Stroke Book Salad Tossing
There are reasons the stroke books of the 70s and 80s up and vanished pretty much as soon as “real porn” on VHS tape became widely available. These cheap little paperbacks aren’t usually remembered with much fondness, except perhaps for their cover art (usually the best thing about them). The quality of the erotic prose inside is perhaps a large part of why. I can’t tell if this is a simple bit of salad tossing anal foreplay or a ritual cult sacrifice:
But Melanie had one more virginal orifice Jarvis wanted to explore.
“Turn over on your belly, baby,” he ordered huskily.
Obediently, Melanie rolled over. Jarvis’ eyes greedily swept down to the full, firm cheeks of her creamy, translucent ass. He ran his fingers down her back and dug them into the pliant, shimmering mounds of flesh. Spreading them apart, he revealed the sweet winking rosette of her unviolated asshole. It was pink and puckered and looked incredibly tight.
Jarvis scooted down and lowered his face slowly until it was inches away from the marshmallow-like lobes of her high, firm buns. He blew hot air between the quivering butt cheeks, and slowly leaned forward. Puckering his lips, he pressed them against the quivering bunghole, letting her buttocks close about his face. He forked out his tongue greedily and swiped it over the slick, tight anus, tasting the pungent flavor of it, his heart hammering violently in his chest.
Melanie’s body jerked and she gave an astonished gasp of pleasure. Jarvis was revealing to her erotogenic areas she had never imagined could be aroused before. Jarvis began to work his tongue back and forth rapidly, plunging the tip of it against the puckered maw, inserting it slowly into the tight, clenching muscle until it slid into the blazing, clutching interior of her colon.
A sob of dumbfounded delight broke in Melanie’s throat and she lifted her ass instinctively…
That’s a tiny excerpt from AG-109 Southern Tramp (#109 in the American Girls series, by an uncredited/anonymous author).
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These books are one of my guilty pleasures, actually. “Daddy Wore a Yellow Dress” is one, “Whip-Mistress in Lace” is another, “Rape-Horror in Iran” and so on. I bought a box of them in like 1980 or 1981 in the Combat Zone in Boston. Now I wish I’d found a way to buy the several hundred of them that were being sold. I
They are lurid, vulgar, often inappropriate, sometimes just disgusting. Poorly written pulp fiction “cranked” out en masse. And yes, the covers are awesome. Some of them are “illustrated” and acquiring the “art” inside them is generally difficult, if not impossible. One of the best illustrators of the BDSM series books or Bizarre Library was “Di Mulatto”.
I’d give a lot for even digital versions of them (the books, and yes, the illustrations) at this point, but they are few and far between.
Fuzzy, I’m a fan, too, obviously. But some of them are truly awful!
Some of these are to be treasured purely for the quality of their prose!