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setting is Paris. The agenda is merrymaking. The unexpected is two
people falling in love and fighting for the right to love, as an
ex-friend of the woman becomes insanely jealous, and clinically
insane, and does his best to keep them apart. A love and adventure
a large cast of colorful characters—that
takes place in the parks, cemeteries, streets, and on the rooftops
can't fully bloom while obstacles stand in its way. Attraction
and Repulsion tells the story of a pair of lovers in Paris,
as they pursue love and the forces that keep them apart try even
harder. A story of love in spite of all those who would end it,
Robert Scott Leyse constructs a gripping story that will be hard
to put down.”—Midwest Book
in the span of a few tumultuous days, we find a dreamed love that
becomes real with quick edges, a purported ménage à
trois that is not a threesome, a plotted death that is not murder,
where death’s sanctuary becomes a playground, and where actors
become characters and characters become actors.”—Tom
Sheehan, author of Epic Cures
to be a young man in Paris with two lovely, liberated ladies in
a very contemporary ménage à trois
and with a colorful crew of international misfits for friends—all
of it good fun until true love and jealousy intrude, and their lives
take a serious turn. Robert Scott Leyse gives us a Parisian romantic
comedy with a well-earned happy ending and repartee as sparkling
as the champagne.—William T. Hathaway,
Rinehart Award winning author of Summer Snow
a love triangle and a love-hate triangle together in Paris, mix
in some festive adventures and crackling dialogue, and Attraction
and Repulsion is the entertaining result. Page-turning fun,
love, duress, and triumph: true happiness doesn't come cheap in
life, or in this novel.”—George
Fosty, ESPN featured author of Black Ice
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young man falls in love despite himself and the object of his affection
is long dead.
is a fascinating and excellent psychological thriller readers
won't be able to put down.”
phantasmagoria of unbridled lust, sexual obsession, and stealth
madness, Self-Murder is a dazzling indictment of desire
that brims with sensory imagery and moments of exquisite verbal
beauty delivered by a narrative voice that is baroque but disturbing
and more than a little reminiscent of Edgar Allan Poe.”
Earl Ross, Edgar Award-winning author of Blackbird Rising: A
Novel of the American Spirit
Scott Leyse channels Baudelaire's Queen of Spades and Jack of Hearts,
speaking darkly of dead loves, in this new book. He also reminds
me of James Purdy's notorious eccentricity. There's plenty of middlebrow
stuff if you want it. Self-Murder isn't that."
Saknussemm, author of Private Midnight
fine and entertaining novel,
Liaisons for Laughs is a choice
pick for fiction readers."
steamy, and intelligent."
two chapters: HERE
Frivolity: An Angie & Ella Weblog
by Angie & Ella & Guests
Angie & Ella and their friends share
excerpts from emails, silliness for its own sake, assorted rants
and raves, idle whirls of thought; they trade gossip, advertise
preferences, proffer advice, praise and chide and tease. Angie &
Ella are second year associates at a midtown Manhattan law firm.
Review of the Anthology
"Best Lesbian Erotica 2004"
by Lisabet Sarai
of this collection, though, seems to focus almost exclusively on
the physical. I also found it surprising (though I suspect that
this reveals my ignorance of lesbian sexual conventions) how many
of the encounters seemed to play out stereotyped straight scenarios:
butches fucking femmes with strap-ons, femmes giving blow jobs to
silicon cocks, deeper and harder and rougher is better..."
of the Novel "3"
"This is no ordinary love; it is diabolical
and all-consuming. Nor is the sex in '3' of the ordinary variety.
An edginess pervades the sex scenes, even the most vanilla. The
characters are constantly pushing boundaries, and pleasure is always
tainted: by fear, by shame, by insecurity."
Review of the Novel "3"
by Kristine Hawes
"This is no mere chronicle about three people fucking
and living happily ever after. Truthfully, it's not a book I would
even classify as typical erotica. While "3" is about sex
and sexual acts, it is a complex story about how obsessions can
become so binding as to choke out the life of their givers. This
book is a dark look at the emotional and mental workings of fetish,
desire, and codependency."
Desire: A Review of the Film "Friday Night"
by Lisabet Sarai
"'Friday Night' is simple and true. This is a slice
of Paris life. The director makes it clear that Jean and Laure are
ordinary people, caught for a moment, a night, in something extraordinary..."
Aimee's in a plight and a fright:
Her stocking's torn, it can't be worn.
And the formal dinner beckons:
A second-rate drab she reckons
She'll be without her precious "Reds":
An arch rival will turn more heads!
So the formal dinner's called off
And I foolishly dare to scoff.
So now my plight: no muff tonight!
As long as love-flatteries keep flowing
Christine remains kind, submissive, glowing;
The moment I put a lid on my mouth,
Her cooperative nature goes south.
So I ask: is binding myself with lies
Worth the reward of her fluttering sighs
As she opens thighs, proffers honeypot,
Undulates and giggles for my grapeshot?
Answer: I'll mouth any insane love-tale –
Beg for commitment, declare she's my grail –
When her bright eyes spin joy into my chest
And I seize, and squeeze, a succulent breast!
From a Novel, The Keating Script
by Tom Sheehan
Trench Always Gets Her Man by
From a Novel, The Keating Script
by Tom Sheehan
eye were put on them, if another view were to be seen of them, if somebody
were to peer in the window, new judgments would be made of the trio. May
Keating absolutely bloomed in the midst of them, a literary menage a trois.
Her eyes lit up by an inner flame, long, too long, subdued. Expressions
leaping to her face, crowding it into old issues, freeing from a secret
vault the unused traces of her innermost feelings, highlighting her golden
cheeks, the mouth whose parts were the elegance of lips almost dripping
with themselves. The very set of her jaw became for the moment softer
in its iron than it had been since the very crucible which had set it."
Trench Always Gets Her Man
low to the ground, she crept through the high grass. The blades whipped
at her face as she made her way swiftly toward the field. She was certain
that the noise had come from this area but it was empty, save a few horses
chewing in the distance. Cassidy crouched with one knee in the soft dirt,
waiting. Then something caught her eye in the trees that created a perforated
line at the far edge of her property. She sped through the grass once
again to get a closer look. What she saw was unmistakably a pair of legs
which slid out the lonely scrabbly little apple tree. The sight stopped
her short. Horses she’d shoot a man for, but apples?"
"All these guys I meet are the same. They’re passionless, tepid.
I’ve grown to hate the word "tepid." When I answer an
ad, I always use this word: 'I’m sick of tepid guys. I want to be
seduced. I want to be taken care of.'"
Church of Aphrodite’s Children
by William H. Libaw
their dressing cubicle at the church, C. C. Robeesy’s wife was reluctant
to take off her clothes. Having already put his own garments in the locker,
he said, 'Ann, you’ve been there, done that. You shed your body
shyness years ago. Remember those sniff-me taste-me sessions? When you
took us to The Center for Higher Awareness of The Lower Functions?'"
Tuong was twice as old as me. I was a fourteen-year old freshman in high
school and she had been catching my eye for almost a year. I didn’t
really know why that was happening, though the exploration was enjoyable,
at times exciting, blood flow at early expression. When she walked, which
was just about every place she went in town, her hips made me think about
boats hitched to a slack rope at the tide change, where the river and
the ocean met three miles downstream."
the Quaaludes and Canadian Club, I found myself crawling out of shoes
like a millipede, waiting for the black woman in the curtain less window
across the alley to begin. A giant scarab becoming a woman behind steamed
glass, flesh so dark and real I could almost catch her fragrance."
was born in New England and it’s a cold place. Raised in the four
iron walls of the long winter. Left to brood in the dark. Growing up there
made me strange though I never understood how strange until I’d
shaken the winter salt from my boots. I drove south and watched the summers
lengthen and felt the heat make its home in my skin. The forgotten dream
spurred me onward and some days I thanked it and others I cursed it but
I was happy to have the ice melted out of my toes."
from the novel, Self-Murder
Robert Scott Leyse
I speaking aloud when I heard my voice intone, “I want to drink
your death!”? In other words, did I whisper it into the ear of she
with whom I was spending the night or silently recite it to myself? I
wouldn’t bother to ask had I not suddenly become aware that her
hands were pressing against—slapping at—my chest in a manner
which seemed more strident than playful; aware it was almost as if she
was insisting I raise myself off of her, bring the proceedings to a halt."
Dead End Job
by Laurence Klavan
"They had started doing it at work because they had been so fucking
bored. Not that Isabel had expected to be thrilled, exactly, collecting
data in a company that made security systems—let her get this straight—so
that “passive requestors” could strengthen the “trust
realms” between “insecure” computers, so that web browsers
could better “make requests” of—oh, the whole thing
had been so lame to begin with, and so would anybody working in it..."
for Whom I Have Scoured the Universe
we are here patrolling our lives, moving about, now and then we meet,
not with great frequency I must admit, most memorable people. They, in
turn, haunt us one way or another until our last vision fades away, be
it a turn of their face, a hand’s movement in sweet gesture, a universal
shoulder announcement as they change direction, or attitude, or deference.
Perhaps their impacts are from what they don’t do as well as from
what they do."
"She thinks about when she applied – just an ad in the paper
for a customer service representative for a fruit basket company. She
did not expect their boss Lisa to have a secondary job running a brothel.
She watches Nathaniel blink several times at the ceiling and starts to
massage his neck."
After Henry: De-Demonising Miller
by Barry Baldwin
"Henry Miller has been ill-served by both defenders and detractors.
Muddle begins at the simple bibliographical level. Kingsley Widmer calls
his first biography (by Jay Martin, 1978) "co-operative"; Ronald
Gottesman dubs it "unauthorised"; Mary Dearborn and Karl Orend
(TLS, June 20, 2003) assert Miller tried to quash it." The
first nonfiction essay published by Sliptongue, by distinguished scholar
Sex Doctor Chronicles: Pavlov’s Pussy
I am a sex doctor, so I don’t deal with animals. The only exception
was a mule that I met in Amsterdam, but that’s a surprisingly boring
story. Instead I work with gorgeous little nymphomaniacs from around the
world, and I am telling you that I can provoke their vaginal secretions
simply by ringing a bell. This may sound insane, but I have proven it
during one five-day-long experiment. I took on the project after making
a bet with Mr. Garza, a personal friend and a famous entrepreneur in the
"Dad wished the doc had just shot him right then. To live under a
death sentence, to feel time running out with nothing to do about it,
seemed to make life not worth living. He got so depressed he couldn't
take care of himself. Everything seemed too much trouble."
"When I drew near my truck, a pink light came on above me, and it
shot through my fuzzy mind that this—the sudden wash of pinkness—might
be another effect of the methylene chloride. But then I looked up and
saw a large lilac bush, heavy with thick white flowers, and behind it
a wooden apartment house, and above the white-tipped lilac, two stories
up, a casement window glowing softly with a warm pink light. In a moment,
the girl stepped to the window."
"They were the epitome of sophistication and urbane modern living.
The men had long been vasectomized, completely relieving their marriages
of pregnancy scares and latex fluid barriers. The couples were close and
getting closer. The Montridge Eight gatherings elicited flirtatious behavior
that grew stronger over the years. It began with one foot finding another
under the table, or venturing further, toes slowly massaging a crotch.
Hands would sneak inside waistbands from behind."
by Flavian Mark Lupinetti
"Furthermore, as in similar acts of an athletic nature, the art of
Tongue Fu requires the development of the supportin’ muscles as
well. Even the strongest tongue can fatigue early if you neglect the deltoids
and the traps and the sternocleidomastoids, which could lead to your lettin’
up on the reins just as your filly is nearin’ the finish line. Which
is just plain embarrasin’."
by Kevin Brown
"Behind him, on the big screen TV, this Asian chick’s
taking it in the out way. Her palms pressing her tits together, her hair
cinched in roped pigtails. Mouth O’d the way Kalli’s is now.
Mike stands and says, 'Babe, this is not what it looks.' Noticing the
shadow of his prick on the wall, he holds a hand out mime-style and says,
'At least I’m not cheating,' and she says, 'Yeah, at least there’s
and the Library
by Kris Saknussemm
"Perched on the tall ladder, your skirt falls in such a way, that
by standing behind the ladder I can not only glimpse, but luxuriantly
examine, the curve of your ass. If I move forward, slipping between the
ladder and the shelf, I can look up and see your pussy just above me…and
more than that. Stopped still in mid air above me, I am close enough to
catch your scent…"
for Laughs: Angie & Ella's Summer of Delirium; Chapter One: Overture
by Robert Scott Leyse
Park (Closest approximation of natural wilds any town could hope to have!)
always tosses me off-balance in a good way, teeters me towards being rasher
than my already rash self; yesterday, the effect was heightened. I was
vividly—almost unbearably—aware of every flying, scampering,
noisy sustenance-craving creature; my blood was ahum with the struggle
each living thing shares—the never quiet urge to prolong its stay
on earth and propagate itself!"
the Summer Moonlight
"I had come dressed appropriately to garner attention from both the
management and band members, should I be able to meet them. Doors do seem
to open for a pretty girl in the male world of metal music. I wore short-shorts,
four-inch ankle tie sandals and a top cut low enough that some white skin
on the tops of my breasts became sunburned from first ever exposure. Most
of the fans were teenage males who secretly cast glances my way, but were
never bold enough to approach. Thank goodness it was clear I was not there
Tango in Manhattan
"So both of us are causalities of the love wars. We get along pretty
well as roommates. Instead of paying rent, he does the cooking and cleaning.
Some of my friends joke about me having a live-in male maid, but I don't
see it that way. It's just division of labor. At first I had to put some
pressure on him to get him to raise his housekeeping standards above bachelor
slob level, and his culinary skills are still in the learn-by-doing stage,
but we've got a functioning living unit going here."
by Harry Johnson
"The woman's face was visible now. Her eyes were shut tight, clenched.
Her lips were pursed in anguish. She had a pretty face. Her features were
strong: arrogant chin, high cheekbones, and a proud forehead. Her neck
was long and feminine and yet sinewy and muscular. Her ears were pierced,
but there was no sign of earrings. Her torso was smeared with their blood.
The bullets that had killed the man had penetrated her rib cage just beneath
her right breast. Nick’s mind whirred like a high-powered computer,
calculating how he fit into this scene."
own idea of what words mean. Newest definitions will always appear below.
Biographical Guidance: Roman
Emperors and Empresses
Sliptongue Vocabulary Guidance -- Newest
institution of higher learning, where many a young man has obtained
a much needed indoctrination into the mysteries of life. As Kirk
puts it: "Before Uncle Tim took me to the cathouse in the swamp
in Mississippi I was an inept, bumbling, pathetic, girl-shy idiot!
I mean, Sylvia-Sue used to torment me without mercy in math class
with those pink panties of hers! Used to sit across from me and
spread until those pink panties were in plain sight; and, try though
I might not to, I'd always go red in the face and get dizzy! Cruel
Sylvia-Sue! She made no bones about laughing at me! She'd start
to giggle right there in class; and all the other girls knew why,
though -- thank God -- none of the guys did! But after I spent that
afternoon with Lascivia in the cathouse and got to see and touch
and taste and fuck first hand the pink that awaits behind all pink
panties… Well, suffice to say that Sylvia-Sue didn't laugh
at me again! How so? Because, now that I'd been shown what's what
and knew what to do, I came to an understanding with Sylvia-Sue
in the parking lot the following Tuesday during lunch hour and had
a fine lunch of pink pussy in the backseat of her car! No longer
unnerved by the sight of her pink panties, I was pulling them down
her sleek legs and tossing them aside: one visit to the cathouse
turned my life around! Sylvia-Sue continued to flash me during math
class, but the sight filled me with thoughts of fun to come; instead
of being paralyzed with confusion, I was rapt with appreciation!"
when a female, sensing that a male is rapidly losing patience with
her bratty behavior and is about to shove her out the door, strips
off every stitch of clothing to prevent him from doing so. Once
the said female is stark naked, she glares defiantly; often, she
makes comments such as: "So, Mr. Smart One, what are you going
to do now?," "As you can see, I'm not leaving
until I want to!," or "You'd better tell me you
love me, and make it mighty convincing!" Adds St. Fond: "And
the minxes are right: what guy is going to toss a naked girl outside?
The moment they strip, they're holding all the cards and they know
it! And don't bother with seeking to dress them against their will,
either: it can't be done! Believe me, I've tried! Doesn't matter
if she's a petite thing: if she doesn't want her clothes on, they're
not going on! The instant you try it, she's a squirming enraged
cat: not a chance of getting her arms inside those sleeves! So,
you're stuck: might as well be tactful and say the things she wants
to hear and cuddle awhile and wait until she puts her clothes on
voluntarily; because, until then, you've got company!"
game played by New York cab drivers. Occasionally, out-of-town males
request to be taken on a tour of streets frequented by hookers so
that they can stare at the skimpily clad lovelies while persuading
themselves they're acquiring a seamy-side-of-life experience. So
the cab driver, in order to treat them to a far more up close and
personal experience, vigorously honks the horn while gesturing for
the girls to come hither and pointing towards the back seat. The
girls, mindful of making some money, come running and hop in the
back -- something that generally throws the out of town males into
a great deal of consternation. "I'm doing them the favor of
jarring them from observational mode into panic mode," declares
Donny, a driver at the Midland garage. "I mean, panic's a far
more memorable emotion, right? I'm giving them an experience they'll
remember! I'm enriching their lives! Not to mention treating myself
to some fun! The looks on their faces when the girls they were gawking
at in safety are suddenly sitting next to them, aggressively plying
their trade… Well, it's priceless! It's the 'What have we
gotten ourselves into now?' look! It's discomfort rapidly spilling
over into terror! Later on, after they've vigorously protested and
compelled me to ask the girls to leave, I play it innocent and say:
'Sorry, I thought that's what you wanted.' Ha! Ha! Ha!"
for Laughs |
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by Rob Stuart
up over your arms and your head, / Thighs open wide and pudendum
on show, / I
can’t help thinking you look like you’re dead.
Back the Clock
by Hal O'Leary
known, I do not jest, / I need to get this off my chest / A female
would say 'off my breasts, / That is if she were like Mae West."
by Hal O'Leary
"Should you be on a sexual quest,
/ Take this advice at my behest. / The starting point I find the
best / Is always with a woman's breast,"
by Fran Higgins
"There’s a phenomenon that happens to a woman
– / nothing like it really happens to a man – / when
you’re walking and your bra just pops right open, / and the
cool air hits your titties like a fan."
Queen of Queens
by Sophie Kaner
"O, Queen of Queens, most worshipped and adored, /
You rule my spirit, body, loins, and heart. / O, siren, take not
more than I afford, / For else I can do naught but fall apart."
by Hal O'Leary
"I'm standing here along the shore, / With
pleasant breeze, the sea aroar, / The sky is dark with stars galore,
/ The moon is one you can't ignore,"
by Nigel Holt
"So cold my love, but the shiver down the spine /
is mine. Her breath is stilled, her lips, so blue / that even pressure
from my colubrine / will not charm her cheek into a ruddy hue."
by Nigel Holt
"I wouldn’t kneel and tell you lies / my head
between your Brazilian thighs, / for every word that passed your
knees / I’d speak in tongues of Portuguese."
and Love Don’t Mix
by Kathryn Jacobs
"Tie down your feelings first; it’s
anal, but / we all know life gets sloppy. Thermoses / are good investments:
why? The lids stay on. / Whereas at Stop-n-Go – folks, life’s
"A woman can, at times, embitter us / With what at
first resembles an affront / By asking that we tongue her clitoris
/ Before we lade our treasure in her cunt."
"She polished off his apple, then she tried / to instigate
another round. She yearned / to grapple under covers, was denied
/ because of how she carelessly had burned"
"I love to coït
with you at dawn – / not to fuck and not to screw. / The one’s
anathema to Pooh; / the other, a thing too many do –"
Girl from Baku
"I once idly wandered the wharfs of New York,
/ like Charles L. Dodgson, but hunting for snork, / and found there
a girl set to pass on review: / a cunningly cute parvenue."
by Paul Stevens
feel it rising in my sap -- / a hot and heady power, / the urge
to be the force that through / the green fuse drives the flower."
Scrolling of the Letters in Your Name
by Kimberly Duncan
"They say the devil planted one foot in me.
/ They say with demons I have been possessed. / They say that Lucifer
is my new suitor / And I succumb again to your caress."
lusts and cravings thrill the female mind / that I can write a sonnet
from?' he asks; / 'Can I compose a woman, whose behind / is pumped
chock full of phallus, till she basks..."
by Robert Scott Leyse
"Aimee knows how to dress, and it's for undressing
-- / To see the engaging sight's truly a blessing: / First, she
squirms free of her fur -- a movement replete / With abundant smiling
pauses, teasingly sweet."
by Brent Futo
"I came across two sisters, / Their names were
Day and Night. / The one it seems was wholly wrong, / The other
"Judy was bored at work, staring
at the wall, / Ready to scamper screaming down the hall; / But now
she's quite content: why is that? / Seems she's pinkie-probing her
Are Sexual Beings by Nature
"A passing glance, a New Year’s kiss, / Becomes
a lurid incident, / A turning point, a fall from grace"
Long as She's a Bitch!
Robert Scott Leyse
"I'm not over finicky, am easy
to please – / Capable of falling for a wide range of tease.
/ Only one condition I count, one little hitch: / A girl's got to
be a strife sowing bitch!"
by Brent Futo
"Your pulse is my passion, / Your passion, my pleasure.
/ My tongue will engorge your / Sweet clitoral treasure."
Via Strife (Missy's Love)
by Robert Scott Leyse
"My understanding blurs and sight dissolves; / About Missy's
behind the room revolves: / Where's the ceiling? Where are the walls?
/ I'm lapping with tongue, making wildcat calls!"
Emperors & Empresses
Sextasy in the Cathedral (I)
length I found myself facing a life-sized marble statue of an attractive
female Saint: she was on her back on the ground, arms and legs flung
out at her sides, wavy hair streaming in every direction; her head
was tossed back, her eyes were half closed, an expression of rapture
suffused her face. The beauty of her face, slender symmetry of her
body, commenced to have an effect on me..."
Sextasy in the Cathedral (II)
shoved myself harder against her and her body eagerly returned the
pressure, insistently quivered; a rapid series of deep sigh-like
breaths continued to pass in and out of her mouth; her sable coat
-- as if by magic -- slid backwards, revealing the full length of
her left thigh; in another moment I was kneading its soft nakedness
(she wasn't wearing stockings) with both hands and her coat was
flung over all, a concealing veil."
Kinky Kicks on Company Time
have I not had sex at the firm? and what sexual practices have I
failed to indulge in at the firm? and when have I not been able
to laugh at conceited disciplinary idiots at the firm, on account
of all the fun I was having in the immediate vicinity? That incomparably
cute full-figured Catholic girl first comes to mind -- so sexily
clothed in a conservative manner -- cashmere turtleneck sweaters,
pleated skirts of a respectable length, everything stylish but simple..."
Kinky Kicks on Company Time
a steady buildup of anticipation -- impatient desire -- followed
by the consummation of it! The inner dips and rolls, awashings of
the soul! The Catholic lovely and I became connoisseurs of the difference
between hunger and the surrender to it; we invented a diversion,
which we labeled The Sharp Contrast Game."
Kicks on Company Time (III), or Cubicles and the Cutsie Club
in any workplace there are unhappy, depressed, stupid people whose
only pleasure in life is killing the happiness of others, and seeking
to have things run according to the dictates of their dismal personalities;
so you've got to -- I repeat, got to! -- counterbalance their unhealthy
influence by having sex under their noses at work as much as possible!"
Appearance and disposition of Messalina
Saph, businesswoman. "Sir, feel free to reach up and masturbate
the slut: that's what she's paid for!"
Reverend Themsley discovers the wilder
side of pleasure. "Give me pink love-flowers, slippery flesh-petals,
moist bushes! Permit me, please, to water those bushes! -- to part
wide the petals, thrust deep with tongue, lap up all the nectar!"
begs to differ with the stern pronouncements of his wife.
"Oh, shit! I don't believe it! My death-in-life fun-hating prude
bitch of a wife's on the butcher's front steps! Quick, Chastity,
get down! -- crouch in the ditch, my life depends on it!"