Vintage Porn Review

Sex Before Six

Tower Publications, 1962

Since the "randy housewife" theme has recently been revived in the form of a popular television show, it's time to investigate the seedy beginnings of this topic.

The perfect forum for these anti-heroines is the outmoded sex novel, a strange hybrid of morality tale and sweaty romp. These 35-cent paperbacks were abundantly published in the 1960's, though earlier and later examples certainly exist. It's difficult to tell who the intended audience is, since the sex scenes are generally weak and couched in euphemism, e.g.. his "manhood," her "lucious globes." The plots are undeniably thin. The average reader would, conceivably, be bored- as would the average sex fiend. Perhaps in their time, they provided escape for the very individuals who were their main characters- bored housewives.

The best reason to seek out this naughty nostalgia is for its often beautiful cover

art, usually a lush painting of a kittenish woman in lingerie. The titles themselves are also worth collecting.

Take for instance this volume, "Sex Before Six." The reader's first reaction may be, "Whoa! That's not right!" Upon closer inspection, it becomes obvious that the title implies sex before six p.m. The overwhelming sentiment then becomes, "Who cares?"

But the sex must take place before six because that's when Peggy's husband gets home from work. She describes Warren as "small, plump, and ludicrous," and resents their modest lifestyle and his snivelling adoration. She married him to escape "the drudgery of her job at the cigar counter of a dismal hotel." She, of course, is a hot number with a doll face and large, "impudent" breasts.

Peggy takes afternoon trips to "smart cocktail lounges" where she hopes to meet men who can provide her with furs, jewelry, and hot, rough intercourse. She succeeds, in a number of tame-to-middling sex scenes. Mostly there's a lot of breast nibbling and vague references to parts south of the waist.

No woman escapes these plots fully intact, however. One night she gets more than she bargained for from a famous producer and his vixen wife. They seduce her with illegal Mexican liquor and use her weary body in several perverse ways. Upon sneaking out in the hazy hours of dawn, she spies the producer in bed with "a young man in an orange nightgown."

Warren is furious when she returns, and her flippant, antagonizing attitude propels him into a rage. He beats her face savagely until she passes out.

The story picks up five months later, with a pregnant Peggy scurrying around their new suburban home, eagerly trying to please Warren . He watches television and ignores her. She is sick with shame and tries to forget her previous infidelity, but there is a constant reminder: Warren 's beating ruined her face. Her nose is now "flattened and pulpy," and her mouth "disfigured by a permanent lump in the upper lip where a tooth had penetrated with terrible force." Her beauty is gone and she is repentant.

Virtuous awakenings are the most common endings for these tales, but this one is particularly vile. The description of Peggy's battered face is so disturbing, it literally turns the reader's stomach. Why the heavy-handed, misogynist conclusion to this masturbatory fluff?

Aside from the sicko ending, this is pretty standard smut. Not funny, dirty or weird enough to be a classic.