I write weird erotica because sex? Sex is weird. Let’s be honest here: when you get right down into the squelchy, heaving, multi-limbed mass of the thing, sex is weird. Hell, just being is weird. The fact that we are conscious entities parading around in flesh, and that flesh occasionally comes together to please itself and, when conditions are right, produce more flesh for other conscious entities to parade around in? Completely weird.
Most of the time, we simply don’t notice how odd this is,...
Published on April 14, 2013 23:58