Woody Allen once said that sex was the most fun he'd ever had without laughing. But laughing and sex are not mutually exclusive. Horniness brings on undignified behaviour, and it is all the more fun if we are in on the joke. This blog is a celebration of the funny side of sex and the sexy side of humour. As an author of erotic stories I like to show that sex is more fun when it is playful and silly.
Hilarious and hot, here's one about a shy boy and comic-book heroes.
On the outside Wyatt is shy and geeky Inside Wyatt’s a bit freaky and likes it kinky. Brian’s nice, charming, and hot as hell That stud makes Wyatt’s dick Swell An invite to a costume party Wyatt can’t refuse Was there actually a party or is it just a ruse Wyatt gets a shock when he isn’t allowed to leave The night is full of surprises that he can’t believe
I love the writing style in this first book about Wyatt and Brian, Moltenman and Darkfist, Dirty Zero. The seriously sexy passages are occasionally shafted by hilariously über-real reflections such as who is lying in the wet spot. Brian is perhaps a tad too gorgeous and bold for realism but other characters including incidental women are believable people.
This is a laugh out loud funny story as well as a steamy set of sex scenes. Because of the layout of Smashwords profiles, I didn't realise at first that the short description is a poem - what a typically funny touch from someone with a great writing talent and a sense of humour as well.
For more funny gay erotica check out Kyle's Smashword page. All of his ebooks are currently free.
I'm always looking for writers with a playful, humorous approach to erotica. That's the kind of stories I like to write, but it is also what I like to read. So I am glad that I've happened upon Nikki Palmer. She doesn't only write humorous erotic, she writes a lot of more serious stories too, but anyone who likes my stories should definitely read her collection Giggles, Grins and 'Gasms which brings together six of her more light-hearted stories.
I really love this book! To me sexy stories are sexier when they are funny and playful. Nikki Palmer certainly delivers some erotically described sexual encounters, but the sexiest thing about these short stories is the cheeky nature of their heroines and anti-heroines. Two of the lead characters are nasty pieces of work, but by the end of their stories I'd developed a soft spot in my heart even for them. And I fell almost instantly in love with the other four female protagonists who either pursue their particular erotic desires with cheerful enthusiasm or surrender themselves to an ultimately rapturous sexual experience with a kind of wide-eyed innocence.
Nikki Palmer has a way of softening this reader's heart while stiffening his...err, resolve to seek out more of her writing.
The Stories
Rose and the Alien
Comedy based around aliens taking what humans say too literally is nothing new, but this story still made me laugh. And, perhaps more importantly, I found it very sexy, not because of the alien - who is pretty unemotional about the idea of having sex with a human - but because of Rose's dedication to pursuing her own pleasure untroubled by the unconventional nature of the satisfier of her needs. And the story has a plot twist which had me practically clapping my hands in glee.
Kara the Slave
This is not at all a believable story. Kara supposedly acts out of fear and yet seems happy and relaxed about her situation. But that's part of the fun of the story. It's like a cartoon. And the predictability of the resolution doesn't matter for the same reason. It's implausibility does nothing to take away from the sexiness of Kara's all-too-willing exercise in submission.
Brenda the Bitch
There are lots of spanking stories but they are always more fun when the spankee really deserves to be paddled and that is the case with this story. Brenda really is obnoxious. Her come-uppance is satisfying and very, very sexy. But in the end she's kind of loveable because her uninhibited bitchiness is just going to require so much punishment.
Buttcrack Betty
I've always had a thing for the sight of a little female buttcrack so I was bound to be intrigued by this story. It's a imaginative story about a girl with a fixation on plumbers, an uninhibitedly sexy little romance.
Naked Natalie
This was the first of Nikki Palmer's stories which I read before buying this collection. How can anyone not love a heroine who just loves being naked and is amused by the response of guys to whom she opens her front door that way? Natalie is mischief personified.
Wham Bam Thank You, Pam!
Pam is not a very pleasant person. It's funny and satisfying to see her struggle to get what she normally takes for granted. But, in the end, I found her indefatigable selfishness kind of endearing. And the story provided a scenario I've since found myself playing back in my head as a fantasy - something which is a sure sign that an erotic story has done what it is intended to do.
You can find this ebook at Smashwords or Barnes & Noble. You'll also find most of the stories as individual ebooks.
CFNM stands for Clothed Female Nude Male. It is a popular fetish in which women enjoy the power of being clothed while a man or men around them are naked and the men enjoy being treated as sex objects by the women who feel emboldened and disinhibited by their power advantage.
This fetish seems to be particularly popular in Britain. Many of the most popular CFNM porn sites on the net are British. And, apparently, CFNM parties are quite popular there too.
Cassie Caine is a British photographer who specialises in the male nude. And she also writes CFNM stories.
CFNM Princess is the tale of Michelle, a budding photographer who feels there is a buzz missing from her sex life until, one day at a party, a man loses a bet and has to parade around nude in front of everyone. She photographs this event and starts to discover a special excitement as she finds him getting aroused by her attention. From here their relationship develops as each uncovers a previously undreamt of aspect of their nature.
This novel does go to some places that I would not want to go in reality, such as :
Pegging - a man being fucked up the ass by a woman wearing a strap-on
One's erection being used as a perch by a sharp-clawed macaw
But I don't mind reading about these things. I like horror stories as much as the next person. Seriously though it is a credit to the author that she can get the reader so wrapped up in the story and so on-side with the heroine that it doesn't matter if she sometimes goes beyond one's comfort zone.
On the other hand there are some scenes in this book which I found a tremendous turn-on. What makes it particularly appealing is the enthusiasm of our cheeky heroine as she takes full advantage of her adoring male victim.
Cassie Caine has another book out called CFNM Goddess. I look forward to checking that one out soon.
Forum Rejects is a collection of letters which Tom Nardone wrote to Penthouse magazine. He decided that it would be funny to write deliberately bad erotic letters and see what happened. Would they be accepted as curiosities? Would they be rejected? It was the literary equivalent of making prank phone calls. But with a prank phone call you know how it has been received. Nardone never found out how his letters were received. He never received any feedback. But now he has dug out those old letters and put them out in ebook form. So we can all share the fun and laughs that may or may not have been brought to the editors of Penthouse by Nardone's special brand of humour.
The book (which is available for free from Smashwords) contains ten letters, all ostensibly written by different characters - 1 woman and 9 men. Each takes a different approach to the idea of the unerotic "erotic letter", from sexual incompetence to gross out to insane forms of description. My favourite is the second letter Louise at the Circus :
"In the 80's I thought that the curve of my television screen was about as curved as Louise's stomach. This was handy because I rented a lot of porn movies and whenever they zoomed in on the woman stomach I felt the curve of the screen and the stomach matched really well. It would get me very hot. I'll never get one of those flat TV's. I don't care if the resolution is better."
"Her breast weren't like fat elephants at all. The skin was much smoother than I imagined. It was like they were made from two half bowling balls but they were the consistency of jell-o. I massaged those jell-o semispherical bowling balls while Louise moaned like a broken vacuum cleaner."
That letter had me laughing so hard I practically choked, and the rest are nearly as funny.
The Adventures of Little Lorna is a series of sexy comic books that artist Julio Sinope has created specifically for the Kindle ebook format. He has released two books so far and is currently working on a third.
Little Lorna is a naive but spirited eighteen-year-old whose parents have allowed her to go on holiday in Mexico with Ol' Uncle Bob. Uncle Bob is not her real uncle, rather he's a dirty old man. And it doesn't take much for one of the locals to con Lorna out of her clothes, which leads to a spanking from Uncle Bob.
The basic concept of the Little Lorna comics is not original. Stories of naive young girls being taken advantage of by a succession of sleazy men are a genre all to themselves, and this kind of plot has been used in literally hundreds of porn films. Nor are the gags terribly clever.
But what makes these ebooks something to treasure is Sinope's artwork. Little Lorna is a delightful creation and it is all in the drawing, which captures her spirit of indomitable optimism in the face of every kind of abuse. And the images are so well presented that, as you flick from one picture to the next it often almost comes across like one of those flip books in which the progression gives an illusion of movement.
Resort Sports is a very short instalment in the series. The second - Love Boat - which I will review later, is a good deal longer and more ambitious.
Also, check out Julio's page at DeviantArt. Check out his blog, especially the oldest post which includes some wonderful colour artwork. You can also find Julio on Facebook.
This bumper collection of erotic stories by Kendall Swan centres around her "naked" series - titles such as Naked Housecleaning, Naked Cheerleader, Naked Robot, etc., but it also contains a generous assortment of her other stories, including some short realistic vignettes and some wild excursions into science fiction and the world of vampires.
The great strength of her writing is simplicity and directness. She takes you straight into the experiences and thoughts of her characters with very little time spent on setting scenes or giving detailed descriptions. Never-the-less she conjures up deliciously erotic images and sensations with great economy.
Her best stories, which include Naked Housekeeping, Naked Slumber Party and Naked Robot, are incredibly sexy because of the way they convey the excitement of a character caught up in a unfamiliar erotic adventure which opens up previously unforeseen possibilities.
While the stories may vary in their eroticism, all are interesting in some way, with the science fiction and vampire stories consisting of brief incidents which manage to sketch out a larger context in just a few details and imaginatively explore such issues as post-Apocalyptic sexual politics and interspecies sexual encounters in outer space.
Many of these stories have been made available previously in smaller collections, but this is the best way to get plenty of Kendall Swan bang for your buck.
You can buy it, in various formats, from Smashwords.
"We can help you lose a few inches!" How often have we heard that? Almost as often as, "We can help you gain a few inches!"
Working out and getting fit is often presented as the way to make ourselves sexy. The only problem is that a lot of pain has to come before the gain. And there is something puritanistic about this mortification of the too too flabby flesh.
But perhaps the process might be sexy in itself. When Olivia Newton-John sang Let's Get Physical she was suggesting something more than what Richard Simmons has to offer. Gyms are places where men and women wear skimpy or tight-fitting clothing, moving their bodies around and sweating a lot. There can be something sexy in all this.
Then there is massage. Even when it isn't just a code word for the old rub and tug, it can still be a very sensual experience.
If you are attracted to your own sex, what better place than the communal showers at the gym to check them out?
And the supposed health benefits of nudism should not be forgotten. Lots and lots of Vitamin D from all that sun on skin exposure, plus endless games of volleyball.
Long before the establishment of Playboy in 1953, guys were jacking off to Health & Efficiency, the British nudist magazine founded in 1900. I'm not sure what the "Efficiency" bit refers to. Perhaps the fact that you can save so much time in the morning if you don't have to get dressed.
Television's Trinny and Susannah go nudist
Although getting fit is always on my "to do" list for tomorrow if not the day after, I have explored some of its sexy possibilities in a couple of my stories.
In Chapter Nine of my novel Vanessa's Island (soon to be available as an e-book), our would-be reclusive artist hero David reads aloud from a lesbian fantasy story written by his lover Vanessa :
At first it seemed a bit strange to be reading aloud a story written in the first person by a woman. But somehow, knowing that Vanessa had written the story, I found it a tremendous turn-on. It was as if I was not just possessing her body from the outside as I had already, but from the inside. When she played with her body or the bodies of other women in the story it was with my hands. When she saw them it was with my eyes.
"'I run a health club for women only'," I began. "'Alot of women would rather work-out away from the lustful eyes of men. What the women who frequent my establishment didn't know up until recently, is that they were still being lusted after as they worked out. Only by a woman. Me.
"'Oh, I've had boyfriends and lived a normal life. My passion for women was secret until recently, but it was the deciding factor in my career choice. The sight of women working out has always been a turn-on for me. Not that I like tight hardbodies, not at all. But most of the women who come to work out are not like that. They think they could afford to lose a few pounds. I like them just as they are. And in the showers I get to see every inch of them.
"'Of course, I used to have to be careful to make sure they didn't notice me looking at them. Now all that has changed. This is the story of how it happened.
"'It all began with Samantha. Samantha was five foot ten, a brunette, with the breasts and ass of a swimsuit model. Watching her work-out in her tightly stretched leotards got me so worked up that I often had to go and get changed in the middle of a session lest she or any of my other customers notice the wet patch forming in my crotch. They must have thought I suffered from some form of obssessive compulsive disorder, but it was better than letting them find out that I lusted after their bodies.
"'I remember the first day that Samantha joined our aerobics class. How my heart beat hard at the prospect of seeing her naked. I always showered with the clients. Under the shower no-one could tell how wet the sight of their naked bodies made me.
"'At last that first session ended and I followed Samantha into the shower room, my eyes rivetted to her gently rolling ass encased as it was in sweat-soaked lycra. Slowly she peeled of the lycra and I tried not to stare too obviously as her soft pale breasts with their small pink nipples sprang free. Then she pulled her leotard down further, having to wriggle to get it over the swelling, snow-white cheeks of her bottom.'
By this stage my stiff cock was crying out for some attention. I grabbed Vanessa's hand and pushed her soft palm against it.
"Hey," she cried, "there aren't any cocks in this story. This is girl's only."
"But I need it," I pleaded. "I need to use both hands to keep my place with the pages."
"Oh, all right," she agreed, slowly beginning to wank my stiff dick. "You can be hiding in the towel bin, sneaking peeks at us girlies in the shower and jerking yourself off. O.K. Just think how the towels that surround your naked, masturbating body were used to wipe off every part of our bodies, our boobs, our bottoms and particularly our sweet little pussies."
I couldn't hold out any longer. Pleasure coursed through my body as Vanessa's soft hand coaxed spurt after spurt of hot cum out of my cock. It splattered all over the front of her leotards.
"If you think I'm going to take off my leotards just because you've shot your load all over them, you've got another thing coming," Vanessa informed me with a pout. She wiped up some of my cum on her finger and then sucked on it playfully. "Now on with the story."
"'I could stand to loose a little bit off of my butt,' she laughed [that was Samantha, wasn't it], giving me an excuse to look.
"'Couldn't we all,' I replied, frustrated that I couldn't tell her what I really thought.
"'I quickly stripped off my own leotard and laid it down carefully in such a way that the sopping crotch was not visible. Then I joined the rest of the ladies in the shower. I was so tempted to take up a position next to Samantha, but I thought that if I did I might not be able to resist the temptation to reach out and touch her soft, wet, soapy skin.
"'One by one, the girls stepped out, dried themselves, got dressed and left. Samantha was one of the last to go. When I was alone, I did what I always did. I played with myself. I played back everything in my mind, especially Samantha stripping out of her sweaty leotard, while I slid two soapy fingers in and out of my juiced up pussy.
"'This routine continued for several weeks, until that fateful day when Samantha left her car keys in her locker.
"'On that day, as always, I stayed under the shower, after the others had gone, and imagined what I would like to do with Samantha. I imagined undressing her slowly from her sensible business suit, kissing her nipples, kissing her lips, the ones on her face and the ones between her legs. I imagined her in her leotards. How they stretched across that luscious ass.
"'As I fantasized I let my hands wander sensuously and soapily across my body. The fingers of one hand gently tweaked my hard nipples, while my other hand slid slowly down over my stomach and through my pubes into my waiting pussy. I slid one finger in on either side of my sensitive clit. I love that sensation. My fingers glided across my stiffening clit, while also giving me that satisfying sensation of being filled. Only it wasn't some guy's cock filling me, but Samantha's long and versatile tongue.
"'I felt that delicious warmth glowing in my belly as I slowly sank to my knees, feeling the spray of the shower carressing every inch of my skin. I had been dying to do this all the time I had been watching Samantha and the other girls work-out. I loved playing with myself. But if only I could play with them. Give them the pleasure I was giving myself.
"'"For this next exercise," I said, speaking aloud in the heat of my fantasy, "I want you all to strip naked for me, so that I can lick out your pussies one by one. You first, Samantha."
"'My heart nearly jumped out of my chest when Samantha's voice answered me casually.
"'"Sounds good to me," she said, and I looked up to see that she was standing there in her grey business suit watching me blatantly finger-fuck myself.'"
And in How Meggie Made Me Hard (one of the 13 stories contained in my e-book Inappropriate Behavior and Other Stories), Meggie decides to take on the role of personal trainer to an out of condition delivery man, but her motives are decidedly self-indulgent :
I was a bit of a slob until Meggie took me in hand. Took me in hand. There I go again, whenever I think about Meggie my mind turns to sex.
It all started when I delivered her exercise equipment. When I pushed the buzzer on the door it was answered by an attractive woman in her late 40’s with curly reddish brown hair and a sweet slightly shy smile. She was wearing a light blue summer dress.
“Bring it all in,” she said, seeing the truck and realising that her equipment had arrived. “I’ll show you where to put it.
Normally I get the smaller things to deliver as I’m not very fit. As I carried Meggie’s walking machine through the door I panted and wheezed.
“I can see you don’t keep yourself in shape,” Meggie commented patting me on my beer belly as I went past. I thought it was rather forward of her.
I brought in the excercise bike and the ab-roller, then I was finished.
It was a hot day and I was tired and sweaty. Meggie offered me a cold drink. I accepted.
“Pew! You stink,” she said, proving once more that tactfulness was not her stong suit. “You’d better have a shower before you go.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I asked. “I could do with freshening up a little.”
“Go ahead,” she replied, “the bathroom is that way.”
Once I got to the bathroom, I shut the door and stripped off my sweaty t-shirt. I unzipped my jeans and pulled them off. When I was naked I turned on the shower and stepped in. Because it was such a hot day I left the water on lukewarm.
I was just enjoying the feel of the refreshing water running over my body and beginning to apply soap to me face, when the door opened. Quickly, I rinsed the soap off of my face. I mustn’t have been too thorough because my eyes stung as I opened them just in time to see Meggie opening the shower door.
“What do you think you are doing?” I asked. “Can’t a guy have a bit of privacy?”
Meggie smiled so sweetly that I couldn’t help but forgive her instantly. “I just wanted to see if you were really as out of shape as you looked with your clothes on,” she explained.
She reached out her right hand and brought it up against my belly, just inches above the spot where my hands were clasped protectively over my cock.
“You could stand to lose a bit of that,” she said.
“I know, I know,” I replied. “Now let me shower in peace.”
“You don’t have to be so shy,” Meggie chided me, pushing my hands gently away from my prick. “If I let you use my shower, the least you could do is give me a look at your cock. I like looking at guys’ cocks. Mmmmm, I don’t think you really mind me looking, otherwise it wouldn’t be swelling up like that.”
She was right. I loved the idea of having a sexy woman like herself looking at my nude body with undisguised lust. I had only tried to hide my cock in the first place because it seemed the polite thing to do. How was I to know that politeness was not high on Meggie’s list of priorities.
“I could really do something with that body of yours,” Meggie mused, deep in thought. “Oh, wow! Look how your cock jumped when I said that. You thought I meant sex, didn’t you? No, I mean if you let me be your personal trainer I could really whip you into shape. If you got yourself into shape, then a little sex might not be out of the question.”
In my mind I imagined taking Meggie right away, right there, just lifting up her dress, pulling down her panties and slipping my prick into her sweet pussy.
“Oh, dear, now I’ve really made your cock go stiff,” she said, teasingly. “I think you’d better pull yourself off. Then you’ll feel much more relaxed.”
“What, with you standing there watching?” I asked, in disbelief.
“I can tell you don’t mind the idea,” replied Meggie with a smile. “If your dick gets any harder it’s going to burst. Come on let’s see how a naughty boy likes to stroke his stiff dick in the shower.”
That was it. There was no point resisting. I grabbed my rock-hard prick in my soapy right-hand and began to wank myself off. My soapy hand slid up and down my cock as I watched Meggie watching me. There was a twinkle in those sexy brown eyes of hers as she watched me masturbate.
“Feel good, honey?” she asked looking me in the eyes briefly before returning her attention to my slippery stiff cock.
“You bet,” I sighed.
“Would it give you a bit of inspiration if I let you see how wet my panties are getting?” she asked, lifting her skirt and leaning back with her legs spread so that I could see the spreading patch of wetness on her pale pink knickers. She gently teased the area through the wet material with the tip of the index finger of her right hand.”
To feel my hot, hard cock in my hand, and to know that the sight of it was making her drip pussy juice into her fresh clean panties, sent me over the edge. My cock jerked in my hand and spurted a shower of hot cum across the bathroom floor.
“Yeah!” cried Meggie, dropping her skirt and clapping her hands.
* * *
“Now these are the rules,” said Meggie, “if you want me to be your personal trainer.
“’1. You have to come over at 7.00 ever night and stay until 10.00.
“’2. You have to do anything that I tell you to without question.
“’3. As soon as you arrive you have to take off all of your clothes and remain completely naked until it is time for you to go. (This has nothing to do with the effectiveness of the workout, you understand. It’s just my reward for helping you.)
“’4. You are not allowed to touch me in any way. That is your reward when you have achieved our goal.
“Sound O.K.?” she asked.
“I suppose so,” I said. “How will you be dressed?”
“I’ll start off the way I am, but if you do well, I’ll gradually wear less, is that a deal?” she asked. “I reckon you need to lose about ten inches from around that waist of yours. Let’s say that by the time you have lost two inches, I’ll be totally nude. Then while you lose those last eight inches you will have a bare-bottomed, hairy-pussied, bouncing-boobed totally naked trainer giving you the encouragement you need. But still no touching until you lose those other eight inches.”
“Oh, God,” I sighed, rubbing the crotch of my jeans, where my cock was once more making his presence felt.
“Don’t worry,” Meggie assured me, “you can have as many masturbation breaks as you want. And if I’m feeling really horny I might just join in.”
Back in my very first post on this blog I briefly discussed the Confessions series of books and films. These were an institution in Britain (as well as Australia) back in the Seventies.
Author Christopher Wood, who would later write the screenplays (and novelizations) for two James Bond films - The Spy Who Loved Me and Moonraker, wrote a novel called Confessions of a Window Cleaner in 1971. The hero, a loveable rogue and bungler by the name of Timothy Lea, related his picaresque adventures in the window cleaning trade in the first person, and Wood hid his identity behind that of his fictional hero by giving Lea the author credit. Many more books were to follow in which Timmy took on jobs ranging from travelling salesman to private soldier to icecream man. He even spent time in jail and as a member of a committee investigating the pornography trade in Confessions from the Clink. Whatever occupation he was pursuing it would always lead to a multitude of sexual encounters, many of them ending disastrously with angry husbands chasing him down the street in the nude or sexually aggressive women ganging up on him and fucking him within an inch of his life.
In 1974 Confessions of a Window Cleaner was made into a movie starring Robin Askwith as Timmy Lea. It was the top-grossing British film of the year and spawned three sequels, based loosely on other books in the series.
The appeal of these books is perhaps limited by two factors which, I'm sure, endear them to fans. Lea uses loads of colloquial expressions, some presumably of his own invention, others traditional Cockney rhyming slang, to tell his story. To those who are used to these kinds of expressions, e.g. a beak is a judge, a Hampton (i.e. Hampton Wick, i.e. dick) is a penis, etc., this adds to the amusement, but others may feel that they are reading something approaching Clockwork Orange when it comes to mysterious forms of expression. There is, however, something amusing about a book in which the hero plunges his "action man kit" into a girl's "spasm chasm". The other aspect which might alienate some modern readers is the political incorrectness of Lea's world view. One can look on it as a satire of that world view a la 'Til Death Us Do Part or All in the Family, but there are no doubt some who will fail to warm to a character who refers to women as "bints" and black women as "jungle bunnies" and says that the subservience of Japanese women is almost appealing enough to make up for the buck teeth one would no doubt have if Japanese. (And in the distaff Confessions series which Wood wrote under the pseudonym of Rosie Dixon most the humour revolves around farcical ways for Rosie to get raped or molested.) For some of us, however, this kind of bad taste has its own appeal, and the fact that Timmy usually ends up being the butt of the joke keeps it from being mean-spirited.
While these novels are no great works of literature, and are seriously dated by all sorts of 1970s cultural and political references, when it comes to creating hilariously farcical situations, Wood sometimes recalls even such masters of the form as P.G. Wodehouse and Tom Sharpe. Only sometimes mind you. There are also lots of cheap gags and run-of-the-mill bedroom capers. But the books are always a quick fun read.
Confessions from a Health Farm (1974) was the tenth in the series. As with all the other books it begins with a scheme cooked up by Timmy's brother-in-law Sid. Having recently had a lucky escape from managing one of the world's worst rock bands (Confessions from the Pop Scene), he has now decided to start up a health farm. A certain massage therapist by the name of Wanda Zonker has incriminating photos of Lord Baulkit, thus allowing her to persuade him to let her convert his country seat Long Hall into Beauty Manor, a luxurious health farm. The manor is full of secret passageways and spy holes. The horny Lady Baulkit shows Timmy around and also shows him a good time. Then Sid tries to prove that he is fitter than Timmy by challenging him to a pentathlon on Clapham Common during which both cheat shamelessly and also get in trouble with the police. Timmy has to go undercover at Bosky Dell Health Clinic to see how these organisations are run. There he has an erotic encounter with the insatiable Mrs. Chalfont and is so hungry due to the minimal diet that he is reduced to eating dog food. When he gets back to Beauty Manor he finds himself at the centre of various anarchic adventures involving sex in the sauna, overly-energetic Japanese nude masseuses and a mud-machine full of horse manure that breaks loose and runs rampant through the establishment. And everything comes to climax with a visit by Omar Gord and his fellow oil sheiks.
This is neither the best nor the worst of the series. But it is a fun romp. If it has any particular weakness it is that Wood seems to have decided to really run the rhyming slang into the ground. I love this stuff, but a sentence like "She has a large Mahatma Gandhi to pull herself together and though I fancy a pint of apple fritter I have to settle for Gunga Din because there is not an Aristotle of pig's ear in the Mickey Mouse" is too much even for me!
What is Pornetry? It is poetry which makes a pulse pound in your pussy or penis. And it is the subject of today's post.
Book Review
Living Libido Loco by Annie Player is a collection of 19 outrageously erotic poems. Often I'm impressed by a poet's creation of images and clever use of language, but it is only occasionally that I read a poem which makes me pop a boner. But Annie's poems slide so easily from the softly sensual and teasingly playful to the deliriously dirty that reading them is like being made love to, especially as she has a habit of addressing the reader directly. Now when she says something like "My lips sweep past your belly And curl over your dick," I'm not sure if it will have as much of an effect on a woman reader as a male reader, but, even when she writes about girl on girl action, I find the uninhibited sense of joy with which she celebrates the pleasures of the flesh intensely erotic. In fact, perhaps my favourite of all of the poems of hers which I've read is her Wank Wednesday contribution Default which is all girl on girl. In fact it is Annie on a hundred girls!
The book is divided into three sections : Sweetness, Choked and Food Play. Sweetness contains seductive descriptions of more conventional sexual encounters. Choked is a collection of very dark poems full of anger and blood. I wasn't as keen on these, but they are still a very exciting read because of the powerful imagery and emotional rawness. And the book is closed out with some of Annie's most deliciously playful poems all about smearing food all over one's lover and licking it off in Food Play.
Here is a sample from the Food Play section of the book :
The Circle of Love
The mess,
The stench
Wrenched deep up inside,
Drenched
Wench
Suggests it's dinner time;
Ravished,
You savagely
Chomp at my bit,
I love it,
You rub it
In disgust round my clit
And you lick
And you lap,
Your lips noisily smack
Together
You sever
The base and you hack
Through toppings
And pop in
Your tongue to lick out
The sauce
And enforce
My pussy to pout.
Annie also has a book out devoted to her darker poems called Gash. I'm looking forward to reading that, but I thought that Living Libido Loco being the more playful book would be the most appropriate to review here.
Whatever you do make sure to follow Annie on her blog where you will be able to read her latest ribald rhymes and keep up to all the other exciting things she is involved with.
A Poem
I should include something by myself here. While most of my erotic stories are very silly, for some reason, on the couple of occasions when I've tried writing a poem, I've been in serious mode. But, this is my blog, so I suppose I can post something which isn't funny if I want to.
Maxine writes erotic poetry and also posed for Girls Out West in 2006
Your Invisible Lover
I am with you when you masturbate
When your fingers tease your stiff nipples
They become my fingers
When your slick fingers slide over your stiff clit
That is the pre-cum-slippery head of my cock
The soft sheets of your bed that caress your back as you writhe
They are my arms and my hands sliding down your sweaty back to caress your bottom
I am your invisible lover
I am with you when you are naked
You are my stripper, my centrefold, my wank-fantasy
I love your body as it is
Your nude body is your gift of yourself to me
I will teach you to love every curve and crease
We will explore it together and learn the marvels of its ways
Feel my eyes caress your nudity, drinking in the pleasure of the real you
I am your invisible lover
I am with you in the bath
The warm embrace of the water against your skin
That is me holding you close
When you spread yourself wide with your soapy fingers
I am the warmth that flows into the depths of your sex
To ease away the pressures of a hard day, you tenderly caress yourself
But really it is me massaging the shampoo through your hair, stroking your slippery skin
I am your invisible lover
I am with you when you dress yourself
The softness of your panties as you draw them up your legs
Is the touch of my hands on your skin
As they encase the softness of your bottom and the warmth of your pussy
I feel the delights of your most intimate regions
All day long, it is not your bra but my hands that cup your breasts
The feel of your clothes against your skin as you go about your daily life is my caress
I am your invisible lover
I am closer to you than you are to yourself
There is nothing about you that I do not know
You can have no secrets from me
And yet you need none, for there is nothing about you that I do not love
I know the things you don't want anyone to know
But I also know many things about you that you do not know yourself
Beneath the humdrum struggle of your life, I see the fire that burns like the brightest star
I am your invisible lover
Blog Based Bards
Maxine likes to keep abreast of the erotic poetry scene
Here are some more purveyor's of poetic pleasure. I'm limiting myself to those whose blogs are mainly devoted to poetry. There are many others I know who write the occasional poem. I hope I haven't forgotten anyone. But, please, if you have any poetry on your blog or website, or you know someone else who does, please feel free to post a link in the comments.
Madame Sweetcheeks is a prolific creator of sweet, sassy, flirty poems. She knows how to put her readers in a naughty mood with saucy suggestions rather than all-out raunch.
Fridayam has two blogs. This is his poetry blog. Only a few of the poems are erotic ones, but in his other poems he expresses an original vision which is often very beautiful. For his exclusively erotic work, much of it prose, go to Fridayam's Erotica.
Pornetry creates poems entirely assembled from the subject lines of spam emails. William Burroughs would have been proud.
Getting more exposure for poets is what it is all about
Limericks
I love a funny dirty limerick. Often the ones that make me laugh the most involving guys doing rude things with animals, but I'll show unaccustomed good taste and post here some I've found on the net which are not quite that perverse :
There was an old man of Dundee
Who came home as drunk as could be.
He wound up the clock
With the end of his cock,
And buggered his wife with the key
There was a young girl named McCall
Whose cunt was exceedingly small,
But the size of her anus
Was something quite heinous -
It could hold seven pricks and one ball.
There once was a man from Australia
Who painted his ass like a dahlia
The color was fine
And the likeness, sublime
But the aroma, now that was a failure.
A much nicer ass than that of the man from Australia
We get the term Peeping Tom from a certain tailor who defied Lady Godiva's request that nobody observe her naked ride through Coventry. For drilling a hole and peeking at her nakedness he was supposedly struck blind.
But before and since many a desperate individual peeked in a window hoping to catch a glimpse of a bit of nudity or sexual activity. Generally they were not struck blind, but some, no doubt, were arrested.
Today, television and the internet not only make it possible for us to be voyeurs without paying such a price but, in the case of shows like Big Brother, we might feel positively anti-social if we don't join in on the peeping.
There are many websites where individuals provide spy cams in various parts of their house. Viewing these gives one a newfound respect for more traditional peepers. You can sit there for hours watching an empty room, or somebody sleeping, or, if you are really lucky, checking their emails while fully clothed. In these days when Michael Bay movies and video games have infected us all with Attention Deficit Disorder, the Peeping Tom still retains the virtue of patience, able to stay crouched in an uncomfortable position for hours on the slight hope of catching a glimpse of a bare butt.
In public we all put on something of a false front. The creep peeping into your bedroom window, however, wants to see the real you, he (or she) will not be satisfied with the PG version. The peeper is a perfect model of tolerance and open-mindnesses. Don't trouble yourself about the possibility that your nudity or your behaviour might offend.
So here is my celebration of peepers, in stories, pictures and films. Expect reviews of peeper-related movies to follow.
Peeping Tam by Evangeline Love
Peeping Tam is a free ebook available from Smashwords. Natalie is bored with her latest boyfriend Greg. Little does she know that her neighbour Tam has a crush on her. Or that Tam's bedroom window looks into her own. Tam knows it is wrong to watch Natalie fucking, but she can't help herself. This is a fun little story with a very sexy payoff. I look forward to reading more from Evangeline Love.
Baxter! (1973) (dir. Lionel Jeffries) is a movie which had a big impact on me when I was young. It tells the story of a young American boy with a speech defect. Roger Baxter (Scott Jacoby) can't say his R's. So when he says his own name it comes out as "Woger". He has just moved to England with his mother, who has little time for him. So he makes friends with his neighbours, Roger (Jean-Pierre Cassel) and Chris (Britt Ekland), and a girl who lives across from him, Nemo Newman (Sally Thomsett, who went on to fame as the blonde in Man About the House). A speech therapist, Dr. Roberta Clemm (Patricial Neal) helps Roger with his speech problems and ends up going beyond the call of duty when he suffers a nervous breakdown. It's a film which captures the joy as well as the sadness of life during adolescence, and really deserves to be released on DVD. This video shows one of my favourite scenes in the film in which Roger gets peeked at.
Vanessa's Island
Vanessa's Island is my major work, a novel, almost completed, most of which I wrote back in the 90s. I'm planning to publish it as an ebook sometime later this year. In the meantime, here is a peeking-related extract.
It was no good. I just couldn't get her out of my mind.
I was back on the other side of the island where I lived in a small cottage over-looking the beach. I had my easel set up on a slight rise that gave me a perfect view of the sea and the beach and the rich green vegetation that covered the island from the edge of the beach to its central rocky outcrop which rose to about 20 metres above sea-level behind me.
I was trying to paint, but it was no use. The large rocks that gave the beach its character, round and smooth from thousands of years of tidal erosion, became soft round buttocks. The clouds that hung in a deep blue sky became milky white breasts. And the bushes became...well, bushes.
Could an alcoholic concentrate on his work if he knew that there was an ice cold beer in the lunchroom refrigerator? I rest my case.
There was nothing for it but to pay Vanessa a visit. Maybe if I saw enough of her I would get bored and be able to return to my work. Desensitisation therapy I think they call it.
Now if you really think I believed this crap that I was telling myself then you're a bigger fool than I think you thought that I thought that I was. I think.
No, visiting Vanessa was not going to return my shattered peace of mind, but it would probably give me a hard-on and I was willing to accept that as second best.
The island was not a large one, so it only took about 20 minutes of trudging through the hot, white sand to reach Vanessa's place.
From the beach a cobblestone path curved up through an unkempt cactus garden to Vanessa's front yard. As I got close to her house I heard the sound of softly splashing water and realised that she had turned the fountain back on. This fountain, which had been silent since Old Man Ramsey had become too infirm to visit his island retreat, was in the form of a statue which seemed to depict a naked woman holding a vomiting fish.
As I approached the front door I noticed that the curtains on the front windows were not drawn, so I decided to have a peek.
All right, I know, I was being a peeping Tom, invading Vanessa's privacy. But hadn't she invaded my island? All's fair in love and war, they say. Which one Vanessa and I would end up engaging in I was none too sure of at the moment, but it had to be one or the other.
So I crept over to the window on my left, very aware of the fact that, when it is easy to see in, it is also easy to see out. No luck there, just the kitchen/dining area. Moving stealthily to the other window, however, I found that I was in luck.
This appeared to be a lounge room, but Vanessa had set it up as a room to do her writing. And there she was sitting at her computer, her back, thankfully, towards me.
What I found hard to believe was how she was dressed. But I'm getting ahead of myself here. Before I noticed what she was wearing, I notice the fact that her glorious bottom was totally bare.
She was sitting on a backless stool, over which she had draped a fluffy white bath towel. Her arse was even better than I thought it would be. So soft, so pink and with a light dusting of freckles over the top of her hips. I had to suck in my stomach to give my cock room to stretch himself. It was all I could do to resist the temptation to pull down my shorts and jack-off on the spot. But I realised that if Vanessa turned around she would see me.
It was now that I noticed what Vanessa was wearing. Above she wore a pink lace-up, Victorian-style bodice. The laces were threaded but not pulled tight, something which I imagine would have been impossible for one person on their own. Below this she was wearing a white garter-belt and white stockings.
This seemed a strange way for a woman to dress when she was on her own. For a moment I felt a jealous twinge as I wondered if she had brought a visitor to the island. But there was no sign of anyone else.
As I stood there staring at her lovely bottom and listening to the tapping of the keys of her computer, I noticed that occasionally she would stop typing and move her right hand down to her lap. Maybe she has to rest it occasionally so as not to get RSI, I thought. Surely she doesn't have to rest it that long, I wondered. Ha, ha, it almost looks like she's...No, she couldn't be...Shit, I think she is.
I moved in to get a better look at what she was doing with her hand, and my head and the window pane collided with a resounding thwack.
I caught a quick glimpse of Vanessa jumping up from her stool, as I ran and knocked at the front door, hoping I might still be able to salvage the situation.
When Vanessa opened the door she was wearing the towel around her waist. Above her pink bodice a rather large expanse of pale, freckled bosom was exposed, heaving deliciously in her current state of agitation.
"It's only me," I said, in the vain hope that, if I played it cool, she would think that the face in the window was a figment of her imagination.
"OF COURSE IT'S YOU. I KNOW IT'S YOU. THERE'S NO-BODY ELSE ON THE FUCKING ISLAND," she yelled. "BUT WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO COME PEEKING IN MY WINDOW."
Personally, I thought she was overreacting. Maybe a change of subject would help to defuse the situation.
"Why are you dressed like that?" I asked, remember that a person's favourite subject is themself.
"MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS!" she shrieked, thus dashing any thoughts I may have had to parlay my diplomatic skills into a job with the United Nations.
"I'm sorry I peeked in your window," I said, trying another tack. "I just caught a glimpse accidentally as I was coming up to the door, and you looked so gorgeous that, even though I knew it was wrong, I couldn't help myself."
This time I'd hit on the right formula. The storm clouds disappeared from over Vanessa's face.
"All right, you can come in," she relented. "But I'm still going to be mad at you for another 5 minutes, because you deserve it. I ought to give you a good spanking, that's what I ought to do."
"Yes, please, Miss," I replied.
"You're an all-around deviant, aren't you?" she said, shaking her head.
By the time my 5 minutes were up we were sharing a couple of cold beers at the kitchen table. Vanessa had changed in the meantime into a light yellow summer dress.
"Actually I wouldn't have really minded if I hadn't been writing at the time," Vanessa admitted. "I really get into the story when I'm writing and it's very frustrating to get interrupted."
"Yes, it really did look like you were getting into the story," I agreed, meaningfully.
"What do you mean?!" she asked heatedly, though I could tell from the smile on her face that she was more excited than angry now. "David. Tell me the truth. How long were you looking at me through the window?"
"Well, long enough to tell that you like to take a few breaks from your writing," I replied, trying to be tactful.
"All right, so sometimes a girl likes to play with herself," said Vanessa in mock irritation. "Any objections?"
"Well," I replied, "only that I couldn't get a very good view from where I was standing."
Vanessa can't have been very thirsty because she emptied the rest of her beer over my head.
xNovel is a site where you can download porn novels from defunct publishing houses. Be warned, a lot of the novels there are kind of gross - Nazi concentration camp stories or tales about people who love animals in a way not condoned by the RSPCA. But there are also some that make for a fun read. One of those is Jane Fox's The Peeping Neighbors. It tells the story of four couples and one single girl who live in an apartment complex. Vera Parker wants to try out on her husband Vance the sexy techniques she has learned about from her neighbour Sharon McNeal. But Vance gets called away to investigate goings on by the swimming pool. He oversees Tony Summers fucking Georgette Martin, the single girl from downstairs, in the pool enclosure. Andy McNeal is paranoid about his wife Sharon. She learns her sex techniques from books, but when she gives him a great blow job he thinks she has been practicing on some other guy. Charles "The Colonel" Kolby is frustrated because his church-going wife Gladys has told him they are now too old for sex. The only way he can get satisfaction is masturbating while peeking through a hole in the bathroom wall which lets him spy on Belinda Summers doing the same in her shower. When Sharon, annoyed by Andy's suspicions, plots with Vera to put an end to them by getting Georgette to seduce her husband so that they can catch him with his pants down, things really hot up and soon everyone is being converted, one by one, to the joys of swinging. Jane Fox writes with the explicitness one expects in a porn novel, but also a playfulness which is very appealing. The story is not very believable, with its instantaneous conversions from jealous spouse to free-wheeling swinger, but if you want social realism you're probably looking in the wrong place.
An eighteen-year-old girl is having an shower when she notices the middle-aged man next door peeking at her through the window. Feeling horny, she decides to put on a show for him.
The Creep by The Lonely Island (feat. Nicki Minaj & John Waters (these creepers are also peepers).
