Recommended: Lusting for Nymphets by Dr. Garth Mundinger-Klow

From Olympia Press.

TABOO TOO TRUE!

It’s one of society’s most taboo subjects, along with incest: when adult men lust for, and seduce, young girls who are not of legal age. But it happens, and it happens a lot, as the following case histories attest. Some call these young girls “jailbait.” Another term is “nymphet.”

In Dr. Garth Mundinger-Klow’s most controversial socio-sexual study to date, seven men confess to their experiences with nymphets, lusting for and seducing girls from the ages of 10-17. These men introduce and instruct, and sometimes learn a new thing or two from their tender young lovers. Needless to say, no kink is left unexplored!

These case studies are not for the politically correct, and expose man’s

DARKEST DESIRES!

Desperate Women by Michael Hemmingson (Olympia Press/New Traveller’s Companion #160, 2010)

Seven sinful, shameful stories of haunting, sensual and romantic desperation–one woman will do anything to keep winning in Las Vegas; another woman will do anything to keep her married lover while another woman desperately uses her body to blackmail men, until her own lustful greed backfires on her. Two young women turn to much older men for education and salvation while a desperate and lonely housewife falls in love with a man she only knows through email.

A story from the collection, “I Paid the Whore,” is online this week at Beat to a Pulp.

My Sister, My Sin – Terence Fitzbancroft (Ophelia Press, 1968)

A classic title from Maurice Girodas’ American version of The Olympia Press, the Ophelia imprint which tended to offer more down market erotica.

Who was Terence Fitzbancroft?  Unknown.  He only write two books for Ophelia, the other being The Shape of Desire. However, it seems the new Olympia Press, while reprinting the two Fitzbandcrofts in ebook and POD formats, have issued some “lost” books by the guy, listed here — The Sex Machine Peddlers, Sin Tape, and Naked Neighbors.

Yes, the title tells it all — this is an incest tale about two siblings in their teens, told from the POV of the brother, “Terry.”  The sex is graphic, being a 1968 publication, and certainly perverted, being incest, but the prose is rather smooth and literate, unlike other Ophelia titles of the time that I have picked up.

Terry and Sandy have been shuffled from one boarding school to one camp and another as the marriage of their parents falls apart; now that the divorce is happening, they spend the summer with their grandmother on their mother’s side until the divorce details and custody is figured out.  The novel opens:

One morning in the summer of my fourteenth year I woke up with a much stiffer and thicker erection than any my young loins had ever before sustained. (p.1)

This is a dysfunctional family beyond brother and sister — their parents fight a lot and the father is a drunk.  Terry confesses to Sandy, his sister, about something strange that happened a few years earlier: their father came into his room, very drunk, and spanked young Terry for some unknown crime; this act caused Terry to have an erection — he liked the spanking — and when the father noticed this, he sucked his son off.

In many ways, this reminded me of George Baitaille’s Story of the Eye — two young people exploring extreme sexuality, going further as they get bored with each new step.  Terry and Sandy try out S/M, pain, anal sex, whatever happens to tickle their fancies and fantasies.

She was obviously enjoying it as much as I was.  She was half-naked, having put on a pair of short-shorts, but still topless so that her breasts jiggled and bounced as she beat me.

“Can’t you hit any harder than that?” I said.

She complied. “You must be some kind of masochist.” she said.

“What a masochist?”

“That’s a guy who gets a hard-on when people kick him around, especially girl people.” (p. 74-5)

and:

She squealed and struggled, trying to wiggle free, but I held her down easily and proceeded to suck and bite her breasts savagely. The harder I bit her nipples, the harder and hotter they became […] A Large, blood-sucked bruise surrounded her left nipple; above and below the bruise were distinct teeth marks.

“You must be a sadist,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“A guy who gets a hard-on trying to bite off girls’ nipples.” (p. 76)

But such love is bound to head for disaster…Terry is possessive of his sister, so jealous that he wants to beat up the boy who took her virginity a year ago.  When Terry has a quick fuck with 16 year old Kitty, Sandy flips her lid…

And then their mother catches them in the act, and all hell breaks loose.  Sandy is sent away, and then Terry’s alcoholic mother starts looking at Terry differently, and thus the Oedipal happens.

An original 1968 Ophelia might be hard to find, but the new Olympia Press has reprinted it in ebook and POD format, and it’s also up at Google Books.

Definitely worth reading.

Dr. Garth Mundinger-Klow’s So Lovely the Feet

Olympia Press has released in ebook format Dr. Garth Mundiger-Klow’s latest work of qualitative case studies in human sexual research, So Lovely the Feet: Case Histories of a Footloose Fetish.

Or Kindle.

Recommended: Torrid Wenches! by Gabriel Kellgren and Ex-Virgin by Orrie Hitt (Olympia Press)

Olympia has published in e-book format Torrid Wenches by G. Kellgren and also Ex-Virgin by Orrie Hitt.

 

 

 

The Housewife’s Guide to Auto-Erotic Devices in the Home by Jane Long (Greenleaf Classics, 1970)

This is one hilarous book, from William Hamling’s Greenleaf as it headed into the 1970s under the helm of Earl Kemp.

Jane Long is, I think, Linda DuBriuel…reads like her style.

This is a faux “sex study” where the author interviews various housewives to find out how they get off while the hubby is away and all they have at hand are common household items.

Many women in my life have confided to me their discovery, a teenagers or earlier, the certan joys of shower nozzles, candle holders, and kitchen utensils.  These things happen.  Read this confession  from this book:

I was vacuuming out the bedroom, I remember, and I was in my usual summertime house-cleaning costume, which is to say, I was nude. Okay, there’s my narcissism coming out again, I know, but it’s just the way I like to operate. Well, there I was stripped to the buff and whirling around that apartment like nine devils were after me. I hadn’t realized that I had this erotic mood coming over me until all of a sudden I looked up and saw myself in the mirror, across the bed. I had the vacuum cleaner tube in one hand; I’d been vacuuming off the baseboards.

I’ll have to admit that I do think I have just as nice a body as those girls who pose for magazine centerfolds. Not that I’ve ever actually seen any of those models in the flesh, but lots of the men passengers leave their magazines behind, you know, and some of them have mighty revealing pictures.

Anyway, as I was saying, I stood there turning this way and that, admiring myself in the mirror. I moved over closer to the mirror so I could see more detail, especially down between my legs, the part I most like to look at. You see, I have this peculiarity: I have a lot of hair up high, on the love mound itself, but I’m nearly bald, I guess you’d call it, down where the lips and clitoris are. It’s odd, or I think so, but it makes it handy for viewing, if that’s what a person likes—and I like it.

I accidentally touched the vacuum cleaner tube to the skin of my thigh as I was standing there admiring myself. It attached itself to my thigh, right on the inner side, about halfway between my knee and my crotch. I pulled it off, impatient with myself for dawdling around, but then I realized it had felt sort of good when I tried pulling it off. Even my thighs get very sensitive to the touch when I’m excited like that, and I saw that I’d hit upon something very interesting.

A recommnded funny sleaze read, and example of Greenleaf Classic’s heydey.  It’s hard to find and pricy but seems Olympia Press has turned it into an e-book over here.

Sex doesn’t always have to be dark and serious.  As my colleague Larry McCaffery has often said, “Too many people never appreciate how humor there is in sex.”  He’s right: when you think about it, all that groping and coupling is hilarous.

Recommended: Splendor in the Dorm Room by Sandra Boise

Olympia Press has published a nifty lesbian D/s novella, Splendor in the Dorm Room by Sandra Boise.

Recommneded.

Kindle here.

Recommended: The Golden Fetish by Dr. Mundinger-Klow

Olympia Press has put out Garth Mundinger-Klow’s latest study in human sexuality, The Golden Festish.  This one comes highly recommended, as are all his studies.

AIMEE & CHLOE by Valerie Grey (Olympia Press)

Olympia Press just reprinted as an e-book a collection of two novellas, Aimee and Chloe: Two Sordid Stories of Sin and Incest by Valerie Grey.

Also out in paperback here.

Where have I read the first one, “Aimee and Her Father,” before?  It seems vintage but may be imitating the style, set in the 1920s, about a consensual affair between a young female writer and her father — sounds like the same set-up in Anais Nin’s memoir, Incest.  The sex is pretty graphic, even with a dash of beastiality.

“Chloe” is set in the 1960s with incest as an experiemnt in free love. A strange tale with the father becoming a Christian and wanting to stop the affair but the daughter doesn’t want to stop, and they have a child together (no webbed feet).

Taboo topics done with grace and poetry. Incest was not really handled in bright lghts in the softcores until the 70s, when things got hardcore, even the covers were explict, as seen below.

One publisher, Suree House, from ex-Greeleaf employees and located in El Cajon, Calfornia, specalized in incest fiction, even with pedophilia.  These were mafia-connected companies; the mob seemed to think there was a market for this smut, and indeed there was.

Today, incest is only “a hot seller” in memoirs, like that Kathryn Harris autobiography a few years back.  Incest is always a topic for grand literature — from the Bible yo Joyce Carol Oates to seedy private eye yarns.

In some lesbian novels, incest (like rape) is often an impetus for the character to turn to women for the third theme of love.

Thoughts on Eye-Catching Book Covers

The great art found on 1940s-60s bools — not just sleaze, sex, and sin, but all paperback genres — were meant to catch the eye: when a customer saw the cover on the newsstand or bookstore, they would pick it up out of great curisoity: is the cover as good as the story inside?  Sometimes people bought the books on covers alone, just as collectors do today (collecting Bonfils or Rader, they don’t care about the text).

I never heard of these two books below, for instance, or the writers, and have no idea what they are about, I just now got them on eBay because I liked the covers:

Look at those bosoms on that Bonfils art!  Push-up 50s bras!

And Twisted — the cover seems to hint at incest.  From a Beacon?  I don’t know yet, but I have a feeling the cover is misleading, that the girl’s father is strict and mean and she takes off and rebels, and not that her father is the man on the cover wanting to prove that incest is best in some sort of gutter laden lust of shame!

I am often annoyed when the cover is indeed misleading, if the girl on the cover does’t match the main character.  Bonfils always illustrated a scene in a Nightsand book, unlike Midwoods where Harry Shorten would buy art and have writers compose something around it, or just attach art to a book that doesn’t quite fit the story, like Mel Johnson’s Instant Sex.

In the 1970s and 80s, sex books started to use photos of real people models, believing that is what customers wanted.  Perhaps they did, and perhaps paying a model a few dollars was cheaper than commissioning original art.  I don’t care much for photo covers, and they tend to not fit the stories either.  This is true for today’s erotic books — at Blue Moon Books, sometimes the Avalon art dept. just randomly slapped some photo they had in stock (sometimes even putting the same one on two books); and they would put modern age women on Victorian novels.  Some of my Blue Moon covers I hated, like The Dress —

The dress in the novel is short and black, and the female character is blonde  — the other female is a red-head.  So who the hell is this on the cover supposed to be?

(Note: The Dress is being made into a sexy art film in New York soon, after three years of development, and is available in ebook format at Olympia Press, or you can get it used online.  I wrote it as a novella in 1996, published in The Mammoth Book of New Erotica (edited by Maxim Jakubowski) in 1997; I then expanded it as a full novel in 2001 for Blue Moon.  Of all my erotic books, this one has made the most money, mainly from the film option.)

Some covers I really liked, such as The Rooms —

I actually saw the cover before completing the book so I wrote a scene that describes the cover.

For Amateurs, I took my own cover photo —

This was a girl who lived nextdoor, she was from Argentina.  She had a website where she sold pix, and sometimes videos if her having sex with her boyfriend.  I was happy when she agreed to grace the cover of one of my books, just as another female friend appears on the cover of one of my Dr. Mundinger-Klow books:

But…they just don’t make paperback or hardcover covers like they used to in the 1940s-60s.  Some imprints imitate the look, like the Hard Case Crime books, and they are cool, but they are just retro — they have the look but not the spirit and the feel.

Here are some other covers that are great, worth the price of admission  alone, but tend to not reflect the actual novel — posted here for your eyeball’s fancy, because I know you’re reading this blog because you dig these nifty covers a much as any other vintage book fan does…