Sunday Quickie: Where Ideas Come From

My bestie Tanya and I are both erotic fiction writers. We’re both married. Both of us are lesbian curious. So are our hubbies.

But we’re both too chicken-shit to figure out how to go down on each other.

She’s tall, blond, curvy in the right departments, and wears heels everywhere. I’m a bit shorter, a bit darker haired, and on the thin and pasty side with much smaller breasts.

So one dark and stormy night after the kids were tucked in bed, I had a few too many cherry wine coolers and Tanya had been abusing video games for too long. Feeling light-headed and bubbly, I suggested a challenge. Tanya and I had to write the weirdest ass erotica stories, and the winner—judged by our eager husbands—would go down on the loser. First drafts only, had to be finished before the sun came up.


I locked myself in my office with a gigantic thermos of coffee and a bowl of baby carrots, Tanya commandeered the guest bedroom. I set the timer on my cell phone, and then typed away, mindful to twist the plot every which way but the expected way. After the first scene, I was giggling maniacally. Another thousand words later, I had to take a pee break before a pee break took me by surprise. I wandered the house for a bit after that, stuck my head in the fridge, called myself a hack fifty-some times, and then tried to convince my husband to talk me out of this stupid challenge.

No go.

Only one thing left to do when stuck with a bad case of block. I went back to the computer, like I always do. And then I typed my heart out, and decided my writing career must be on the way downhill, because this story was turning to Crazy Town with no hope of a u-turn.

Finally, I printed my story out. Tanya finished hers shortly after me, around four in the morning. Bleary eyed, Todd and Frank read our tales out loud.

Mine consisted of a gerbil shapeshifter billionaire alpha-hole who is kidnapped by were-sharks with laser-beam eyes. After being dragged into an underwater grotto and then forced to give up his anal virginity, the Alpha Gerbil is magically transformed into a princess with pink hair and angst issues. After some handwaving, Alpha Gerbil Bitch returns to dry land, and begins her career as a dominatrix hooker who solves crimes.

Todd blew beer out his nose several times while reading this. Frank busted a vein laughing so hard. I hid in the corner of the couch. Tanya eyeballed me the entire time, as if she were saying “you’re mine, sucker.”

Frank licked his thumb and started reading his wife’s story next.

Hers started with a shirtless cowboy on horseback and he meets a English lit major on the range. Okay, this is tame, and I can almost feel Tanya’s tongue inside me now.

But then the story falls off a cliff. Literally.

The cowboy lifts the swooning girl onto his horse and trots off into the sunset… only to have the sun blind him as he rides off a cliff. He died with his boner inside the girl, at least. And then grey aliens in lab coats land in their flying saucer, and in the name of Alien Science they resurrect the two lovers and abduct them.

Deep in the outer fringes of space where no man has fucked before, the cowboy and his lady discover they were chosen to compete in an alien reality TV show, where they have to screw all manner of outer space life-forms.

Round One: The Hydra. Nine heads are better than one, and each has a preference on where to lick you.

Round Two: The Unicorn. Except this unicorn has a dick on its head as well as between its legs. Double penetration, anyone?

Round Three: The Tentacle Monster. Because no weird ass porn story would be complete without one. You never know which tentacle is invading you from where.

Of course, our cowboy hero and the damsel complete all the rounds, are crowned champions of alien reality TV, and then sent back to Earth to spend the rest of their lives wondering if any of that shit was real.

After the guys calmed themselves down, they take a break in the kitchen for another beer and to figure out who won.

Tanya looks at me. I look at Tanya.

“You gonna publish yours, Karen?” she said.

“Why?” I said. “You publishing yours?”

We locked eyes, and then burst out laughing.

“Who do you think won?” she said.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I certainly didn’t.”

“I couldn’t have won.”

“What if it’s a tie?”

I considered that. By the thoughtful and carefree expression on Tanya’s face, she thought the same thing. She got down on the floor on her back. I climbed on top, spreading my legs around her head. My head was between her legs. We were both still fully clothes and giggling.

“You like that?” I peeped between out bodies to make eye contact with her.

Tanya slapped my ass cheeks and grabbed hold of my hips. “Very much, baby.”

The guys must’ve gotten curious about what all the fuss was about, because they walked in right about then, beers in hand and startled expressions.

Tanya and I spit-laughed into each other’s crotches. I tried to roll off of her, but she was still holding onto my hips. We’re both laughing our asses off and wrestling each other in awkward positions. Whatever sexiness was there, was gone by the time I laughed hard enough to fart in Tanya’s face. She accidentally squeezed her thighs together, and thus put me in a headlock against her cooch. She never ‘fessed up, but I’m convinced she peed a little in her panties.

Our lesbian fantasy died a little that night.

But in its place, a business venture was born. Today, Gerbil Cowboy Press is a multi-million dollar publishing house that specializes in weird kink.

And with our misbegotten fortune, we lived happily ever after.


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Author: D. Anthony Brown

Indie writer and publisher. Among other jack-of-all-trade skills...

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