Looking forward to the next few weeks, this is what you can expect to arrive. The first new book is likely to be Wet, my soggy little tome in tribute to the art of erotic peeing. Admit it, it feels good when you pee. Of course, in the book, it isn’t always solo pissing. There’s a bit of peeing in most of my books. This one centers on the subject, so it may just be a little on the specialized side for people who just care about ordinary, everyday fucking.
Now, if you read some of my stuff, you might come to the conclusion that I’m an absolute fiend for having pretty young women pee into my mouth. Not true. I write fiction, for one thing, so you’re just going to have to guess how much of what’s in a particular story actually happened and how much didn’t. I’m not saying I never indulge, I just tend to discriminate more. All pee doesn’t taste alike. All cum doesn’t taste alike. All pussies don’t taste alike. Hell, all bread doesn’t taste alike. What you prefer is a matter of personal taste.
I believe Wet should be out fairly soon now. After that, you can look forward to The Donkey Show, which is about exactly what it sounds like. Three male friends, and the stripper-sister of one of them, take a vacation in Tijuana in search of the legendary animal act. They even manage to find it.
I’ll admit, this one takes it to the outer limits even for erotica. Almost nothing I write ends up on Amazon now. Their standards don’t allow stories about incest, and they don’t allow stories that include people fucking animals in a night club. So why write about it, then? Because people buy it. When Amazon still allowed that sort of content it sold astonishingly well. Today, not as much is sold, most likely because the marketplace is much smaller, and a lot of potential buyers really don’t know where to look, or whether they can trust the seller if they find it. It was a lot easier before Amazon decided to give in to pressure from the moralists.
I know I have a tendency to include an actual plot in most of my stories, so that often my readers find themselves with a good bit of story to get through in between the fucking, sucking, and other goodies. If your sole reason for reading one of these tales is to masturbate while you do it, I hope I provide enough stimulation. But the next story, the one I’m in the middle of writing, may be fairly heavy in that area.
Memoirs of an Immortal is going to be a long one. It’s at 12,000 words now and our heroine has just consummated her marriage (in public, since that was the custom then). That means she still has well over 6,000 years of adventures to recount before she gets up to modern times.
I’ve been having a lot of fun with this one. In the earliest part I get to create a new civilization, which most authors secretly want to do, but generally don’t get the chance to. I did a lot of the work on this in The Gods are Horny, but there’s still plenty of detail to add. After all, I have to get Zara from her one-year stint as a temple priestess at age eighteen, to widowhood at age 36, when the Moronite god Oroyna catches sight of her sucking off her son, decides he likes what he sees, and comes down off his mountain, seduces her, knocks her up, begets a demigod with her, and gives her the gift of immortality and eternal youth.
Well, eternal mid-30s, anyway. She’ll be a gorgeous redhead forever.
After that, we can get her mixed in with history. Sort of like Forest Gump, except that Forest was worked into modern history, and Zara/Sarah gets to involve herself in ancient history. Who but a Moronite immortal could find herself variously at the royal courts of King Solomon, Ahasuerus and Esther, Caligula, Macbeth, Elizabeth I, Victoria, and numerous other important people of more recent vintage. I don’t suppose there’s anything to stop her bumping into some fictional types as well, Sherlock Holmes, perhaps, or Dracula.
You just never know where a story like this is going to take you.