingness to swing with couples for every couple so inclined. I hope to hear further from him.
A very large portion of my mail consists of requests for this sort of assistance. Prospective swingers, especially in small towns and rural areas, often have great difficulty in locating any of the publications that facilitate mail-order contact. After a certain amount of soul-searching, I decided there was nothing ethically wrong in furnishing by mail information which is available throughout much of the country on newsstands and in bookstores.
Dear Mr. Wells,
I have just finished reading The New Sexual Underground. It was great. Well I have been indulging with my fiancée in sex before I came to Viet Nam. I will be out soon and getting married. Now here’s my question. We have done it all. When she brings me to a climax with her mouth, is there any danger if she swallows it? Also, could you prescribe a good book on sex for newlyweds?
Doing It! - Going Beyond the Sexual Revolution (John Warren Wells on Sexual Behavior Book 13) Page 1