On sexation and sexstanding.
I know of a semi-retired fan dancer who believes the sex act is so impossibly vulgar that it is a woman’s duty to enliven it and make it amusing and entertaining. She chooses costumes for these occasions, being specially fond of tassles and bangles to provide sensual pleasure (tickling!) and musical accompaniment.
I suppose there is something slightly ludicrous about the co-habitive positions and in a bedroom lined with mirrors I would probably be inclined to laugh. Mind you, I have always had a yen to have a mirror on the ceiling over the bed and have only resisted the temptation because of grave doubts about the quality and security of modern fixing materials. The last thing you need at the crucial moment is half a ton of plate glass arriving suddenly with Him!
The man is very aware of visual stimulation, both of female anatomy and the costume, but – for most women – it is the intimate contact flesh to flesh that is all important. Being able to be very close: enfolding arms, entwining limbs, touching feet – this is the feminine basis for delicious sexual pleasure.
My suggestion would be an array of rubber outfits, boots, and masks and gloves that would all get Him wildly enthusiastic but designed in such a form that all this could be quickly discarded for the purpose of congress. Sexual athletics in long boots and heavy rubber are difficult for both partners and, to judge from readers’ letters, many ‘dressing for pleasure’ games, particularly those involving restrictions and bondage seem to conclude most satisfactorily sans costume and equipment.
I made these observations to a correspondent who had gone to a great deal of trouble and expense to design and order all enveloping outfits in heavy latex complete with dozens of straps and buckles. When complete with high boots and elaborate face mask she was likely to be rendered almost totally immobile. This His and Hers ensemble was, he told me, to be a surprise! It was that all right. Her response was simply: “If you want that sort of thing you had better get yourself a tart”.
This was a cruel, unfeeling response. What harm would it have done her to have indulged his penchant? His intention was to achieve a “communion” to their, presumably, mutual benefit. And why, I asked, would any woman think ‘a tart’ would find something acceptable simply because a cash transaction was involved?
Presumably she believed it was the rubber outfit that he worshipped and not her? In my experience this is not so. He wants to see the woman he loves dressed in the way he loves.
My correspondent’s mistake, as I pointed out to him, was not discussing the design of her outfit with her from the outset. They should – unless the lady in question was totally unfeeling, – have been able to have worked something out. They should have compromised and cooperated. The shared experience of a discussion of his interests and desires, if undertaken in the proper spirit of understanding by her, would have been pleasurable for him and would have strengthened their bonds. After all, he wasn’t asking her to wear the outfit at a Ladies Night, or a meeting of the local ratepayers. At least, I don’t think he was!
TIME AND PLACE
My correspondent claimed that he had described the outfit and she had agreed to wear it. The discussion though, it seems, took place under intimate circumstances. That was an error of timing on his part. At those moments of intimacy I would agree to any suggestion of any kind, even to climbing the north face of the Eiger, taking the view that any statements at such very tender moments are not legally binding. When one is saying ‘O yes, yes, darling’, the affirmatives are related to the current action rather than any words.
The time to discuss ‘dressing for pleasure’ is at a quiet moment, and I do believe that even if the lady is not interested in the catalogues or even in reading this flummery of mine in Atomage, there should be communication. I believe fervently that you cannot ‘communicate’ on the bed unless you can communicate in the living room.
Once the passion and courtship is over and the wedding cake has been distributed, the average woman’s mental and emotional attention is increasingly taken up with domestic, economic and, nowadays, often career interests rather than sexual games and, (I know you are going to butt in at any second with your very personal saga if I give you half a chance which I won’t as I am going to keep this sentence going as long as possible) where the man may muse in his more ample leisure about the physical pleasures of sex, stimulated no doubt by the female parade in town and country, there she is – the little woman – running a home, possibly a business, and probably coping with the demanding tasks of motherhood, so she doesn’t get much time to consider the sexual theme and variations.
What she accepts and what she wants is a delicate, tenderly evoked injunction under the sheets at night, with the whispered words while fervently hoping that the children won’t wake. To become absorbed in any sexual fantasies requires thought, time, planning and some effort. All this is in very short supply with the domestic pressures of the modern home. I don’t have children to concern me, but I do have a job and a home to run and it is extremely difficult to find all the time I’d like to devote to ‘dressing for pleasure; so I do, to a certain extent, have sympathy for the woman and her complaints, but I do say to the ladies that it is not a matter to be dismissed on the grounds that there are greater priorities in the marriage. There aren’t. The sexual drive is normally stronger than any of the human goals and the motivation stronger than economic or professional ambitions. If He is not going to get satisfaction then ultimately you are not going to get satisfaction and most of the time and effort you are expending to make a home may be wasted as the atmosphere deteriorates.
A tearful friend of mine, whose husband has just gone off with the aforementioned fan-dancer, leaving her with the children, the two dogs, the two cars, and the £90,000 house with a swimming pool, declares she had given him everything – love, loyalty, devotion, children, Cordon Bleu cooking. She had listened patiently to his business problems, entertained his boring friends, done his typing, washed and ironed his shirts and froze with him at Rugby matches.
“How about the bedroom?” I asked. “He had it painted in gold and cream” she replied. “No, I mean sex’, I said. She paused. “He had some very funny ideas about that sometimes.” “And did you?” I queried. “I’d rather not talk about it,” she said. “Pity you didn’t, was what I thought and what I almost said.
Sexual games require an attitude of indulgence and a spirit of leisure. Perhaps it should be seen as relaxation in togetherness? For most couples it is inconceivable that this sexual relaxation – sexation might be a good word for it – could take place anywhere other than in bed but this, to my mind, is to neglect the many happy, pleasurable possibilities of the physical demonstration of love.
One of the many problems, too, is that so many men, as they get older, feel they are losing out on the sexual revolution. They read in the magazines lurid and ‘ highly exaggerated accounts of sexual encounters that make them believe they are rushing into a geriatric twilight without experiencing the night of a thousand orgasms, as mentioned sceptically in this column heretofore. In the post-coitive haze they both often lie back and, he especially, wonder if they really are achieving the levels of ecstasy listed in the guide books. This is when the fantasies are often born.
Robert has amongst his overcrowded, untidy bookshelf several volumes of the sexual literature of the Orient outlining in great detail some of their sexual practices. I have glanced at them with scepticism and amusement because the emphasis is so much on the woman’s attitude, advising her what she must wear to inspire the man and what she must do. That is all very fine in a harem where both competition and idleness gives the woman plenty of opportunity to consider the sexual conquest, but this doesn’t suit a modern Western society.
I can’t help thinking, though, that really sex and sex fantasy haven’t changed that much in a thousand years. This thought comes as I am wrestling with my rubber suit, shaking my feet into the long boots and trying to find a pair of rubber gloves. I think of the Hindu Helen one thousand five hundred years ago, dressed in her provocative gown, and wonder if women then objected to ‘dressing for pleasure’ as they seem to do now?
Looking at my own favourite country, Israel, where the women are totally liberated, and what is happening in Iran where the chador is back along with the Islamic laws of male domination, I can’t help but reflect how male sexual attitudes have prevailed despite the evidence and all the benefits (so called) of modern psychology and marriage guidance.
Speaking of revolutions, what about this latest one from California where celibacy is ‘in’? The latest of the American best sellers is a book singing the joys of not having sex. The New Celibacy is written by Gabrielle Brown, a Californian psychologist in her late twenties and she suggests for many people that sex has become just about as exciting as football after a long season and the Wembley Cup Final. “To much of a good thing has simply reduced its charm.”
According to this book, which comes from California where traditionally the new trends are set, celibacy offers an alternative approach to love and loving by allowing sexuality to take a rest. “Turning off the sexual stereo – perhaps only for a week or so – one may discover a whole new dimension of feelings and intimacy and fullness of love”. Yes, a lot of truth in that.
At the same time, the American magazine, Cosmopolitan, did a survey of 106,000 of its readers and found that almost 90% of them thoroughly enjoyed sex and wished they had more of it.
Dressed for pleasure and enjoying the effect, I satisfy myself with the thought that when you get right down to it all that really matters is the old magic – love. Women will do anything, wear anything, say anything for love. Men though – and here I mean particularly English men – are just not demonstrative. Even Robert has to be inspired but that isn’t difficult with the ‘aids’ we have. I do know that what I do is for love, but how many women can be sure, as he unwraps a rubber suit in heavy latex for her to wear, that he feels the same, and his choice of garment is simply his curious way of demonstrating the fact?
A Helen in a harem would not mind what she wears, but a Helen in Surbiton would be worried what her friends might think, if her parents would approve and about the children possibly seeing her.
The chemistry of love is all a bubbling vessel that needs constant topping up. My friend with the super home and swimming pool was probably far too busy to say ‘I do love you’ – and to mean it. She failed to understand (as mentioned in the editorial) that all nature is in the process of change and development and that nothing is permanent. She also probably forgot, too, that variety is the spice of life – and sex.
If there is Sexual Understanding from early on in the relationship, there should be no difficulty in introducing even the wilder dreams of bondage and restriction into the relationship. Once S.U. is established, a couple – and I mean she as well as he – will be inspired from time to time to experiment. Her rationale will be (1) love, (2) to please him, (3) to assuage her curiosity and, I suppose, her passions. The benefit, I would add, is to all concerned.
“There are”, says the Kama Sutra, “nine kinds of sexual intercourse … as a dough is prepared for baking, so must a woman be prepared for sexual intercourse if she is to derive satisfaction from it … men should use such means that they think suitable for the occasion … a man should marry such a woman as will love him for ever afterwards.”
Boots, says Alex Comfort in The Joys of Sex are a notorious sex turn-on for many people – the longer the better. “They are,” he goes on, “good for dressing up games … not very practical for serious sex unless you keep them for non-horizontal non-bed activities”.
Yes, I go along with that, but best of all they are practical and smart, and this year, where somehow summer became a victim of the national economy cuts and was declared redundant, I wore mine with hardly a break. My feet and legs so rarely see the daylight that when they do they become quite embarrassed.
The fashion writers though say that boots are out of date this season, but they are not quite sure about the alternative, although some have come up with the idea of thick, woolly stockings. Ugh! Even though boots are not now within everyone’s price range, if you buy a good pair and take care of them, they will last you for years and years. My collection is now about 24 pairs (some getting really old) including two new pairs which have just been purchased from Atomage one in patent and one in calf, to replace two pairs that have had steady wear over five long years. By the time you read this we shall be in the depth of winter (again ugh!), so I just hope you have ordered yours from Atomage in time.
John Sutcliffe really has a very gifted bootmaker who makes exactly to your personal measurements and when you have worn a pair you will realise there is nothing to match the custom made boot. Boots can really look exotic and erotic – I was called from typing this column to the TV to see the Nolan Sisters’ singing group (Shirley Bassey Show, October 6th). All four were dressed in black with thigh high boots! I don’t think Robert noticed the song!
My boot collection though is being seriously threatened and rivalled by Mrs. ACS587 who now tells me that she has thirty pairs which she wears in all weathers! This is the time to ask him – his eyes still glazed from watching the Nolan Sisters.. .’Robert, darling … ?!?