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Silverfoxesclub-digest In this issue:
-Fellatio Course - Lessons 3 and 4
---------------------------------------------------------------------- LESSON THREE: First Contact. Place his stiff cock inside your mouth but do not tighten your lips around the shaft. With your head begin a circle motion. The cock will slide to different places in your mouth as you continue the circle motion. Watch your teeth on this one. A kneeling position will suffice but it is also effective when your partner is on his back and your head is directly over his cock. The circle should be executed in both clockwise and counterclockwise motions in a slow purposeful manner. I found many guys in New York who seem to prefer this technique above all others. I met one guy who could circle a cock for hours and I found myself having multiple orgasms while his mouth circled my cock. I didn't lose my hard-on after each cum. When the technique is performed correctly it means many hours of unadulterated pleasure. LESSON FOUR: Surprise Hidden Under the Balls. With your man sitting in an elevated position and you on your knees in front of him lift his hard cock to reveal his balls. With your tongue find the underside of his balls. Now, while resting his balls on your wet tongue, lick in an upward motion to the very tip of his cock. It is permissible to use your hands in this technique. It is better to do this technique many times in succession - like licking a lollipop or ice cream cone. I grew up down south. And one thing about southern boys. We learn early how to get off quickly when the need is there. And the lollipop lick is the one technique in this article which few men can tolerate for long periods of time without cumming. Coming Next - Fellatio Lesson Five. The Twist. Return to Table of Contents to continue lessons.
George of Boston (Boston Bill)
Dear Bob, You must have a marvelous system there that you use. I, for one, would like to know just how it works, and how you found it. And I believe most of the others on the List would be interested as well. Would you mind explaining just what your system is, and how it works? And give Harley a big hug for me!
Ethan in LA
Hi everybody,
Thanks for listening,
Dearest Joseph, I'm so very sorry for your loss. Truly I am. We have all lost too fucking much, too fucking many, and it sucks, and it's never gotten one goddamned bit easier. It fucking sucks suck, sucks. It mother-fucking sucks. Thankfully, YOU are still with us. We can make friendships, we can make partnerships, we can become allies or find a way to go alone... and even enjoy the life that still exists for us. I believe those that have loved us would want for us to know the loving part. I appreciate your pain, as I have been there. It's a gut-wrenching, life-altering, deep gut pain that we feel we will never get over. Sorry to be a negative, but we don't. We carry that miserable, deep gut pain for the rest of our lives. The only helpful suggestion is that we can fill our lives with things that make this gut pain less common. I'm sorry, but that's all I can offer. And it's a terrible chore, getting from one to the other. Most folks will tell you that the pain will go away, that you'll replace it with new love, blah blah blah. That's very nice. But they don't know the depth of your love or pain. You will learn to live with it. You will find love again. But the impression that this magical man had on and in your life will never leave you... and he will always be with you. And you will always feel him. My hope for you is that you will turn these feelings of loss and remorse into feelings of gratitude and pleasure. You shared such glory with this man... Please, let that pleasure be his legacy to you. He certainly does not wish for you to be sad and lonely. He wishes for you to revel in life, to find joy, to know peace, and to find a way to wear a smile on your face. I hope that for you too, dear friend. God bless and keep you. You make my heart weep. [I wish so much that I could be there to offer support. I don't have much, but if I can be of help somehow, my friend, just ask, and I will be there. I promise.. I know your pain. And anything. ANYthing. Please just ask.
Terry in KC
It is worthy of note that Max Beerbohm, a young friend of Oscar Wilde's, wrote his 1896 essay "Fops and Dandies" in Rouen while Wilde languished in an English gaol (jail). It was in Rouen that Wilde had met his dearest love, Bosie, nearly ten years before. Wilde could not have been far from Beerbohm's mind when he wrote "Fops and Dandies." All of Wilde's friends were fearful of their association with him. It had marked them as possibly gay. Beerbohm may have sitting out the scare in Rouen. (Beerbohm's caricature of Oscar Wilde is attached to this post. For more on Wilde and his Bosie, see Silverfoxes Club Digests #64 and #65 at the end of November and beginning of December 2000.) in "Fops and Dandies," Max Beerbohm told a colorful story about classic fop Beau Brummel as a very young soldier attached to the crack Tenth Hussars. He "could not bear to see all his brother-officers in clothes exactly like his own...One day, he rode upon parade in (a uniform of his own design) a pale blue tunic, with silver epaulettes. The Colonel, apologising for the narrow system which compelled him to so painful a duty, asked him to leave the parade. The Beau saluted, trotted back to quarters and, that afternoon, sent in his papers. Henceforth he lived freely as a fop, in his maturity, should." In his life as an arrogant dandy, "(The Beau) patronised all his patrons. Even to the Regent his attitude was always that of a master in an art to one who is sincerely willing and anxious to learn from him. Indeed, English society is always ruled by a dandy, and the more absolutely ruled the greater that dandy be." Certainly, "the Beau" ruled in the heart of the Prince Regent for a time as an absolute monarch requiring absolute obedience to his directions for sartorial splendor. That, of course, eventually came to an end. The arrogance that had served him so well in his rising career finally, as Eliza Doolittle would say, "done 'im in" when he made the mistake of calling the chubby Prince Regent "fat"! Given the Prince's vanity, Brummel's Court life could not have survived such idiocy.
Ha! If that doesn't sound like a bunch of the more girlish gays, what does? The London public loved it! Beerbohm describes "how the mob would gather every morning round (a famous fop's) door to see him descend, insolent from his toilet, and mount and ride away...the dandy presents himself to the nation whenever he sallies from his front door. Princes and peasants alike may gaze upon (him as a) masterpiece." Beerbohm speaks at length of a contemporary-1896 silverfox dandy whom he identifies only as Mr. Le V. "He has not vexed his soul in the worship of any gods. No woman has wounded his heart, though he has gazed gallantly into the eyes of many women, intent, I fancy, upon his own miniature there. Nor is the incomparable set of his trousers spoilt by the perching of any dear little child upon his knee. And so, now that he is stricken with seventy years, he knows none of the bitterness of eld, for his toilet-table is an imperishable altar, his wardrobe a quiet nursery and very constant harem. "Mr. Le V. has many disciples, young men who look to him for guidance in all that concerns costume, and each morning come, themselves tentatively clad, to watch the perfect procedure of his toilet and learn invaluable lessons. "I myself, a lie-a-bed, often steal out, foregoing the best hours of the day abed, that I may attend that levee...The Master...is called by one of his valets, at seven o'clock, to the room where he bathes, is shampooed, is manicured and, at length, is enveloped in a dressing-gown of white wool. "In the third room is his breakfast upon a little table and his letters and some newspapers. Leisurely he sips his chocolate, leisurely learns all that need be known. With a cigarette he allows his temper, as informed by the news and the weather and what not, to develop itself for the day. At length, his mood suggests, imperceptibly, what colour, what form of clothes he shall wear. He rings for his valet--`I will wear such and such a coat, such and such a tie; my trousers shall be of this or that tone; this or that jewel shall be radiant in the folds of my tie.' "It is generally near noon that he reaches the fourth room, the dressing- room. The uninitiate can hardly realise how impressive is the ceremonial there enacted. As I write, I can see, in memory, the whole scene--the room, severely simple, with its lemon walls and deep wardrobes of white wood, the young fops...ranged upon a long bench, rapt in wonder, and, in the middle, now sitting, now standing, negligently, before a long mirror, with a valet at either elbow, Mr. Le V....There is no haste, no faltering, when once the scheme of the day's toilet has been set. It is a calm toilet. A flower does not grow more calmly." In this story of a seventy-year-old unmarried silverfox, Max Beerbohm communicates to us in the Silverfoxes Syndrome today a subtle confirmation that we have been around for a long, long time. We understand such hints as "No woman has wounded his heart," and the "many disciples, young men who look to him for guidance" who are freely admitted to "his wardrobe, a quiet nursery and very constant harem." Beerbohm once asked Mr. Le V. what the old man would "wear on Judgment Day. Seriously, and...with a note of pathos in his voice, he said..., `Young man, you ask me to lay bare my soul to you. If I had been a saint I should certainly wear a light suit, with a white waistcoat and a flower, but I am no saint, sir, no saint.... I shall probably wear black trousers or trousers of some very dark blue, and a frock-coat, tightly buttoned.' Poor old Mr. Le V.! I think he need not fear. If there be a heaven for the soul, there must be other heavens also, where the intellect and the body shall be consummate. In both these heavens Mr. Le V. will have his hierarchy. Of a life like his there can be no conclusion, really." Thanks, Max! That's the way most of us feel about our silverfoxes, too.
------------------------------ End of silverfoxesclub-digest V1 #181/2
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This city in Northeast France, where Joan of Arc had been burnt at the stake in 1431, was a favorite rendezvous for British gays because of its relative proximity to London, less visited by English straight society than was Paris, where they could lose themselves for awhile in urban anonymity and enjoy their secret pleasures without too much fear as foreigners of running afoul of the law.
Thomas Carlyle spoke of dandyism as a survival of `the primeval superstition, self- worship,' but Beerbohm saw it as "one of the decorative arts....dandies ambling down the Mall with tasselled canes, laughing in the window at White's
or in Fop's Alley posturing...with the devil in (their) eyes and all the graces at (their) elbows..."guarding "life from monotony by the daring of (their) whims."