A Cyclone of Sexual Prowess
A Cyclone of SexualProwess
Sound, Responsible Sexual Advice
By Irving J. Silvertoad
I have noticed that on these hallowed pages they allow a sex advice column. I further have noticed that it is by a woman. Now, as a man of the world I have had sexual relations with a number of women and have more knowledge about their workings than any woman possibly could have about herself, much less about the desires of a man such as myself. Indeed, how could a woman who has been with only one man (her husband) know more about sex than I?
Thus, I will now regale you with all you need to know about that sacred thing I like to call ‘Connubial Bliss.’ I first wrote this piece in 1909 for a men’s journal called The Lion’s Roar and reprint it here with my own permission and would be more worried about it going public but have been made to understand that not only has the literacy of women increased, but it is also now fairly well accepted that they can read whatever their father or husband chooses for them. Thus, I leave it to those gentlemen’s good discretion.
Victory in the Bedroom Battle
Firstly, the anatomy of a woman is a terrifying jungle of a thing. The Conradian mess it presents is a mystery even to the most knowledgeable of doctors. A man’s uncircumcised member is uniquely capable of negotiating its treacherous recesses. The foreskin acts as an acute helmet guarding against the foul mists that are emitted by women. This natural god-given protection granted to all Christian men is something that Heathen men will never understand and is believed to be a large contributor to their various ailments.
Jews, for instance, are unable to please women in any way and cannot even enter their wives without artificial protection. I happen to know for a fact from thorough research and interviewing that robbie bowman has never pleased a woman sexually. Though this could also be, in part, because a woman foolish enough to be bedded by him may, on close examination, be a corpse. He is not alone, however. No Jew can release seed into a woman without his own roger withering and falling off. As a result, Jewish children are all created through various forms of witchcraft and black majik.
The intricacies of a woman’s nethers are dangerous not only to a man’s noble stallion. I used to know of a fellow who dared to put his face near that area and the mysteries and poisons therein robbed him of his youth, his vigor, and his native intelligence. He turned into a blithering idiot in no time. But what about relations purely for enjoyment and not for the creation of children?
I cannot speak harshly enough against such an endeavour but if a man insists, there are ways to achieve the joy of release without risking rumors surfacing years later that he contributed to a bastard. The French, a filthy people, are so degenerate they have devised something of a stocking for the man’s glorious apparatus. The finer ones are made of lamb’s skin and there are courser ones made of sausage casings. However, for men of a pedigree as refined as my own I have found a man who will supply me with ones made from the foreskins of orphans and then lovingly stitched together with spidersilk. While the cost is prohibitive, I can recommend them heartily. I was given a gift of them once from George Bernard Shaw who discovered them while researching a play he intends to title Pygmalion. He said that it was the only way to explore the various models for the guttersnipe in his play. He also showed me how to properly clean and store them so that they can be used multiple times and how to lotion them to keep from drying up. I keep mine in a bag of oilcloth after the cleanings and that seems very effective.
Now that many of our precautions are out of the way, perhaps we can discuss how to do this thing properly. First of all, there is nary an incorrect way. If a man is able to disperse his essence then the exercise has been a success.
If the woman’s passages should be dry and difficult to traverse, a quick trip to the kitchen can remedy the situation. A handful of drippings will loosen things considerably and leave a pleasant bacony scent. As far as various postures are concerned, find one that minimizes the workload while allowing a rhythm that will suit you, the man. But how?
How indeed. I have found that humming a John Philip Sousa tune is extremely helpful. I am a wonderful mimic and I like to trumpet and drum terrifically with my mouth as I thrust into my lady, thus providing a stirring performance and some marvelous entertainment as well. I understand a certain circle of ladies has circulated a nickname for me of TheHummer, something in which I take a large amount of pride and I am pleased knowing that any time you hear of a Hummer, you will think of me.
I have been asked before for advice on how to tell when a woman is enjoying the sexual experience and I cannot stress this single notion enough: Who cares?
While this may seem like an entirely cruel response, it is the result of a single fact. I have been with many women and each and every one of them seemed bored and uninterested each time and yet, at the end of our encounters, each and every one of those bored and uninterested seeming girls assured me that it was, in fact, quite good or very nice.
If all these things are not enoughto stimulate a man to triumph, allow me to suggest that you indulge yourself into fantasy. In your mind there can be any scenario you like and if this helps you to find pleasure, who is anyone to judge it? Even so, it may be best to keep such stories to yourself. Oscar Wilde told me of some stories that were outrageous and was so lost in these fantasies he seemed to believe they had actually taken place. Which is preposterous. I can’t think of a handsomer, more debonair man and surely such a fellow is a ladykiller.
I earlier labeled all of this as an exercise. I must clear up in concluding that a man of taste must avoid exercise at all cost. Gratuitous expenditures of energy will result in a man losing weight and showing the muscles and sinew and veins at work under the skin. They may even seem to grow and swell. This disgusting and vulgar display is loathsome to all, particularly women. After all, we all admire success and what better show is there of success and good health than a lovely, round cherubic man with a fine softness. I myself have been eating non-stop for two weeks after an illness left me looking unwell with various muscles emerging. My body could handle no more than lean meats and green vegetables and it left me looking like a common laborer who digs ditches during his days. Health and fitness belong in another column, perhaps, but all things are connected.
In closing, I suggest you get out right away and begin your new confidence by reading this column six or seven more times until you have it nearly memorized. The printers have been given explicit instruction which, if they follow, will allow the eagle eyed man to see drawn in the pattern of vowels on these pages, a diagram of various methods and techniques which are unsuitable for spoken language. Best of luck.
Note: This being a reprint, the diagrams were unable to be reproduced. Apologies.-ed.