Doing It! - Going Beyond the Sexual Revolution (John Warren Wells on Sexual Behavior Book 13)

by Lawrence Block

  The price is fifty dollars although we have gone up to seventy-five. Fifty may seem high but for this we are with the girl for two hours and both of us doing whatever comes into our heads. Usually we will do this a couple of times a month as it is “special” for us that way. As we say, fifty dollars is what you pay for two people for a dinner at a good restaurant and a show, and this way we see something better than a show and eat something better than a prime sirloin!

  G.W.

  I did reply to G.W., although he had advised me I didn’t have to. I make it a point to reply to anything that has a return address on it, if only so that the writer will know his letter arrived. Sometimes it takes awhile, because correspondence does tend to pile up, esp. when I’m out of town for a week or two. But I generally answer everything within a month of receipt. When the load is heavy, the reply may say little more than Thanks for your letter and all the best, but that’s probably better than wondering whether or not the letter’s still in your raincoat pocket, or in the Dead Letter Office in Buenos Aires.

  Thus if you write to me and don’t hear within a month, either your letter or my reply got lost in the mail. In which case please feel free to write again.

  I’ll try to tell you if your letter will be in the column, and what month to look for it. (Of course you’ll buy the magazine every month anyhow, won’t you? Won’t you???) This is sometimes tricky, however. Sometimes a column will get cut for space reasons and the letters that get left out will be slipped into later issues.

  Enough. It’s been fun putting this month’s column together, and I hope it’s also been fun to read. Now it’s your turn. Let me hear from you.

  • • •

  THINGS WORTH READING:

  Well, at least I like to think it is. A new one of mine on female bisexuality among swingers. The title is Women Who Swing Both Ways, and I don’t like it any more than you do, but these things happen. I sort of like the book itself, though . . . and, as an antidote to that rotten porn I was talking about before, Jill Emerson shows how to be erotic while being witty and sensitive and so on. Berkeley’s published Threesome and I am Curious—Thirty, and a new one, Sensuous, should be out by the time you read this. Jill’s also what the press would call a close personal friend of yours truly. So? I should give plugs to enemies??? (2012 update: I Am Curious . . . was retitled Thirty and Sensuous was retitled A Madwoman's Diary. Both are available as ebooks.)

  Chapter Six

  Let’s begin with a pair of letters from an American serviceman stationed in Europe. They arrived within a few days of one another, so that the second was mailed well before my reply to the first could have arrived.

  The letter referred to here, from “Alfred,” appeared in an earlier column. For those of you who missed it, Alfred expressed a strong desire to watch his wife perform sex with another man. His letter brought several interesting responses from readers, some of which I printed last month. The latest word I’ve had from Alfred was that he had as yet been unable to find a man for his wife.

  Dear Mr. Wells,

  Group Grope, I feel, is a wonderful approach to adult education on a much-needed subject. I was pleased with the opening column. Your delivery is almost European in its flavor and frankness. I have lived here for some years and consequently am somewhat out of touch, as it were, with what’s happening in detail in the United States. Our dear President’s treatment of the study developed on sexual mores and pornography left me under the impression that the “Dark Ages” were returning to America.

  Alfred’s letter was a cause to reminisce for me because the circumstances he anticipates are precisely those that transpired with me ten years ago when I answered an ad of a couple in New York. At the time I was living in the Philadelphia area. The husband liked to watch everything. I loved fellatio, she loved cunnilingus. We had our first meeting on a Saturday. On Sunday, after having just gotten together, we were looking at some erotic film and she suggested she would like me to try performing sodomy on her.

  I found it quite enjoyable after the initial difficulty of penetration. Probably due to the unusual contortions of his wife while being used in this manner, the husband in his excitement of trying to observe my member moving in and out of her, had straddled her facing me. Her indications that she was starting to reach orgasm precipitated his forcing his own organ into my mouth. In the course of my own excitement and his virtually simultaneous ejaculation, I learned to love performing fellatio as well as receiving it.

  I cannot recommend highly enough sexual activities for three persons. The greater breadth of fantasy that is stimulated and also possible is very rewarding. I have been fully bisexual since the occasion referred to above and most thankful for it.

  I note Miss Lois Mitchell’s badger is present in some photographs and absent in others. Dark room dodging? Or does she respect her partner and enjoy cunnilingus?

  Keep up the fine column . . .

  Duncan

  Duncan’s second letter refers to suggestions made concerning the possible effects of ingesting semen, particularly the possibility that its zinc content might have a salutary effect upon the prostate gland.

  Dear Mr. Wells,

  In the letter I had written to you last Friday I intended to comment on several things, but reminiscing on Alfred’s letter caused me to forget them at the time.

  First regarding the comments on zinc and its effect on the prostate. I believe I failed to mention that I too am fifty years old, and this of course relates to the age when more careful attention is given by doctors to the condition of the prostate. For the past several years on my annual physical exams, my doctor has told me, or shall I say just commented, that my prostate is as small and soft as that of a thirty-year-old.

  In regard to your interest in the matter, I was thirty-eight years of age when I first ingested semen, as I had mentioned in my earlier letter. During the next two years I performed fellatio possibly six to eight times only. In 1961 I met a couple with whom I became more than a casual sexual partner, and in fact we lived together for slightly over four years, until 1965.

  During this period I became very active in performing fellatio on the husband while he performed cunnilingus on his wife. We had sex at least once a day for three years and my diet therefore was very high in semen with its high zinc content. In 1966 I was transferred to another country for two years and our relationship as it had existed of course changed. Since then I think perhaps an accurate estimation of semen consumption would be once a week or perhaps once every five days. Naturally there would be some perturbations of the curve but this is a very accurate average.

  If you really have an interest in developing data on the matter you can advise me, but at any rate this subject has piqued my own curiosity and I shall follow it with some interest.

  What does the “Odd Facts Department” have on file regarding the ingestion of female secretions? Although not produced in the same quantity and of necessity lapped up rather than being delivered by ejaculation, I have on the average of four times a week been performing cunnilingus for over twenty-five years. On many occasions I have performed for hours at a time on women with a high-level sex drive.

  Some of my own “odd facts”—were you aware that although normally somewhat button-sized, that some women’s clitorises are inclined to be similar to a miniature penis? I have a Belgian friend whose clitoris when she is sexually aroused is approximately one inch in length and can be sucked in the same manner as a penis. Her sex drive is very strong and she has kept me at cunnilingus while she orgasmed twenty to thirty times in the space of an hour. She, like all women I have known who truly enjoy and want cunnilingus as an exclusive or at least primary sex act, completely depilates the mons veneris. I might add that I much prefer the smooth perfumed skin surround the vaginal opening to a full-blown beaver!

  The only other comment I intended to make related to the composition of threesomes. Anyone who has been sexually active or swinging for any length of time has certainly r
eached the conclusion that, regardless of what he does or with what, no one man can pace two women in sexual fulfillment!! Two men and one woman works fine and is more realistically attuned to the sexual capacities of all concerned. Two women and one man is ego-feeding unrealistic journalistic liberty. Again, I enjoy what you are doing with the column . . .

  Duncan

  As I said earlier, I doubt it would be a simple task to marshal sufficient data concerning semen ingestion and the health of the prostate gland. But if any other readers have contributions on the subject, I would be glad to hear about it. As to the effect of ingestion of female secretions, I have no idea of their possible nutritional composition. Does anyone out there have a thought or two on the matter?

  The relative merits of shaved or unshaved pubic hair is a matter of some controversy, although one rarely reads of public debates on the subject. I’m familiar with the argument that men who prefer hairless women are unconsciously seeking prepubescent girls as partners. This may hold true in certain cases but strikes me as a rather sweeping generalization. In quite a few cultures, women routinely remove all body hair, the pubic hair included; the removal of such hair is considered a component of femininity. In other cultures all female body hair is retained. Our own falls between the two extremes; hair in the armpit or upon the upper lip is usually removed, legs are usually shaven, and pubic hair is generally retained.

  One wonders just how many women do remove pubic hair, and how many men would prefer their doing so. One wonders, too, to what extent sexual attitudes on this question may derive less from experience than from the conditioning effect of magazine retouching. Photographs of unclad ladies have long been retouched, with airbrushes removing pubic hair. (At one stage, a popular magazine used to give the same treatment to nipples, with unfortunate results; there is something indescribably alien about the mere idea of a breast without a nipple.)

  In the case of Miss Mitchell, retouching seems to be in evidence. I have never met the lady and thus have had no opportunity for more concrete research.

  Another point Duncan raises concerns the composition of threesomes and the superiority of two men and one woman as opposed to two women and a man. It has been my observation that the combination of two women and a man is more widely sought, occurs more frequently, and is more apt to lead to a long-term alliance. In a book of mine, Three Is Not A Crowd, I studied four long-term threesomes, all of the two females and the one male variety. As far as sexual capacity is concerned, there’s no question but that women are physically capable of performing sex many more times per day than are men; a woman does not require the physical manifestation of an erection in order to perform. In most trios this fact is balanced off by female bisexuality, and also by the fact that few long-standing sexual alliances push sexual relations to the limits of human endurance anyhow.

  At the same time, though, I’ve noted in swinger publications an increase of couples desiring single men as trio partners. Read into this whatever implications you wish.

  • • •

  How do you score with a stewardess? Everybody seems to want to—at least that’s the consensus of letters received in response to a book of mine on the subject. The men who answered either boasted about their experiences—real or imaginary—or asked for advice.

  The woman who wrote the following is now a successful magazine editor in New York. She was a stewardess for several years and left the business with a good measure of contempt for it. Her “advice” is on the wry side, but what she has to say is worth a listen.

  Dear John,

  The one thing you really ought to tell your readers is how to make out with stewardesses . . . First of all, forget every airline or stewardess joke you ever heard. Even if you heard it yesterday. Even if you think it’s hysterical. Because she’s been hearing it once a week since she started on this job, and every time she hears it she has to pretend it’s funny. And that’s more painful than hearing it for the hundredth time, which is painful enough all by itself.

  If you’re married, don’t take the ring off. All girls notice marks where wedding rings used to be. A wedding ring announces that you’re married. A white band (where the ring used to be) announces that you’re not only married, you’re also hypocritical and gutless. Nine out of ten stews are willing to date married men, and a lot of them prefer to date married men . . . On the other hand, relatively few stews are that gung-ho about dating guys who are hypocritical and gutless.

  Once she knows you’re married, just leave it at that. Don’t bring up your wife and kids conversationally. Don’t say that your wife doesn’t understand you. She probably doesn’t, and you probably don’t understand her either, but who gives a damn? Don’t praise your wife, either. And leave the pictures of your kids in your wallet. Suppose the stew was married—would you want her to do twenty minutes on her husband and children? Or on her boyfriend? Or on what a great lay her last lover was?

  If you don’t know the town, ask her if there’s any place she particularly likes. The restaurant she picks will never make the pages of Gourmet Magazine, but it will probably be better than what you could find on your own. On the other hand, if you do know the town, it is usually good policy to take her to a really good out-of-the-way French or Italian restaurant than to one of the obvious tourist traps. She won’t appreciate the difference but she’ll be flattered that you think she does.

  If she suggests winding up at the crew party, you will immediately envision a wild orgy. No way. If it was going to be a wild orgy, she wouldn’t be bringing you to it. Instead it will be eight or ten people sitting around a motel room drinking stolen airline booze out of paper cups. You will feel very much the outsider, you will have a terrible time, and she will probably ditch you so that she can come back and fuck one of the pilots.

  You may be uptight about being seen with her in public. You may be worried that some friend or business acquaintance will spot you. It is perfectly legitimate for you to be worried about this . . . but if you are at all upset by the prospect, don’t date her in the first place. If you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen. But you ought to be bright enough to realize that anyone who sees you will simply envy you. Just go ahead and do it, or else don’t do it at all. If you sneak around, you make the girl feel like a whore and make her see you as a coward. This is no way to impress her.

  By the same token, if you do run into someone, just be cool about it. Don’t introduce her as your cousin. Nine guys out of ten will know you’re full of crap, and the tenth one will innocently tell your wife he ran into you and your cousin. Just introduce her by name. Try to remember her name on the off-chance that this will come up.

  Don’t throw money around promiscuously in an attempt to impress her. Don’t be cheap, either. If you can’t afford the evening, stay home and masturbate. Above all, tip decently. Not excessively, but decently. It’s gospel that a bad tipper is a cheap person, and that a cheap man is lousy in bed and unbearable company afterward.

  Look right in her eyes when you talk to her.

  Don’t worry that she’s going to fall in love with you. She is not going to fall in love with you. Look in the mirror. Do you still seriously think she’s going to fall in love with you? Some men, desperate to spare the girl the pain of falling in love with them, are purposely nasty and unpleasant after bedtime. They may even think they are doing this for the girl’s own good. They are simply making her feel rotten, and it is not nice to make people feel rotten.

  Go down on her. This is good advice if she isn’t a stewardess. It’s even good advice if she’s your wife. And once you’re down there, stay there for awhile. In the air, the passenger always comes first—so it ought to be the other way around on the ground. It’s all right, while you’re in bed, to say you love her. She knows you don’t. But it’s nice to pretend at such moments. Don’t say anything about love before you’re in bed, however. Or after.

  Be nice to her. She’s got a rough life, and most guys like you don’t make it any eas
ier. Be nice to her if you fuck her and be nice to her if you don’t. If not fucking her is going to make the night a disaster for you, then you shouldn’t be going out with her in the first place, should you? If you want an absolute sure thing, find a hooker.

  • • •

  B-and-D, in the swinger’s lexicon, stands for bondage and discipline. This amounts to a mild form of sadomasochism, distinguished from what we might call hardcore sadomasochism in that extreme pain is not inflicted. The majority of ads in swinger publications will be found to specify “no B-and-D” while occasional magazines exist especially oriented toward this predilection.

  A few letters came in recently on this theme.

  Dear Mr. Wells,

  My husband and I read your column in Swank and thought we might take you up on your invitation to share our experiences with your readers. It is only by opening up your minds to new thoughts and ideas that people can find the ways to fulfill themselves to the utmost. Most people go through life doing everything “by the book” and never know what they are missing.

  This was the case with us. In fourteen years of marriage we had what we thought was an ideal sex life. Now we look back and realize what we had been missing.

  One night we saw a motion picture in which an actress was tied up in an awkward position and beaten. This scene had a very great impact on both of us. Driving home, we discussed the movie and each of us tentatively admitted our reactions to the scene, and each was surprised and excited to find out it had been exciting for the other as well. My husband said that he would like to tie me up the same way the girl had been tied up in the film.