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It's payday. The sun is shining. I'm going home.
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It seems hard to believe, especially here in our jetpackless 21st century, but once upon a time America's dreams for the stars were wet and we collectively yearned to go down on the final frontier with the earnest vigor of a horny adolescent. It was in this enviornment that glimpses of 'All Tomorrows Parties' were being previewed through a thriving erotic science fiction paperback market. I'm not sure of the 'hows' and 'whys' of it, but my guess is that there must've been this Baby-Boomer Atomic Age Space Race fueled optimism mixed with the waking libido of the Age of Aquarius. The result was visions of intergalactic free love, where swinging Mod astronauts learned the secrets of zero gravity tantra from green skinned space amazons.

It was as if the future was winking at us coyly from the depths of the waiting stars.

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"Sportswear for swingers"

Behold the Atomic Age Swinger! These proto-kink hepcats knew the score back then. No dressing up like an oversized horny teddybear, no Japanese rope tricks, no sticking steel hooks through the back of a viagra induced sex-midget and hanging hir from the ceiling to be spanked like a naughty pinata... no sir, all our Mr.Wrangler needs is a few yards of rope, a little Frankie on the hi-fi, a few 'goofball' spiked martini's and a mod French maid.
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Things to do in Atlanta on a Friday night!

"Pssst... hey, hey you! Yeah you! I know what-cher-yer-lookin'-fer man... a no-questions asked good time, am I right? Yeah that's what I thought. But first things first: You ain't no 5-0 are you? You know you gotta tell me if you are! A'right, a'right be cool ... i'm jes checkin'. So you wanna know what the real deal is on a Friday night? You wanna know the scoop, the score and the straight-dope?

Check this shit out, Daddy-O!

Okay all you Hipsters, Cads & Kitty-Kat's, for the ferociously full Sized, Sultry & Sin-Tillating version click here!

"How many faces passing you in the street are hungry with loneliness? How many poor human creatures like you and me are trapped into desperate measures to escape the pain of being always alone! Perhaps you'll understand better when you know my life story and why ... "I JOINED A TEEN-AGE SEX CLUB!"

From the classic First Love Illustrated #13, 1951!

Which reminds me, isn't there a Society event being held tonight behind a certain Red Door?
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Hello... pleased to meet you ... hope you've guessed my name? Noooo, that's not it, guess again... nope... man that's not even close....okay, okay look it's Rob alright! Sweet Baby Anti-Christ you're thick!

*ahem* Anyway welcome to Retro-Kink a weekly series highlighting the long lost joys of Atomic Age Play Partys! First up is one of America's favorite boogeymen... the Old School Satanist (unless you live in a red state: Then it's still Gay people who want to get married).

Back before Reaganomics era Heavy Metal turned Satanism into a transvestite cock rock free for all, the Adversary was one happening cat and his mortal minions were throwing cocktail black masses across the nation 'Rat-Pack' style!

Anton L. getting down with the Candyman!

These were the Go-Go days of Satanism and no self respecting swinger would be caught dead without having some Les Baxter on the hi-fi, a martini in his hand and sporting a daper black opera cape with a horned skull cap attached to it. Soon, thanks to the space age miracle of 'Goof-balls', you could find your bachelor pad lounge filled with drugged out occultist kitty-kats, some prone to passing out on top of your fireplace! Good times, good times indeed!

abandon all hope all ye who click here! )


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September 2016

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