HWA’s Sex Problems
The subject of his sexual potency was then raised in some detail. He wondered if he would be able to satisfy his bride,because he experienced a lack of stiffness in his penis. It worried him continually.
He mentioned he had been studying Masters and Johnson material, and they claimed age had little to do with potency. There were other factors — psychological, diet, drink, etc. Age, per se, was not the reason for the problem.
Well, I had read some of the Masters and Johnson material. Masters and Johnson operate from their base in St. Louis and have conducted experiments on human sexuality in every form, shape, size, and condition known to man. Religion, morality, law, and traditional values are totally ignored in their method of operation as I understand. That team of sexual experimenters has been widely publicized, and those who read widely will be quite familiar with their work.
However, what he said about Masters and Johnson teachings on the subject now under discussion was true. They do teach age isn’t necessarily critical. Or, at least this was said in one book and in articles I have read where Masters and Johnson have been quoted.
I told HWA I understood that to be so. He must have taken my sympathetic response for approval, because from that point on, he became very candid, even more so than before. He said, “I can see you are a reasonable man.” Well, I have lived long enough to know you had better watch out when a man tells you that. I knew I was in for something, but didn’t know what.
He began to tell me about his unsatisfactory sex life with his deceased wife, Loma. That was nothing. He had told similar things to small audiences — and particularly groups of graduating seniors in Pasadena and in Big Sandy — in quite graphic detail.
Of course, because of the work done by Masters and Johnson in the name of science (work which would not have been allowed in any state of the union a few years ago, at least above ground), many people have felt cheated in their sex life, and are, by the thousands, no, tens of millions, blaming their “loss” on “Victorian morality.” They have been made to feel, by end-time authors, that they need to be liberated from the “old morality” into the glorious freedom of the “new morality” spoken against in HWA’s own book, God Speaks Out on “The New Morality. ” HWA in that book lays down amazingly clear guidelines on the subject of sex. This book was used for some years as a textbook in Ambassador College, with instructions from the book taking the force of church doctrine, with infractions severely punished by church authorities. While some, who believed in and practiced double standards felt those rules were only for the naïve, most tried to live by them, thinking they were ordained by God and were based on the Royal Law. I include myself in this latter group.
On page 270, Mr. Armstrong brands “This love-making —’necking’ or ‘petting’ — this caressing — is all a PART OF, and actually the most important part of, SEXUAL INTERCOURSE IN MARRIAGE. Therefore, when indulged in prior to marriage — or outside of marriage — IT IS A CAPITAL SIN!” Capital sin means it requires the death penalty!
Then, on page 278, under the subheading, “Truth About Masturbation,” he writes, “On the other hand, masturbation is a form of PERVERSION. It is a SIN!” And then he elaborates further.
I wanted to quote from church authority before proceeding this narrative. HWA, himself, taught these principles from own book at Ambassador College for years. Yet, now, here he was caught up in the very “liberating force” he had written against. All of these thoughts kept crowding into my mind as night wore on.
Tales of Masturbation and Prostitution
When HWA finished describing Loma that evening, certainly came across as being the Victorian wife of deepest inhibitions — and a very poor bed partner. He said she we never take her tops off when they were having sex and would very often refuse him. He said many a night he would just turn over bed and relieve himself through masturbation, after being refused by his wife. Then he did a very curious thing. He said he still masturbated — he used the word — and the last time was about two weeks ago.
I was seated on the couch and he by the coffee table in a chair. The Harvey’s bottle was by now mostly gone, but he got up and went over by the end of the couch where his briefcase was. He extracted a small black book and showed me the last entry, in his own hand. HE HAD KEPT BOOKS ON HIS OWN MASTURBATION!
He said, when checking over the record, it occurred about every two weeks. For want of anything better to say, I asked, “Mr. Armstrong, when did you start masturbating?” He replied he could never remember when he didn’t.
He said he had never had any trouble with the stiffness of his penis until he was about 75, and one time when Loma was in the female superior position (a Masters and Johnson term), it had doubled up on him. That was the beginning. He desperately wanted to believe age wasn’t the problem.
At this point, it became rather difficult for me to buy the story that Loma was all that “frigid.” If she had assumed that position at age 75, I could not see how she had failed all that much as a wife in the marriage bed.
By now I was really feeling embarrassed, because I had come from a culture that just did not talk to outsiders about the marriage bed. But HWA didn’t stop there. He then proceeded to tell in graphic detail the story of his first experience with a prostitute. HWA is very good at describing experiences in graphic detail so that one can almost “see” the event he describes.
The story went like this, although I can’t begin to describe it in “living color” like he did:
He had been working in Mississippi and took a trip over to New Orleans. He wandered off the street into a house of ill repute, although, as I understand, those houses weren’t so ill reputed in New Orleans in those days! A “bad man” was giving one of the girls a hard time at the top of the stairs and had to be removed. HWA, who would have been quite young at the time, spoke kindly to the girl, who, in the course of time, warmed up to him and ended up inviting him upstairs. He described the subsequent event as being “very beautiful” and his first experience with a girl.
I wondered whether “the only apostle in the church” should be describing sin as defined by the church in such glowing terms, even if it had occurred nearly sixty years ago. But there was a glistening of his eyes that, coupled with the softening of voice tone, spoke eloquently of how fresh and sweet the memory was still.
Again, my mind questioned, frankly, whether this man was ready to “lead the church in revival,” as badly as it was needed. The time was 1:30 a.m., and with a full day on the morrow, I excused myself. As I was leaving, he asked if I would awaken him in the morning, and of course, I promised. It was my job.
I retired across the hall to our room. My wife Margaret was asleep, but wakened when I came in. I crawled into bed in leaden silence, with Margaret demanding to know what was wrong. She knew instantly something was amiss, but I told her to go to sleep, that I didn’t feel like talking now.
Sleep was slow in coming, even with the lateness of the hour. Finally, I drifted off into a kind of stuperous state, perhaps resembling sleep.
I woke early, dressed fully, and went down to the kitchen for a tray of coffee and toast and carried it back to HWA’s room. He loves coffee, I knew, and the motel did not have room service early in the morning, and not much of it at any time.
At the appointed hour, I knocked on the door. After a bit I heard him coughing and spluttering, and then he came to the door. When he opened the door, he was completely in the nude! There was no dressing gown, no pajamas, no anything. And there was no embarrassment, either. What if I had been someone else, perhaps a woman? You know how this can easily happen.
He asked me to come on in. I sat the tray down on the coffee table and poured him a cup of coffee. He sat on the couch, still in the buff, and downed the first cup quickly. Knowing how he liked his coffee in the morning, I poured another and offered toast. He talked, saying he didn’t feel well that morning, and continued coughing and spluttering, as he downed the coffee. There was never a move to put on clothes. I could not help noticing the very shriveled state of that member of his body which had been the focus of attention the evening before, and I couldn’t help wondering what all the fuss was about.
I had heard older men say, jestingly, through the years, that when one got older, sex was only in the head and nowhere else. I was more convinced than ever that the old folk saying surely must be true. Perhaps folk wisdom was nearer truth than the science of Masters and Johnson!