Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Lady Jane and Sir Thomas: What Lovers Name Their Partners’ Privates


Heaven & Earth. Copyright 2015 by Fern Logan.

From the archives: this article was originally published in the Fall 1994 issue of Eidos.

Not long ago, one of my cousins confided to me that she has named her breasts “Sylvester” and “Tweety” for her lover.  Sometime before that, I was surprised to discover that my best friend respectfully calls his wife’s vagina “Lady Guidevere” and she affectionately calls his penis “Sir Cumalot.”  And for reasons entirely her own, my girlfriend refers to her backside as “Morgan” when she wants to tempt me with it.

It seems we men and women can’t help but find pet names for our privates in general and those of our partners in particular.  Two famous examples in literature are the saucy Wife of Bath and Lady Chatterley’s bold lover.

In The Canterbury Tales, the five times married Wife of Bath talks unabashedly about the many pleasures of her “belle chose” in her “Prologue.”  “So help me God, I was a lusty one,/ and fair and rich and young and well off;/ and truly, as my husbands told me,/ I had the best quoniam [quim] that might be,” she boasts.

And in a scene from Lady Chatterley’s Lover, this is what Mellors says in a rude Northern English dialect moments before entering Connie: “John Thomas!  Dost want her?  Dost want my lady Jane?  Tha’s dipped me in again, tha hast.  Ay, an’ tha comes up smiling!—Ax her then!  Ax lady Jane!  Say: Lift up your heads, o ye gates, that the king of glory may come in….  Tell lady Jane tha wants cunt.”

If ever two writers could pen truly bawdy passages, they were Geoffrey Chaucer and D.H. Lawrence.

Yet despite these great precedents, the question remains: Why use what some sex researchers call “cute euphemisms” in the first place?

For JoAnne, a 35-year-old software designer, the naming began with herself when she was a precocious little girl of about four.  She remembers being fascinated by the human penis, thinking it easier to clean than a vagina and more convenient to use.  “It seemed like the thing to have and I felt that I had had one,” perhaps, she said, in a previous life as a man.  Since she wanted to have a penis but obviously couldn’t, naming her own make-believe one, JoAnne thought, was one way to go about it.

“My father [an Irishman] was very poetic and he used to write a lot of very proper British type of poems mocking the royalty in England, so I had all these royal names for it.  My first one was ‘Lord Willywog.’”  There was a king named William her father loved to denigrate.  And to her, “Willywog was this foolish, dinky little thing that did absolutely nothing but hang about, had a life of leisure.”

This theme carried over from childhood into adulthood.  “The Royal Subject” was ascribed to the penis of the first man she dated after her divorce seven years ago.  (“That was a favourite for a long time.”)  Then there was “Sir Bonsai,” the name given to her next lover’s member.

“I did a lot of gardening,” JoAnne explained, “and I know that bonsai trees are handed down through generations and generations in the Orient.  And it’s something that has taken generations to become the perfect—what’s the word I’m looking for?—object that it is.”  She laughed.  “I felt the same consideration was worthy of a penis.”

Most of these names were used “any old time,” JoAnne said: while watching TV with her lover or after sex.  The Royal Subject just smiled in response.  Sir Bonsai reciprocated, calling her vagina his “Little Bouncy Bunny.”

Although JoAnne was obsessed with penises long before she met her ex-husband, she associates part of her mania with the fact that for most of their twelve-year marriage “there wasn’t any regular sex”; two or three times a year, if at all.  “I think it’s really unfortunate that so many people are so inhibited sexually,” she said, reflecting on her ex-husband.  “Even when they have had the same partner for years and years, they don’t seem to be able to relax and just look at [sex] for the wonderful, pleasuring joy that it can be.”

What many forget is that “it’s a give and take,” said Cathcart, a 33-year-old graphic designer.  “I find the act of lovemaking—of intercourse—very, very special.  So I’m not one to sit around and go, ‘Oh, I haven’t had it for such a long time.’  But when it does happen, I revel in it, and I hope my partner revels in it at the same time.”  Cathcart finds cute euphemisms a way for men and women to let down their guards and not take themselves or each other too seriously “during the love play.”  He also feels it’s a way to personalize a relationship.

Cathcart views terms like “pussy,” “hairpie” and “cock” as generic, if inoffensive, and finds cute euphemisms more appealing “for the simple fact that what is described between the two of us is between the two of us,” he said.  “When I talk about Huey, Louie and Dewey, I know exactly who I’m talking about.”  These names belong to a woman Cathcart dated for three years.  “‘Huey’ was for the left breast, ‘Louie’ was for the right breast and ‘Dewey,’ for obvious reasons, was for the vagina.

“I came up with those—and we died laughing,” he said.  “She was describing herself one night, and she said that she’s ‘dewy.’  And then all of a sudden it clicked.”  But he doubts Disney would have been as amused.

“There’s a secret to what you don’t do and what you fantasize,” observed Clifford, a 41-year-old published poet.  Referring more specifically to cute euphemisms, he said, “Certainly people don’t expect this kind of thing.  That’s been my experience, anyway.”  On the other hand, he believes most people use them.  And he considers himself to be like most people.  “Contrary to the expression ‘my mind’s always in the gutter,’ I think the gutter’s always in my mind.  But I wouldn’t call it the gutter.”  He wouldn’t call cute euphemisms cute euphemisms, either.  “I just say it’s private colloquialism.  I use the standard language of thousands of lovers throughout the ages.”

Terminology aside, such endearments have been an ongoing feature in his life as inducements to excitement.  “It was more part of the game,” he said, “the merriment of sexuality, the bawdy kind of humour,” especially after sex.

As we spoke, he recalled a woman with whom he lived for four years in his early twenties.  He drew on his Roman Catholic background to make their sexual banter particularly sacrilegious.  He called his testicles “Cain and Abel,” for instance—“because one hung lower than the other”—and her vagina “Mary.”  “Sometimes,” he said, “the cock and balls were referred to as ‘Father, Son and Holy Ghost.’”  Other times, she would simply say, “I want to talk to God tonight.”  In less blasphemous moods, she would call his penis “Harry” or a name he used, such as “Jack,” and he would call her clitoris “The Wiggly Wanderer” or her vagina “Jill.”  They would joke: “How about Jack and Jill go up the hill and forget the pill and water?”  

“I’ve never been in a relationship that didn’t involve emotions,” said Clifford, who equates the human sex drive with the survival instinct and the quest for God.  “Many of our cultural realities have to do with this incredible action, this discourse, this intercourse, this thing we call fornication—this whole relentless pull we have to be bound to another body.  And then the need to come apart.”

Even if Clifford was speaking figuratively, “there is no universally standard erotic vocabulary for use with a spouse or lover” according to a 1990 study by Dr Joel W. Wells (“The Sexual Vocabularies of Heterosexual and Homosexual Males and Females for Communicating Erotically with a Sexual Partner,” The Archives of Sexual Behavior, Vol. 19, No. 2).  Apparently, they occur spontaneously.

So if there is a constant in all of this, it’s probably the imagination.

When asked whether or not they believe it takes imagination to come up with cute euphemisms, everyone interviewed agreed.  The general consensus was that sex can be anything and everything two people want it to be, it just takes some inspiration: like the promise of a more relaxed atmosphere in bed, freer and frequent sex, greater mutual satisfaction.

Cute euphemisms help lovers feel more comfortable about their bodies and themselves.  And that, more than anything else, is reason enough to use them.

  
· Robert is the critically acclaimed author of the NBM Amerotica titles Attractive Forces, Stray Moonbeams and Great Moves.  His other books include the novel And Sometimes They Fly; the story collections Intimacy 101: Rooms & Suites, The Tree of Youth and Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall; and the memoir Sand for Snow: A Caribbean-Canadian Chronicle.


Thursday, January 15, 2015

Sizzle #64 in stores now!

Sizzle #64 is sure to warm up your winter!
Sizzle 64
Your Sizzle mainstays are back with new installments of Sweet Sins, Precinct 69 and Peanut Butter. Plus, we have two all new series we think you will enjoy!

The Lust of Us
The Lust Of Us

Love Gun
The Lust Of Us

Sizzle #64 is available now! You won't want to miss it.

For more Sizzle, visit  our website.

Monday, January 12, 2015

ANGOULEME 2015

This year I´ll be at the Comic Convention of Angouleme, dedicating albums and originals. Hope I can see you there.

Monday, December 29, 2014

New print from Magenta's Nik Guerra!

When you order $30 or more of books or Sizzle magazine from our site, we offer you a free special print, not available anywhere else. And now, we've added to our existing choices one by Nik Guerra of the popular, kinky and gorgeous Magenta, Noir Fatale series.
One beautiful pinup printed on art paper:

 Nik Guerra

This is in addition to prints we have by Kevin Taylor & Cornnell Clarke.
See more here.
Come and get it!
Unfortunately, as of yet, we only have the unsigned print of this. We'll tell you when we add the signed one, if we can, as we have available by Taylor or Clarke for ordering $50 or more.

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Dear Miss Santa


Illustration Copyright 2014 by Lamair Nash    

Fiction File Entry #29 (Sexy bits and naughty thoughts that may yet become full-blown comics…or something.)
 
Santa was checking her list thrice.  She put the candied pencil tip to her lips and toyed it with her tongue.  The letters from the adults were the hardest.  Kids—the kids were easy.  I want a train.  I want a doll.  Santa, please, please, please, the latest electronic gadget.
Simple.  See?
Not so, with adults.  When they stopped being childlike, they could still be childish.  They could be 18 or 80, and still want the impractical.  Want what they should not play with.  “Like monkey handling gun,” Godmother would say.
That last letter.  From Brahms, the farmer guy, who also sees love as a form of, of produce.  Plant some seeds.  Pick when ripe.  Sometimes, she swore he must have thought he was writing to his therapist and not the North Pole.  If he had a therapist, which he probably should.
She has a shelf for an ass and a nice round tummy, kind of like you.  A thick black woman, you know, side to side, with this big bottom whose cheeks flop like fish out of water when she walks.  But at that moment I was looking into her eyes, I could see the bile building in them, the calamity to come.  She was so sour, at that moment, she’d suck the fun out of an orgy.  I told her, “I can be trained.  I’m a good monkey.”  When she raised her eyes to meet mine again, my cock shriveled in anticipation. She didn’t say anything, nothing at all that was the least encouraging.  I felt like scum, pond scum.  Is there any organism lower than that?  She’s all I’ve ever wanted, since meeting her at the shop here four years ago.     
His was a case of nature over nurture.  Hers, too.  She had a job to do.  And there was, as usual, no one to help her tonight.  If you didn’t count the elves, which you couldn’t.  They never rode the sleigh since The Accident.
Santa mused.  Sometimes, there were worse things for a monkey to handle than a gun.
She stuffed the tan, batteryless, remote-control, feel-real, Taser-teaser-pop-your-top phallus into her bag.
Nature or nurture.  She sighed.  Sometimes, you had to be a little naughty to be nice.
 

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

It Could Happen To You, Too!

EUROTICA is ringing in the New Year with a bang, or two. This February, Spanish creator, Mapp is back with more plausible scenarios of sex and debauchery. Doctors, dentists, and wedding dress makers are all ready to fulfill your wildest and sexiest fantasies in this new volume. As the title suggests, with a little luck, it could happen to you!  
IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU #2
Mapp
The doctor who receives a visit from a chick who needs help with deeply embedded… love beads; the wedding dress maker hit on by the horny bride; the hot woman dentist who puts you to sleep and then into hot sexual bondage… hey, you never know, it could happen to you!
8.5 x 11, 48pp. full-color paperback: $11.99
ISBN: 9781561639267

Order now at your local comic book store using the Diamond order code: DEC141582 


If you haven’t read the first volume, order today for even more wild romps with luck!



It Could Happen to You #1
Mapp
Another outstanding Spanish artist from Kiss Magazine presents everyday situations gone very very lubricious. Suddenly a guy gets lucky with... a neighbor, a client, a horny woman wanting sex NOW! Fetchingly rendered by Mapp. You'll love his hot wanton women.
8.5 x 11, 48pp., full-color paperback: $11.99,
ISBN 9781561636075

Order now at your local comic book store using the Diamond order code: MAR111205 


Click here for previews and ordering information