Contour Contact

In these parlous days of juvenile delinquency, taxation, motor ping, piston ring slap, receding hairline, the high cost (in time, money and energy) of serial or simultaneous seductions and other assorted despairs and doldrums, the average bachelor must either contemplate marriage (with whatever grace he can muster for the occasion), or find some additional outlet for the head of steam built up by encountering frustration on every hand. Release may, of course, be found in hitting people, or in hitting the bottle. There is, however, another and sadly undervalued means for discharging pent-up emotion, one which is benign, gentle, enjoyable, and of undoubted (if peripheral) social value. It is the gentle art of contour contact, a neglected ornament to the interplay of the sexes, and a relaxing amusement which not only spreads good will but is also hygienic and economical. However, like all pleasurable activities, it demands of its participants a decent grasp of its techniques. Some notes on these may be in order for the serious student who would perfect himself in the discipline.

First, what is contour contact, or C.C., as it is called? C.C. is the act of enjoying touching and caressing, stroking and patting, sometimes even gently pinching, the contours of the female anatomy. This may or may not lead--uh--beyond, but it can be an end in itself and at any rate makes a nice supplement to more involved and energetic activity. It may be enjoyed in public or private, overtly or covertly, at any season of the year, and by anyone who has a grasp of its rules and procedures. Some people, as will be seen, are natural C.C. types; these require nothing in the way of instruction, and, additionally, merit our esteem, nicely tinged with envy.

You've seen them operate--everyone has. Take the case of Bill Fentriss. Follow him through a day. Bill is the man who, on commuter train or bus or trolley, always manages to sit or stand beside a gorgeous doll. Usually, they're crowded close together. C.C. is inevitable under the circumstances. You and I, on the other hand, untutored in C.C. may well be crowded against fellow men, and while this is C.C. under the dictionary definition, it is spelled C.C., not C.C. and does not count.

Fentriss and the elevator girl in his office building don't exchange many words, but he manages to accord various parts of her anatomy the fluttering attention of his hands as he rides to his floor. Sometimes a beauteous secretary is also a passenger. Fentriss, faced with a hard choice, never hesitates. He goes for both, managing to get between the elevator girl and the secretary, and then he is a very busy C.C. man indeed.

Around the office, Fentriss is on good C.C. terms with all the best-looking girls. He massages the shoulders of this one, puts his arm around the waist of another as they walk down the hall, bends over the desk of a third to consult a paper thereon and manages to have his arm around her shoulders, etc.

At office parties, Fentriss really gets around with his C.C. work, but we will skip them, since they aren't daily occurences. But at lunch there's the restaurant hostess who comes in for her share, and then the waitress. Fentriss is, above all, impartial, provided the ladies are adequately pulchritudinous.

Back at the office again, there always seems to be some reason for Fentriss to be in the filing room when the best looking file clerk is bent over a lower drawer. He drapes himself gracefully over the file cabinet and peers down at her flushed face and etc., while offering solicitude for the difficulty of her work. Then, with a weary sigh, he reluctantly goes back to his duty, i.e., he must crowd past her to get at another file. This he does apologetically, with C.C. occurring en route and round trip.

Some girl gets a kiss from Fentriss every day. There's the one who's just engaged. The one leaving on vacation. The birthday girl. The girl just back from vacation. The former employee visiting old friends. The girl who's leaving to be married. They all get bussed by Bill.

After work, it's the same. All Mrs. Fentriss' women friends who pass muster on looks are greeted warmly when they come to visit with their husbands, or when the Fentrisses go visiting. Bill is also the chap who chivalrously takes home the odd female from every gathering -- if she qualifies. His chivalry doesn't stop there, either. He's a great one for helping girls on and off with their coats, and he practically lifts them into and out of taxis. He is the soul of consideration in other circumstances, too: if an automobile or car is crowded, he always seems to be in a position to offer his lap to the prettiest girl.

To tell the complete story of Bill Fentriss and his C.C. activity would tax these pages, but some surrounding data is needed for even a partial study. This is provided by other guys who have observed his skill and tried to do likewise. On investigation, they all turn out to be as physically attractive as Bill, or more so, and as pleasant in speech, deportment, dress, manner. Yet, when it comes to C.C., they are failures every one. Testimony to the fact is apparent in their recollections of rebuffs, ranging from gentle reprimand, through harsh rebuke, to shame-provoking ridicule, and on to physical punishment (a slap, even a black eye). What has Bill got that they haven't? Before we examine this fascinating question, it behooves us to go into greater detail concerning C.C.

Ernie Bushmiller, the cartoonist, once did a drawing of an artist, before whom a beautiful nude model was posing, who ignored her to gaze hungrily out of the window at the ankle of a fully-clothed girl passing by. The phenomenon, in one form or other, is common, and has a lot to do with C.C. For the fact is that the way girls these days dress, walk, sit, stand, talk, do their hair, apply make-up, use perfume, laugh, smile, work--what will you--is calculated to be stimulating to the human male. Consciously or not, they are emulating those totem poles of sex (to use the Ben Hecht phrase), the movie stars. They are following the adjurations of advertisers, who have them convinced that they must give the appearance and total impression of being the ultimate in desirability.

And it works. Girls have never looked better in their clothes. Their southern exposures (when they're northbound) invite the hand of the esthetically susceptible male. Some poets might liken one girl's curves from this viewpoint to a luscious pear, another's to an apple, another's to identical scoops of ice cream, nested side by side. These edible analogies don't do the subjects justice, however, for this is not static fruit, it is human anatomy in delicious motion. From the northern aspect, one can observe what George A. McNamara describes as the phenomenon of jiggling, whereby certain portions of the female anatomy, in striving to keep pace with the whole, over-compensate in their motions, rising too high, then going too low, going too far to the right, and then too far to the left, all contributing to that complex and rhythmic movement which is so stimulating to observe. Modern garb has added a syncopated accent to the natural jiggle which is downright miraculous.

All of which points to the fact that, added to the natural form divine, there is now the stimulus of what we will call Modern Methods of Male Magnetization, or M to the fourth power, which is but powerful! It doesn't take much knowledge of human nature, mathematics, or chemistry to understand that, today, more than ever, M4 X C.C. = A Happier World. Add to this Bush miller's Principle, that a girl in a bathing suit can be more stimulating to the male imagination than one nude, and that one seductively dressed is often more stimulating than one in a bathing suit, and what have you got?

You've got Bill Fentriss--and you have the other guys who don't enjoy his good fortune. And now, we're ready to learn why. Three factors are responsible: Attitude, Approach, Technique.

Bill's attitude is one of frank and sensuous admiration. He is an esthete and a sensualist, not a libertine or sex fiend. He loves to handle beautiful things, which, by their appeal to his senses, seem to be asking him to. If he's in a movie with a girl, or sitting beside her on a divan in a restaurant, it's the most natural thing for him to take her hand, or press his thigh to hers. This is not a surreptitious pawing or a panting groping. It is a frank invitation to heighten the pleasures of the moment by adding the joys of C.C., and it is seldom rejected. Bill may or may not be directly sexually stimulated by C.C., but this is a side issue. One might even hazard that, in such cases, Bill has the good taste and the good sense to stop. His attitude toward C.C. is like most men's attitude toward dancing; the contact is exciting, but its focus of interest is not necessarily--and certainly seldom exclusively--directly sexual. One may suspect that other men's failures in assaying Bill's high score at random C.C. stem, at least in part, from a sexy, guiltily sneaky, or lascivious attitude.

Next is the matter of Bill's approach. It is direct and highly complimentary to the girls. What girl doesn't like tangible evidence of her charms? What girl can resist a demonstration of her appeal? What demonstration could be more satisfyingly convincing than to have the admirer reach out to touch and feel and pat? And once a girl has experienced C.C. as administered by a master like Bill, how can she resist a repeat performance? These all being rhetorical questions, we can go on to the final point.

The technique of C.C. is hard to learn if you don't come by it naturally, but some pointers may help the amateur or beginner.

Bill is a great arm man. A well-fleshed, well-rounded arm is hard for him to resist. When he sees one, he wants to hold it, stroke it, squeeze it not too hard but firmly. Same with a lot of guys. But Bill's technique is to comment on it in flattering terms. "Laura," he will say, "you have the most beautiful arms I've ever seen. They're downright gorgeous and it isn't fair to wear short sleeves." By this time he has the arm in his hands and is administering gentle C.C. Laura likes it.

One unhappy man once saw Bill, right (concluded on page 78)Contour Contact(continued from page 24) in the office, with his face buried in a girl's neck. It happened that this particular man had entertained secret thoughts of doing the same thing, had tried it, and been acidly told to keep his distance. What was Bill's technique? Well, this girl uses a perfume which is real wolf bait. Bill is hip enough to know that most girls apply perfume behind the ears. His technique with this one was to go near to her, tilt his head and dilate his nostrils, and say, " Jeanette, you smell absolutely irresistible. What is that perfume? Let me get a whiff of it close." And by that time he was in blissful C.C. with the damsel's neck.

Bill's technique, then, is to select some outstanding characteristic, one which he believes a girl is conscious of and proud of, and to be frankly flattering about it.

But technique alone isn't the way to the full enjoyment of C.C. Attitude, approach and technique are required. Given these, any man may revel in C.C., the sport which knows no season, needs no special equipment, doesn't depend on the weather, and can be played indoors or out.