An Aperitif
Meat Inheritance
Hartley Brufkin oggled me saucily as he sucked the final jellies of marrow from the lamb bone, as if to say 'I wish you were marrow jellies', or was it -- yes, my God! -- he was having a seizure.
Starlimber Quartet I
Dorf's stubby fingers electrified her, but Krina Starlimber knew it was wrong. Love between a woman and a midget was forbidden on Xanutar 10. How she wished she was on her own planet, which was Felatos 8, where the dangerous love between people of intensely varying heights would be celebrated, not condemned. But here on Xanutar 10, she was nothing more than a dusky, willful slave girl and Dorf was a pleasure dwarf.
Starlimber Quartet II
Nerfulos Quadrant (no place for a lady (!) (even with eight legs (!!))) was a better place for the hayze-crazed cybogribblets who, borfed up yet again on paste aminos, letch-stared at the eight-legged lady silhouetted in the EntroPortal who spoke one word alone: "I'm looking for Drooglegor!"
Mystery Entry
Frangipani Huppledean laughed a haughty, erotic laugh. A laugh like an ice cream sundae shared by strangers travelling in opposite directions who, on a foolish whim, once decided to share an ice cream. Like a puppy abandoned, found, abandoned again, found again and given to an orphan at Christmas. A laugh like the linen sheets of a honeymoon bed in the rain. Ha ha ha! This was the sound of the laugh. The laugh of a charlatan.
Diamond Rivals
The face of Heryiott Steele came into the room before the rest of him, and if it wasn't for the defined and erotic proportions of his body, one might have forgotten the body because of his face. Heryiott Steele's face was like a chiselled pear, musty and dripping with power and success. Protina fantasized erotically about Heryiott laying on a bed of fresh rocket salad with Parmesan shavings and walnut oil dressing — the perfect accompaniment to a man whose face was like a chiselled pear.
Felicitude
"You play the harmonium like an angel licks the stars," said Mr. Stickledean, resting proudly on the edge of the instrument.
"Why you quite belie me," retorted Mauve, erotically. "If it weren't for my father's small estate, I might easily ..." Mauve fell silent.
"Yes," said Mr. Stickeldean, probing the folds of her armpits with his eyes. "You might easily ..."
"I don't know," said Mauve. "I feel like a different person. Ever since Silkifinger unseated me and ..."
Blind, erotic Fate would not allow her to finish, however, as at that moment, Cresillssa stormed into the ballroom, drenched transparent with the lashing rain and clutching the one thing that could change Mauve's life for ever — Belstace, her illegitimate child and the father of her cousin.
Sunchoke - an allegory
With an erotic tilt of her nut-brown head, Pearletta wrung the final sunchoke over her mandolin. There would be plenty of her famous Saratoga chips for the feast tonight. And none so much more as for her powerful husband, Minipelchio. They called him The Bull, because he was strong, glistening and black, and because he was a bull. Pearletta was a cow, the daintiest, most beautiful, erotic cow in all of Fantalucia.