Some Tips On How,/To End A Relationship Are You Tao Jéalous/To Swing? Some Not-So- Motherly Advice From Uschi Digard os SEPTEMBER, 1979 $2.25 WE 49030 Siew Cae Cups Covergirl Margret, p.45 More of June Williams, p-7 If coupon is missing, send order to: Sensory Research Corp., 2424 Mortis Ave. Union, N.J. 07083 TRY GETTING IT ON SEXUALLY This amazing offer isn’t a shameless come-on, It’s your opportunity fo get a remarkable. new. exciting fact- and-photo-filled book, GETTING IT ON SEX- UALLY...plus a unique free bonus: a 3313 RPM recording of men and women talking about—and actually doing —such things as foreplay...getting aroused ...mak- ing up fantasies...oral and anal sex masturbation ...using vibrators and other “sex toys”...and much, much more! This free record is one you'll want fo play again and again by yourself or share with special friends —and it’s yours FREE, yours to keep, when you try GETTING IT ON SEXUALLY at no risk for 10 days! The book lovers need. 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Date 1979 Sensory Research Cop pea Gen VOLUME 20 SEPTEMBER, 1979 NUMBER 8 JUNE 40-26-35 RITA 46-26-39 NILIA 44-24-35 MARGRET 42-25-38 Our second layouton A skinny-dip in Forty-four inches It was destiny — in June Williams—the the RioGrande with of Nilia’s her third appearance, girl with the a beautiful buxom classically-sculpted | Margret ends up our “Bright Eyes.” p.7 senorita. p-16 breasts. p- 30 centerfold. p. 45 3 THE MAIL SLOT / Letters to GENT 42 THE GOODBAR SYNDROME / Article by Margery Mina & Michael Hill 5 FANTASY LAND / Our Readers’ Fantasies 57 VISIT TO MAMMARY LANE / Pictorial 10 ASK USCHI/ Column by Uschi Digard 60 BRUISED BUT BEAUTIFUL / Pictorial 14 LIBATIONS / Article by Dennis O. Weber 66 CABIN FEVER / Fiction by Budd Vanzant 20 HOWTO BREAKUP... / Article by Kay Marie McPherson 68 BIG DISCOVERY / Pictorial 24 RACHEL’S RETURN / Pictorial 77 CRUNPS / Illustrations by Otis Sweat 28 HER FIRST SHAVE / Pictorial 83 MY FIRST SWING/A Report by James Williams 36 THE CARNAL THERAPIST / Fiction by Ed Modzelewski 91 SMILEY & THE LESBIANS and FROG CITY SINNERS / Text and Illustrations by 39 JANICE: A SNEAK PREVIEW / Pictorial Otis Sweat Douglas Allen, Publisher — John Fox, Editor — John David Hawver, Art Director GENT (USPS 472-510) is published monthly by Dugent Publishing Corp., 316 Aragon Ave., Suite 209, Coral Gables FL 33134. Vol. 20, No. 8, September, 1979. Second class postage paid at Miami, Fla. and at additional mailing offices. Copyright © 1979 by Dugent Publishing Corp. Reprinting in whole or part forbidden except by permission of the Publisher. Executive offices and office of publication 316 Aragon Ave., Suite 209, Coral Gables FL 33134. Price, $2.25 per copy. (International edition, $2.50.) SUBSCRIPTIONS: $24.00 per year in U.S.A. and possessions; $27.00 per year in Canada; all other countries, $30.00. Foreign subscriptions and sales should be remitted by International Money Order in U.S. funds payable at Mount Morris, IL. Subscriptions, change of address, Form 3579, to Subscription Dept., Box 31, Mount Morris IL 61054. Any similarity between people and places in the fiction and semi-fiction in this magazine and any real people and places is purely coincidental. Printedin U.S.A. CREDITS: Front Cover and pp. 45-53, Caesar Guest; pp. 2, 68-71, Howard Roark; pp. 7-9, 30-35, Quark Graphics, Inc.; pp. 10, 16-19, 20, 24-27, R.D.R. Productions, Inc.; pp. 28-29, James Hamilton Photography; pp. 39-41, Quark Enterprises; pp. 42-43, Spotlight International; pp. 60-65, Jerome Bischoff. Gent 1 We’re More Than A Pretty Face I You see, our models aren't stuck-up, high-fashion bitches. And we don't feature | 18-year-old chicks with bony butts, either. Our gals are well-stacked ladies who are content just filling out their jeans. Sound like the kind of woman you're looking for? Look for us on the newsstand or subscribe by sending your check or money order to Gent Subscriptions, Box 31, Mt. Morris, IL 61054. Our rates for 12 issues: $24.00 in the U.S.; $27.00 in Canada; $30.00 elsewhere. Street Address City, State, Zip I I Name I 1 The Mai REQUEST LINE Dear Gent: May I say continued success to you in your publication of GENT, a godsend to a big bosom lover like myself. I would like to see more features on the follow- ing beauties: Dorothy, Trixie, Olga, JUNE: see page 7 Dolly, Elaine, Loreen, June Williams and the newcomer Delilah! Of course I can never see enough of my all-time favorites Clyda, Yum Yum, Roberta Pedon, Janette Jordan and the fabulous and huge black beauty May Lou and I look forward to the next feature on the one and only Candy Samples and hope- fully Uschi Digard. Once again, continued success and progress with GENT. May you and your beautiful models be even bigger and better in the future for the pleasure of your greatest fans — US, the lovers of the big breasts!—E.C., Canada. Dear E.C.: Thanks for the kind words, and we'll try to oblige you with some more layouts on your favorite models. We’ ve got a layout on June Will- iams beginning on page 7 and in an upcoming issue we're planning a great pictorial of Clyda along with another attractive D-Cupper. Look for it! A REAL MORALE BOOSTER Dear Gent: Tam writing as the agent for my pla- toon, 2nd Platoon, A Troop, 1-4Cavalry of Fort Riley Kansas 66442. We have here a real morale problem; nothing like the morale problem we were supposed to have in Europe, where I have been for the past four years. We, the NCOs, have instituted sev- eral programs of incentive, but they don’t seem to be enough. To boost morale we have also begun a custom that we had in Europe and a custom that all soldiers have followed since photo- graphs were invented. From your magazine we selected five ROBERTA PEDON: for the boys of the 2nd platoon (Shot =a girls to be voted on as the platoon poster “pinup.” Of the five the men chose a very sharp young woman called, as we can tell, several names — Jolly Piper, Melody O’Hare, Cherry and Cindy. Enclosed is a picture to help you. We are asking GENT to put us in contact with this girl or her agent or manager or pho- tographer or anybody who can help us. Our idea is to do this each year, such as many other magazines pick a woman of the year. We will secure photos of our pinup for wall lockers, vehicles, etc. If posters and films are available we will also secure these. The men thought it a very good idea, and we hope you will assist us. From all 37 of us, we say thanks.—SSgt. A. Smith, Kansas. Dear SSgt. Smith: We sent you the info requested and hope things are proceed- ing. We've always known this gal as Roberta Pedon and, as we've reported before, the last we heard she had re- turned to her native Italy. But one never knows, do one? MAYA SINGH Dear Gent: My buddy just unloaded a bunch of GENT magazines on me the other day. Most are recent issues ("78 and *79), but one in particular — June 77 — is the one I really happen to like, because in this issue you featured a pictorial on Maya Singh — Pharaoh Tale — on pages 4-9. I would like to know if she has appeared in any other issues of your magazine, and if I could order copies from you. Maya has to be one of the most beautiful models I have ever seen. I would like to see her in other poses and settings. The photos in the June issue are some of the best I've ever seen. I hope you can let me know about obtain- ing more information and photos of this lovely model. I would like to become a photogra- pher of beautiful women myself, and am thinking of enrolling in photography classes for a degree in this field. I am 27-years-old. This is not a quack letter, please. —G.J., Ohio. Dear G.J.: Maya appeared in our December 1976 issue also, but —as is the case with most back issues —we' re com- pletely sold out. Maya was an outstand- The Mail Slot _ i! MAYA SINGH: an exotic princess ing model but she has been out of the business for a number of years. The only material available is older photography but we guess you can't get too much of a good thing and we' ll pencil Maya in for a future issue. A HOST OF FAVORITES Dear Gent: Just a letter to let you know how much I enjoy GENT! One of the few things that you could do to improve your mag- azine you have already done — gone to monthly publication. Now all we need is more pictures of the best looking women to appear in men’s magazines. I have been a GENT subscriber for about six months now, and each issue is eagerly awaited. Some of the ladies I have especially liked are Dorothy in the December *78 issue. Dorothy also ap- pears in the May °79 issue and looks 4 even more desirable. Will we get to see more of Pia (December 78)? She is re- ally something. Another one from the December '78 issue to make another appearance (March *79) is Doris — what a great figure! December’s cen- terfold Barbie is quite an eyeful too. February °79 brought Callie — wow! And the pictorial Being Frank, when will we see that long-haired lady again? Centerfold Marylou was the standout in March ‘79. Another bonanza issue was April °79. With women like Vicki, a most beautiful blonde, Margaret (why not more redheads?), Beverlee and Brigitte, your magazine is tops. GENT is about the only magazine to feature WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT? Send your letters to The Mail Slot, Gent Magazine, 316 Aragon Ave., Suite 209, Coral Gables, FL 33134. beautiful women regardless of color. Delilah in the March and May ’79 is- sues is one,fine example. Like Dorothy, Delilah seems more at ease with the GENT readers the second time around. I am glad to see you bringing back some of the lovelies from a couple of years ago, like Mary Ann in the May ‘79 issue. I am looking forward to the June "79 issue with Candy Samples coming back (and from the advance photos, it looks like she has had her face made younger to match that great body) and Roxanne. Keep up the good work!—M.H., Indiana. USCHI, CANDY & BRIGHT EYES Dear Gent: T have bought GENT magazine for better than two years now, and I have to admit that I’m in love with two women you have had in your magazines many times. They are Uschi Digard and Candy Samples. Up until last month it was just those two, but now I have a third one — Bright Eyes. What I would like to know is how old they are and how I can meet them. I just love women with big tits.— A.R., Michigan. Dear A.R.: June Williams readily ad- mits to being twenty. Uschi and Candy said it was a stupid question and none of your business. As far as how to meet the ladies, you might try moving to Southern California because that's where all three gals are currently residing. After that, use your smarts and pray a lot. G CANDY: “It’s none of your business!” Fantasy Land Waitress With The Engorged Jugs “This guy turns me on so much, my face is flushed, my legs are weak, and my breasts are already an inch fuller. DEAR GENT: I’m a woman in my late twenties who happens to have large, full breasts and frankly, I’m glad. I love having beauti- ful breasts and I love showing them off. I'm really proud of my body. I don’t care if women think I’m vain or defeating the women’s lib movement for feeling this way. Maybe they would feel this way too if they had what I have. I like to think about my breasts. In fact, I even have fantasies about them. The one I like the best is where my breasts keep growing larger and larger. It may sound like a man’s kind of fantasy, but I'm the one who’s having it and believe me, there’s no question that I’m a woman. All 41 inches of me! My fantasy takes place in the restaurant where I work as a waitress. It happens at the end of the night when the place is starting to thin out. The owner has dimmed the lights and the piano player is doing slow tunes. Men have been paying attention to me all night, making me feel unusually horny. But no one has turned me on yet. Then this handsome young man sits at one of my tables in the corner. He’s near one of these sprawling rubber plants and is hidden slightly from the main floor, He has a sexy look about him. Black hair with tight waves, piercing dark brown eyes, and a full, expressive mouth. As I said before, when I get horny my breasts begin to grow larger. This guy turns me on so much, my face is flushed, my legs are weak, and my breasts are already an inch fuller. I wait on him, getting his drink order, trying not to look at him. When I return with his martini and place it on the table, he gives me one of those erotic smiles like he’s trying to tell me something. I can feel my breasts increase in size again. He notices and looks more closely. I don’t know what to say to him. I just smile. I can feel my breasts getting so full, they're pushing against each other inside my bra. They are beginning to puff out from the top of my uniform and jiggle as I move. I hurry off to the ladies room to have a look at myself. Standing in front of the mirror, I can clearly see I’m two or three inches larger than normal. My profile looks like Jane Mansfield and I know that’s only the beginning. But I’m enjoying it and I saunter back to his table, swaying my shoulders a little. When I ask him if he cares to order, he tells me. “I'd like some of you.” His lips stay together as he smiles. I wink at him, teasing him, but I’m almost ready to take off my clothes right then. I just smile back at him. “J tell you what.” he suggests. “I'll order the spaghetti if you'll sit down and join me.” “But I can’t,” I say. “I have to work.” My face reddens again as he looks at me, his eyes traveling down my body and riveting on my growing breasts. They’re so full now that they’re pushing open the front of my wrap around uniform. Every movement makes them quiver like a huge water bed. He reaches toward me, touching my waist and that sends such shivers through me that my breasts grow again. Now they’re so large that they’re starting to get in my way. He rubs Gent his arm against them and pulls me onto his lap. As I sit, my breasts bounce up and down, landing on his arm. “T really should get back to work,” I say, looking into his gorgeous dark eyes.. He just shakes his head and kisses me. That does it for sure. Now my breasts are so huge that my uniform is literally open in front. These massive hanging breasts are falling out like soft rising dough in an oven. They squash up against his chest. He leans back and touches them, trying to cup them, but his hand covers only a small area. He goes crazy rubbing his hand over the breasts. The bottom, the sides, squeezing them, pushing them up and watching them flop back down. Since my uniform is hanging open, I push it off my shoulders. We both look at all this flesh falling out of my bra. Then he reaches in back of me and unhooks it. My breasts go tumbling into my lap. I can see the nipples practically resting on my knees. This guy goes crazier yet when he sees this. He pulls the breasts up to his mouth. It’s not easy because they're pretty heavy now, but he manages to get the nipples in his hands and he brings them to his tongue. Because my breasts are more sensitive when they’ ve grown to this size, his flicking tongue feels like the tongue of an enormous serpent. Soft, smooth tongue seems to be everywhere. He licks, then lightly bites the tip of the nipple. When he puts one of the nipples in his mouth and starts to suck on it, I go wild. I start moaning and straddle his lap. I can feel his erection against my panties. He’s long and thick. All I can think of is getting him inside of me. He's still got my nipple in his mouth as I reach around all the flesh and unzip his pants. I pull out his cock. As I rub my fingers down its length, it begins to grow in my hand, getting longer and thicker. I’m so hot. I’m out of control. Thank goodness I wear small delicate panties because I’m too excited to stand up and take them off. I just rip open the side and guide his cock up to me. It’s still growing. His cock is getting tangled in my breasts. There’s flesh everywhere, but I manage to get him inside of me. He's strong. He thrusts away fast, rubbing his long hose up against my clitoris until I start climbing really fast and come. He continues to thrust, then he takes his cock out and squeezes my breasts all around it. And he thrusts away again, sliding all that cock in between all that breast, until he comes him- self. We sit there for a moment, both of us with mounds and mounds of flesh all around us. Then everything goes back to normal. Before I know what has hit me, my breasts ‘are normal size and his cock is back inside his pants. I get off his lap and go to the kitchen to get his spaghetti. That's where I stop the fantasy. I know it’s a little crazy, but it manages to excite me every time. I hope you decide to print this. It would be a real turn on for me to actually read my fantasy in GENT, the best maga- zine for big breasts around. Believe me, women read your magazine too! “Sally” — Colorado. Fantasy Land Milking Time In The Ladies Dressing Room “With a smile on her face, she unclips the cup of the maternity bra and motions for me to come into the dressing room.” DEAR GENT: I’ve been thinking about sending you my fantasy for a long time, but it wasn’t until I saw your ad in the magazine that I got the nerve to write it down. What prompted my fantasy was the time I went ‘shopping with my wife, Julie. She was trying on bras and I was waiting outside the dressing room for her. She knew the salesclerk was in another cubicle helping an old woman, so Julie thought she'd tease me. She opened the dressing room curtain for a minute and stood there wearing only her blue jeans anda sheer bra. It was such a turn on, I couldn’t believe it. In fact, whenever I want to get off all I have to do is think about that day and I have this fantasy, I'm sitting by the ladies dressing room, waiting for Julie to try on her bras. The salesclerk is near the register and lots of women are milling around. Julie opens the curtain. She’s wearing only her short shorts and a maternity bra. It’s just an ordinary white mater- nity bra, but it tus me,on because I get aroused by the thought of a pregnant woman giving milk. Julie parades around the dressing room, modeling the bra for me and anyone else who cares to look. Then she starts sliding one of the straps off her shoulder. I'm sitting there not believing that my Julie is actually doing this. After one strap is off her shoulder, she turns, looks at me, and winks. With a smile on her face, she unclips the cup of the maternity bra and motions me to come into the dressing room. In a daze, I stand up and walk inside. The salesclerk is frozen, staring at us, and a few older women are standing with their hands to their mouths, gasping in horror. When I get into the dressing room, Julie comes up to me and puts her arms around my neck. She kisses me, using her tongue erotically. I get turned on and feel an erection begin- ning. Julie smiles again and moves me toward the small chair in the Comer. She nudges me to sit down. I sit and she sits on top of me. Placing her arms underneath the cups of the bra, she pushes her breasts up. The pink exposed nipple pops out at me. Then Julie says, “Put it in your mouth.” I look outside for a moment. The people are still staring at us. But my dick is aching and her nipple is up next to my lips. So ignoring the crowd, I lean over and put her nipple in my mouth. Julie moans. and wiggles her fanny on my lap. Then she reaches underneath and rubs my erection. She squeezes and massages it until I can’t stand it. I take my mouth away fora second and say, “Take him out.” Julie unzips my pants and pulls out my cock. She heaves her chest out toward me, telling me to put her nipple back in my mouth. Her warm fingers surround my cock and she rubs up and down over the head with gentle pressure. The more she tubs, the more I suck on her nipple. Suddenly I taste something. I’m not sure what it is at first, then realize that milk is seeping from Julie’s breast. I suck on it. Warm, sweet milk squirts into my mouth. I can hardly believe it. That puts such an ache in my dick that I feel dizzy. Isuck on it again. More milk shoots out. This is too good to be true. I + move away from her nipple and look at it. I squeeze the nipple between my fingers. The very tip is glistening with the whitish liquid. I flick my tongue on the tip of her nipple and taste a drop of her milk. Julie puts more pressure on my cock as she uses longer and more vigorous strokes. I start to climb and put my mouth back on her nipple, sucking in more of the delicate juices. I'm climbing faster and faster. Julie’s milky breasts make me more aroused then I thought possible. She's wiggling on my lap, begging me to touch her be- tween her legs. When I do, I feel how warm she is, almost hot. Just a few strokes of my finger makes her stiffen. Her legs become rigid and she jerks as she has an orgasm. Then her body goes limp. But she hasn’t stopped rubbing my dick. She keeps bringing me up higher and higher. My mouth seems glued to her nipple. I can’t seem to get enough of her sweet milk. It makes me horny. An aching kind of horny. The more I suck on it, the more the ache gnaws at me, until I shoot off. While I come, Julie grabs hold of me tighter and jerks more rapidly. But I don’t let go of her nipple. As my come shoots up to my chest and seeps into my shirt near the buttonhole, I keep sucking on her nipple. But she moves me away, saying, “Please. No more. No more.” We sit there, me with come all over my shirt and her with one cup of the maternity bra hanging open and milk dripping all over it. Then we both burst out laughing. She hugs me and we close the curtain. And it’s funny, but all I can think of is getting hard again. I want to fuck her so bad, I can’t stand it. I know it’s difficult for me to get hard so soon and I ask her to put my dick in her mouth. That always hardens me quickly. She does it so well. When I'm hard, which is only a matter of seconds after her warm lips are on me, I lay her on the floor and fuck her brains out. I feel like a madman, shoving it into her, listening to her grunting, and watching her milky glands bounce on her chest. Then I come again. And it’s so good. When we're finished, I stand up, go back outside, and she gets dressed. Julie comes out of the dressing room, makes a face at all the shocked people, and we leave. That’s usually the end of the fantasy. It never fails to get me off. If you've been thinking about using more bra shots or better yet, some women who are lactating, I hope you decide to put them in soon. I think it’s areal turn on fora lot of guys. I know I'd love to see both. T.C.T.—Virginia. Gent Our mailman is mad at us. For that, we can thank Uschi. And we do mean “thanks.” It seems that after Uschi’s first column appeared last month, alot of you loyal readers out there took pen to paper and fired off a mountain of mail to our favorite sex symbol. Well, the poor mailman has gotten round shouldered from toting the avalanche of missives. Already letters have come in from all 50 states, and Canada. So you can understand why he isn't happy. Or, we should say, wasn’t happy. His mood suddenly brightened. It brightened when we offered him his very own life-size photo of Uschi, fully nude, and autographed. Now when he comes in, he’s not only huffing, but smiling. Just as we are. And should be. After all your response shows us that you're delighted with our newest “staffer,” and when you're happy we're happy. But who wouldn't be, with the sexsational and scintillating Uschi, the most photographed pinup in history. Over the years you've seen her body. Now it's our privilege to let you enjoy — and learn from — her mind as well. Ifyou have any questions —about anything — don't hesitate. She truly wants to share her knowledge. So feel free to share your hopes, thoughts, and dreams (wet, or dry) with her. There's only one Uschi Digard. 10 Gent Dear USCHI: I've had a weight problem for years. I’ve tried all the diets and none of them seem to work. My husband says I've got no willpower. But it’s not that. It’s just hard for me to keep my appetite down. Do you have any ideas that could help me. I’m desperate. I’ve GOT to lose weight. Or I lose Marvin (my husband). Melinda T., Pontiac, Mich. Dear Melinda: There’s a sure fire method that never fails for me. It’s masturbation. After reaching orgasm, you don’t have an appetite. For extra pleasure, put a dab of Ben Gay, the linament, on your clitoris. You'll find it’s warmth highly stimulating, a real turn on. Then use your vibra- tor to climax. You'll have a great time, and lose weight simultaneously. DEAR USCHI: I just heard from a friend that he heard on TV that San Francisco is soliciting fags to become cops? I can’t believe it. But he says they’re having trouble filling the job needs, and since there’s so many fruits in Frisco anyway, they’re now going to use a lot of them to keep the police department fully staffed. Is this true? And if so, what ifI’m stopped for a driving violation some night, and one of these queens in blue wants to frisk me? Nervous Ned, San Jose, Ca. Dear Nervous: It’s true. So kiss him. DEAR USCHI: I'm 62, and I live in a small community. We have a good doctor, but he’s older than me, and sometimes I think the latest medical news doesn’t reach this far. Anyway, I’ve had trouble with impotency lately, and I understand zinc is good for it. My doc isn’t sure, though. Could you check with some of the big city medics for me. Thanks. G.H., Huron, S.D. Dear G.H.: Indeed, zinc is highly recommended for the health of the sexual organs. According to a team of researchers at the Veterans Administration Hospital in Washington, D.C., when daily doses of zinc were given to a number of patients, the men reported an increase in their ability to have erections, a better quality of erections, ejacula- tions, increased frequency of intercourse and a heightened sex drive. Dr. Irving M. Bush, M.D., professor and chairman of urology at the Chicago Medical School has found that many men with prostate problems have low levels of zinc in their prostate. When he treated more than 200 patients with zinc (50 to 150 milligrams a day) for four months — 70 percent found relief! A lack of zinc may not be your problem. But since many men over 60 have trouble with their prostate because of a low level of Z., you might have your doctor look into this. And thanks for the nude Poloroid of yourself. I'll pass it on to my mother. Gent DEAR USCHI: I saw that movie “Shampoo” on TV the other night. They sure cut a lot out of it. I saw it when it first came out in the movie houses, and I was surprised how raun- chy a major film with major stars could be. But why would the folks who made the picture have Julie Christie say to Warren Beaty, “I want to suck your cock”? J.V., Washington, D.C. Dear J.V: According to Bob Towne, the Oscar winner who wrote it: “We knew that line would add ten million dollars at the box office.” DEAR USCHI: My girlfriend is bugged at me. She says I don’t know how to treat a woman. That I’m too much “Bim Bam, Thank You, Ma’m.” Well, what does she expect? This is 1979. Guys don’t write love sonnets these days. And after I get off, what’s the difference if | take a nap? She knows I love her. So staying awake a little longer isn’t going to prove anything. She says that since I don’t believe her that I’m rude and selfish, that maybe I'd listen to you. So, I’m listen- ing. Big Ears, Atlanta, Ga. Dear Big Ears: From the sound of your letter, I’ve got a better name for you: Big Mouth. All women like foreplay. And we also like some attention, and tenderness, after orgasm. Showing care and concern for the other person is never out of fashion. Better wise up, or you’ll be doing the pubic polka with your five fingers. DEAR USCHI: You're really a great looking broad. I know you could have any man you wanted. Who would you rather go to bed with — Robert Redford, Paul Newman, Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, Sean Connery, or Woody Allen? Nosy, Philadelphia, Pa. Dear Nosy: Yes. In that order. But Woody has to promise to take off his glasses. DEAR USCHI: I'm in love with a married woman. I’m single, but I have roommates, so I can’t bring her home. Doing it in the back seat of the car is out of the question, and hotel and motel rates are killing me. There’s got to be a solution. Any suggestions you can come up with will be most appreciated. “Quickies” are bankrupting me. “Gemini,” Bloomington, Ind. Dear “Gemini”: Motel rates shouldn’t be killing you. Aren’t you aware that many motels today, in this liberated age, will charge you a low fee forjust two hours in the room. For instance, one local Hollywood inn gets 32 dollars a night. But if you want the room for just two hours— it’s only eight dollars. Ask Uschi Your area should have similiar accommodations. If not, pick one of the three following: She’Il have to get a divorce; You'll have to get rid of your roommates; or You'll have to get yourself a new girl, one who has her own apartment and doesn’t have a hubby. DEAR USCHI: This whole Lee Marvin situation sucks. If I let adame move in with me now, I’m liable to get crucified. If she filed a lawsuit against me, even if she didn’t win, look at the aggravation it could cost me in time and shyster fees. 2 We can’t live with them. And we can’t live without them. What’s a guy to do? Broken Hearted Ben, Tacoma, Wash. Dear Broken: Either get the lady to sign an agreement, before she moves in. Or, get a parking meter. And when she visits, and the two hours are up, eject her. Seriously, the Marvin case has chilled many a live-in romance. Thus, most hip couples today are drawing up living-together contracts. The contracts spell out what belongs to each, dnd what is expected in case they break up. Such a practical approach may not inspire poets, but it will prevent a lot of fighting and bitterness at parting. It'll also keep the hands of lawyers out of your pock- ets, your wallets, and your bank accounts. And that isn’t all bad. DEAR USCHI: I think my grandfather is fooling around with a high school girl. My God, he’s 79, and she’s 17. What should Ido? Concerned, Buffalo, N.Y. Dear Concerned: Applaud! DEAR USCHI: For two and a half years I’ve been going with a charming woman, who also happens to be a physician. In fact, she’s my doctor, too. I’m in my late 40s, and have had a few health problems in the past — high blood pressure, hemorrhoids, irregular heart beat, etc. —so she’s kind enough to give me frequent physicals (and without charge, I might add). As part of the exam, though, she always insists on inserting her finger in my rectum. Now I know that’s not unusual, except the time she devotes to it is much longer than one would expect; in fact, a great deal longer than I’ve ever experienced before. Not that it’s unpleasant. It isn’t. Actually, it’s delightful. A real kick. But I’m wondering — is she kinky? A.L., Phoenix, Ariz. Dear A.L.: Only if she isn’t wearing a glove. 2 DEAR USCHI: I have no one else to turn to on this but you. I’m so ashamed. My husband has slept once with another woman. The reason I can’t discuss this with anyone else is because the woman is a pig — a real slut. She’s one of those tramps who hangs around in bars and is the neighborhood punch. What's so embarrassing, too, is that she’s not even pretty. She’s got a face like a crushed muffin, and she dresses like a cheap whore, all flash with her skirt slit from here to inner Mongolia, and her floppy tits practi- cally falling out. How he could shame me with a piece of shit like her I just don’t understand. An attractive woman, okay. I wouldn’t like it, but I could at least figure out the attraction. If | caught him fucking Farrah Fawcett or Raquel or You — I could understand it. You're all beautiful. I mean I’m not even dikey, not even a little bit, and find the three of you stunning. And if I were into pussy eating, which I'm not, I'd eat all three of you myself. But what’s he doing with a scumbag like the local tramp? If anyone around here finds out I'll be a laughingstock. I want to kill the bastard, or divorce him, or castrate him or something. But I love him and I’m all confused and hurt. What should I do? Everything else has been fine till now. What should I do? Tormented, Honolulu, Hawaii. Dear T.: This is going to be hard advice to take. But believe me, it’s the best advice: Don’t let this one indiscretion — no matter how much it hurts you— destroy what has been a very good relationship. He strayed, and he probably regrets it. Talk it over with him — but don’t chastise him, or condemn him. When a man has done something wrong, he knows it. It’s doubtful his fling with the floozy was anything more than that, just casual sex— a lot of exercise, with little meaning. Your pride is hurt, certainly. And with good reason. But don’t let it break up your marriage, especially since— except for this one incident— you seem to have a good, sound one. So use your head, not your heart. The wound will heal. And your marriage may become stronger from the trial it’s going through now. DEAR USCHI: My girlfriend and I like to take pictures. You know the kind I mean. Ofus. Getting it on. We either use a mirror. Or I put the camera on a self-timer. I want to get some gorgeous slides, and I know that Kodachrome makes the prettiest. But will Kodak give me the photos once they’ve Gent Ask Uschi processed the film and see what we’re doing? Shutterbug, Shaker Heights, Ohio. Dear Shutter: No. Kodak will not return the pictures to you. Your best bet, though, if you insist on slides, is to use Ektachrome that you can process yourself. Or, if there’s a local lab you trust, they’Il do it for you. My lab friends tell me that a lot of people today are shooting “do-it-yourself-porn.” When they’re old and gray, they say, they want to be able to see their memo- ries in their scrapbook. DEAR USCHI: My boss has invited me to go away to Vegas with him for the weekend. We've never messed around, although he’s taken me to lunch a couple of times, and he says he won't try on the trip either. We'll be sharing the same room, though. That’s be- cause it’s cheaper that way, he says. And the money saved on that will just go to us for spending on more shows. But he promises he won't try to get in my pants. We'll sleep in the same bed, but he swears on his mother’s picture that he won’t try to slip it in me at three or four Libations in the morning when I’m zonked or anything like that. Should I believe him? D.M., Kansas City, Mo. Dear D.M.: Sure. dust like you believe in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. The three biggest lies are: (1) “The check is in the mail”; (2) “I'll pay you back on Friday”; and (3), “Come on, honey. Just let me put the head in.” To those we might as well add a fourth fabulous fib— the one we tell ourselves. Now you know you've already made up your mind to go. And you know you’ ve already made up your mind that you’ re going to have sex with him. You just want me to give you permission, so that you won't feel responsible. Well, since you’ve already made up your mind ... Bon Voyage! And see you all next month. G YOUR LETTERS Send them to: ASK USCHI, Gent Magazine, 316 Aragon Avenue, Suite 209, Coral Gables, Florida 33134. Liqueurs: ending a meal with good taste An astounding array of colors, tastes and textures. BY DENNIS O. WEBER E .cyone knows what liqueurs are. They’ re those sweet, dainty little drinks that come in weirdly shaped bottles and little old blue-haired ladies drink them in the afternoon while they watch the soap operas. Well, if this is your concep- tion of what liqueurs are all about, then perhaps it is time you learned the facts. Yes, Virginia, liqueurs are sweet and they do often come in bottles that could only be described as weird, but they also come in an astounding array of colors, tastes and textures. A connois- Gent seur of liqueurs remains forever un- jaded. The word “liqueur” is actually the French equivalent of the English word “liquor” and today it has come to mean any heavy-bodied drink that has been flavored and sweetened. Most liqueurs are made by adding flavorings, such as herbs and spices, to a spirit, such as brandy or grain alcohol. This whole concoction is then sweetened with a sugar syrup to make it palatable. With- out the added sweetness, many liqueurs would be simply undrinkable. Liqueurs are perfect as after dinner drinks because their sweetness tends to finish off a meal, much as an ordinary dessert does. However, some of the bolder and more flavorful liqueurs, par- ticularly those with heavy liquor bases such as Irish Mist or Drambuie, can be used before dinner as well, although some people might be put off by having a sweet drink before dinner. Compared to the older beverages in the world, such as beer or wine, liqueurs are real youngsters. They evolved at roughly the same time as gin and brandy, or to be absolutely impre- cise, several hundred years ago. Many liqueurs came into being because the distilled liquors of the time, such as the first crude brandies and gins, were so vile tasting that it was necessary to cover up their flavor with a lot of herbs. Sweetening was the next logical step for 13 Libations a vast market of people that craved sweets of any kind. Out of this confus- ing batch of nearly undrinkables emerged such delightful separate drinks as gin, Cognac and liqueurs, all of which had a more or less common ori- in. The oldest liqueur that has survived in relatively the same form is Benedic- tine, which was probably invented sometime around 1510 by a Dominican Friar named Dom Bernardo Vincelli. It is possible, even today, to visit the an- cient abbey at Fecamp in France, on the Normandy coast, where the liqueur is still made according to a centuries old recipe. Benedictine contains a distilla- tion of Cognac and at least 75 different herbs, spices and flowers. The exact formula is a closely guarded secret. Most liqueurs are made from some sort of a secret formula, often handed down from generation to generation in the founding family. This not only pro- tects the product from rushless competi- tors, but italso makes good advertising copy, as everyone is intrigued by a se- cret formula. Following is a list of the more com- mon liqueurs to be found on today’s liquor shelves. Naturally, this list is in- complete, as there are literally hun- dreds of liqueurs made around the world and every country seems to have its own favorites. Adyocaat: The original came from Holland and the best still comes from there. Made with brandy, eggs and sugar, this liqueur tastes quite a bit like eggnog. Amaretto: A very sweet, smooth liqueur supposedly made from al- monds, but with a surprising hint of the taste of apricots in it. Anisette: A French liqueur made from anise seeds. It is very unusual in flavor and is often used in mixed drinks. Apricot liqueur: There must be at least two dozen different brands of these, all of them tasting more or less the same, like apricots. Aquavit: This is a Danish drink, well known for its potency. Made from Kimmel, it is flavored with caraway seeds. Blackberry liqueur: Just what it sounds like. It tastes like blackberries. Cassis: This luscious liqueur is made from the black currant. In France it is sometimes used as an aperitif, but the 14 drink is most famous for its ability to mix with dry white wine and make a tasty drink called Kir. Chartreuse: One of the oldest and most historic of liqueurs. Like Benedic- tine, it was invented by monks. This comes in two varieties: yellow and green, with the green being richer and stronger, both in flavor and alcohol. Cherry Heering: This is the epitome of cherry drinks. Produced in Copenhagen, it is superb by itself or blended into any one of dozens of cocktails. s Cointreau: One of the world’s most famous liqueurs, it is made from Cog- nac that has been distilled with orange peel, giving the drink a slightly bitter orange flavor. es Creme de Ananas: A very sweet , liqueur made from pineapple. Creme de Banane: Tastes like bananas. Creme de Cacao: Comes in light and dark versions, both tasting like chocolate. Flavored with cacao and vanilla beans. Fraise des Bois: Strawberry flavored liqueur. Framboise: Raspberry flavored liqueur. Creme de Menthe: This drink comes in three different colors: red, white and green, but it all tastes the same. If you love mint, you'll love this stuff. Makes a wonderful topping for vanilla ice cream. Curacao: Made from brandy and oranges, much like Cointreau. Drambuie: Made from a concentra- tion of various Scotch whiskies, then flavored with pure honey and herbs. This is a favorite with Scotch drinkers. Grand Marnier: This is a mixture of curacao and Cognac, with other secret added ingredients. Tastes like oranges. Kimmel: Made in almost all cold countries, this liqueur is flavored with cumin seeds after having been distilled from grains. Mandarine: Another orange type liqueur made from a brandy base with flavoring derived from Mandarin oranges. Maraschino: Made from cherries and almost unbelievably sweet. More for mixing than drinking, unless you’re anxious to get tooth decay and diabetes. Ouzo: Famous Greek liqueur (Zorba the Greek wouldn’t think of drinking anything else) that tastes like licorice. Not only leaves a frightful hangover, but the next morning your mouth tastes like you ate 5,000 tarbabies. Peach Brandy: Guess what this tastes like? Pernod: Another liqueur that tastes like licorice, this one from France, where it is often mixed with water to form a milky-white drink much favored by layabouts at the local sidewalk cafes. Prunelle: Made from a brandy base with flavoring from wild plums. Popu- lar in France as a natural laxative. Strega: Golden Italian liqueur that somewhat resembles yellow chartreuse. Triple Sec: Almost exactly like cur- acao, although less sweet. Used often in mixed drinks. Although most of the above listed liqueurs are made with some sort of fruit flavoring, there is quite a market, particularly in Europe, for bitter herb liqueurs, such as Gétz von Ber- lichingen, which is a herb liqueur named after Germany’s famed Iron Knight of the Middle Ages. It is very bitter and definitely not the sort of drink anyone would make into a lifelong habit. It could even be used in the treatment of alcoholics, because one sip of this type of liqueur is enough to make anyone swear off “liccor” forever. Coffee liqueurs are also popular, with the Mexican Kahlua leading the pack. Actually, a coffee liqueur is very easy to make in your own home. All you have to do is boil three pounds of regu- lar grind coffee in a large pot until it looks like mud, strain the grounds out, add grain alcohol and simple sugar syrup until it tastes about right, then age it anywhere from one day to thirty (de- pending upon how long you can hold off drinking it) and it is ready for consump- tion. For a real treat after a hard day’s skiing or on a cold winter's night, try Kahlua mixed with hot chocolate. Def- initely not a kids drink! So whatever your taste in liquors (or liqueurs) might be, there is probably a liqueur that is just right for you. Don’t like the taste of mint? Try something fruity like Amaretto. Looking for some- thing unusual? Try Drambuie or Irish Mist. Wanna prove you're a real he-man or she-woman? Try knocking down a few straight shots of well chilled Danish Aquavit. Whatever you're look- ing for in taste, liqueurs can supply it. G Gent As far as you're concerned, the rela- tionship is over. You both had a lot of fun while it lasted, but you didn’t feel what the two of you had together was serious. It’s time to move on, You get the gut feeling that if you don’t do it now, you'll get stuck in something less than what you want with a woman. It’s time to say goodbye. But how do you do it? You like her well enough; it’s just that you don’t want to be romantically involved with her anymore. Maybe you could tell her you just want to be friends. Hurting her is the last thing you want to do. Maybe you could just stop call- ing her, stop asking her out and then she'd get the message. Or you could act like a real bozo and let her break it off. Short of running off to Alaska to work on the pipeline and changing your identity, none of the options sound too good, Contrary to popular opinion, most men aren’t Don Juans; they don’t enjoy telling a woman they’ ve had enough of her and are ready to move on to greener pastures. Instead they deliberate long and hard about just how to do the dirty deed, to break off a relationship. Affairs do sour, either that or they run out of steam. Sometimes it’s worthwhile to invest time and effort into getting over the rough spots and making the rela- tionship more permanent, but other times it doesn’t seem worth the effort. The only way to keep your integrity and your sanity is to say a fast adios. Rather than take a simple and direct route, many men agonize their way through a subtle and often protracted leavetaking that gives both them and their ex-partners a bitter taste over what went down. The Disappearing Artist. This guy sees his women regularly right up until the moment he beats feet. Saturday he took her to the movies, Sunday they went on a picnic and then spent the rest of the afternoon washing her car, Sun- BY KAY MARIE McPHERSON day night he could have won the bed- room Olympics, but Monday morning he vanished and she hasn't heard from him since. She’s tried to call him, but gets a recording saying that his number has been changed and is now unlisted. Out of desperation she drives to his apartment, but he’s never home. At least, he doesn’t answer the door, not for her. She’s puzzled to the point of near paralysis. What did she do wrong? She tries to go back in her mind and look for warning signals that he was losing interest in her, but she finds none. After a few weeks of crying herself to sleep she comes to the conclusion that he was a real crud. Chances are, he’s feeling the same way about himself, too. How could he be so callous to lead a woman on that way? Probably he began losing inter- est in the relationship long be- fore he pulled his disappear- ing act. In spite of the myth of the ramblin’ man, very few men make spur of the moment deci- sions to vanish into thin air. But he didn’t want to hurt her by making her think he didn’t care any more. Somehow it was easier to put off telling her, to act as if everything was normal, until he reached a point where he couldn't take living the lie anymore. Does he feel guilty now? You better believe it! He led her on to think that he was happy with her and prevented her from seeing that the rela- tionship was crumbling. What seemed kind at the time was, in fact, cruel and an act of cowardice. The Flaming Asshole. Everything is going fine. The asshole and his mistress are getting along well until suddenly for no apparant reason he experiences a near total personality change. At least, it looks that way to her. Without warn- ing he begins to break dates and when he does keep them, he’s late. He stops brushing his teeth. Although he used to be prince charming in bed, now he either develops terminal impotence or raging premature ejaculation. Instead of talking about the relationship, he dis- cusses other women and asks his lover to give him advice about how to seduce them. It doesn’t take her very long to dis- cover that he’s become a real turkey, but she remembers the way things used to be so she puts up with it. Maybe all this obnoxious behavior is a phase he’s going through. It’s possible if she sticks with him, that he'll eventually get back to normal. By the time she discovers he’s rapidly moving from bad to worse, she’s ready to kill him. In the meantime, he hangs around waiting for her to do the dirty deed of breaking off with him. That way it won't be his fault. He won't be the one to use harsh words and leave her devas- tated. Of course, by the time she finally gets around to seeing through his act and taking some action herself, she'll be ready to swear off men for the rest of her life. His crummy behavior will have taken its toll on him, too. It may take him a while to recover from her anger at him when she does get around to telling him to kiss off. Chances are, that both of them will be so depressed from the sleazy scene they’ve been playing out the last few weeks, it will take a while before they’re ready to start building other relationships. The Overkill Ogre. “We need to have a little talk,” he tells her. And then he announces that he wants to stop seeing her. “Why?” she asks him. After all, it is her right to know. He immediately launches into a catalog other faults. Not only is he allergic to the things she does, he can’t stand who she is. He’s careful not to miss any of her transgressions from the day teary eyed, listening to him. I her own good he tells her, Unless s body straightens her out, she'll never be able to find a man. By the time he’s finished, he’s convinced both of them that she isn’t worthy of him and then he departs assured that she won't carry a torch for him. “She’s bound to be confused if you refuse to see her any more one night and come back the next week for a ‘just friends’ roll in the hay.” Of course, later he has a pang of conscience, but he can’t very well apologize and take back all of those nasty things he said. She might take it as a move toward reconciliation. He probably didn’t mean half of what he said; he branded her a loser more to convince himself that he should end the relationship rather than to convince her. But it’s over now and both of them will have to live with the fallout. The Mixed Message Giver. He tries as hard as he can to let her know that the relationship is over and he tries as hard as he can not to hurt her in any way. Unfortunately, most of the time, those goals are mutually exclusive. He finds himself compromising, telling her what he wants to and what he thinks she wants to hear even though the two things are in direct contradiction. “I love you, but I can’t see you anymore.” “Our relationship has been the best I’ve ever had, but I want to end it.” Maybe he plays out an elaborate scenario the night that will be their last. He takes her to an expensive restaurant or buys her a present and then tells her his bad news. She can believe either half of his con- versation she wants to. If she desires the relationship to continue; she'll believe the part about how much he cares about her and ignore the rest. He wonders why she keeps calling him months after he’s broken up with her, wonders why she answers his friendly social letters with love notes. How can she feel passionate about him “How you sit there night after night and watch that junk Pll never know.” 22 when he hasn’t really thought of her in ages, not that way! The fact is that the false hopes she clings so tenaciously to are the very ones he holds out to her, in order not to hurt her. By continuing to protect her he’s keeping her emotionally tied to him so that neither of them can be really free. “It’s a lot easier to whisper sweet nothings in her ear than to think of the right words tolether know it’s over.” Pains is never very easy because in most relationships the two people don’t conveniently decide to bail out at the same time. The roles, rejector and rejectee have to be played out and neither one is comfortable. Most of the time, though, everybody, both men and women, put themselves through more hell than is really necessary when they decide to sever a connection with a member of the opposite sex. Before you can tell a woman what you want, you have to decide what you really do or don’t want. Do you want to stop seeing her entirely or do you want to move the relationship to another level? There’s a big difference between never going out with a woman again and slowing the relationship down from an intense fling to a casual fuck once every two months. It’s impossible to be convincing about your intentions with a woman when you're still sitting on the fence. She’s bound to be confused, if you refuse to see her anymore one night and come back next week for a “just friends” roll in the hay. Double mes- sages are born out of confusion and they only lead to more confusion. Based on the behavior and feelings of the woman, it’s important to evaluate whether or not it will be possible for you to have the situation the way you desire it. Not having any more contact with her is fairly simple, but if you've decided you want to still be friends with her or you'd like to see her once in a while for old time’s sake, things may get stickier. The last two options depend on her cooperation. It isn’t easy or rewarding to have a platonic relationship with a woman who’s bent on leading you to the altar and continuing to have sex with her when her designs on you are more than Gent sexual, isn’t fair to both of you either. Contrary to the pop psychologists’ ad- monitions to be everybody's friend, a clean break is often both easiest to man- age and easiest to live with in the end. Many men, when they think the truth will hurt a woman, try to set up a situa- tion they think will ease her pain and their guilt. Most of the time these man- ipulations backfire. Vanishing into thin air isn’t good manners and neither is depending entirely on a phone call or a letter. The only way to both take the woman into consideration and give weight to your words is to tell her face to face. You'd probably expect the same thing from her. Even though you might have the urge to do the deed in public, in a restaurant or in front of friends, in order to make sure she’s not going to over react, that isn’t cool either. What went on between the two of you was probably a private matter and ending it should be, too. It’s a rare person who enjoys getting their walking papers. When it’s done in front of other people, the unpleasant situation turns into a humiliating one. What do you say? It was a lot easier to whisper sweet nothings in her ear than to think of the right words to let her know it’s over. You want her to get the idea without making her feel horrible. The best way to do that is to own your feelings and your decisions. “I'm not happy with this relationship and I want to end it,” is short, effective and to the point. It’s difficult for a woman to argue with your feelings, to try to convince you that you're ecstatic with her when you're not. She gets the picture without “,,. Recognize her right to feel angry, sad or however she feels. But, acknowledging her feelings and hanging aroundto put up with them are two different things.” you putting her down either. “ You're a real turkey and you make me misera- ble,” not only is a low blow, it gives her the temptation to try to reform in order to keep you. The more words you use, the greater the chance you'll put out double mes- Gent sages and she'll believe which ever one suits her. Although most men have been brought up to believe that women should be sheltered, the bitter pill should be sugar coated, it’s human nat- ure for a person to concentrate on the sugar and forget the bitterness. After you've worked your way this far, you don’t want her to misunderstand you and have to repeat the scene again. If you've firmly decided to end your rela- tionship with her it isn’t “nice” to lead her to think otherwise. “The more words you use, the greater the chance you'll put out double messages and she’ll believe which ever one suits her.” So you’ ve spoken your piece and now it’s her tum. Maybe she'll take it well and, then again, maybe she'll begin to cry hysterically, throw things at you or get down on her knees and beg you to stay, What do you do then? If you've told her something she doesn’t want to hear, recognize her right to feel angry, sad or however she feels. But, acknowl- edging her felings and hanging z to put up with them are two different things. Comforting her, offering to stay with her until she gets used to the idea that you don’t want to be involved with her or helping her take her mind off what you’ ve just told her are things you aren't obligated to do. You can if you want to, but be aware that you're negating your well thought out words. You" ve just said you don’t want a relationship with her, but your actions are those of a man who is still involved. It’s time to go and, yes, you'll be feeling both relieved and somewhat guilty. That's life! She may be feeling as if she'd like to do you or herself bodily harm, but that’s life, too. She’ll get over you, probably a lot faster than she would have if you'd tried to make it easier on her and yourself by avoiding the issue. You've avoided cruelty and put downs, you haven't succumbed to mudslinging or character assassination, but you haven't givenvher false hopes to cling to either. In short, you've said your goodbys like a gentleman. Even if she didn’t want to hear them, she"ll re- spect you for it, and more important, you'll respect yourself. G 23 Rachel's Return Re got fed up with the nightclub scene a few years back where she was travelling all over the country appeari s the star belly dancer. “I really got to feeling like I was just a big pair of tits without being a real person,” she says. So Rachel cut out for the Near-East and ended up on a Kibbutz in Israel. She says it was a real experience and that she worked her ass off (but, thank God, not her tits) planting olive trees and packing a gun and being afraid all the time that some terrorist might bump her off. “It was a great experience in some ways because I really started discovering wha I decided that dancing fora living w so here I am back shakin’ it and loving it. It sure beats the heat and dust and terror of the desert.” 24 Racer isa big her own with any Arab terrorist if she had to. She’s 5/9” tall, weights 140 pounds and packs a big wallop with her rl who could hold forty-four inch knockers. She was born in Chicago and started taking dancing lessons when she was twelve, switching from ballet to belly dancing when she was sixteen. “I just had a natural ability for belly dancing which is a very demanding art,” she says. “You have to be able to move every part of your body at the same time and it takes great control to be able to move your stomach and thighs and legs and tits at the same time. I guess it’s something I inherited from my Jewish-Lebanese ancestors. In this country, belly dancing is considered just a cut above stripping but back in the near eastern countries it is the highest form of art. The belly dancer is considered the cream.” 26 Eee: doing it ... getting their girlfriends to shave off their body hair. But if you meet with some heavy re tance, like our pretty, pouting miss here, tell her that you love her but that you will love her even more if she will get with it and clean up her act. Offer to help her every step of the way. Supply the scissors... Have her use blunt-nosed scissors since you're dealing witha __ It’s necessary to cut all the hair you can prior to shaving. sensitive area. Let her handle this herself. Otherwise the razor will snag and cause pain. After she has cut off everything she can with scissors, hand her — Careful now ... start shaving all around the jackpot. If she the lather and have her soap herself carefully. really trusts you, you can do this part yourself. i After the shave, have her do a little touch-up here and there And here we are, pretty as a picture with our little girl look. with the scissors. Remember, neatness counts. Once a week will keep her looking clean and cool. Treasured Chest Ll; they ever held a beautiful breast contest, Nilia would win hands down. She not only has the size, but the over-all contours, color and tex~ ture of her bountiful breasts amount to our idea of perfection. She says she comes from a Middle Eastern country where women don’t even show their faces, and here she is showing much more than that, is why Nilia says she fled to England. “I just couldn't see why I should have to go around all covered up from head to toe when my body was my main asset,” she says. N ilia had wanted to become a dancer — and she studied with one of the best belly-dancers in some reason, I just don’t have the right coordinat swaying in one direction and my breasts start swinging in another and lend up falling on my tail.” So, Nilia says that she was approached by a photographer who wanted to photograph her and he did. She says that being a model isa er than dancing, to do is lie here and look y,” and looking sexy is something Nilia does very well. Frankly, we don’t care that she can’t dance worth adamn Carnal Therapist N.. finding anyone in the outer office, Roger boldly continued on past the partly opened door. To his surprise he found a woman with long blonde hair gazing out the window. She seemed to be rolling up her sleeves. Her back was to him and she apparently had not heard his footsteps as he padded into the thickly carpeted office. She appeared shapeless in the too-long white doctor’s coat. He could hear her muttering about the ill fit of the garment. He decided to clear his throat BY ED MODZELEWSKI in order to gain her attention. She turned abruptly and faced him. “Yes?” she asked, her eyes widening, looking like a pair of huge bright buttons peering —_ through fashionably large horn-rimmed glasses. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know.” She studied him for a short moment, then asked, “Didn't know what?” His face reddened as he replied, “I didn’t know you were a woman.” She smiled warmly. “Haven't always been a woman. At one time I was a girl.” He laughed, breaking the tension in him which seemed to have filled the room, “Have a seat,” she invited. “But I expected to find a man,” he said, looking confused. “So, instead you found a woman. Why should that bother you?” Gent How could Roger possibly talk toa lady shrink about his problem? Luckily, it wasn’ttalk he needed “Well, it’s not that it bothers me, although I guess it does. But I’m not sure whether I can discuss my problem with a woman.” “Why not try? I can be very understanding. Sit down and tell me your name.” “Roger. It’s Roger Jeter. And you're Doctor Jan A. Freuder, the psychiatrist, aren't you?” She continued to smile warmly. Her long blonde hair framed a youngish looking face. Her deep-blue eyes were large and bold. She stepped from the window and came out from around the large impressive desk, looking every inch the professional. She asked Roger, “Do you have an appointment?” “No, Doctor. I just came in. Your name was listed in the lobby, so I just came on up.” She pointed a wary finger, saying, “You should have made an appointment first. Office hours do not begin until two.” Roger glanced nervously at his wrist. It was barely past one. “Sorry,” he said. She shrugged her shoulders. “So now you're here. So relax.” She offered him an outstretched hand and led him to a soft leather couch, then motioned for him to lay on it. Instead he seated himself at the edge, illustration by Nye Willden saying, “I’m kind of embarrassed.” “Why should you be embarrassed, Roger?” “Well, it’s like this, I didn’t expect a lady psychiatrist.” “What did you expect, to find a short fat man with a beard and a Viennese accent?” “Yes,” he laughed uncomfortably. “Something like that. But definitely not a lady shrink.” “A shrink? Roger, is that what you think of a psychiatrist? Shrink?” “Oh, Iam sorry, Doctor. It’s just that I guess I'm so darn nervous. I’m supposed to tell you what’s bothering me. I mean, it would be hard enough to tell another man, but a woman ... ?” His words trailed off. With both hands guiding, she gently forced him to lay back, then loosened his shirt collar and removed his tie. “There,” she said. “That should make you more comfortable. I'll just sit right here, alongside you, and you can tell me what it is that disturbs you.” “No! It’s too embarrassing,” he said, shaking his head violently and gritting his teeth loudly. She took his hand in hers and softly said, “Nothing is too embarrassing. Don’t think of me as a lady psychiatrist. Think of me as a friend. A confidante. Just relax and tell me what it is that is disturbing you so much.” Roger closed his eyes. His body felt too long for the couch. He figured it was just his imagination, but he had the feeling that his feet were hanging over the end. She placed a lithe palm against his perspiring face and encouraged him to speak of what was wrong. Roger suddenly shouted out, “I’m too damn inadequate!” His admission seemed to have startled her. “Roger, what do you mean, inadequate?” Roger appeared to be fumbling for the right words, then his words rushed hoarsely out, “It’s my cock. It’s too short!” 37 She laughed softly, then asked, “How short is too short?” He covered his face with his hands. The words now came out muffled. “Four inches.” “Four inches? Why, Roger, that’s not short at all. In fact, four inches is quite adequate.” Roger bolted upright and wailed, “When it’s erect?” She blinked her large blue eyes and softly repeated, “When it’s erect? You mean, it is just four inches long when you achieve an erection?” “Uh huh,” he sadly admitted, chocking off a sob which had formed in his throat. She nodded her head, surpressing a grin, and breathlessly agreed, “ You do have a problem, Roger. A most serious one.” “That’s why I came here,” he said. He then slipped off the couch and placed his head in her lap, hugging her legs with his arms, begging, “Help me. Please Doctor.” She patted his head, saying she certainly would help. *T will do all in my power to restore your sanity, Roger.” She then maneuvered him so that he was once again resting on the couch. He thought he detected a mischievous glint in her eyes, but quickly passed it off as being due to his own apprehensiveness playing tricks with him. Suddenly, his body jumped as if an electric bolt had passed through him. He felt her fingers tugging down the zipper to his fly! Then when she reached in and brought his cock out into the open, he thought he'd die from ‘assment. “OQoouuu,” she marveled. “This is so cute.” “You ... ? Hey! You really think so?” He looked at her hopefully. She continued to fondle it in her hands. A funny glow came over his face as the warmth from her touch seeped into his loins. She stroked it and observed its growth. “You're right,” she shrugged. “Just about four inches. Perhaps a fraction more.” “Yeah. Four friggin’ inches. Not enough to satisfy anyone. Shit!” “Listen, Roger,” she began, with her fingernails now scratching at his scrotum, “a woman's vagina will accomodate any size. Heck, as a young girl I used to masturbate by shoving a little carrot in and out.” “T bet it was longer than four inches,” he sadly pouted. “Pay attention, Roger. It is the technique, not the size that matters.” “So you say. The last girl I had, I screwed for ten minutes and she never even realized that I had it in her.” Roger seemed to be fighting desperately to hold back the tears which had formed in his eyes. “Loose pussy, huh?” she remarked, rather absently. Roger appeared taken back by her language, but quickly recovered, sadly stating, “More like small cock.” “Don’t put too much emphasis on the size, Roger.” His cock was still in her hands and her gentle fondling had it close to being fully erect. “See,” he said, “even with you playing with it, it really isn’t very large.” “That's because you refuse to relax. Why don’t you just lay back and close your eyes. Your little pee. pee will respond nicely. You'll see.” Roger closed his eyelids, but she could see the tenseness in his face. She worked his penis so that it was fully erect, then began to nibble lightly on it. “Uuuoooorrgghh! Docecchhtor!” he moaned. “Ooohhh!” Her lips had encircled the head of his cock and she was slowly but firmly engulfing its entire shaft. Roger’s body began to stiffen, then suddenly twitched, on the couch. Her fingers were at his belt buckle and before he realized what she was doing, she began to tug his trousers down. Roger responded by lifting his buttocks up and she yanked the trousers down to his knees, with her tongue and mouth still working on the length of his shaft, which was sticking through his wine-colored shorts. Once his trousers were at his knees, she increased her tempo and her wild and noisy sucking caused his body to conyulse rapidly. “Uurrrggghhh!” he grunted, coming into her highly educated mouth and splashing against her tongue and throat. “See,” she said, gulping and licking her lips, “you can so do it.” Roger sat up, blinking rapidly. “Sure, Doc, I have no trouble coming. My problem is satisfying the girl. Heck, they usually take one look at the size of my goddamn weiner and I feel so damn embarrassed that it’s over before we get started. There’s nothing like shame to take the stiffness out of a hardon.” “Roger! I’m surprised at you! Don’t be such a dummy! Fucking is not the only way to satisfy your partner!” Her voice was loud, but not unkind. “Maybe not,” Roger agreed. “But fucking is the macho way.” “Forget macho, Roger. Try some tenderness. Some consideration. You can get a girl so worked up, so aroused, other ways and she won't care whether it’s the size of a flagpole ora pencil.” His face brightened considerably. “Really? Honest, Doc?” “Really and honest. Now I will show you how to go about satisfying a partner without sticking that thing of yours into her vagina.” She rose and pulled him from the couch. Then she lifted her skirt and peeled off her pantyhose. With the skirt and overly large white coat bundled around her slim waist, she sat down on the couch. Her knees were on line with her eyes and she held them widely spaced. Roger's eyes widened as he noticed, then closely examined, her thickly matted crotch. “Yes, Roger,” she began in the way of explaining, “that’s a pussy.” With her fingertips, she peeled back the sides of her vagina and offered him the sight of her moist pink pussy. She then ordered, “Put your face down there, Roger. Right there. Uh huh. Right there.” Yes, Doctor,” he obeyed. “What now? “Now, with your tongue extended, begin to lick all around.” Roger began to lick. “No, no, Roger! Not on my thighs. Lick right in the middle. Yessss. Oohhh. Yessss. You've got it nowwww,” she purred. She had both hands on his head and was applying pressure in an effort to guide him correctly on her. “Oooouuu, Roger. That’s my clit. Yessss, Roggieee. You're certajnly learning fast. Uummm.” The muscles in her thighs were contracting as she felt the orgasm building. Her fingers were knotting the hairs on his head as her emotion rose to a fever pitch. Roger, feeling her erotic response, intensified his efforts with his mouth at her musky pussy and his tongue was now licking at her swollen, and highly sensitive, clitoris. She had a rapid series of explosive orgasms. Roger was amazed at how her lovely, quivering body responded. He thought sure he counted at least three, perhaps four, heck, even five orgasms. Roger was more than satisfied. He was elated. He got to his feet and (Continued on page 88) Gent JANICE: A Sneak Preview month’s spec’ (and she hates being called “ dancing around and shaking them things you forget about size. What she lacks in e makes up in enthusiasm. We're not teasing you by talking about Janice’s in’ and shimmying, because if you’re curious, you can see her do just that. Janice is our current film attraction. All you have to do is turn to page 96, clip the coupon, send in your money, and before you can say boo, she'll be shaking *em all over your home movie screen. Gent O.. girl from the “Show Me” state says that she’s a typical Missourian who didn’t believe, at first, that the photographer she met in Los Angeles was really serious about starring her in her own solo movie. “I don’t know why we Missouri folks are naturally suspicious and skeptical about everything, but I guess it’s a carry over from our ancestors who had sucha rough time when they went west and started taming the wilderness,” she says. “They were a bunch of tough characters then, and they still are pretty up-front, no bull kind of people.” Anyway, Janice had gone to Hollywood just for a visit. She had no ambition of becoming an actress or anything like that. And she ends up as a model and actress. “It just goes to show you that when you least expect something, that’s when it happens,” she says. 2 5 @ 9 4l Odbar Syndrome After “Looking For Mr. Goodbar,” many singles are scrutinizing their pickups more carefully. BY MARGERY MINA & MICHAEL HILL Jane sits, her narrow fingers wrapped gingerly around an almost empty glass of white wine, in a Westchester lounge after a heavy afternoon of overseeing a noisy bank of computers. She’s waiting patiently for a man she doesn’t know. When an attractive, stern-faced man at the.bar approaches and offers to buy her another drink, she agrees. When he suggests he drive her home once they’ve finished their third hazy round of drinks, she agrees. And - when he invites himself into her four-room flat after describing various sexual fantasies he’s been harboring, she agrees. “I guessed I could be more myself, explore those areas of my sexuality | could only fantasize about, b: loose with a stranger,” Jane recollects. “But, af the singles’ bar scene for a couple of years, I rez getting myself into some not-so-nice situations: were out of control; | couldn’t handle them.” | Jane offered the good-looking stranger entra tiny living space, and she soon found herself ii in “not-so-nice situation.” “I'd always wanted to try an S&M experience a she explains, “so when I met this very handsome man, his a macho ‘I-want-to-take-you-home-and- tie-you-up’ rap got me titillated. Well, he tied me up all right — to my bed posts — and gagged me, and then pro- ceeded to strap me unmercifully with his thick belt and fuck me in the ass. Then he left me there until my parents, worried because I didn’t show up at their house for dinner and not being able to reach me by phone, got the landlord to let them into my apartment. Sure, I'm glad I’m not a ten-pound basket case still tied to a brass bed. But, Christ, my mother’s still not speaking to me and I’m so embarrassed about facing my landlord that I’ve been taking showers at a girlfriend’s rather than let him in to fix a broken pipe. I feel dirty in more ways than one.” Jane wandered into a familiar after- work singles’ hangout looking for a re- laxing drink and some interesting com- pany. She ended up bound and gagged and staring helplessly into the dark side of the “Mr. Goodbar syndrome.” It could have been worse. Much worse. She could have ended up dead .-. like Theresa Dunn in Looking for Mr. Goodbar, the clinical, savage novel by Judith Rossner an the equally har- rowing film by Richard Brooks. Theresa, whose unforgettable character was based on that of a real-life, now deceased woman, frequented the dimly-lit Mr. Goodbar lounge on the East Side of Manhattan. Her object? To get laid. She got what she wanted, but, in the end, she lost her life at the hands of an attractive but brutal stranger. Her fate continues to illustrate to both women and men the possible dangers lurking on the other side of an evening’s pleasure. When Looking For Mr. Goodbar hit the nation’s movie screens in the fall of 1977, audiences, many of whom were already disturbed and fascinated by the best selling novel, were held captive by an enduring after-image: the face of Theresa Dunn, played by vulnerable Diane Keaton, lifeless and horrifying in the single bed where she found her only satisfaction. This haunting epilogue ter- rified the people it most closely touched, habitués of the country’s thousands of bars and discos where the lovely and lonely meet. Women vowed not to return to their familiar haunts, or at least to become cautious and selec- tive about the men they met. Men too, upset and affronted by the cruel and unbalanced portrayals of the male characters in the film, protested, “No, that can’t be me. That can’t be anyone / know.” The youthful masses rebelled 44 against the Goodbar syndrome. But the fact remains: men and women want companionship, conversa- tion, sex, and, if they can find it, love. For many, especially those cloistered in any modern urban center, a bar or a disco is the only place where they can be sure of meeting fairly compatible personalities. Looking For Mr. Goodbar shook up a lot of people with its unre- lentingly hard look at a scene the film’s director, Richard Brooks, obviously found unhealthy and decadent, but life — and the search for love and pleasure — goes on. In spite of Goodbar's pow- erful. message, the singles’ world grows. But does the image of Theresa Dunn and the self-destructive lifestyle of an obsessive night prowler continue to haunt young women, as well as some young men, making the current single’s scene? Dr. Susan McMullen, a clinical psy- chologist and sex therapist in private practice in New York City, believes that ,Looking For Mr. Goodbar created a def- inite psychological imprint on many “,.- ‘Looking For Mr. Goodbar’ illustrated the possible dangers lurking on the other side of an evening’s pleasure.” bar-goers — at least temporarily. “The movie made people think twice, use a little more judgment, and realize that there are severe conse- quences to just picking up a stranger,” she remarks thoughtfully. “But for the person of chronic low self-esteem, with very serious doubts about his or her own adequacy, the effect of the film would be a short-term thing. It might jar a person, but these things fade. I don’t think movies have an enormous impact on people’s lives over a long period of time, because other needs and realities of their present day lives are more im- portant. Feelings of desperation can well up and the sort of fear that was caused by Goodbar fades. “It’s too bad in many cases, because that kind of fear and anxiety can serve a very important purpose for all of us. Most of us are used to thinking that fears and anxieties are negative, but they can also be warnings. If you’re with someone and begin to feel slight feelings of fear and anxiety, it may be that you're indeed picking up on some- thing you should be fearful of. You've really got to ask questions and not be embarrassed by it. If you realize it could mean your life, there’s no embarrass- ment about it. Most men are physically stronger than most women, so you've got to use your wits.” Kcrsicen is a 26-year-old com- mercial artist who works in Manhattan and resides in suburban New Jersey. She enjoys an active night life, but speaks often and openly about a few scraps she’s had with undesirable characters. Once, a man she'd just met cornered her in the kitchen of a friend’s house during a party, lifted her onto the electric stove, and threatened to turn on the burners — just for the “excitement” of seeing her scared. In a panic, Kath- leen managed to alleviate the situation with a well-placed kick; and today she maintains she hasn't yet been hurt — at least physically — by the singles’ scene. Perhaps she’s been a little disap- pointed. “Most of the sexual relationships that come out of meeting someone at a bar aren’t good,” she says. “I met this guy once and it was straight to a motel. I didn’t know him, but there was nothing I could do about it. He made me feel that I didn’t have any control. I won- dered whether he could even relate to me as a person. And that experience, for me, was very negative. I’m finding that even though there are people at a bar — human beings — they don’t func- tion as human beings somehow. I never had anything really bad happen, but I definitely feel that the whole thing is unnatural.” Did she ever again see the man who whisked her off to a motel room? “Yes, Iran into him several times and it made for a very strange relationship with him. My sense of self was totally disoriented.” Like thousands of single women, Kathleen read the Goodbar novel and was “very disturbed by it.” She refused to see the film because she felt Ross- ner’s story was “too real.” “There’s a lot of danger involved, even for a woman who has her wits together,” remarks Kathleen. But de- spite this insight, the young woman admits a bit hesitantly that she has never seriously considered putting a stop to her at least once-weekly bar visits. She tries to explain why: “I’m no longer (Continued on page 54) Gent Round 3 for Margret Ties is magnificent Margret’s big third appearance in GENT this year and at our reader’s insistence, we decided to stick her right in the middle because if anyone deserves to be acenterfold, she does. You folks out there in GENT-land can’t seem to get enough of Margret and her marvelous 42-inch D-cuppers, not to mention her real red hair (all over) and her pretty freckles. One reader wrote in that he'd give a fortune for one lock of Margret’s hair (from either end) but she says “look fellas, but definitely no touch.” GRAPHY BY CAESAR GUEST M argret is studying to be an actress, and she’s really working hard at it, as she does with everything she decides to do. If you notics ange since her last appearance (in July) she says it’s because she has lost thirty pounds. “Thank God,” she says, “I didn’t lose an inch from my titties though, because then you wouldn’t have me in GENT and that’s my favorite all-time magazine to pose for.” Thank you, Margret. We asked her why she lost the weight because we liked her just the way she was, and she says that she did it because her agent told her to. “ You see, the camera automatically puts about twenty pounds on you. . . youalways look heavier on film, and I looked positively piggy, or at least the casting directors said so, So, I lost the weight. I’d do anything for a really good role ina movie . . . well, almost anything.” What wouldn’t you do? 1] I wouldn’t go to bed with some big pot-bellied, cigar smoking movie mogul for a part,” Margret says, “because then you automatically get classified as a bum and never really have achance after that to make it to the top. Or, if you do, there’s always someone who spreads the dirt about you.” Margret says that being raised on a farm in Nova Scotia by pretty conservative parents gave her a high sense of morals. “Don’t get me wrong,” she says, “I’mno prude and I'm proud of my body and I even like sex, but I have common sensi 53 GOODBAR SYNDROME Continued from page 44 looking for excitement . . S gotten to the point, for me, that it’s just some- thing I do because I meet people. As far as the kind of relationship I’m looking for, well ... that’s kind of hard to de- fine. I don’t know .,. If I meet some- body I like, somebody who I can have: some sort of rapport with, that’s good enough. I can’t ask for more than that. If sex gets into play, then ... that’s cer- tainly part of Dr. Bruce Miller, a New York City mental health expert, sheds light on the seemingly bewildered attitude shared by women like Kathleen: “Loneliness. tends to lessen discrimination,” he ex- plains. “There’s nothing wrong with casual sex if viewed from the proper perspective. It is not, however, the an- swer to filling a void that must be rec- ognized and filled by the individual her- self.” ' Ellen, a self-confident, 30-year-old divorcee, agrees. “Whey I used to go out, I never really looked for anything in particular ... just to go out for the evening . . . never looking for one-night stands or anything. But as I progressed, Isaid to myself, ‘Well, I'm only human, and a one-night stand can’t hurt me.” And, you know, it’s nice. No commit- ments, no hassles, no nothing. Still, I don’t do it too often. I always feel kind of leery; I don’t want to make it a habit.” The fact is, most women feel “kind of leery” about one-night stands, but a great many of these same women are. willing, time after time, to accept the risks involved. Beir Richard Brooks wrote and directed the controversial Goodbar film, he did considerable homework, “Tf you’re with someone and begin to feel slight feelings of fear and anxiety, it may be that you’re indeed picking up on something you should be fearful of.” prowling singles’ haunts in major cities throughout the United States and inter- viewing hundreds of women, most of whom, like Kathleen and Ellen, claimed they were looking for some- thing in the flashing lights of the disco or the smoky ambience of the bar. When the film was released, Brooks disclosed his findings: “The majority of “Wow! After that, Ican’t believe housewives are wasting their time with milkmen!” 54 the women between 15 and 35 were looking for ‘sensation.’ They wanted to feel something, strong emotions, briefly but strongly, and, if possible, they didn’t want to have to make a commitment.” Now, more than a year after the re- lease of Goodbar, Brooks is willing to discuss the movie, its impact on women, and his own experiences with the vast number of women he inter- viewed. As he explains, not every one of the more than 600 women he talked to frequented singles’ bars; some “would have like to, but were too timid.” All of them had read Rossner’s novel. “One of the most striking similarities I noticed among the women I talked to was the dissimilarity,” reports the di- rectors. “For example, I would ask them toward the end of the session, “Tell me what Rossner’s book was about.” And the fascinating things was that there weren't six of them who told me what the book was really about, or who even agreed as to what the book was about. Instead, they told me their own stories. They were translating the fan- tasies of the girl in the book to their own stories, and the variations were incredi- ble! I realized that what they were read- ing was not going in at all. The book was sort of a trigger which allowed them to fantasize, to travel through their own experiences rather than through what they were reading. “The other similarity was that there was a tremendous yearning somewhere for a kind of relationship that would be more two-sided than it had been in the past. Most of the women I talked to felt they would like to have the capacity to terminate a relationship or to begin a relationship with as much equality — let’s say forthrightness — as the man seems to have enjoyed in the past. And that’s why I made a special point in the movie when I had Theresa say several times, ‘You'll have to go now, you can- not spend the night here.’ ” Does Brooks find that hoped-for “forthrightness” realistically possible? “The women were quite timid,” he acknowledges, “but they were becom- ing less so, I think. And that’s good. If you can’t speak it out straight, what the hell? The problem is that men and women are still playing the old games. “Personally, for me to have a mean- ingful relationship with any woman, she has to be totally independent, I don’t mean that we cannot be interde- pendent in some areas, but when it comes to the two major areas — emo Gent tional and economic independence — I prefer that she have just as much as Ido. If we both have it, then what we mean to each other sexually or romantically can be on a much more substantial level. That’s the way, it seems to me, it ought to be. That’s what I was trying to do with Theresa Dunn. I tried to make more of an ideal of the woman on the screen. I idealized her to the point where she became the kind of woman I wanted her to be.” Theresa Dunn, if anything, was a failed ideal. A woman totally inde- pendent, yet totally confused, afraid of any attachment other than the fleeting union of a late night lay. Like many contemporary women, she felt free to seek her own pleasure with strange lovers; yet, unlike many contemporary women, she was unable to associate her established sexual freedom with any sense of emotional liberation. It was this imbalance which finally, violently, propelled -her out of the singles’ bar mating game and made her a grim’ police statistic — the kind of statistic which, quite chillingly, exists in every major city. Sergeant Gladys Polikoff, of the New York City Police Department's Sex Crime Analysis Unit, notes, “ Accord- ing to computer statistics, we have about 20 sex-related murders a year in New York ... Two percent of the 5,000 reported sex crimes committed each year are attributed to bar or restaurant meetings. “The police department makes no moral judgments in these cases; we just don’t want to see women assaulted or injured. What women have to realize is that they’re vulnerable. There’s really no foolproof way to judge a potential ais killer or rapist. Our police education program does teach some basic defense techniques that'll give a woman about 30 seconds to get away. But if she’s inside a locked room it’s just not enough time. She’s virtually imprisoned.” Theresa Dunn was a prisoner in her own room the night she was murdered. “Pathological individuals can be very charming people. See a person in public a couple of times before allowing him or her into your home.” She had nowhere to run to after the killer forced her away from her locked apartment door and threw her onto the bed. Yes, it happens. And not just in books and movies. Meese Rose is a woman who was lucky enough to sur- vive an incident in which she was “im- prisoned” against her will by a man she'd just met at a bar. “It happened about seven years ago, when I was younger and didn’t know a lot,” declares the spirited woman, who works as both race horse trainer and dance teacher. “My girlfriend and I left a wedding to go to a nearby bar. After a while, she was ready to leave the bar \ “Look, Ralph—I’1l call you back right after the merger.” 56 with some guy from the band, and this guy had a friend who I figured was going to take me home. Instead, he drove me to a motel. He didn’t do a thing to me; he just kept me there. It was like I was kidnapped ... six o'clock in the morning when I finally got out of the room and managed to call a girl friend. It was a freaky thing; it was as if he was trying to teach me a lesson of some kind.” Recently separated from her husband and going her second round in the sing- les’ bar scene, Rose doesn’t expect any more trouble. “I’m a little smarter now,” she declares confidently. “I take my own car, and I just don’t worry about it now. I feel if I have my own car, I can get away whenever I want to get away. “Besides, when I go to a bar, most of the time it’s just to get out, to be with people. And ! talk to just about every- body. I can’t tell you how many nice people I’ve met. One guy I met was a millionaire who was here in New Jersey for a golf tournament. He took me out for a fabulous dinner, and that was it.” Rose’s new-found boldness, as she sees it, comes from an understanding of herself and what's best for her. “I’m not areal women’s libber, although lam for equal pay. But I'll always buy a man a drink; therefore, there’s no obligation. I don’t owe anybody anything when I go out.” Imagining the situation from the male’s point of view, Rose doesn’t be- lieve that she and women like her should pose an emotional threat to men, but she can understand a healthy fear of physical danger on the part of both women and men. “There's always a minority to consider and I’ve heard stories about that, too,” she confides. “At the race track, I heard one story which happens to be true: a guy I know met a girl at a bar, and went back to her apartment with her. He was in bed with the girl, and, for some reason, he was feeling under the pillow and came out with a knife. The guy was really freaked out about it.. She said it was for burglers, prowlers, whatever, but you just don’t know if she’s kinky or what.” Sure, there are casualties in the glib singles’ game. But when one person is searching for another to share conversa- tion, companionship, sex, reassurance, love, there are precious few places in which to look. Of course, the singles’ scene is certainly not pervasively un- healthy, at least not in the extreme of Looking For Mr. Goodbar. For the most part, the bars and discos are filled with (Continued on page 89) Gent Visit To Mammary Lane Lk issue we’ ve got some recent favorites and some golden oldies who will test the memories of even the most loyal readers. Few of our models continue in the business for more than a couple of years. Most end up getting married or pursuing other interests. But the good thing about “Mammary Lane” is that it lets us recall some of the gals who have helped make us a success story over the ) Ladies like Olga, left, who appeared about a year ago and Patricia, below, from last May’: issue. z = aA 4 AAU eibmeniiie ttt Goins back a few years with the photo, above , but we're sure that a lot of you will remember Elaine, the Mountain Girl. Give up on the model, right? Her name was Joanne. Below, a shot of Jenny Markus from our April, 1979 issue. Jenny’s bust goes around 56-inches and last we heard, she was still fixing planes for a living. A. nine months pregnant, Ana Lou strikes a fetching pose for last Febru- ary’s issue, We tried to arrange a follow-up set with Ana Lou after she gave birth, but she dropped out of sight for a time. She’s back in circulation now, though, and we're pleased to re- port that mother and daughter are both doing fine. ite: busty and lusty young maids we featured over a year ago. That's Susan: Shivers on the right, a gal we later photographed lactating. ou’ll never know how close I came to missing this modeling session,” said beautiful Michelle as she limped into the studio. “I decided to go out horseback riding with friends. Well, Iam decidedly not athletic, and the first thing that happens is that my horse bolts and throws me and J fell onto a big rock. Just look at this,” she wailed as she dropped her pants and displayed a very bruised, beautiful leg. “Do you thi can still model?” We told her we didn’t think anyone would notice a bruise. I, spite of the fact that Michelle is prone to ac- cidents, she is still one of the most beautiful D-cuppers around, and to watch her move, you’d never know she has two left feet. And if you're really interested in seeing her move, check out the next issue of GENT, where there will be an ad for Michel- le’s movie (that’s the Oc- tober issue). She is an ex-Chicagoan, who moved to California a few years ago and tried to break into the movies, but after a while, she says she got fed up with Hollywood politics and began modeling full- time. “Making a film has been my uppermost desire though, and now I have starred in my very own movie. I don’t know if I'll win an Academy Award though, because they don’t give awards for this type of film. I think they should though and maybe someday they will. Can’t you just see the day when someone like Johnny Carson will be standing there in his tuxedo giving someone like me an award for the biggest, best boobs ina featured flick?” Mi- chelle has had a lot of offers to appear in nightclubs and theatres but says that so far she hasn’t gotten an act to- gether. “I don’t really know what I would do. Maybe I could fall off a horse or something like that which I seem to be good at doing.” Gent la | ati “This isn’tany one-night stand,” she said. “What you did tonight, you have todo every night. Thatis, if ’'m invited to stay...” BY BUDD VANZANT 66 Dan you, Jason! You’re always going off someplace and leaving me by myself.” “But Helen, honey,” I replied, “I'll be only too happy to take you along with me.” “Don’t Helen honey me, you son-of-a-bitch! If you still think you can get me to go with youto that cabin of yours, back in the wilds of nowhere, and live like a primitive for two weeks, you have to be out of your mind.” Even when she was nasty, it was difficult for me to get mad at her, especially when she stood there completey naked. IfI hadn’t opened my big mouth when I did I could Gent have still been in bed with her. There she was, with me on top of her, her arms and legs wrapped around me, writhing and moaning and telling me how good it was. When we stopped to rest and catch our breath, we cuddled together in each other’s arms and she coaxed me again to give up my apartment and move in with her. Like adumb mutt I replied that we'd talk about it in a couple of weeks when I came back from the cabin. That’s when she rolled me off of her onto the floor and all hell broke loose. “You've got a hell ofa nerve expecting me to sleep by myself every night for two whole weeks while you play nature boy up at that damned cabin of yours,” shrieked Helen. “Maybe you don’t mind spending two weeks alone, but what about me?” “Aw come offit, Helen,” I said. “You know I have work to do. Itake pictures for a living. Wildlife pictures, scenery. And magazine editors buy them. Where my cabin is, it’s ideal for those kind of shots. That’s why I bought the place. And it’s nice to get away from the noise and the pressure ofthe city for illustration by Paul Stevens awhile. Why don’t you come with me just once? You might like it.” “You know what you can do with your damned cabin as far as I’m concerned,” replied Helen. “And you'd better make sure you're alone up there. If find out you’ve been fooling around, I'll cut your throat from ear to ear!” “Helen!” “T mean it! And youknowI mean it. Don’t ever try two-timing me, because I won’t stand for it. You cheat on me just once, Jason Miller, and you're dead!” With that she strode offto the bathroom, her bare butt quivering, and slammed the door behind her. It made me shudder to think how vicious she could be at times. I put on my clothes and left. The next morning I was out onthe highway headed for my little place in the wilderness. What would happen when I got back [had no way of knowing. Maybe Helen would have cooled off by then and would welcome me back with open arms, and into her bed. Like she’d done several times before. Then again, maybe she’d make good her (Continued on page 72) 67 Big Discovery I. tickles us pink to find a new D-Cupper for your viewing pleasure, and especially when she’s a real knockout like Lori here who busts the tape at a whopping forty-four. One of our talent scouts spotted Lori walking down the street in Toronto (of all places) causing traffic jams, riots and heart failure with her big boobs flopping freely inside of a pink cashmere sweater, She was on her way home from the grocery store to prepare an elaborate meal for her latest boy- friend. Lori loves to cook, and says she also likes to eat. She is a hefty gal but not fat at all. She says she likes to keep her weight up though, because she lost thirty pounds once and says that she lost about five inches on her bustline. Unlike most girls who are self- conscious about having big breasts, Lori says that she looks upon her boobs as a blessing. “If Ididn’t have my big tit- ties, I'd be just another girl on the block,” she says. “I’m not the most gorgeous girl in the world, but I stand out in a crowd because I wear things that add to my charms which are my big boobies.” Gent MORE THAN YOU CAN SUCK BABY! Feast your eyes on giant cock- raising mounds of horny flesh. See the heaviest and most voluptuous tits ever. Giant 84x11 BIG TIT photo mags loaded with full color big bazooms you can virtually sink your face and mouth into. ONE BIG TIT MAG only $5 FIVE INCREDIBLE BIG TIT MAGS only $20 (SAVE $5) ‘You must be over 21. State age. Order direct from me- LINDA’s PRODUCTS Box SI— GE979 Times Square Station, New York, N.Y. 10036 suns PHONE NUMBERS |, 5 ino vomre xy '200 bf PERVERSION MOVIES WHIPPED & RAPED. GOLDEN SHOWER ORGY THE KIDNAPPERS: BOUND & SPANKED STUD SUCKER FOCUS Dept. 116 Box 35445. LA. CA 90035. 1 Oral Orgy Aa }2 Tortured Teacher HIGH HEEL FILMS i real_pencil thin Shy- wiset High: Heels patents 6” high iiss and. caress. them. FULL 200’ 8MM REEL 5 DIFFERENT FILMS . SKYSCRAPER HEEL CATALOG .....$1 INE. CRAFT, Dept, *72° Box 442, Hollywood, Calif. 90028 NEED MONEY IN A HURRY. UNUSUAL PHOTOS OF UNWED PREGNANT GIRLS, RUNAWAYS, GIRLS OF ALL AGES, ~.8-16.. AND WILD ORGY PHOTOS TAKEN OF GIRLS FROM BROKEN HOMES. $2 FOR EACH GROUP, ALL 3 GROUPS FOR ONLY $! S. P.b. Apt. «P542) 3531 VANOWEN STA, VAN NUYS, CA 91407, 72 CABIN FEVER Continued from page 67 threat and open up my throat. In that case our relationship would cease. Iliked Helen. Not only was she great company, most of the time, but she was a hell of a great lay. She was several years older than me, about thirty-seven. She had a kid in college I had never met. But she sure didn’t look her age. She looked so darned good most people we met assumed she was younger than me. Several hours later I turned off the highway and drove for another hour along a dirt road that got narrower and rougher, until at last I was at the lake. Then a short distance further along I pulled up alongside my cabin. l spent the next morning getting it in shape, then noted what I'd forgotten to bring along in the way of groceries, and paid a visit to the small general store ten miles further back at the dirt cross- roads. She was staring at me as I entered the small store, so I let the screen door slam behind me and stared right back. And I sure liked what I saw. She was eighteen or nineteen at the most, had a pretty face, a great pair of tits, trim shape, nice legs, and I was wishing she'd tum around so I could give her hind quarters an appraisal. She must have read my mind for she turned and gave me a sideview. Her cut-offs were so short I didn’t see how the cheeks of her shapely butt could keep from spilling out. Though my approval of her charms was obvious, she didn’t look away. Her eyes stayed fixed on me, giving my crotch a going over. An impish smile played across her face when she saw a bulge in the front of my trousers be- come quite apparent. “Jason Miller!” The happy shout and hearing my name tore my attention from this lovely vision and I tumed to greet Mrs. Barker as she came through the door from the back of the store. “When did you get back “Yesterday afternoon,” I replied. “Spent this morning getting the cabin cleaned up and fit to live in, then made a list of things I need and here I am. “It’s nice to have you back, Jason,” said Mrs. Barker. “How long are you staying?” “Couple of weeks I guess. Came up to take some wildlife pictures for a magazine assignment.” “A working vacation,” laughed Mrs. Barker. “You and that camera. Can't you learn to take things easy’ “That's all you can do back here,” said the cute young thing as she came over to where we were standing. The smile on her face indicated she wasn’t as disgruntled as she tired to sound. “A general store, with gas pump out front, two houses with the post office in one of them, and that’s i “Jason, I'd like you to meet my niece, Jeanie,” grinned Mrs. Barker. “She's been visiting us for the past two weeks and the poor thing is bored sti There's nobody within miles of here who’s anywhere near her own age. She finished her first year of college, then stopped off here on the way home to her mother, who’s my sister.” Jeanie laughed. “It wasn’t all that bad, Aunt Edith. Honest.” “You're from the city? She nodded. “It's a pity you didn’t get here two weeks sooner, Jason,” said Mrs. Barker. “The two of you could have had lots to talk about, both of you being I asked. 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We chatted for a while, then Mrs. Barker filled my order and rang it up. I paid her, wished Jeanie a pleasant trip home, and left. It seemed like a long way back to the cabin because the nar- row rough road made it slow going. My cabin by the lake is not easy to get to, and I like it that way. It’s so far off the beaten track I’m never bothered by tourists nosing around. And a few hardy souls who have tried to visit me, got lost on the way and gave it up. - So later that afternoon after I'd finished putting the things I'd bought away in the cupboard, you can imagine how I jumped when somebody knocked on the cabin door. There she was, standing on the porch, with that same mischievous grin when I opened the door. “Jeanie!” I exclaimed. “That's very good! What a memory for names and faces,” she said with a happy laugh. “T wouldn’t forget you in a hundred years,” I told her. “How long has it been? About an hour?” “Thirty-five minutes. I'd have been here sooner but I didn’t want Aunt Edith to suspect I was coming here instead of heading for home. Anyway, I'm glad you haven't forgotten me.” “And why would I do that? Regard- less of what your generation thinks of my generation, I am not senile.” “There wasn’t anything senile about the way you looked at me in the store a while ago,” she said. I closed the door and waved my hand in the direction of the couch. “How did you: ever find your way back here?” I asked. “Even the chipmunks get lost.” “I'm not a chipmunk, in case you haven't noticed.” When she reached the couch she turned and caught me admir- ing her well filled, tight fitting cut-offs, and added, “Hmmm ... I see you have noticed.” I moved close to her and she slipped her arms around my neck and hugged me. “Well? 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And she wasn’t at all shy about rubbing herself against my crotch. “That’s more like it,” she said when she finally moved her mouth off mine. “Now that’s the kind of kissing I want from you while I’m here.” “How long are you planning on being here?” I asked, unable to keep my voice from quivering a little. “As long as you'll have me,” she replied. “Let’s try that again, just to make sure you’ ve got it right.” If I hadn’t had my shoes on she'd have seen she was curling my toes, not that she needed to see them to know she was having an effect on me. “You know what it was about you that caught my attention, back at the store?” she asked. “What was that?” “You were horny. Are you horny now?” Before I could answer that one, her hand was on the throbbing bulge in the front of my trousers and she took a firm grip on it. “Uh-huh ... You're horny.” She was just full of surprises. With a sudden movement she pushed me off balance, and I sat down abruptly on the couch. The next thing I knew, she was on my lap. “Now what’s on your mind?” I asked, trying to look nonchalant about the whole thing. Her arms tightened around my neck as she kissed me. She kept her mouth on mine, making the kiss go on and on, while my temperature went up and up Slipping my arms around her I held her close and wondered if she could feel my erection poking up beneath her. Her lips parted from mine and her voice was a soft whisper. “I’ve never made it with an older man ... Want to give me a try?” “You mean ... Right now ...?” “Why not? Maybe you got laid dur- ing the past two weeks, but I didn’t,” she replied. “How about it?” She didn’t wait for me to reply. Her mouth went onto mine again and as if she wasn’t being persuasive enough, she brought up the heavy artillery, pres- sing those full firm tits into my chest. After she came up for air she looked TELE-SEX Get Off Over The Phone Call our sexy ladies, or have them call you. 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She'll submit to ) \every whim! / 1 CHRIS IMPORTS \ BOX 85097, DEPT. co LOS ANGELES, CA 90072 GUARANTEED SATISFACTION Horny Fairy Tales 86 PAGES OF EXPLICIT COMICS A400 marl EE SEX CATALOG! '# CINDERELLA 4 JACK & THE BEANSTALK ‘# GOLDILOCKS pe IEROTIQUE PRODUCTIONS » BOX 4459 DEPT. 2x PANORAMA CITY, CA. 1412 ¥ cae 0. W) pies ys bse into my eyes with a teasing smile on her face. Her shapely little ass wriggled and squirmed around on my lap and I thought my rigid shaft would tear through the front of my slacks in an effort to get up at her. She did it deliber- ae to make her point. '$ quite obvious you want me,” she s: aid wih a lascivious grin. “You could make a stone statue want u,” I gasped. “Then what are we waiting for?” she asked. “Let’s face it. You aren’t going to find any woman to make out with while you’re here. Aunt Edith would put out for you if she had the chance, be- cause she sure has the hots for you. But Uncle Joe would have your head if you got any of that. And I didn’t find any guys around here to give me what I need, either. It’s just you and me, both wanting it. You might as well admit it. You know that you want to let yourself go and just fuck me silly.” Her mouth pressed against mine even more urgently than before. My arm around her tightened and my hand reached for her breast and fondled it. My other hand found its way between her legs. She knew she had my number. While she worked me over with her mouth pressed on mine, I fumbled with the straps on her halter. “Here, let me help you,” she said breathing heavily. “Your hands are shaking.” Her boobs were even more enticing when they were uncovered. I thrust my face into them and she let out a little cry of delight when I kissed them and sucked eagerly on each nipple until they rose up stiffly excited. She squealed with delight again when I picked her up in my arms and carried her off to the bedroom. Wie afternoon had slipped away and so was the evening when I opened my eyes and saw her gazing at me hap- pily as she lay cuddled against me. “Hi,” she said softly. “Hi. Have I been asleep long?” “Not long. We both dozed off. I woke up a few minutes ago and I’ve been laying here just watching you.” I felt her hand down below, getting me stirred up. “More than just watch- ing,” I grinned. “It’s still stiff. Imagine that. After all it’s been through!” Without taking her hand off it, she leaned over and kissed e. “I’m surprised you're awake. After (Continued on page 80) Gent : Crumpled Ladies lingering in all Their just-Layed loveliness. . . freshly pumped and luscious pink pretties. . <_, “wT aa ha \Sh wer) > ee ayer aoe iw are Vil ~A iD BY OTIS SWEAT If the title "Crumps" sounds less than Pleasant to you then meet Linda — the smiling victim of a box orifice smash! There's certainly no pain in her drive-in window. Helen is a housewife, a mother, and busy! 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What time is itz She looked past me to the alarm clock on the dresser behind me and laughed, “Bedtime.” I smacked her playfully on her bare butt. “Okay by me.” “But not by me,” she replied and rolled out of bed, taking me by the hand and pulling me with her. “We wash up and I'll fix us something to eat. You have to keep up your strength, you know. This isn’t any one-night stand. What you did tonight, you have to do tomorrow night. And every night after that. With one or two quickies during the day. That is, if I’m invited to stay.” “Baby, you're invited.!” “Good. I’m glad that’s settled.” “Lhope you aren’t forgetting this is a cabin in the wilds. No shower and no hot water.” “Who needs it?” she replied. “It’s a beautiful night out. We'll go skinny dipping in the lake. You get the soap and towel.” “We ne day followed another like an erotic fantasy, a dream that you never really expect to have happen to you. But it was happening to me. And I loved it. It pleased her that I wanted her so often. I could never surprise her or catch her when she wasn’t in the mood. If I grab- bed her while she was getting lunch ready, or while we were walking in the woods, that was okay with her. She was always willing. I had figured that two weeks in the wilderness was all I could take, but that was if I'd been living alone. I told Jeanie I'd stay the whole summer if she'd stay with me and she was over- joyed at the idea. The summer went by quickly. Much too quickly. Cuddled up in bed one morning, Jeanie wrapped her arms around me and Gent HARDCORE INSERTION & FULL CLIMAX VIDEO TAPES ~ DISCOUNT PRICES U samote rium $3.00 Film Collectors Assoc. ver Goo POBox H134 Inglewood, Cali NEW LIQUID! MAKES HER SUCH YOU Guaranteed to make any woman lick and suck you She'll want to eat you every time! 11 Bottle $5 Cl 2 Bottles $8 VALLEY Box 3562 Dept. 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And I should think about leaving now, so I can visit with Mom for a while before I start back to college.” “Sure,” I said. “I have plenty of things that need doing when I get back too.” “Jason, how about you coming with me to meet Mom? She's a real doll, and very understanding. She knows the rea- son I haven’t been home is because I’ve been shacking up with a guy I like an awful lot. I want to show you off and let her see what a really great guy I’ve found.” “When you put it like that,” I laughed. “How could I ever refuse?” “You'll come?” “T'd love to.” She let out a little squeal and climbed all over me. We didn’t get breakfast for another two hours. Each driving our own car, we skirted carefully around the general store dur- ing the wee hours of the morning so her Aunt Edith wouldn’t see and recognize Jeanie’s car, and know that she had spent several weeks up at my cabin with me, instead of going home that day she left. Once on, the highway we made it to a larger community where I left my car at a garage. I could come back on the bus at a later date and pick it up. To- gether Jeanie and I rode back to the city in her car, When we got to the city and went into a restaurant, Jeanie phoned her mother. She came back to our table with a piece of paper in her hand. “What’s that?” I asked. “Mom's new address,” she replied. “She moved during the summer. I still have the key to her old apartment. Lucky I phoned first. Can you imagine us walking in on a family of strangers?” “And maybe getting shot,” I said. An hour later we arrived at the apartment building where Jeanie’s mother lived. In her enthusiasm to see her mother, Jeanie ran on ahead while I followed as quickly as I could, carrying her suitcase. I saw Jeanie and her mother in the dimly lit hallway, embrac- ing each other at the open doorway to the apartment. As I came up to them Jeanie’s mother looked up at me. Our eyes met at the same instant. “Jason! What ...! What are you doing here with my daughter?” “Helen!I...Ah.., Hello, Helen... I guess ... it’s a small world, isn’t it?” Gent M..: people seem to think that it’s always the guys who con the chicks into the swinging scene. The accepted picture of the swinging couple is the horny, dominant male exerting his sexual will over some hapless, helpless luckless female. Well, in my case nothing could have been farther from the truth. And I'll never forget that day I came home and my wife hit me with the idea of becoming a swinger. Talk about a shock! I just walked in the door after a hard day’s work at the office and my wife says, “I got something I want to talk over with you.” “Oh yeah,” I reply, thinking that the little lady was getting ready to hit me up for a new dress and a night on the town. “Well, let’s hear it.” “T want to fuck the guy living in the apartment next-door.” “You what!” Iexclaimed, still wondering if I had heard my wife right. “I want to fuck the guy living next-door,” Debbie re- peated. “That's what I thought you said,” I replied, still in a state of shock. “I met Shirley down by the pool about a month ago,” Debbie started to explain. “Shirley?” I said, making the name sound like a question. “That's Bob's wife,” Debbie said, nodding her head to- ward the apartment next-door. “Bob’s the guy’s name.” “Oh,” I said sarcastically. “Just let me finish, then you can have your say,” Debbie said and then continued. “Like I was saying, I met Shirley down by the pool one day and found that we had a lot in common. We've both had on and off careers, both went to college back East, both got married at about the same age. We met for three days down by the pool and got to know each other and then the conversation finally got around to sex. When Shirley told me that she and Bob were swingers—well, I almost fainted.” “They're swingers?” I asked, still feeling pretty numb about all that I was hearing. Debbie nodded firmly and then went on. “At first I was shocked and my first impression was that I had been taken in by some pervert. But then I backed off and realized that I really liked Shirley, and that her sexual preference shouldn’t enter into the matter.” “Sounds reasonable,” I said, getting closer to normal again. First WING BY JAMES WILLIAMS “That’s my wife, | thought. He can’t be doing that — not tomy wife!” “Yes, and then Shirley told me about her entry into the swinging scene and about the way she felt about it all. What she was saying didn’t sound perverted or shocking. It seemed to make some sense.” “Care to explain?” “T'lltry,” Debbie said. “I really want you to understand.” Debbie was silent for a moment, started to speak, and then lapsed back into silence again. “What's the matter?” I asked. “Cat got your tongue?” “No,” Debbie sighed. “I was just thinking how much better Shirley could explain it than me.” Then Debbie's eyes lit up and she said, “I’ve got a great idea! Why don’t Ijust run next-door and ask Shirley to come over and rap with us about swinging? Bob’s working late tonight so there shouldn’t be any problem at all.” “Why not, indeed?” I said, shaking my head in bewilder- ment. By the time Debbie got back with Shirley from next-door I had downed a couple of straight slugs of Jack Daniels. I needed it! “Honey,” Debbie said as she approached the bar with one of the most stunning redheads Id ever seen. “This is Shirley, the girl next-door.” I gave Shirley a quick once over and said, “It’s my plea- sure, believe me.” Shirley smiled sweetly and said, “Could I have one of those?” She pointed at the bottle of Jack Daniels. I mixed a round of drinks and then walked around where I could lean an elbow on the bar and get comfortable. I was beginning to look forward to the promised explanation of the swinging way of life. “Ttold Jim you could explain things about swinging better than me,” Debbie said to Shirley. Shirley nodded and said, “This ought to be interesting.” She paused for a moment, took a sip of her drink, licked her delicious looking lips, and said, “Swinging will let you experience feelings that you couldn’t experience any other way. T held up a hand and said, “ You’ ve lost me already.” “Ts it okay if I enlist your help to show you what I mean?” “Sure,” I said. Debbie nodded eagerly. Then came the next big shock of the evening! Shirley placed her drink on the bar, turned to me and put her arms around my neck. She looked at me for just amoment Posed by professional models. 83 and then planted one of the most sensuous kisses imaginable right on my lips. I felt a hot darting little tongue reach out and part my lips, explore them momentarily and then reach into my mouth full length. In the background I heard Debbie gasp. Shirley finally came up for air, turned to Debbie and said, “Ever see your man kiss another woman?” Debbie shook her head. She was wide eyed. “That's a new experience, isn’t it?” Shirley said. Debbie nodded, still looking a little dazed. “Well, how do you feel about it?” “I'm flabbergasted,” Debbie blurted. “I haven't had time to decide how I feel.” Shirley laughed and said, “Let’s all talk about it. Maybe we can learn something.” The next thirty minutes were spent in conversation which involved a lot of questions and answers — and some surpris- ing ones at that. Finally Shirley said, “Well, we survived that first experiment and I think you both learned something about swinging and yourselves. How about another drink. Maybe we can get a little looser. Maybe even try something a little more daring than a simple kiss.” Simple kiss, [thought to myself. Then I wondered what her complex kisses must be like. I felt the start of a hardon so I went to mix some drinks and tried to keep my cool. This was getting interesting. We were just getting started on the drink when Debbie said, “Shirley, what did you mean by something a little more “daring’?” “How about something like this,” Shirley said and reached over and began stroking the front of my pants. My dick leaped into an immediate erection. “A million thoughts are running through my head,” Debbie said, her voice quivering slightly. “But it’s okay, I'm not freaked out.” “How about this,” Shirley said and unzipped my pants. Then she wrestled my throbbing tool out of my pants and began to stroke it softly. I couldn’t believe what was happen- ing! Shirley studied Debbie for a moment and said, “You still okay?” Debbie nodded and then Shirley turned to me. “How are you doing?” “T think I’m about to faint,” I said truthfully. Both girls laughed and then Shirley said, “Come on. Let’s move over to the couch.” Another drink later found Debbie and I sitting side by side on the couch and Shirley curled up on her knees on the floor just in front of the couch, “So far Debbie's the one who has been going through all the heavy stuff,” Shirley commented. “Jim, on the other hand, you've had it pretty easy.” , “What do you mean?” I said. “Well, Debbie’s had to watch while I toyed around with you. Switch positions for a moment, How would you feel if she were the one being toyed with?” “If Debbie can handle it, I can handle it,” I said bravely. “Let’s see if you really mean that,” Shirley said. I watched in mute fascination as Shirley slowly and methodically undressed — right in front of Debbie and me. You certainly couldn’t tell her to stop, not with the body she had. When Shirley reached down and started unbuttoning Debbie’s blouse I felt a little pang of worry. The worry increased when I saw Debbie lay her head back against the couch and close her eyes. The blouse and the bra came off. What was happening? Then the slacks and finally the bikini panties were being pulled down. Just as I started to protest Shirley reached down and stroked my penis. I suddenly realized I'd been sitting there on the couch, talking and drinking, with my dick sticking out of my pants! However, Shirley’s hand quickly quelled any em- barrassment I might have felt. She was able to do things with her hands that a lot of chicks have a hard time doing with their mouths. “Now that I have your attention,” Shirley smiled, “watch this and see how you feel about it.” Then Shirley knelt down in front of Debbie, pressing her large attractive breasts up against Debbie’s knees. Shirley began to stroke Debbie's thighs and said, “Just close your eyes, relax and let yourself enjoy what's happening.” I was a little surprised when Debbie moaned softly and said in a sleep-like voice, “Why don’t we get started?” There were not many preliminaries. In only a minute or so Shirley had her head between Debbie's thighs. Moving like a charmed cobra, Shirley’s tongue crept out toward Debbie’s pussy — weaving, darting, playing side to side. The first time it brushed through Debbie’s pubic hair she gasped and thrust her hips upward. Debbie was enjoying this! I tried to analyze my feelings and to my surprise found the only thing I could feel was the throbbing sensation in my prick. Debbie was sprawled across the couch, legs spread wide, hips just hanging over the edge of the cushion and Shirley was taking advantage of the position. She was on her hands and knees, her face buried in Debbie’s crotch and it appeared that Shirley was enjoying this scene just as much as Debbie. Her ass was rotating, undulating slowly, quivering every now and then and it was almost hypnotic. All I was aware of was that ass — and that pussy glistening moist and warm. I watched and felt an urge growing inside me. It grew until it was nearly uncontrollable. I could feel a load boiling down deep, demanding to get out. It was one of those too-good-to-be-true moments when Shirley suddenly bubbled, “Why don’t you screw me while I'm doing this?” I was out of my clothes and down on the floor in a flash. I couldn’t believe what I was doing! I like to think I'm a cool, casual guy when it comes to sex but I was behaving like any horny 16-year-old. I mounted Shirley from the rear, almost like a stallion, thrusting my dick full length into that irresist- ible pussy of hers without so much as a moment’s foreplay. Shirley’s back arched and her ass quivered violently. She. moaned but I couldn’t tell if it was because of pleasure or? pain. Any question was removed when she threw her head back and panted, “Do that again! And again! And again!” I drew back and let her have it again — same routine. I couldn’t believe the results! Never in my life had I seen a woman shake her ass so skillfully. It was almost like a human vibrator. This combined with the slow, controlled contraction of her vagina made my penis feel like it was getting sucked by a thousand tiny, eager little mouths. I managed to get off one more thrust before I shot my load. And what a load it was! When I finally stopped coming I just fell back into a heap on the floor. But Shirley and Debbie were just getting started. Evidently my shooting off had excited the girls because they seemed to get a little more frenzied when I was coming. Shirley had worked on Debbie’s pussy furiously and Debbie had responded by pounding on the couch, groaning and writhing, all of which was still building up. , Ileaned up on my elbow just in time to hear Debbie cry out, “I'm coming! Oh, oh, ooooohhhhhh.” Gent Debbie arched her hips high into the air and held them there momentarily. This is what she always does when she comes. Her hips fell back onto the couch but Shirley just kept on working away. Pretty soon up came Debbie's hips. She was coming again! And so soon! Debbie’s hips rose and fell seven times before Shirley was content to back off. “Wow,” Debbie said. “I didn’t think I was capable of anything like that. I’m exhausted.” “Oh, hell,” Shirley said, “And I'm just getting warmed up.” She looked up at me, winked, then looked down at my prick which was starting to get hard again already, and said, “Why don’t you sit down right here.” Isat down on the couch. Shirley got on her knees in front of me and wriggled in between my legs. She took my erection, now throbbing purple, in her hand, looked at it for a moment and then darted her tongue out, just tapping the head. It felt like an electric shock. My legs trembled slightly and Shirley smiled. Then she began to take it into her sexy mouth, slowly, just easing down ever so slowly. As her lips moved snail paced down the shaft of my joint, inside her tongue was working wonders. Debbie happened to glance over and her eyes opened wide as more and more of my prick disappeared into Shirley's expert mouth. Debbie licked her lips nervously, and moved a little closer. 4 Everything seemed to happen too fast, sort of like one of those old time jerky Keystone Kop movies. Debbie was up off the couch, down on the floor on her back with her head positioned right beneath Shirley’s hips — and it all seemed to happen just like that. “Uuuuummmm, uwwuummmm, uuuuummmmm,” Shirley moaned and that humming sensation combined with all the other action that was taking place around my shaft was just about too much. Every muscle in my body stiffened and I felt like I was momentarily paralyzed. Suddenly, the doorbell rang and I jumped like a cat scared out of its wits. Being in the state of just-getting-ready-to-come and then that damned doorbell. It was like syspended animation. All three of us just froze like statues. The bell rang again and then a male voice called out, “Hey! Anybody home? It’s Bob from next-door.” Shirley quit sucking on me long enough to say, “Oh, it’s Bob. I left a note telling him to come over when he got home. Hope nobody minds.” Then she looked at my dick for a moment and added, “Debbie, would you let Bob in? I don’t want to quit what I’m doing.” By the time Debbie got to the door I was halfway to climax again. Just as the door opened Shirley slid her mouth down and I could feel it forcing its way into her throat. I was a little concerned at what Bob was going to think about all this. After all, his wife had my penis in her mouth, up to the hilt. Funny, the guy didn’t say anything. He just looked at me and Shirley, smiled, looked at Debbie and smiled wider. He looked at Debbie for a moment, and she did look damned good, stand- ing there in the nude, all hot and bothered. Finally he said, “Why don’t you go back to what you were doing while I get undressed. Ill be with you in just a minute.” Debbie just nodded and hurried back to resume her seem- ingly pleasant task. Soon her head was under Shirley and she must have been doing something right because Shirley started to shake and quiver again. This prompted Shirley todo evena better job on me. She would ease off my dick, coming up all the way, and then slowly go back down, tongue, lips, and throat all working together to produce a fabulous slow milk- ing sensation. I could feel the come climb a little higher each time she went through the cycle. I was leaning back, my eyes half-closed, shaking with pleasure and excitement but even so I was aware of the fact that Bob had finished undressing and was on his way over to join the group. I wondered what he was going to do. Was he going to eat my wife? When Bob started sucking Debbie's breasts and fondling her crotch I started to protest. That’s my wife, I thought. He can’t be doing that — not to my wife. But Shirley put some special movement into her act, my joint pounded and jerked, and I couldn’t say a thing. Then Bob moved down, directing his lips toward Debbie's vagina. I can’t stand for that, I thought. I've got to get this thing stopped. Then Shirley came up for some air and started working her tongue slowly across the head of my dick. Every muscle in my body went tense and I had to grit my teeth to keep from coming my head off. Slowly that tongue rolled around the head of my dork, the lips doing a special thing all of their own. I tried to say stop when Bob started eating Debbie but I said good instead. How long and how she managed to do it I can’t say, but Shirley kept me hanging on the very edge of coming, just a second short of exploding for what seemed to be a very long time. And it was murder — but what a way to go! But then the reality of the situation struck me. From half closed eyes I watched in horror as Bob changed positions, positioned himself between Debbie's legs and aimed his sizable dork at her pussy. This rotten bastard was going to screw my wife! I pulled myself into an upright position. I had to stop this. Then Shirley began moving her tongue a little faster and I fell back against the couch, helpless to do any- thing. Then a strange thing began to happen. As Bob slowly eased his dork into Debbie’s pussy everybody seemed to respond. Debbie thrust her hips up to meet Bob’s and evi- dently had done something a little special to Shirley’s pussy because Shirley suddenly buried my joint deep in her throat — and I began to come. It was not one of those violent jerking climaxes. No, it was almost totally the opposite. I felt a single contraction occur as Shirley moved her mouth down my prick. Then the sperm started to flow, just a solid, steady stream that didn’t know when to shut off. Just as everybody had seemed to respond when Bob stuck his prick into Debbie's pussy, everybody seemed to respond to my climax. Shirley began to swallow and moan — and started that shaking and quivering. I could see Debbie began to pump her hips and then I saw her arch them high and hold them there. I knew she was coming. Then Bob plunged into Debbie to the max and it suddenly made no difference to me that my wife was getting screwed by a stranger. I just hoped he was coming as well as I was. Everybody coming at once, just the way they do it in the porno flicks and it was the most satisfying climax ever — at least for me. After that come I was completely drained. There was absolutely nothing left, not a drop. The only other action of the night was when Debbie gave Bob a good blowjob while Shirley and I lay back and watched. That was how it all began and it’s been going on for several years now, with Shirley and Bob and a few other great couples. Where it’s going to stop I can’t say but the next time you hear somebody say it’s always the man who gets the chick involved in swinging, you'll know better. Just like 1do, G Ecstasy... times ten! 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Send free with all orders. GRAND TOTAL D | do not want to receive a catalog or have my name placed on any mailing list, dateieieteisaisteetetetete oer B/W COLOR PHOTO SETS $19 $3&$5 $19 $3&$5 $19 $3&$5 $19 $3455 $70 $10 & $17 8mm ally FILMS COLOR CATALOG Mite onDER ILM SPECIAL © BOX 39604 e DEPT. 910 LOS ANGELES, CA e 90039 ree irae Yo ete $1.00 for 6 Snapshots Men Only $2.00 for 18 Snapshots Over 21 Vl take all my clothes off so you can watch me as | do it just for you 6 Snapshots 18 More ‘8mm Home Movie BE A BETTER LOVER! ‘No Pills ~ No Gimmicks. PUBLISHER'S CLOSEOUT SALEIT Bet 3 O %o OFF, 7 ESWeDsH OMA oncy ea BOX 32 DEPT. 09 « NOL HOLLYWODD, CA 91602 CARNAL THERAPIST Continued from page 38 looked down at her satiated form, a huge sex-satisfied grin on her perspiring, but pretty face. His voice was barely above a whisper when he said, “I did it.” Then he shouted, “Goddamn! I did it! I actually knocked the shit outa her! Me! I finally satisfied a woman and she never once made fun out of my little cock!” “Oohh, Roger.” she gushed throatily. “You were wonderful.” Roger suddenly had second thoughts. He became doubtful.’ “You mean it? You really mean that I was wonderful? No kidding?” “Oohh, Roger, you were truly wonderful. And with a little practice you could become just great.” His back was erect. His chest was thrown forward. “You’ré right. I was great.” She smiled, batting her lashes at him in a way which he took to mean that she would like more. But her body tensed as if she had just remembered something. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. “Sorry, but your time is up. You will have to leave.” Roger had disappointment all over his face. She said, “I must get this place straightened in time for the next patient. You do understand, don’t you?” “Sure, Doctor.” He then fumbled for the wallet in his still lowered pants. “Just how much do I owe you for that wonderful session?” She smiled © warmly —_ and affectionately. “You owe me nothing. Just seeing you so happy, so confident, so cured, is payment enough. Just pull up your pants and tuck in your cock and go. She then pushed him gently, but firmly, in the direction of the doorway. Roger left happily, singing softly, quite proud of his accomplishment. Especially since it did not cost him a damn penny. She was smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt when the short, balding, fat man walked in and called her name. “Susan! Haff you been naughty again? How many times haff I told you not to wear that white coat? He shook his head and motioned with his head for her to lay on the couch. “No, Susan, tell me wot you haff been up to since our last talk.” Oh yes, he spoke with a Viennese accent. 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There should be another way. Richard Brooks asserts, “There probably are alternatives, but we are a very peculiar society. We fantasize about how to do it, but we're even afraid of people saying hello to us for fear that they’re going to want something. Why can’t we just walk up to somebody and say, “Hello, how are you?” “There are no meeting places. That why people go to the singles’ bars. We don’t have parks anymore; we're afraid to go to a park. We're afraid to go toa concert. We have the television now, so we don’t go anywhere — we just watch the box. But television doesn’t deal with these subjects either. “Yes, there ought to be places where we can meet. There ought to be places where we can say hello, It’s too bad that we're nervous and suspicious, but we are. We're self-conscious — especially about sex. We're always a little worried that there’s something peculiar, some- thing nerve-wracking about it. You can’t meet people by computer. 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VB-1 Wife Swapping Party | VB-2 Integrated Intercourse VB-3 Sizzling Sex Scenes VB-5 Candy & Dick least 19 years of age! AccT,| NO. yO) [TTI INTERBANK NO. Mastercharge Only (The number over your Name) Exp. Date: Mo. Signature: Print Your Name: Address: . TOTAL ENCLOSED (or Charged) Cit DIVERSE INDUSTRIES, IN ept.**1° e Van Nuys, Ca. 91406 A sizzling solo ~~ performance,» 1 2 . THUS | Is Matertainment! DUGENT PUBLISHING CORP. 316 ARAGON AVENUE CORAL GABLES, FL 33134 (NAME) (ADDRESS) (CITY, STATE, ZIP) FOR SPORTSMEN & HOBBYISTS Hand-crafted fine knives and other items for every sporting need: hunting, fishing, camping; for hobbyists and workmen. All Valor knives are made of the finest materials by skilled craftsmen. Workmanship is guaranteed. (Sorry, these items not for sale in Canada.) 1. THE PROTECTOR — Out- doorsman’s knife with many uses. Finely honed 334” stainless steel locking blade and vinyl wrapped 42" handle. $6.95. 2. ABC VALOR PONY — “Pocket-size” folding knife with 23%” handle of pear! (A), amber (B), or rosewood (C), inlay with brass bolsters and lines. Blade is hi-carbon steel. $8.95. 3. SPORTSMAN | — Fine design and craftsmanship in a small knife. Stainless steel bolsters, brass liners and rosewood inlay handle. 234” locking blade of hi-carbon steel. $8.95. 4. SPORTSMAN I! — Popularly-priced small knife. Handle is rosewood with brass bolsters and liners: hi-carbon steel locking blade measures 234”. $6.95. 5. SUPER SPORT — Beauty and utility in our finest knife. Handle is polished ebony wood inlay with brass bolsters and liners. 342” hi-carbon 440 stainless steel blade. Knife measures 4%" closed. $18.95. 6. VALOR MODEL 196 TEAR GAS AND STARTER PISTOL — Shoots .22 cal. crimped blank cartridges for starting athletic events or tear gas cartridges for protection. The Federal Gov't. has ruled this revolver is not a firearm. It cannot shoot bullets or projectiles. Italian made, holds 6 shots. $8.95. (NOTE: Tear gas cartridges not sold in New York, Califor- nia or Michigan.) 7. VALOR MODEL 119 TEAR GAS PISTOL —A small pistol, shoots .22 cal. tear gas cartridges for personal protec- Dugent Publishing Corp. tion. Not a firearm. Finest materials and workmanship. $9.95. 8. HANDCUFFS — Quality handcuff set in high-polished chrome with two keys. Safety stop for wrist protection. $8.95. Fitted leather cases available for all knives at $5.00 each. 316 Aragon Ave., Coral Gables, Fla. 33134 Please send me the items checked. Enclosed is check or money order. (Please add $1.00 per item for postage. and handling. Florida residents add 4% sales tax.) 1. The Protector @ $6.95 2. Valor Pony @ $8.95 A. Pearl inlay B. Ebony inlay C. Rosewood inlay 3. Sportsman | @ $8.95 4. Sportsman II @ $6.95 5. Super Sport @ $18.95 Name 6. Model 196 Tear Gas Pistol @ $7.95 7. Model 119 Tear Gas Pistol @ $9.95 8. 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