IBWMW Smuts Up Dame and a Brave Reader Tries Zestra

The Zestra Rush--big time.

1.  In very squee-ish news, my article 50 Shades of Wrong: Erotica's Least Sexy Leading Men is running over at Dame magazine! Go on by, comment and feel free to share the living fuck out of it via Twitter, Facebook, and/or tin can and string phone system. I want that article to be good and sore by the time we're through with it.

2. Also reader Keppiehed was brave enough to try out possibly scary "arousal gel" Zestra (see also: Fire Down Below!!!) on our collective behalves. Here's her report:

First try:

As someone who can't smell or taste, I needed a partner-in-crime in this venture. Luckily, my best pal N is used to odd requests, and she didn't blink an eye when I showed up with a package of arousal oil and asked her to smell me.

“It's not like I want you to shove your nose in my lady parts,” I reasoned. “Let's just put some on our hands. I brought enough to share.”

We split the first pack between us. I even rubbed some behind my ears for good measure. Not wanting to ruin the validity of the test, I didn't tell her that there'd been some considerable online smack talk about the odor, or that the package warned that “the sensation may result in a temporary feeling of discomfort.” Being a great friend, I allowed her to cheerfully smear the stuff on, and we waited.

Results were almost instantaneous. “Oh,” N said, wrinkling her nose. “It … something doesn't smell right.”

“Be more specific,” I encouraged her. “This is for posterity. And a sex blog.”

She was shaking her head in disgust. “It smells like something's burning!”

I was disappointed in her description, since this had already been used before and was, therefore, boring. “Anything else?”

She sniffed at her hand. “It's terrible. It also smells like old people.”

This was encouraging. “How? Explain.”

“It's like they tried to cover up the burning plastic with something cloying and floral, like someone sprayed old lady perfume on a tire fire.”

“Tire fire ...” I tried to remember the exact phrase for later.

N licked her palm. “I can't believe anyone would make this for its intended purpose.”

“What does it taste like?” I asked. I licked my own hand but it was disappointingly free of tingles or any other sexy sensation.

“Metallic. All I can taste is metallic. If I don't eat a piece of the kids' leftover Valentine's candy to get the taste out of my mouth, I am going to throw up,” she said.

“Well, smell me first. Is it different on me? Behind my ears?” I asked.

She leaned in. “Nope. The same.”

“How bad is it?”

She thought a moment. “Well, I probably wouldn't notice it if you were just standing there. But if I had my nose buried in there it'd be pretty unbearable. I can't believe they made that.”

I kept flexing my fingers for awhile, but I didn't feel anything. The only thing that stood out was when I got home about four hours later my dogs swarmed me. They tried to lick my fingers and where I'd wiped my hands on my jeans, as if I gave off the odor of rancid meat. It was unsettling, to say the least.

Second Try:

Okay, this was the serious one. I was feeling as if it was going to be a dud, given my first trial experience, but I had to do this thing right. To be perfectly honest, I'd never tried a product like this before, so I wasn't sure exactly what it was supposed to accomplish or how I was supposed to apply it. The pack gave explicit instructions, assuring me that I was going to “feel more—effortlessly” and went on to say that it was guaranteed to “work within minutes by heightening your sensitivity to touch—for deep, pleasurable sensations, sexual satisfaction and fulfillment.”

Well, since I can't smell, the whole grandma/tire fire thing is a good trade-off for that kind of promise,

What if the Guy in 50 Shades of Grey was...a Leprechaun? And other really really bad erotica.

My Twitter friend @stillmansays sent the following missive:

"@Jill_Hamilton please write about this... Abraham Lincoln: Presidential Fuck Machine."

I dutifully clicked the link.

And, well, Holy Fuck.

Abraham Lincoln: Presidential Fuck Machineis an e-book about, well, I'll just show you the blurb:

Few people know that Abraham Lincoln was the greatest fuck machine of all time. His sexual prowess is unmatched in the history of American presidents. When he gets word of a nefarious plot hatched by the insane Emperor of Japan, he must learn to use his most potent power--the power of his cock!

Uh, what??? "Abraham Lincoln" and "fuck machine" in same sentence? Cock power as 1800s foreign policy position? Possible need for insane Emperor to do anticipatory waxing for diplomatic summit?

The book is on Amazon, and has one of those "Click to LOOK INSIDE!" buttons. So--of course, yes!--I fucking well did click, immediately. And I am so glad I did because, well, behold this opening:

April 22, 1863

It was a balmy spring morning and the White House was abuzz with activity. I rose early, as I always did, and paced restlessly around the bedroom. Mary looked angelic in sleep, so I didn't wake her. As I stripped my nightclothes and prepared to dress, I noticed that my cock was fully erect and ready for duty, most likely due to some dream or humour that had overtaken me in the night. My birthmark itched, as it often did as such times. At first I considered mounting Mary and using her soft familiar slit to relieve the pressure in my prick but she was never very agreeable in the morning. Do not judge me too harshly, dear reader, but I must admit that, at that moment, I had an overwhelming urge to visit Martha instead.

As you know, I completely adore the idea of people's odd specificity in their porn/erotica, and this whole Lincoln thing is so...exactly that. The reference to humours, a man speaking of his "nightclothes" and even, gak, mention of his birthmark--even worse, an itchy birthmark. (Oddly, I find the birthmark detail much more off-putting than the idea of a pantless Lincoln and his "iron hard prick.")

The Lincoln porn turned me on to (note to self: think of different way of putting that) a whole new world of weird-ass e-book erotica. Holy crap, there are all kinds of these short ebooks about humans getting it on with every manner of literary creature, both mythical and beastly. Lincoln, at least, was both real and a human. Something which cannot be said for the other romantic leads in this genre.

For example, at the bottom of the Lincoln book page under "Customers Who Bought This Item Also Bought" was the title...Snowballin': I Fucked Frosty. Yes, that Frosty. The Snowman.

Of course--of course--I immediately pressed Look Inside! but there was no snowy, snowy action on page one and I had to content myself with the cover blurb: 

When a boyfriend fails to fulfill his sexual duties, sometimes the only option is to turn to the cold embrace of a snowman.

"That is someone who is not looking at their options realistically," said my husband when I told him about this, as he tried with increasing desperation to move the conversion in directions far, far away from snowman fucking. As a result, I was alone as I tried to figure out how things might have gone down with Frosty. I suppose his carrot nose is an obvious place to start, but I just read somewhere that it's dangerous to insert carrots in one's orifices. (Can't remember why it was dangerous, just retained the salient point--"do not fuck carrot.") Though I suppose, in this case, carrot loss is less of a concern than genital frostbite.

I eagerly looked under the Frosty book's "Customers Who Bought This Item Also Bought" and found all kinds of crazy-ass shit, including The Horny Minotaur, Fucked by the Lake Monster, Bred by Trolls, Merlin's Magic Wang, and Bred by the Boogeyman. I never knew this, but there is a whole sub-genre of these "Bred by" books. "Well, of course I didn't want to fuck the Boogeyman, but he forced himself on me."

However I found myself most intrigued with The Horny Leprechaun 1 not only because it has spawned a sequel, The Horny Leprechaun 2, but for fuck's sake, it's about a Leprechaun. Not only that, but this particular Leprechaun sounds like he's kind of a dick. Here's the blurb:

Some Leprechauns are not so nice........

All Karen wanted to do was go to Ireland.  That is until she goes out hiking one day and finds the rainbow's end. Unfortunately, she runs into one pissed off Leprechaun who thinks she is after his gold. Now the Leprechaun wants payment for trespassing with sexual acts that some called depraved while others might call it magically delicious. Karen finds herself with a bit of a sadistic man who takes what he wants and Karen finds that she likes it.

"The Horny Leprechaun 1" also starts with possibly the most alarming book preface I've ever seen:

"Warning: This story contains oral sex, forced seduction, and anal sex" ...WITH A LEPRECHAUN! A JERKY, BOSSY LEPRECHAUN! [ed note: yelling typeface part added]

This stuff must be getting to me because I'm already writing a scene for The Horny Leprechaun 3 (maybe 3-D? seek funding?)

Karen: "Helloooo, I'm in my hotel....What are you wearing?"
Horny Leprechaun: "Green booties with curly toes, ya filthy whore. Now get ye gigantic human-sized ass over to me mushroom house and I'm gonna pound ye with me wee green prick."

Fuck, that's hot.

To someone. Else.
 
Anyway, I'm gonna go keep looking at these. Need to figure out which first: Goblin Gangbang or Cum For Bigfoot 12 ? Or maybe I should just go seasonal with Bred by Santa (An Impregnation Sex Story). Oh, quit your judging. I read the first page already. Santa's not cheating or anything. Mrs. Claus is dead (one of many of his mortal wives over the years, apparently) and Santa needs to have a male heir. Anyway, I don't want to, like, fuck Santa, he forced me--for breeding.

Or maybe I should just stop.  I just had the suddenly sobering experience of seeing "Your Browsing History" for this session and am realizing that for the foreseeable future, whenever I log onto Amazon, I'm going to see messages like, "Recommended for YOU: Taken and Milked (a forced lactation sex fantasy)."

Right. I'm gonna go now. 

xoxox
jill

(image: The Grinder by the beyond fabulous and completely strange Mark Ryden. He is also obsessed with Abraham Lincoln, though probably not in the "fuck machine" way.)