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arionhunter Sep. 11th, 2009 11:59 am)
arionhunter Sep. 11th, 2009 11:59 am)Finally, a post which (sort of) alls for the laser cock.
Recently, there was wank involving Ravenous Romance. Being an, ahem, big fan, I decided to risk e-mail spam to get a copy of their current free short story, Handsome and Petal.
We begin with a fundamental question posed by the protagonist: "Could a simple male experience such superhuman sex without losing his marbles?"
(Warning: There is a Jesus joke in here. An "I Am Going To Hell" Jesus joke.)
I have to start off by saying I am slightly conflicted in mocking this. It does involve a plus-size protagonist as sexy, which I am very much in favor of. But given the metaphors (and situation) are themselves rather...out-sized, I cannot help but point and snark.
Brody the construction worker is attracted to Lily the pastry chef, a situation which allows for an excess of saccharine sweets metaphors.
Involving penises.
So then he, as they say colloquially "fucks her tits," which is mercifully not described in lascivious detail. Later on, Brody (aka Handsome) is out being a manly man playing hockey (OT: This morning I awoke from a dream involving a ferret playing hockey and fighting hockey thugs. It was oddly calming, mainly because I think the ferret was also an award-winning author.) when Lily shows up.
I guess so, because the next morning he masturbates while she describes a recipe. And then they have sex and we find out she's been selected for the "Yum Network’s big holiday competition show, ‘Dessert Triathlon.’" This is all uninteresting, except for this part:
And then they go to New York for the competition. Of course, the pro cook is an asshole who wants to fuck Bordy. Boo-ring, except for this bit:
The competition continues, Professional Asshole is an Asshole, and I don't really care. Until the author describes how Brody "[lifts] her off the chubby turnips of her ankles." So, ankles are vegetables. Okay!
At the end Brody hits Professional Asshole on the ass with a pan, saving the day!
And they all live "handsomely ever after." (No, really.)
Recently, there was wank involving Ravenous Romance. Being an, ahem, big fan, I decided to risk e-mail spam to get a copy of their current free short story, Handsome and Petal.
We begin with a fundamental question posed by the protagonist: "Could a simple male experience such superhuman sex without losing his marbles?"
(Warning: There is a Jesus joke in here. An "I Am Going To Hell" Jesus joke.)
I have to start off by saying I am slightly conflicted in mocking this. It does involve a plus-size protagonist as sexy, which I am very much in favor of. But given the metaphors (and situation) are themselves rather...out-sized, I cannot help but point and snark.
Brody the construction worker is attracted to Lily the pastry chef, a situation which allows for an excess of saccharine sweets metaphors.
Involving penises.
"Brody never considered dating a woman who didn’t slink through life in Size 2 dresses. He’d also never been in love; but when Lily filled a cannoli shell with creamy chocolate filling, wrapped it seductively in wax paper, and snuck it across the counter, on the house, he was smitten. His little petal’s name might mean purity, but the image of her beautiful, pudgy hand around the phallic dessert filled Brody’s head—and pants—with impure thoughts."Lily's apartment:
"She bid him to enter. A vibrant wash of color greeted Brody’s eyes. Walls of butternut squash complimented by cranberry curtains, with a ruby-red footed candy bowl filled with gumdrops on an elegant walnut credenza. The sofa was overstuffed, like a marshmallow. Everything in the charming apartment was a visual treat, good enough to eat. The air was sweet like sugar cookies."I think I just got a cavity. He also calls her Petal the entire story. Because, you see, her name is Lily, and...oh, fuck it. It and the dialog are absolutely idiotic and saccharine, even with the faux-fairy tale tone the author is going for.
“Lily, my Petal,” Brody said.And now, it's time for sex. Food sex. Involving what else but shipped cream? (Once, just once, I want to see a man's "meat" covered in A1 sauce.)
She caressed his cheek, which showed a wonderfully scruffy layer of five o’clock shadow.
“Yes, Handsome?”
“You’re more beautiful than a plate of homemade brownies, hotter than hot fudge, more
sinful than cinnamon.” Lily blushed. His cock ached in response to the redness on her cheeks.
Brody imagined similar color rising on other destinations across her gloriously sexy plus-size
form."
Lily drew a whipped cream heart over the hairy muscles of his chest and slowly licked him clean. Brody was aware of every pass of Lily’s tongue. When a lock of her long golden hair fell across his neck, he seized in place on her bed. As he watched her movements, feeling like he was floating on a giant cake, she raised a candy cane to her plump lips and teasingly performed oral sex on it. Then Lily hooked the cane around Brody’s straining cock and pulled his thickness into herY'see, the really fun part about this is that as a kid, every Christmas I was told the story of how the candy cane symbolizes Jesus. I can't wait for my Sunday School teachers to add the part about how "the hard end of the cane symbolizes Jesus's erect penis, ready to be fellatiated, then perform frottage."
mouth.
Lily’s nipples were taut rosy gumdrops, capping creamy peaks. Brody pinched one while gently chewing on the other.Other things this story makes me think of: Candyland! I'm sure you missed out on that part of the Gumdrop Mountains as a kid. there's more with the damn candy cane and her stomach, which is "pale and beautiful, like angel’s food cake." And then there's this:
“I love candy canes,” he chuckled, his warm breath gusting over the sensitive folds of Lily’s pussy. But Brody loved honey even more and, after spreading Lily’s petals, he found her wet with a woman’s natural sweetness.Reader, I threw up in my mouth a little.
So then he, as they say colloquially "fucks her tits," which is mercifully not described in lascivious detail. Later on, Brody (aka Handsome) is out being a manly man playing hockey (OT: This morning I awoke from a dream involving a ferret playing hockey and fighting hockey thugs. It was oddly calming, mainly because I think the ferret was also an award-winning author.) when Lily shows up.
Lily carried a platter of cupcakes with pinkMy goodness, how will this man make it through the Wal-Mart bakery section? Will he have to stop and go to the bathroom to "relieve" himself?
frosting and candied cherries on top that reminded him of her breasts, worsening the discomfort of his hockey uniform. Little candy canes and other Christmas candies decorated the spaces between pastries, along with a garnish of silk poinsettia blossoms.
I guess so, because the next morning he masturbates while she describes a recipe. And then they have sex and we find out she's been selected for the "Yum Network’s big holiday competition show, ‘Dessert Triathlon.’" This is all uninteresting, except for this part:
Brody joined her on the floor, licked her sopping pussy, and rolled another skin over his cock. Even Lily’s brand of condoms was sweetly flavored. Brody assumed by its purple tint this one was grape.Lily may be sweet, but I don't think she wants a yeast infection. Way to go, Brody!
And then they go to New York for the competition. Of course, the pro cook is an asshole who wants to fuck Bordy. Boo-ring, except for this bit:
Take away the meanness, the ugly internal toxins leaching through her pores and surrounding her in a dark cloud, and Corinne Zahn might have appeared stunning. But in that pose, and having gleaned some of what she said to Lily, she reminded Brody of a stone gargoyle leering down from an ancient European rooftop. Adding to the imagery, Brody retained enough from his two years of high school German to remember that her last name meant ‘tooth’.When some asshole hits on your partner, just remember your high school language course. Their last name probably means they're an asshole. Which leads this snappy dialog:
“Oh, fuck her,” Lily pouted.Oh, snap! And then we discover:
Brody, standing at the door to the hotel suite’s bathroom dressed only in a towel following his long, hot shower, said, “Not with a borrowed dick. I bet her snatch has teeth.”
“Fuck me, then?”
Lily tossed back the top sheet, revealing cherry gumdrops stacked over each nipple and leading in a line down the center of her chest to the bright red dollop of butter cream frosting piped in the shape of rose petals around her clit.How the fuck did she do that by herself? No matter because Professional Asshole is in the other room getting off on violent revenge fantasies:
Rubbing her clit in clockwise circles, Corinne fantasized about him denouncing the little piggy, devouring Corinne’s pussy and declaring it sweet while calling Lily’s as sour as salty pickles."But Dick kept eating the pickle!"
“Salt,” Corinne hissed aloud.
The competition continues, Professional Asshole is an Asshole, and I don't really care. Until the author describes how Brody "[lifts] her off the chubby turnips of her ankles." So, ankles are vegetables. Okay!
At the end Brody hits Professional Asshole on the ass with a pan, saving the day!
And they all live "handsomely ever after." (No, really.)
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I don't know why, but the next morning he masturbates while she describes a recipe makes me laugh longer and harder than anything. It also strikes me as kind of, I don't know, kinkily pathetic and touching.
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And my brain just ... doesn't know what to do with the world, after that.
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(Naturally, I came to you first as the likeliest candidate)
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It's actually from a magazine put out in the late 70s called Stud. I'm sure you can guess at the content.
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*goes to read your entry more carefully*
(I think my favourite part of that image is the, uh, disembodied vulva's carefully rendered asshole.)
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