In my book Crisis? What Crisis? Britain in the 1970s I make reference to Forum magazine, which ‘acquired a reputation for the exploration of practices hitherto neglected in mainstream publishing … seemingly in the spirit of running fetishes up flagpoles, hoping that the odd reader or two might salute’. And I cited a couple of examples from the letters pages of a 1970 edition.
I’ve had some discussion recently about this (you know who you are), in response to which I’m posting here the original letters from which I was quoting. For the historical record, you understand…
Your readers’ mention of the attaching of rings to their persons encourages me to ask if any of your male readers has used the small cat-collar bell in a similar way.
My seven friends and I have followed this practice for some little time, having originally chosen with great care the quality and tone of the bells.
Apart from the personal pleasure we enjoy, there is the aural pleasure we can share with others.
Our most recent achievement occurred last week in the men’s lavatory at Victoria Station when the eight of us, before adjusting our dress, played ‘Bells Across the Water’, much to the enjoyment, if not edification, of many onlookers. The applause occasioned by this rendering encouraged us to attempt, with a notable measure of success, Schillenberg’s mediaeval ‘Aquascutum in Plasticus’.
I would mention that we are available at a small charge for parties, picnics and. of course, balls.
I read with great interest your correspondence on fish fetishism. My wife and I are ‘turned on’ by steak. On special occasions – when we both desire a variation – I purchase two pounds of rump steak. This we beat well with garlic and herbs and take up to bed with us. There must be fresh linen on the bed and my wife wears a Victorian nightdress that covers her body completely. Then we place the fillets of steak all over her quim and secure them fast with a pair of pink rubber pants with a large enough hole cut in the crotch.
Then I strive to get into her. I prolong getting through the steak for as long as my wife can bear it. The longest it has taken has been an hour and by that time we were in a frenzy!
Before we reach our climax I withdraw from her to ejaculate onto the steak. We then pull the steak to pieces in a wild sexual frenzy and feed each other with it.
It’s marvellous – an absolute scene of carnage at the end. No harm done, lots of fun and at the same time, very nourishing.
What marriages need today is more imagination and less television watching.
Always searching for new ways to give my husband extra sexual pleasure, a few weeks ago I bought a jar of honey and smeared some on to my breasts before going to bed. My husband happens to love honey – and couldn’t have been more delighted with the sexy dessert I offered him.
Needless to say a couple of jars are now on my weekly shopping list.
Mrs JP, Suffolk
No man likes the thought that the mini-skirt will soon vanish. Of all the fashions I have seen in fifty years, it has been the most wonderful of them all.
Yet, if designers will concern themselves with the following suggestion, we men can continue to be satisfied: let them design a skirt which separates the female bottom from being one solid rounded mass into two delectable halves, each half making its own individual movements.
Is there a man who doesn’t enjoy the swaying bottom of a girl who knows how to walk well? Imagine, then, the upward tilt of one half as the other descends being added to the sideways swing of a plump undercarriage!
Mine is a somewhat unusual, no, seen objectively, a humorous case. I am sexually attracted by our vacuum cleaner.
I can clearly remember the event which made me this way. Until I married and left home, my parents were very careful to avoid all mention of sex or of sexual feelings. However, when I was 12 and a half, my mother and I were playing a game of ‘Tag’ as she was doing the house-work. She would tag me ‘it’ with the end of the vacuum cleaner tube as it extended her reach. Inadvertently she made contact with my genitals and the combination of the suction and the probing gave me an immediate erection – my first ‘real’ erection. I broke off the game at once and went to my room to try and figure out the meaning of this new feeling by myself (as I have said, asking my mother for an explanation would be unthinkable). Thereafter, I regarded the vacuum cleaner with ambivalence, but my sexual fantasies always involved beautiful girls violating me with a vacuum cleaner hose. Finally Mother got a new vacuum cleaner and the whole affair was put out of my mind for a few years.
A month or so after my marriage, however, I was passing a second-hand electrical shop which had on display in the window the same model and colour vacuum cleaner that my mother had. My reaction was immediate and profound – a full erection and a tremendous erotic feeling. I went inside and purchased it and brought it home to my wife as a late ‘flat warming’ present.
In the intervening six years I have managed to work the vacuum cleaner into our foreplay. We caress each other with various attachments – the most effective being the dusting brush. Once my wife even consented to put the hose (the cleaner was turned on at the time) over my erect penis. All of this, however, was introduced gradually, and my wife does not suspect the extent of my real intentions regarding the vacuum cleaner. Often, when she is out of the house, I masturbate using the vacuum cleaner hose with the cleaner turned on.
This could probably go on for quite some time, except that during the past six years I have moved up financially and now my wife is beginning to pressure me for a newer model.
This brings me to my problem – I am not sure whether I am strong enough emotionally to part company with ‘old faithful’, and I know that only a vacuum cleaner of that type (the old cylinder type) can satisfy me. I cannot hold out against my wife’s requests much longer as I am running out of excuses. Can you suggest anything to help me get over this?