Since I’ve last talked to you I’ve gotten a new job and so off to work I go! It’s a pretty quiet place, not as overworked as at my last job. I suppose that gives me plenty of time to think. Still, there’s no telling how I came up with the idea to write a Loch Ness monster story.
Maybe it was the goatman?
I had a ton of fun writing a goatman monster erotica story and I think I should write another. After all, the more the merrier right? Heh. Now I just need a cover and this goatman and the rest of his herd can get busy!
My brain has also turned to Horrotica lately. I guess I’m on a creepy tangent. Horror, erotica, monsters, etc. A bit of magic and witchery thrown in. Characters who have to go up against terrible odds to get what they want and it might just kill them…. Sound like fun? Well than, let’s rock!
Speaking of rock, there’s nothing better than 80’s music to inspire me. I recently changed up the songs on my running MP3 player and added these to the mix:
Should I Stay or Should I go – The Clash
I Love Rock ‘n Roll – Joan Jett
Middle of the Road – The Pretenders
They of course join the Violent Femmes and other great 80’s music to keep me going strong. Yes, a few more current items sneak through – Maroon 5 for instance – but I still think the 80’s is the best!
Now for a quick preview taste of the Goatman:
Her gaze swept down his hair covered legs to his feet, which most decidedly were not human, and then back up where her attention naturally went to the space between his thighs. What she saw made her gulp.
Oh my word. She licked her lips and studied the massive horn-shaped human-looking cock pointed straight at her. A little paler than the rest of his skin, it accented nicely the creamy white of the horns atop his head. Except it was tinged with pink and instead of a point at the end, it bore a luscious rounded bulb a shade or two rosier than his shaft. The pronounced curve of his member made her pussy tingle with expectation imagining how wickedly good his shaft would feel within her. From her position on the fur pallet she only needed to scoot forward a tiny bit to touch the firm flesh and see for herself how much pleasure she could obtain. Straightening her spine, she glanced up at Goatman’s eyes and caught her breath at the blast of desire coming from them. No wonder he wasn’t sharpening his utensils.
He doesn’t want to eat me. He wants to fuck me.
BTW the mythological origin of all things goatman is related to the ancient Greek God Pan. Here’s a pic of him I stumbled across that should get your engines going even better than coffee. Yowsa!! I mean… wow!
And a happy Monday to you too!