This blog isn't about sex. It's about great sex! I set it up because you only live twice, once in your dreams.

This blog is a portal to the wonderful world of web-based erotic writing. It also serves as a filter: finding stories for you to enjoy without worrying. Use both the reviews and the labels to help you identify stories which will suit your tastes. If the idea of ‘oral’ makes your stomach churn, click on ‘romance’ in the label cloud. Use the rating system: from 0 for nonsexual to XXX for eyebrow raising. (Just your eyebrows will do, thank you, sheesh!)

And use the biggest sexual organ in your body: that’s your brain, dumbo! Which bit of you do you think processes the little messages from your nerve endings in a kiss and releases the endorphins that make you go Whoopdidoo! As you read the reviews and choose stories, as you follow up other stories from those outside of this site: Think before you Click. Come Home quickly if you’re not sure about what you find. Some stories out there are far out on the wild side because humans are inventive beings –not always in nice ways.

Remember too that these are fantasy erotic stories and so the sex is always sizzling. In another life, just being close to someone you have always liked is usually enough. They won’t need a 10“ wonger or GG breasts to turn you on.

Take care of your sweet self and enjoy your dreams.

Thursday, 21 August 2014

Mills and Swoon - a riposte

On a quiz show about literature, some critics were once read a passage of a book by Barbara Cartland. Proving Ogg's point that trashy romance writers are better wielders of the pen than they are given credit, the critics guessed all kinds of elite names such as Jane Austen before it was revealed that the passage had been written by the much-loathed popular romance author.

So, after Ogg's impassioned plea in favour of Mills and Boon (the American equivalent is called Harlequin), are you going to see me switch to bumping their hefty sales by recommending Fifty Shades of Fluffy on this blog?

Ummmm NO! LOL. Because Mills and Boon/Harlequin are a) not feminist and b) not erotica.

Recipe for rose-petal 
chocolate truffles
Now Ogg argues that the ole M&B are erotica, just with rose petals strewn along the way.

I have acksherly read some M&Bs, a long time ago. Even as a li'l kitten I would turn my li'l kitten nose up at the piles of 3 for £1 paperbacks in charity shops. As I was a budding social scientist, I sort of felt I ought not to do so without empirical evidence that they were rubbish so I duly paid my £1 (Cancer Research, darlings, a Good Cause) and worked my way through three of the things.

Gah! they were pants. I describe one in my Feminist Erotica - WTF is that? page, in which the heroine beats on a man's chest with her fists and after a bit he says (in a deep manly voice, I expect): "Are you going to stop that, or do I have to stop you?"

Good chest-beating outfit 
depicted on Etsy.
Excuse me while I roll around the floor laughing here! I tell you what, I have never had cause to beat on a man's chest with my li'l fists cuz I find that, if a polite request is ignored, after one Look a man will usually jump to it and get that effing piece of data analysed. But if I did, I guaruntee you the man would be saying: "Ow! Ow, for Fuck's sake! Ow!" It would not be erotic, so don't ask me to do it to you. No, not even in a leather corset. (The woman in the M&B book was wearing a flimsy negligée, btw.)

I think in another one, a young woman who ought to have been considering what university degree she might study was obliged to marry a man in order to save her dad's business. OK, I may have been prejudiced here in that I had to work like a dog to try to save my own dad from bankruptcy. It would've been nice if I could've just married some hot blade instead of being felt up by an already married elderly geezer with grandchildren - which I had to put up with as he had lent the business money. Probably marrying some guy to save your dad's business is romantic and lovely reely :rolleyes:. 

I read some Barbara C's as well. They were even more dreadful! cuz they were often pale copies of other proper red-blooded novels like The Sheik. (More on that one soon.)

C.E. Brock illustration to 
Pride and Prejudice 
from ebookfriendly
A classic M&B does not have hot sex in it, this is why they have developed the naughty Spice collection where women can behave badly. Well, so what. A nice romance is always nice, is it not? Indeed it is, and I have been thinking I should look for some more to review on here. M&Bs will not fit my bill, though. I like a good romance, such as a Jane Austen novel or film (list of top Jane Austen adaptations coming up soon!) What I dislike is to read a book that sells me wiffly waffly sentiment as sexy. Erotica should be about a man who will give good head. Romance is a wonderful dinner, a walk by a lake, sharing an amazing sunset. When romance is supposed to be someone saying in a husky voice: "I hunger for you," but not actually eating you out, something is not quite right. See, what I object to is being sold the idea that I should expect a man to say stuff like that, but not deliver on it. Is that ladylike and romantic? And naughty sexy mucking about with your actual sexual organs is dirty and unladylike and unromantic, only to be enjoyed by women who behave badly? That isn't subversive. I don't think M&Bs intend to rouse passion, I think they aim to smother it in the soft, pink and fluffy; the emotional equivalent of candy floss.

Available for only £4.25 
from Hive!
I was still a sex kitten thirty years ago, when the film Romancing the Stone came out. It's about a romance writer who has to go on a real life adventure. She meets a kind of man who was to become a staple romantic hero: a rough diamond sort, who saves her skin in spite of being no gentleman. Eventually she realises that her fantasy romantic heros are all eyewash and that the down and dirty bloke-y bloke who actually has *eeek* sex with her, is the man to go for.

Jack T. Colton (T. for Trustworthy, LOL), is just as fantasy a romantic hero as in an M&B, but at least he is erotic, he expects a lady to like sex with him. My favourite moment of the film is when he tries to rush to rescue Joan Wilder. He grabs a gun - no bullets! He climbs a stone wall, slips back down. By the time he gets to her, she's saved herself. As he goes to dive off the walls of the ruined fort again, the romance writer cries: "You're leaving? You're leaving me?!" He gives her a passionate kiss and smiles, saying: "You're going to be alright Joan Wilder... You always were."

You can get the box set
for £6.47!
(Oh, OK, my other favourite moment is when Danny DeVito falls off the counter in the police station. That makes Piglet and me laugh so hard we start snorting! Yes, yes, she is too young to watch Romancing the Stone but as she says: "Ewwww!" even when they kiss and runs out the room, I allow it. I am a terrible mother, I even let her read Enid Blyton!) 

From fatchicksings blog.
I don't mind reading rubbish, I love junk novels. M&Bs are boring, though. They are like cheap chocolates, when you had one you want another one, and after a while you feel a bit sick. Whereas proper 70% dark chocolate lingers in your mouth and mind and one square will often be enough.

I am going to be alright, without any M&B manly man's chest to beat on. Pop Jewel of the Nile on, open a good Montepulciano and let's enjoy an ea-asy night in, LOL. 

As that greatest of romance writers Jane Austen puts it in her delightful juvenile spoof Love and Freindship: "Beware of swoons, Dear Laura."

1 comment:

Joe Blow said...

I haven't read any Mills & Boon, but it seems as if the spirit of these books has contaminated other genres now. Now we have paranormal romance. Somehow vampires are now hunky guys that don't actually kill people and drink their blood. And werewolves don't eat people any more.

Still, I suppose with any formula literature it becomes sort of pointless to criticise it when it is catering to another person's needs. You could read a foot fetish erotic novel and find it boring and stupid because it spends so much time describing people's feet. Mills & Boon novels no doubt provide their readers with something which those readers are looking for. I think it is very much a fetishistic thing. It's like teenager girls going into a sexual frenzy at one glimpse of the Beatles (or today Justin Beiber). It isn't rational. It isn't about quality. I know for myself, my literary comfort foods are often dumb, "politically incorrect" and having little appeal to non-fans. So I can identify with the Mills & Boon fans, even if I don't have any interest in reading the books they read.