Category Archives: vintage Boomer porn

I built a book machine and I’m about to crank it up.

kathleen_k_erotica_fiction_books_typistThis Kathleen K. Books business all started decades ago on a Selectric typewriter and evolved with technology to land squarely in the Publish on Demand online model, this idea I could be an indie author-publisher wasn’t fluff-headed dreaming of best sellers but setting the pace for a compositional marathon.  In pursuit of that dream, I fabricated a dozen books at my own expense and had them reviewed (cha-ching) and advertised (you quoted how much for an eighth-page?).  I wanted to focus on oddly thoughtful bedside readers tailored for the nightstand, available via the publisher e-store, and from Amazon for clean-hands distribution, priced to sell at a cost I could sustain.  I established the process for making books with CreateSpace.com and love the building phase.  I have an additional six books written but not yet scheduled for production so there is no lack of raw material.

What I couldn’t build was a public framework for the project because it wasn’t real yet –  and I knew it would take five years to accomplish.  Few fans have that much patience if they don’t even know you to begin with.  The hardest thing was my leap of faith: whether or not the books ‘get out there’, their existence is the point.  Leap again:  (And would I really be happy with that?)  It held my anxiety at bay to get a positive review or a higher-than-their-average click-through on an ad.  The books were holding up to critical scrutiny.  Business Premise One: the books are good reads.

What had to happen next is happening now.  I am contracted for an “outreach” by a powerful erotic book biz insider; we’ve cultivated an email and phone relationship over three years during which he told me what I’d have to do to be ready.  And I did those things.

There is a frisson when women provide porn and it adds tang to what I’m doing.  I expect to be best known for the eight sexotic books (the molten core), but there are also four well-received family fiction books that have all the passion but not much of the folderol around sex.  These two reader pools translate to a Venn diagram where circles intersect:  some readers will be in one circle and some in the other, some in the overlap.  Being counterculture also put a lid on me until I felt free to venture into erotic-sexotic-graphic-potcentric-romantic-poetic publishing without it ricocheting on any one dependent on me.  It could all go spectacularly wrong and twist from flirty to dirty.  I had to consider all sides of calling attention to the business.

This collection fait accompli will seem to come from nowhere, more accurately it is popping up from underground.  It was being built in the belief there are rowdier readers who will recognize a good book when they pick one up, and come back for more over time.  The books celebrate a long tradition of independent thinkers getting their words to line up just so.  Yes, I have a book making machine, as do many others, but I make “craft books” with mine.  The work is reviewed as “inventive, intelligent, witty and wise” because  it reaches for the  richest vocabulary, with the freshest interjections, carving out that moment a reader is held by clarity of expression and can focus on the commotion of emotion around sex∞love.  We language lovers use its many layers to mask beauty and hide snide.

The covers are crucial.  First glance matters: does it snag the eye?  Bring it back?  Is there an effective balance of image and lettering; what is the tone?  I have “foreseen” what the covers might be for years before a book goes into production and then I see what manifests when the ink hits the paper (pixels on the screen).

Artististic Credits & Acknowledgements:  I have been well-served working with a design team at Createspace.com for most of the books; however, Barry (Mandot) Messer was incorporated in Arching Over because he illustrated the original I Feel as I Am Felt poetry volume incorporated within that four-part book, then he and I reunited for Stoner’s Bone of ContentionMaxximus wove my four poetry books into Arching Over then gave us a memorable image of feminine strength for the cover.  I commissioned him to create my book logo with me.  James Ambrous answered a Craigslist posting to free-hand simple measuring scales at various points of balance for Family: Love v. Money

There is the singular look of a book, and the heft of it, embodied in print.  When I started in alternative publishing, having a lightweight library of portable digital files did not compute… getting e-Fingered on a screen isn’t the same as being the only thing held in someone’s hands as the sole focal point.  Logically, I bow to mobility via Kindle but my heart is analog and the books should be read in print if possible.  [Especially at bedtime = no screens.]

I look forward to saying that I was discovered by a Kirkus review because it is simply true.  Two years into my five-year plan, I received a “love your stuff” email from a book pro that dropped the phrase ‘exceptionally gifted’.  [Soul = Sold!]  (Such a smart man.)  It is the one and only communique I’ve received from a half-dozen positive reviews.  Why that guy, why then?  I had set my lightning rods out and one worked!!  And this was Big Buzz bolt from the blue, not from some fellow wannabe starting out but a deeply experienced professional marketeer.

We knew I’d be based online, since the focus was selling the books and not, for instance, book tours and meet-and-greets.  The books are disembodied mixed voices and times.  My virtual fan base would spread out over the various topics and themes, able to conjure up heart-of-gold prostitutes and heart-of-stone priests.  [Who more evil?  You more evil!]  Each book stretched the perimeter until I’d squared up on my intentions to make the books, come what may; each one a statement piece but all together a compendium.

On the business side, there is also a substantial difference in return to the author for POD books, buying them directly from CreateSpace gives me best royalty so “true fans” will celebrate this indie endeavor by buying through my site.  Amazon is the only source otherwise for both print and Kindle but they keep more of the money for themselves.  My posted info-buy links fit the trade-local sensibility, to engage directly with the maker of what it is you buy when you can.

Web presence is woven by interlinking & cross-tapping + whatever else I could do to repeat my key phrases for 1800+ days :  Kathleen K., books, erotica, fiction, sexotica, family life, curiosa, voyeurism, phone sex, tow truck.  The brand name is easy enough, and those search term pairings get first page results on most days.  We’re about to tip the first domino and introduce the brand of Kathleen K. Books across the world.wide.wonderful.  We are not announcing a single book in a brand new/familiar voice:  we are presenting an assortment from which almost any reader could select something “interesting”.  Not precisely a book launch, this first campaign is something else.  What it is, we’re about to find out.

The entrepreneurial aspect is of interest to some because it demonstrates that you can set a long term target for an art-endeavor made of real-world guidance-targets along the way like reviews and give-aways.  We business gamblers dream in a peculiar way when we work the odds and concede the losses so that we can believe our bet will pay off as long as we stay in the game.  I am no different than the house painter upgrading her sprayer or the gardener investing in a mobile van… each move was meant to enhance my product.  Full circle to the ultimate luxury of my position at this juncture in that whatever I have done is done.

I am unleashing the books.

#readmore

 

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Sexotic – Erotic Kathleen K. Books – The First Five Years

I set out in 2011 to make print-digital masters of ten of my “previously private publications” within five years; as an experienced book builder I knew exactly what I wanted to have produced for me.  I learned that CreateSpace.com gave me the control I required plus creative insight I had not expected.

kathleenk erotica gender dynamics family life indieThe first book was a trial run, and the book-team assigned to my project popped this image onto it with that choppety font: they caught the mood and carved it on the cover.  Talk about a strong entrance to print-on-demand since that image draws then holds the eye, plus it thumbnails well.  Deciding which book to put into production next is part art and part strategy, author meet publisher (“Enjoy sharing that skull.”).  Joody grabs you long enough to notice there now are other characters-covers around her:  a dozen Kathleen K. Books examine the commotion of emotion around sex∞love and the infinity between.

Bedside readers for the adult mind… erotic & sexotic

kathleenk_erotica_books_dark_prince_sexotic


Examine what it means to hide your primary sexual relationship from the people you love but flaunt it in front of strangers. 

Enjoy this flip and witty take on gender dynamics, deliciously explicit, as it probes themes of submission, permission, and admission.

Just Released!

 

hires_frontcover    frontcover HoneyB I 7174296_cover     PP Native Cover.4539172.indd

Stoner-cover copy image   Stoners_bone_of_contention_cover ARCHING Cover Memorial+3 pre-FINAL cover_rough0003a

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Vivid family fiction for those who read
between, around and beyond the lines. 

frontcover   Stainless Mary BookCoverImage LentHand frontcover-medium  FAMILY cover front harvest from PDF


I set three goals for the first five years:  make books, establish online catalog-outreach, and sustain a social media presence.

Twelve books.  100+ posts here.  450+ Tweets.

Done, done and done.

This is the foundation for the next five years.  The turning point may be when I am accepted as a content-provider to an alternative-indie periodical of some sort for print and digital access: a home base from which to syndicate-replicate someday.  I represent a distaff voice, in the tradition of lady wits and witches… sassy, sexy, smart, scorching, and self-contained.  Right now I’m angling to luck across a keen scout who pulls my work forward and sees the business I am building… it’s all about the books.

Another bet that paid off was selecting Kirkus Reviews professional service as a trial-by-fire for the books themselves.  Consistent positive reviews from Kirkus bolster my literary cred, which is especially valuable for the Indie publisher.  “We see you.”

A witty and wise read, especially for fans of tough-minded heroines.

Stainless Mary  Kirkus Reviews Aug. 2012

A beautifully woven novel about an unusual boy… and how he learns to be a father, without having really been a son.

The Lent Hand   Kirkus Reviews  Jan 2013

Quotable tags like these shorthand the type of book it is, indicating the style and tone rather than touting a thriller-killer plot or genre-buzz.  Consider this discussion on how readers might pick their books.

I leverage the GoodReads.com Give Away program to garner hundreds of “looks” from specifically-interested purposeful readers seeking books and willing to invest an actual click.  I can “look back” at the entrants via online profile image and presence: I skim past fast, going for the overall energy.  I’ve worked on the down-low so long, it’s exciting to start the next five years with a more public stance on my planning.  So many people imagine the things they would create if they had an audience but I took the opposite approach, I created what I wanted to create for the challenge-fun of fabricating bedside readers for the adult mind.  Groundwork laid, now I seek the rowdier readers who will at least pull my words to their screen.

Whether it turns out to be squibs of romantic-graphic poetry scattered around a gritty weekly, providing a quick jolt of thinking for the wandering mind, or excerpts serialized from my vignette-rich and scenario-driven books themselves between art-concept glossy covers, I can only imagine.  This sought-after periodical presence would be in the long tradition of actual literature in counter-culture small presses and little magazines.  With Playboy dropping nudes, they are conceding the porn-pic war as rendered irrelevant to their mission, we only hope they stay alive in the literary and arts communities which was the other revolution Hugh Hefner took on.  Remember those glorious interviews and break-out stories between the impossible beauties and those crazy-cool parties “in the Grotto”?  There is more to “getting it” than sex.  What they called a club we now call a community.  Like-minded.

kathleenk_erotica_fiction_books_indieI’m walking fertile ground since Fifty Shades of Grey helped weaken the grip of male-modality in adult entertainment:  those books weren’t about content-quality but about the surge of consumer fever whether or not the literary community approved.  Traditional publishers were aghast at the volume of mommy porn.  Really?  (Really.)  I’m not banking on a book or three, I’m presenting a 12-book collection available online today.

My investment in the actual book masters establishes my freedom, each title is available on demand with no further cost or effort on my part.  It’s a leap of faith to call a book finished, ending that interlude when a character’s bailiwick first exists without public criticism or praise, product of paper-pen-pixels grappling with the ineffable.  And then at one moment in time the writer declares the book to be complete as it will be, the people and places forever captured there.  Now, offered here.

Kathleen K Books — Next Five Year Plan

Produce five book print-digital masters.

Maintain online catalog-blog.

Sustain delivery of reTweetable @KathleenKxxx Tweets or similar evolving “pithy” webiverse.  Reactivate @Potcentric

Continue branding efforts as both a book collection, and as a dozen discrete titles.  To that end, I leave a steady set of markers: I was here, and here… and over here too.  Just linkin’ along.

Thankful.  Hopeful.

November 30, 2015

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Human Penis Info: Putting it in… perspective

kathleen_k_writer_erotica_sexotica_books_poetryNothing new about the meat market!

Let’s toss some science and evolution into the endless contemplation of the human penis and its role in history.  Since comparative measurement is at the heart of much of the angst about the human penis, perhaps instead of comparing them to each other, we can cross species and be glad for the tool granted to all the human brethren.  You’re hanging huge among the placental mammals, dudes.  Relax.

“…the human penis is larger than that of any other primate, both in proportion to body size and in absolute terms.”  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Penis

Why Don’t We Have a Better Condom?  Good question, discussed here.

Australians Working on Better Condom

Scientists from the University of Wollongong are designing ultra-durable condoms they claim could feel even better than nothing at all.
The contraceptive is made with hydrogel, a strong and flexible solid which can be made to feel and act like human tissue.
The groundbreaking design will eventually offer functions like self-lubrication, topical drug delivery, and even electric conductivity, dramatically changing the capacity of male contraception, reports Science Alert.

We can also investigate erecting the barrier from the inside out:  female condom news.

We’re getting the science right but the emotions are still all over the map.  The extreme penis enlargement done by this guy shows his lack of understanding of the purpose and functionality that underlie the existential value of the organ.  He’s outsized it, literally.  It cannot fit anywhere it was intended to fit.  It is on constant display as a rupture in his ego, more so than those huge boob-balloons which to be fair do not prevent sexual connection.  What burbles beneath our preoccupation is the general tension over penis endowments.  Women worry less about the size of a man’s penis than she does about his own assessment of that size and how it affects their relationship.

For whatever reason(s), men resist the obvious truth that they have the normal amount of stuff to work with, are in competition with similarly-sized males, and whatever it is they do have is prized by their partner.  My message:  physique and technique.  Assess what you have, make peace with it.  Then, learn to put it to good use.  Many women don’t actually experience all that many men, so you can narrow your sample size.  It isn’t you amongst the millions, it is you and the select how-many-ever-but-not-likely-millions she accepted before, during and after you.  Make your time together memorable and you’ll loom large in her dreams.

#readmore

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Sexotica is the rundown and roundup of options in the carnal markets

Fifty Shades of Grey is a stand-in phrase for sexually explicit writing and now a racy movie about power and pain… in high places.  Very beautiful people playing with sex gadgets and tensioners, oh! so extreme.  It’s a big shift from having incidental sex (spies, cops, criminals doing it between ‘important’ plot-advancing activity) to a film using the sex as a character, an energy.

I have always focused on the appetite for E.L. James’ trilogy rather than the taste level of it… wildfire sales gave me hope as an indie author-publisher that people remain curious in this video-porn-saturated world; they want romance and intrigue and details of seduction with illustrative outcomes of any such contact.

kathleen_k_sexotica_erotica_graphic_romantic_books

Intriguing image from dreamstime.com

The problem with designating this or any other work “erotica” is that it requires a subjective sense of engagement to be moved by words.  Sexotica qualifies on content alone:  specifically, information about options and alternatives is presented.  Turning you on isn’t the objective, increasing your knowledge and appreciation of sexuality is.  Humans like to learn about things we’d never do (suck toes, chase a cheetah, fly a rocket…) but we are extra shy about our non-essential sexual curiosities.  Remember, sodomy used to mean anything that didn’t make a ‘legitimate’ baby which disallowed pre-marital, extra-marital, anal, oral, manual and masturbatory release.  It seems unseemly to ask for details on precisely how not to do those things specifically.

One reason the Fifty Shades movie will disappoint some viewers is because they won’t give over to it in a crowded theater.  Put it online and it will go-go-go.  Pretty pretty sex… in oh-so-faux perilous situations.  Contrast it with Fatal Attraction making it dirty by framing sex in a dingy elevator and against a sink full of dishes.  The beautiful and arch expression of peak physicality in the actors themselves puts a shine on a common enough man+woman encounter, statistically speaking.  Maybe not at the sink but it isn’t about the sink.

I’m beckoning rowdier readers to request a sample book in exchange for a reviewOnly you can give us your reaction to the books.  I write for folks who like the vernacular, the language is freewheeling.  Focus remains on the inventiveness of the physiques and techniques in these mucho many vignettes and scenarios: the rundown and roundup of specificities in general.  


If the idea of smart and sexy language sets you a’Twitter:  @KathleenKxxx

I rode that sweet cunny like a desperado heading for his hide-out: crazy-wild getting there and unleashed when I knew I made it home.


For rowdier readers  kathleenk_sexotica_honey_b_sexual_consultant     ADULTS ONLY – SAMPLE

from Honey B., The Buzz   (Coming. Soon. Summer 2015)  Honey B. is a sexual consultant who tells truer-that-true tales of a retired pay-to-play girl who turned to giving Frank advice about Dick.  Sassy, sharp and seriously experienced, Honey advances the belief that sex is about learning.  In Book IV of the quintet, it is the consorts and cohorts who tell us stories about her, what it meant to meet her, to interact, to (pretend) to dominate, to (actually) submit.  Told in alternating explanations about the impact of her sexual intervention, and quicker snippets of encounters with an inventive, intelligent sex⇔love partner, The Buzz is another oddly thoughtful look at choices and strategies in the carnal markets.

Honey B., The Suite Life – Book I available now

Honey B., Sexual Consultant  – Book II available now

Honey B., Erotic Advisor – Book III written, not yet in production

Honey B., The Buzz – Book IV in production

Honey B., Happy Endings – Book V written, not yet in production

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She had her way with me, I presented myself for her ministrations without a single limiting request… who was I to tell a sexual artist what she must do to please me?  I was not shy with my body but my feelings were sheltered deep inside.  Piece by part by portion, she blended the tactile rush of her educated fingers with the whisper-kisses of entreaty.  I withstood the call of her sex so she could push against my boundaries, the ones unspoken and thus most feared.

I cannot give away her secrets but I can share this moment:  She’d got me standing at the edge of the bed upon which she is prone, her face at my groin, panties at her ankles.  And she did this for me!

_____________________

I never met an investigative reporter before, I hope this book idea works out because the world is full of surprises and Honey is one of them. I had lived half my life in a fog and one woman blew me clear into a whole new life. Opening my eyes to the desire for sex gave me a new outlook on existence.

I expected to go to yet another counselor with my husband Tony and try to figure out why we weren’t making our marriage work. I loved him and he loved me, and yet we bickered and fought over every little thing. We had done so much sensitivity training that we could hardly brush past each other in the hallway without attaching interpersonal significance to it, we had sex every night and worked at it doggedly until we were mutually satisfied.

Honey said, “For god’s sake, take a break. Quit fucking so much, you’re ruining your love life. You need more sleep and less sex.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. We were not used to being criticized for our sexual endurance. Most counselors reassured us that our continued sessions of orgasmic-at-all-costs intercourse held us together. Honey disagreed because we spent too much time at it. We were in a sexual rut. I thought marriage was symbolized in sex and that our commitment to daily exchange of sex would ward off all evils that threaten marriage. What Honey did was simple as pie. She let us see ourselves differently. We went on a sex diet.

For three days in a row we went to bed, kissed goodnight, and rolled over. The extra hour of sleep helped us start the day easier. We could take time to have breakfast together and plan the day. The fourth night we made love so fast that we didn’t miss much sleep. Three more days without sex and we planned a feast. We took a bath together, we ate each other to orgasm, we had dinner, we made love.

I hadn’t been so horny in a long time. We had broken our old pattern after two weeks of this and then Tony suggested to try two days off, one on, because the rapid-after-waiting sex was intensely exciting for him. He loved how quickly I got ready for him to enter me, I was flattered that the first sight of my body aroused him. We feasted on each other on Friday nights, and sometimes we snuck a fuck on Saturday afternoon but we were being naughty then and it didn’t take much to knock us out.

The other counselors did not understand sex as well as Honey did and although these other people offered reasonable methods for improving our interpersonal communications, it took a sexualist like Honey to give us a boost toward truer love and deeper sex.

Once we got past our scheduling problems, we looked more closely at the components of our pleasure. I was re-taught how to handle Tony’s penis by watching him whack himself off.  I learned to close my hand around it like a tube, not intended as a vise; visualizing the pliant vagina for which it longed; I learned to get rhythmic and repetitive so he could focus on the sensation and intensify it mentally – I had been changing my strokes too often and too radically. I quit laying next to him to do it (the angle was all wrong). I sat on the edge of the bed and he stood before me, I used two hands to scoop his cock and balls into an orgasmic storm so he could splash my chest with his cum.

Tony took pointers on eating me; we discovered I preferred to include a dildo in the act because I loved the penetration. As eager as he was to tongue me, and as much as I liked to be nuzzled as foreplay, in fact it took a thick stick to fill me the way I wanted. I got so wet from this that it was embarrassing to me at first until I understood that the lubrication was sexy to Tony, he thought of me slicked up for his dick.

I thought I’d never think about sex again after Tony died, we had been so in tune and it was such a physical love – then I took out our dildo and I filled myself with memories. I didn’t realize how good it was for me to do this until I started weeping after my orgasm: I was wide open, like I used to be, like Tony encouraged me to be. Like Honey presumed we intended to be all along.  I remembered our love was expressed through desire and I could still feel that.

_____________________

The cleft of her ass started at her nape and moved along her supple spine, punctuated by two little dimples notched like thumb-holds at her hips.  Even now I can position my hands as if hauling her back up against me, remembering her fleshy ass yielding to the command in my fingers.  I could just about control myself when she was facing away, her fine rump bumping me back.  Still couldn’t face her, didn’t think I ever would.  This dog style humping was all I deserved.

#readmore

I fabricate books.

I fabricate books. Books are printed on paper and bound, most often with a cover that wraps around it, usually hand-held but can be propped on table or lap, requiring repetitive mechanical finger action to advance pages.

Bedside readers for the adult mind… erotic & sexotic

kathleenk_erotica_books_dark_prince_sexotic HoneyB I 7174296_cover  PP Native Cover.4539172.indd

frontcover Stoner-cover copy imageStoners_bone_of_contention_cover

hires_frontcover  ARCHING Cover Memorial+3 pre-FINAL cover_rough0003a

___________________________________

Vivid family fiction for those who read

between and beyond the words.

frontcover   FAMILY cover front harvest from PDF

Stainless Mary BookCoverImage   LentHand frontcover-medium

eBooks are pale iterations lacking body, they are not tactile, they do not show wear or tear of handling, they don’t have cracked spines or bent corners. Overly-tidy for my taste.  War and Peace is the same “weight” as Love Story on an eReader but put side by side in print telegraph their scope (comparing file sizes just isn’t the same).

I render digital versions for convenience.  It’s a low-cost way to get my stories into people’s minds.  I would like to see less “bad faith returns” meaning if you do eRead the book, don’t eReturn it.  It is just as low-class to wear something once and take it back.  You know you’re wrong.  eBooks have “Look Inside” previews and reviews so it isn’t a pig in a poke, and MAYBE you might go wrong 10% of the time.  You also don’t have to “like” the book meaning if the ending bummed you out that isn’t reason to reject the book purchase/reading experience.


I am grateful for Print on Demand as it allows me to create book masters for one fixed cost and then produce copies as needed.  I imagine it runs much like a busy port using containers to mix shipments of feathers and bowling balls by creating stack-able units no matter the content.  POD publishers have lots of ‘containers’ ready to roll. My graphic poetry is stacked on my Stoner fictional memoirs next to the Honey B.’s.  Mixed in with the sexotic-erotic-graphic containers are the family-driven narrative fiction products ready for reading by those who don’t want all the folderol of overt sex yet expect passion, drama and engagement.

#readmore

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Giving Away Erotica – The Lunarium

Using the wonderful features of GoodReads.com, I have launched my third book Giveaway.

kathleenk_erotica_the_lunarium_voyeurism_sexotic    The Lunarium GiveAway    Share the link!

Ten copies of The Lunarium will be awarded on November 30th and, I promise, mailed out the next day.

This collection of sixty-nine vignettes of voyeurism was Named to Kirkus Reviews Best of 2013 which is a great thrill to an indie author-publisher who appreciates when the big wide world takes notice.

The Giveaway program at GoodReads.com encourages publishers to facilitate book reviews.  They don’t claim the Giveaway winners are chosen entirely at random; they factor in the number of books in your listed collection, the number of reviews you’ve completed plus ineffable factors because they, too, want to reward and encourage reader feedback.  (I hope they throw in a few truly random selections, though, to keep things fresh.)

Good luck, and contact me directly if you want to discuss providing other reviews:  Info@KathleenKBooks.com


The Lunarium – Table of Things

About Things

Things are not chapters, episodes, or other specifically divisible increments of thought as parsed into expression.  There are all sorts of things that go on on paper  and this is some of that. Things will never be the same, they say, and that may be true – for them. I prefer to think of things my own way.

The First Thing  >< The Lunarium

The Second Thing ><   Voyeurs’ Cave

The Third Thing  ><   In the Mirror

The Fourth Thing  ><   Rear View

The Fifth Thing  ><   We’re Not Alone

The Sixth Thing  ><   SLIDE open the door QUIETLY

The Seventh Thing  ><   You Asked for It

The Eighth Thing  ><   Live Nude People

The Ninth Thing  ><   Procrastination

The Tenth Thing ><   In the Car, in the Day

The Eleventh Thing  ><   Rockets Away

The Twelfth Thing  ><   View with the Room

The Thirteenth Thing  ><   Lysergic Acid Diethylamide

The Fourteenth Thing  ><   Lean Over and Brace Yourself

The Fifteenth Thing  ><   Two-fold Twins

The Sixteenth Thing  ><   Sodom Community Theater

The Seventeenth Thing  ><   Close Your Eyes.  See What I Mean?  He Is the Pilot, She Is Flying.

The Eighteenth Thing  ><   Stripping vs. Disrobing

The Nineteenth Thing  ><   Men Put Their Hearts into It

The Twentieth Thing  ><   Women Elude Me

The Twenty-First Thing  ><   Fancy Meeting You in the Mirror

The Twenty-Second Thing  ><  Lunarium Redux

The Twenty-Third Thing >< I Said Fuck Me

The Twenty-Fourth Thing >< Virginia Woolf in the Buff (I’m Afraid)

The Twenty-Fifth Thing  ><  Male Role in the All-Girl Revue

The Twenty-Seventh Thing >< Late Night with James O’Donohue

The Twenty-Eighth Thing  ><  Rough Before Smooth

The Twenty-Ninth Thing  ><  Exquisite Angel

The Thirtieth Thing >< Wrestling a Bra

The Thirty-First Thing  ><  I’ve Seen Some Really Bad Sex

The Thirty-Second Thing >< Dues Due

The Thirty-Third Thing  ><  Yin and Yang in Black and White

The Thirty-Fourth Thing  ><  White Women on Leashes

The Thirty-Fifth Thing >< Fantasies Come True

The Thirty-sixth Thing  ><  Kiss My Irish Ass

The Thirty-Seventh Thing  ><  Tit Talent Show

The Thirty-Eighth Thing >< She Eats Cock with a Knife and Fork

The Thirty-Ninth Thing  ><  Her First, Then Me, Said She

The Fortieth Thing >< No Homo

The Forty-First Thing >< Panties For Sale

The Forty-Second Thing >< Luck of the Irish Boy, A Lass

The Forty-Third Thing >< Love-chafed

The Forty-Fourth Thing >< Make Me Take It, Let Me Have It (Doggie Wanna Bone?)

The Forty-Fifth Thing >< Sex Radio

The Forty-Sixth Thing >< Whose Tongue in Which Cheek?

The Forty-Seventh Thing >< Mr. Phyllis

The Forty-Eighth Thing  ><  I Learned in the Laps of the Masters

The Forty-Ninth Thing  ><  (title restricted)

The Fiftieth Thing  ><  Virgin Orgy

The Fifty-First Thing  ><  Staged Kiss Off

The Fifty-Second Thing  ><  Are You Good?

The  Fifty-Third Thing  ><  The Lunarium by Daylight

The Fifty-Fourth Thing  ><  Masturbating with Jeanelle

The Fifty-Fifth Thing  ><  Animals Doing It with Animals (the only one for the only now)

The Fifty-Sixth Thing  ><  Professor Wright Teaches Sex

The Fifty-Seventh Thing  ><  Hypocritical Exhibitionists

The  Fifty-Eighth Thing  ><  Bawdy versus Raunchy

The Fifty-Ninth Thing  ><  Me Being Man; You Being Not Man

The Sixtieth Thing  ><  The Super-fluous Bowl

The Sixty-First Thing  ><  Four-some, More-some

The Sixty-Second Thing  ><  Ejaculometers

The Sixty-Third Thing  ><  Tele-erotic

The Sixty-Fourth Thing  ><  How Could You Not Want to Watch?

The Sixty-Fifth Thing  ><  Door Frame Dancing

The Sixty-Sixth Thing  ><  Confronted with Chastity

The Sixty-Seventh Thing  ><  Exacting Equipoise

The Sixty-Eighth Thing  ><  At the Edge of a Live Volcano (At the Very Lip of Love)

The Sixty-Ninth and Final Thing  ><  Can You Face It, James?

The Seventieth Thing  ><   Always Give a Little Extra (or, The Ninth Thing  ><  Procrastination – Older Than Me When It Counted)

#erotica #readmore #voyeurism #sexotica #orgiastic

Women are not single fuse firecrackers content with the same old bang

The conversation on women’s appreciation of sexotica continues:  Porn for women: Real people having a real good time (Guardian)

It’s not that women don’t like porn. It’s that they don’t like most of the porn that actually gets made, and they’re doing something about it, according to the U.K. Guardian.

COMMENTARY by counterculture author-publisher Kathleen K.

There is a gender distinction in sexual expression that needs to be blended together for a mixed audience to appreciate.  Putting the focus on “women producing porn” grabs the headlines but, in fact, females have been present in the industry as writers and arrangers and directors all along.

What we didn’t have was the old-boy network that got work produced and distributed.

One key to women’s participation in the Sexpression Business is indie freedom, made possible by digital distribution and online communities.  The idea that women don’t like porn fails to note the fact that porn is shorthand for male-dominated imagery… it is a brutal close-up of ram-jamming ferocity.

It doesn’t help to flip the presumption and imagine that women want soft-focus kissy-face.  Women appreciate preparation, it underlies the truth that it takes females longer to “get ready” whether it’s for a picnic or the prom.  Sexually, we’ve got more moving parts and our sex receptors are configured differently within our gender.  See this review of Vagina to appreciate the complex design of female response.  Women are not single fuse firecrackers content with the same old bang.  Men brag they can be turned on and off like a switch and fail to appreciate that women have so many more ineffable elements to their arousal.

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It has been my experience that women are just as curious about the workings of sex between imaginary characters as men are, but they prefer more spin on the players before starting the game.  Don’t believe it’s that fundamental?  Consider the glory hole.  That’s a man’s world.

As a writer of erotic-sexotic books, I make the distinction for “sexotica” because some folks just don’t like to get overly-involved in the actual action but are most curious about the factual options.  Sexotica is colloquial, direct and specific, it uses the vernacular.  The reader stays one step removed.

Erotica engages the reader’s egocentric core, it draws energy to their own desires and incorporates them into the action.  Erotica is designated so by the reader(s) response; sexotica qualifies on content alone.

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Dark Prince, Heed Thy Queen
(In the Realm of Roles and Reversals)                SAMPLEComing.  Soon.  September 2014

I’m not defending Nathan, I’m explaining him. I consorted with this dog and thought he was a man. The sad part is that Nathan was a man in many ways, in basic ways. 95% genetically similar. 5% canine-lupine. (It’s only a couple of percent difference for human to chimp.) I was accustomed to men as house pets but then along came this hound. I was feeling sexually adversarial at that point in my life; I was tired of being nice. Acting sweet didn’t get me over the rainbow. I needed a commanding male|mate against whom I could struggle. The last thing in the world I wondered about was his bank book (since I wasn’t showing mine). I was far too busy sifting impressions of a most searing entanglement.

I didn’t want somebody to love. It was more selfish than that, I wanted somebody to enjoy my body with me. Screw me joyfully, with wit and daring. Seduce me, not entrap me. I wanted to feel the maleness of a man, dagger unsheathed for drawing blood to the pelvis… fluids rush, nerves tingle, the move is on.

Nathan might choose to be erotic spectator, director, participant, reviewer. He reserved the right for each of us to adopt roles in our love life. He was not to be considered a dick, his was not always central to our pleasure (nor was my box). He commandeered my whole body. He needed me for himself. He needed me for his friends. I got off on pleasing him, and his friends. I had dropped my guard, all the gates were down, I accepted my lover, Nathan, as a man. He could have been a frontiersman, an astronaut, a fisherman. External objects didn’t signify to me, it was a time of voluptuous indulgence, outrageous comfort, careless intimacy.

My involvement was pure, I had no thought of paining anybody. I didn’t mind a secret love life because how could I have explained these sexotic games to people I worked with, or to people at my health club? My family said I was looking fit. It was true I’d rather have sex than eat, I’d walk bra-less in short shorts for two miles with Nathan six paces back watching people watch me walk. He’d hump me standing behind a park bench in a secluded thicket then we’d walk home hand in hand, acting innocent but looking smudged.

One Halloween I went full-on French Maid then attended a party with Nathan. I was told to clean a man’s dick and was handed a warm soft cloth; he was wearing leather chaps and not much else… naughty party. This was a sensational moment with a check on emotions. No one presumed to ask me why I was engaged in this particular behavior. Such was Nathan’s power that he would know which man would accept and act on his offer of my tender tending. The costume “hid” me, objectified me, removed me from a sensible realm. Smart. Nathan knew how to work us all.

I didn’t care if the men “liked” me or not as long as Nathan had faith in me. I had given myself utterly and I understood his need for these sexual tableaus. When we were alone and made love, which was the way we did it most of the time, I felt the direct effect of his reliving those scenes. I know it pleased him that I could encompass more than one situation as long as I held true to my desire for him.

“I remembered a video I saw long before I met you, I got a copy for you to watch tonight. I’ll be back around ten. The second lead actress is a lot like you, in attitude, I mean. You have a similar shape, her ass isn’t as fine but you both have insane knockers. Flat on her back, she gets the same dreamy look you get when we ball. Notice what she does, and do that for me when I get back.”

He was not fanciful, he was effective. I was eager enough to supply the requisite smoothness to our affair, I overlooked things that really weren’t important when I compared them to our ardor. I forgot the clock when he was late, I didn’t complain if he wasn’t groomed or if he expected me to feed him first one time and ignored my food the next.

Whatever it took, I did. He was there for a sexual reason and I would work to discover that reason. It might start at the door with a quick deep feel or his move might not come until after we watched TV and ate our take-out food. The few times he put me off sexually (when we were in an otherwise active phase) it was only to build up for the next time. I’d be patted on the rear and told to put on a specific dress at a certain time – then he’d throw me a pair of crotchless panties to wear to his mechanic’s open house. I’d be sent to buy items at the drugstore, bubble bath and K‑Y Jelly. Peach flavored douche and a rectal thermometer. Condoms galore, every texture and color (all being the same basic shape) and dozens of surgical gloves.

I once let a deputy sheriff fondle me in the back seat of his cruiser while Nathan stood look-out on the side of the back country road. Another time I let Nathan disrobe me and rub my entire body, including the cracks, with oil. It so happened we were in an adult motel room with the drapes wide open to the private courtyard. Nathan used those kinds of memories to goad himself into incredible feats of sexual possession when we were alone together. The essential, core energy might have used outside forces as propellants but my man and I were coupled only to each other and only in our private realm.

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I suppose we do learn the hard way or we’d all be smarter sooner.

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Hempfest 2014. We’d win the weed war.

Happy Hempfest 2014.  For most of  us, there’s no need to scurry down to the Sculpture Park to buy a little buzz… seasoned Stoners knew this day would come:  we’d win the weed war.

The Stoner series of potcentric sexotic fictional memoirs elevates toking time to a sacramental endeavor.  The books twine reefer and romance through the eyes of a mild guy with a wild side.  He’s the guy you want to come to your party.  His way with women is not a trick, it is a knowing.  Same-so his cultivating a righteous high.  He pays special attention to both.  Because they matter.  To him.

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SAMPLE — Stoner’s Bone of Contention (The Weightless Joint)

I’m an old Stoner.  This dealer is young, proud of his scale-disguised-in-a-CD-case, so I politely hmm and umm as he explains it is precise to fractions of a gram.  Ahh.  As he talks I take a paper and crease it along the unglued edge so that about a quarter of the paper is folded lengthwise.  I tap my tongue along this edge, and the paper separates cleanly when pulled.  In the three-quarter paper, I sprinkle some of what he’s brought that I’ve carefully picked apart.  The joint is thin, a pinner.  I roll another.

I let him get a few hits ahead and then I mention there’s a better way to smoke this joint, while I pinched off the wet end so the smoke could move through.  He is to balance the joint between his thumb and forefinger, not mash it, he should position it so that the smoking-end of the j is not quite to the face-facing edge of this bridge.  Hold it only as tight as required to maintain control.  Use those arched fingers to ferry the lit joint to your lips.  The outer three fingers will curl up and away from the burning end.  You sip in air through (and around) the joint, leaving it dry.  This method makes that caricature of pot smoking, the pursed lip inhale.  I notice few of this Bong Generation have any idea how to roll a good doobie, or what to do when handed one.

I toss the other joint onto his scale and it registers 0.0.  He cocks his head to the side, silent.  I take it off and hand it to him.  It’s the same size as the one we’ve burned through so we both know it holds at least two highs.  He pokes the scale and the display changes.  He lets it reset then places the slender joint on the scale.  0.0

“Is that a weightless joint?”

“It’s your scale.”

“It weighs something.  I mean, just the paper weighs something.”

“A wisp, a few sprinkles of pot… not enough to register.”

“But it does register.  It registered on me.  If we just got high on nothing, then wouldn’t your pot last forever?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”

“It must add up.”

“What?  All those zeros add up to what?  A big fat zero?”

“That’s a whole lot of nothing, dude.”

#stonerliteracy #sexualthoughtfulness #Hempfest2014

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Putting The Dark Prince to Bed…

Thunder and lightning breaking a heat wave tonight… it was a sultry day thus perfect to review this frank and frisky take on seduction.  The first move comes when you convince yourself you have a chance and you dareDark Prince, Heed Thy Queen is the twelfth book from my Private Publications available September 2014 in print and Kindle at KathleenKBooks.com.

Inside Title Page Image by Brian Quinn

Inside Title Page Image by Brian Quinn

There’s another post in this series that describes completing a manuscript, Putting Honey B., Sexual Consultant, to Bed, which I reference here in its entirety.  Each book is another statement piece for my rowdier readers.

This tart tale of indulgence lurked in my work pile for twenty years; I worked on it in 1994, 2001, 2006, 2009, 2010 and 2014.  I had the foundation of it in two lines of dialog:

      “Spread ‘em.”

      “Spread me.”

The title coalesced when I got closer to the motivation of the narrator:

      Dark Prince, Heed Thy Queen (In the Realm of Roles and Reversals)

      He might plan the battles but she was winning the war.

SAMPLE – for illustrative purposes only.  Amateur readers may not be amused.

 

His name was Nathan, provocative Nathan… Nathan, my Dark Prince.

[][][][][][][]

Nathan is dense and dreamy, he fills out his jeans, he has square shoulders and a powerful torso, his face is unremarkable but his emotions use that blankness to telegraph messages to people. He projects himself at you; you are shown what he wants you to think he is feeling. He stays on tight focus when he is being intimate but otherwise he’s on wide broadcast. People know when such a man is in the vicinity because nature makes it so. You hear his walk, you catch his body language. He asserts himself without challenging others.

His hair is thick and curly, he can make it behave when he wants to but he doesn’t always want to. It will droop in his eyes when he’s thinking. He has a beard, a rough-looking scruff outlining his face, not overly manicured. It grows the way it does to fit the face he has, it emphasized his lips and the strength of his temperament.

[][][][][][][]

 

“Nathan, do you think we need to know more about each other?”

“More than what we taste like, more than what we feel like?”

“How about knowing an emergency number, in case you have a heart attack?”

“9-1-1.”

[][][][][][][]

 

I didn’t know where Nathan got his money. It didn’t matter to me, I didn’t rely on it. I had my own money. He had his living quarters, I had mine. Ours was not a relationship built on facts from “real life”. We were lovers and our world was our own.

“Nathan, who is your friend?”

“He’s not my friend. You’re getting your picture taken.”

“He doesn’t have a camera.”

“Wear that spangly bra and the red leather mini-skirt. Bring out some toys.”

“Who’s knocking at the door now, Nathan… a driver without a car?”

“Probably the crew. With this man’s cameras. And lights. And the other models.”

“Oh.”

[][][][][][][]

 

I couldn’t let that man go. I would, from time to time, contrive to avoid him. As a gentleman, he took the hint and laid low. I’d do my best to be busy, or relaxed, or whatever plan I had for a particular bout of leave-taking. It was always me that called him, he honored my decisions better than I did.

“Nathan, it’s me.”

“You always will be.”

“Have you found somebody else?”

“I wasn’t looking.”

“I can’t let you go, Nathan.”

“You’ve certainly tried.”

“You know I have. I just want our time back.”

“Do you remember that blue dress with the black belt… you wore it to a cowboy bar one night?”

“I do remember that dress.”

“Wear that dress for me.”

“Nothing but me underneath. Just like at the cowboy bar.”

“One difference. You’ll be performing for an audience of one tonight.”

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#readmore #erotic #sexotic

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Stoner Thanks WA State Voters for Giving Peace a Chance

Seattle’s only legal pot store ran out of weed, it closed until it could get some more.  There were no riots, nobody panicked.  Weather reports indicated the sun was due up the next day as usual.  Clue:  pot is readily available here and has been for some time.  Not at the grocery but certainly in the neighborhood.  Everybody’s got a brother-in-law who knows a guy, or has a crazy Aunt Ginger with the shady girlfriend.  For details about the world of home-grown dreams, check out Stonerwithaboner.com, gateway to “a memorable sexual escapade” introducing a mild man with a wild side seeking reefer and romance.

The regulation and commerce of weed continues to advance across the nation, tendrils of this freedom creep outward from WA and CO, edging up to medical pot and then softening the rest of the No-No-No.

Peaceful revolution, overall.  You’ll always have your fringe users blowing up their garages during marijuana extraction experiments but you also have a guy who lit his house on fire trying to kill a spider with a lighter and some spray paint.  Message here, keep it simple:

  • “There are safer, more effective ways to kill a spider than using fire,” Moore said. “Fire is not the method to use to kill a spider.” As for the spider, Moore said: “I’m pretty sure the spider did not survive this fire. The whole wall went.”

Don’t judge the majority by the antics of the stupid and deluded.  We’re swinging a pendulum here, easing up on the possession of pot but tightening up on impaired drivers no matter the source of impairment:  liquor, drugs, rage, selfishness.

Raise a toast.  Pass the doobie.  Let the pendulum swing.

Life Plan:  Support yourself then indulge yourself.

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Free e-reader – Vintage Boomer Porn – You do or you don’t, you will or you won’t: click here.

#readmore #stonerliteracy #regulatepot

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