Let me begin by stating that we are not “swingers” in any sense of the term. The idea of having sex with anyone else but my wife frankly disgusts me, nor has she ever expressed any interest in having sexual relations with another man. I know I would be very upset if she were to have an extramarital fling.
I must admit that I did toy with the idea of affairs in the past, although without any real intention of doing anything about it. I think it excited me to think of myself with another woman but my own feelings on the subject were such that I could only entertain this as fantasy. On two occasions several years ago I visited prostitutes, doing so because of the usual problem, that is, our marital relationship had begun to “go stale” as so often seems to happen after a decade of marriage. I felt at the time that resorting to prostitutes was not a matter of infidelity but was purely physical. However the fear of disease and the general sordidness of the experience made me not wish to repeat it more than the two occasions. The first instance, though it did disgust me, was very satisfying from a purely sexual standpoint. On the second occasion there was not even any physical pleasure, as I was unable to perform intercourse at all.
Somewhat less than two years ago, my wife and I had our initial experience with vibrators, and since that time we have become extremely enthusiastic about sex gadgets of various sorts. We now own most of the items discussed in The New Sexual Underground and find them all very useful . . .
The way this came about may be of interest to you, as I have never heard of anything like it, although it may be common for all I know as it does not come up in conversations, at least not among my circle of acquaintances. At the time I was engaged in a project of building bookshelves for our basement room. I was preparing the wood with a belt sander, and was sanding a shelf which I was holding on my lap at the time. Without my realizing what was happening, and with no sexual thoughts of any sort at the time, the vibrations of the sander induced a powerful erection. I went on “sanding” the shelf and in very little time I experienced one of the strongest orgasms ever.
I would have to say that I was somewhat ashamed of myself, but excused myself on the grounds that it had happened of its own accord and thus could not be considered a case of deliberate masturbation. However I found myself longing to repeat the experience and enjoy the sensation of vibration once again. I did not exactly give in to this desire. I would sand further boards in that manner on other occasions, but would stop before orgasm could occur, merely enjoying the pleasurable sensations and the response of erection but not continuing to completion. Perhaps it is considered masturbation in any event, but it seemed to me that there was a difference, although I did feel a certain amount of guilt nevertheless.
Shortly thereafter I happened on a display of electric vibrators at a store. The type on display was the sort which one puts on one’s hand so that the vibrations are transmitted through the hand. My first thought was to buy one of the things and masturbate with it, but because I was unwilling to do so I left the store without purchasing the device. Later it occurred to me that my wife and I could use it in foreplay, and I returned and bought it.
My wife had no idea that there was anything sexual about the vibrator. However she has always enjoyed backrubs and was enthusiastic about it for that purpose. While I was unsure whether it would have as strong an effect upon a woman as upon a man, I began by rubbing her back, then running the gadget over her buttocks and the backs of her thighs. Almost at once I detected a sexual response on her part and felt myself responding physically and mentally as well to her own excitement. I suggested she roll over so I could massage her front as well, and immediately began stroking her breasts. The reaction exceeded expectations. When I moved the vibrator to her genitals, she had an orgasm almost immediately and cried out aloud with pleasure. I mounted her and we had intercourse, during which she had another strong orgasm and my own climax was comparably intense.
From that night on the vibrator became a real part of our sex life together. “Do you want a back rub?” was our private way of suggesting sex. We found any number of ways of using the vibrator on one another, and found it enabled us to become excited through caresses of areas which we had not previously regarded as erotic zones. Furthermore, it turned out to be an invaluable aid when one or the other of us was “too tired” for sex. Either of us could thus bring the other to orgasm almost effortlessly, and often in the course of doing so we would find out we were not “too tired” after all!
We have since experimented with any number of devices, including the anal and vaginal vibrators available in adult book stores. The original vibrator has been our mainstay, however, as it seems less artificial to us as it is the human hand which makes contact with the partner rather than a piece of latex . . .
So, although we are not “swingers,” I would say that our sex life together has become quite “swinging!” I’ve often wondered how common this is. Pretty common, I would guess, as the vibrators are sold openly in all sorts of stores, and I can’t believe they are being bought for bona fide back rubs.
There have been times when we have been somewhat anxious about the normalcy of what we are doing, and I suppose many of our friends would think us to be perverted. I would not go so far as to say that our little gadget has saved our marriage, as we would have stayed married regardless, but there is no denying that it has improved it.
George
Sex gadgets are by no means the exclusive province of swingers, although it is rare to encounter a swinger who has not tried them. I would say, though, that their increased acceptance derives from much the same reasons as the increase of swinging—a discontent with the monotony of a long-standing marital relationship and an unwillingness, far stronger now than in more puritanical times, to accept this monotony as inevitable.
The desire to try something new, to find some new way of increasing sexual pleasure or overcoming sexual inadequacy, seems to be almost universal. I remember a few years back when a marriage manual offered a few special techniques, including one which called for the woman to keep a handful of ice cubes on the bedside table and jam them against the base of her husband’s scrotum at the instant of orgasm.
In an interview for Tricks of the Trade, I asked a call girl if she had had any experience with that particular technique. As a matter of fact, I merely mentioned the name of the author and she took it from there. “That sonofabitch,” she said. “In the first two months after that book came out I must have had fifteen Johns asking for an ice-spurred special. Wanting me to press ice against their balls or stick it up their asses. I told them, ‘Wait a minute, are you sure you want to do something like that to your body? Do you want to take chances with yourself?’ But I suppose they went and tried it with someone else, but wouldn’t you think simple screwing was enough? I mean, it’s not as if they couldn’t come without this. They just wanted something new, some special thrill.”
Chapter Three
I’ve just returned from a couple of hours in Times Square, a trip I wouldn’t recommend to anyone, whatever the weather. There’s a clean-up campaign currently in progress and I wanted to have a look at the results. They’re not all that impressive. The streetwalkers have moved off the main avenues but the side streets still teem with them. The porno shops and movie houses are doing business as usual. They’ve been arresting performers in the live sex shows lately, and have been making noises about closing model studios and massage parlors, but nothing much seems to have changed.
I find myself of two minds about all of this. I’ve long been totally opposed to censorship, whether of printed and filmed matter or of private acts, and have felt that attempts to legislate morality are neither effective nor justified.
Thus I’ve applauded the changes that have come about in the past few years. And the changes have been monumental; when the social history of the present decade is ultimately written, it will appear in perspective as if a whole body of laws and attitudes have changed overnight. Consider the de jure legalization of por
nography, abortion, off-track betting, the de facto legalization of prostitution and marijuana. All of this seems to add up to a general realization that adults ought to be able to do as they want insofar as they refrain from imposing on others.
And yet, and yet. A walk around Times Square does tend to raise a few questions. Midtown Manhattan simply does not look much like the New Jerusalem. There is no joy in the faces of the men slumped in their seats watching mechanical copulation in 35mm color. There is none of the New Freedom in the sidewalk scene of whores and Johns warily cruising one another, prepping themselves for joyless five-minute blow jobs in squalid hotel rooms. There is in all of this little more than the depressing recognition of the human animal’s dismal preoccupation with sex, his endless search for the one magic orgasm that will Make It All Worthwhile.
I like to think of it as a stage, a cultural ordeal that must be undergone. When pornography has been available long enough, the fundamental monotony of it should become apparent to all but low-grade morons. (This has already largely happened in Scandinavia; the bulk of the market is now tourists and export trade.)
This sexual preoccupation—it seems absurd and neurotic, and yet there may be method to it. Reichean therapy, now coming into vogue again, holds that the only way to bring about mental health is to get one’s sex life in order. When the sex life is satisfactory, the rest of life seems worth living.
A sampling of recent letters provides interesting illustration of the forms this sexual preoccupation may take, and the various ways we search for something more, something different, something . . . better.
Dear Mr. Wells,
I have just finished reading your book The Male Hustler and wanted to write to you right away. Enjoyed the book very much and found all of the interviews interesting to say the least. You certainly get the Forty-Second Street scene down pat. The whole quality of it, sneaking around, knowing the hustlers despise you but not being able to resist their appeal. If that is the right word for it.
Reading the book, I kept hoping there would be an interview with someone in my shoes. Namely a happily married man with a good family who cannot resist picking up hustlers for sex. Male hustlers that is.
I am a man of forty-seven, married, two children, employed as an insurance adjuster. Living in the suburbs. All this started two years ago. Before that I never had any desire for sex with another man. I never so much as considered it, in fact had the usual disgust for homosexuals of any sort. Then out of the blue I found myself with the desire to go down on another man. To see what it was like.
I don’t know how to explain it. Making love to my wife I would find myself having the image in mind of myself going down on a man. Of a penis in my mouth. And this thought got me hot and made sex with my wife more enjoyable, but afterwards left me filled with guilt and worrying about myself.
Finally after a lot of thought I went to Times Square to see what I could do. I had some drinks to get up my courage and kept on drinking without picking anybody up. Then just went home. A week later I went there again and “scored.”
Now it is at the point where about once a month I do it. I always have to get half drunk first and then I will walk along Forty-Second Street and engage one of them in conversation, and we wind up going to one of those hotels. I do not think of these hustlers as “sexy” and am not interested in their bodies. They do not appeal to me. That must sound ridiculous but I don’t know how to explain it. I simply have the desire to take their penises in my mouth and suck them. This act does not “turn me on” really. I sometimes get an erection while going down on them but most of the time not even that. And never have I had an orgasm from doing it.
I get something out of it and do not know what. Of course I am a miserable man and can well understand why the hustlers regard men like myself with contempt. And I do not understand why I am the way I am. I am not effeminate in any way, have no desire to dress up as a woman, would not want to caress a man’s body or kiss him or even talk with him. It is always strictly business and I want it that way. Just my mouth and his penis and I never want to see him again afterward. In fact the moment he comes my desire is finished. I spit the come out on the floor and rinse my mouth over and over again with mouthwash. Each time I tell myself never again, but down inside I know I will be back again for more of the same in a month.
I wish I could talk to someone about this but it is impossible. I went to a psychiatrist but could not bring myself to talk about what was really on my mind. Instead I talked about insomnia, well I have trouble sleeping but that was not what I wanted to talk about. I just went the one time and have not been back since.
Well I’m sorry for wasting your time. Just wanted to tell you thanks for writing the book, it’s good to know there are others in the same boat. Just wish I knew what to do about it, the whole thing is driving me crazy. I love my wife and family and am so afraid I will disgrace them. If I were ever arrested I do not know what I would do. I live with the hope that I will get over this before it is too late. That I will wake up one morning and the desire will be gone forever. That it will just go away as suddenly as it came on me . . .
The discovery of inexplicable homosexual impulses fairly late in life is not all that unusual. In some instances the desire has always been present but was previously unrecognized, and it is tempting to interpret all cases that way. But I’m not sure such an interpretation is valid. In many cases I suspect the new desire is essentially a response to sexual boredom—a marital relationship has become routine, a forbidden desire comes to mind, and largely because it is forbidden it rapidly becomes an obsession.
It seems to be an unfortunate truth that marital sex does become monotonous sooner or later. Sexual self-help manuals suggest new techniques to stave off boredom. Pornography is purchased, not only as an autoerotic end in itself, but with the hope that it will make the reader horny enough to make proper love to his wife. Mate-swapping is sought out as a means of providing sexual variety within the fabric of the marriage itself. Extramarital affairs are undertaken for much the same reason, with or without the complications of the illusion of love.
And those who do not cheat in the flesh often cheat in the mind, making physical love to one’s spouse while enjoying another partner in fantasy. Which reminds me of a story . . . A husband and wife, long married, are making love. And they go on and on and on, and neither one of them even begins to approach orgasm. Until finally the husband raises himself on an elbow, gazes sympathetically into his wife’s eyes, and says, “What’s the matter, honey—can’t you think of anybody else either?” Some couples find an answer in new forms of lovemaking which many might regard as perverted. The letter which follows is a good example.
Dear John Warren Wells,
My wife and I enjoyed The Wife-Swap Report very much. We are not swingers, although we did engage in correspondence with several other couples a few years ago. While I was anxious to give it a try, my wife was both intrigued and put off by the idea, and ultimately we decided it was not for us. Since then I have come around to her way of thinking on the subject. All in all I am glad we did not swing, and I myself have lost the desire to do so. There is one thing I found interesting in both your book and others we have read on the subject. (I might say that we both find swinging very exciting to read about. I guess the idea still fascinates us even though we rule it out for ourselves!) We have found that most couples seem to frown on people who are interested in such things as bondage and discipline, spanking, etc., and consider them freaks.
I can understand this as we were always of the same mind ourselves. When we considered swinging it was only for straight sex. We had no interest at all in “B-and-D” and could not understand those who did.
About a year ago I again began to get the desire to swing. This was for the usual reason, namely that sex had become a routine thing for us after a dozen years of marriage. We would still have periods when we would make exciting love every night for a week, but sometimes there would be a stretc
h of a month or more when it would not be good. I would not be able to be potent or she could not reach a climax or we both were just not “in the mood.” One night we had both had a few drinks and were kidding around, and for some reason which I forget I threatened to give her a spanking. She said I wouldn’t dare and one thing led to another, and it wound up with me taking her over my lap and giving her a few whacks on her bare bottom.
There was no thought of sex in either of our minds when this started. But in a way I cannot explain we both became quite excited. She struggled and shouted that I was hurting her, and I held her still and began hitting her full force on her bare butt. Before long she was squirming and moaning in passion until she suddenly had an orgasm of great intensity. I then stopped spanking her and immediately had intercourse with her. During this she had a whole series of orgasms, which she had never done before, and my own pleasure was greater than I had ever experienced in the past. Since that night it is as if a new world opened up for us. We have experimented with a variety of techniques including bondage. It is exciting to tie her so that she cannot move and have various forms of sex while she is restrained in this fashion. Also we will occasionally reverse roles, with me tied up or receiving the spanking. However the system we still find most effective is the original one, with her finding a way to provoke me and then me giving her a spanking with my hand, after which we have intercourse.
An added thrill for both of us is the knowledge that nobody has any inkling of what we do. It is our secret. At a party sometimes we will exchange glances and know that after everybody goes home we will have our spanking fun, something none of them would ever dream of.
The point is that people, including swingers, are inclined to put down this whole “scene” and think it is just for nuts and weirdos. If so, that makes us weirdos, but I do not see it that way. On the basis of our experience, I would say that more people should give it a try, whether they are swingers or just regular married couples.
Doing It! - Going Beyond the Sexual Revolution (John Warren Wells on Sexual Behavior Book 13) Page 4