“… the only people who really know (the Edge) are the ones who have gone over.” –Hunter S. Thompson, Gonzo journalist.
Take a ride with Daddy over the edge. You won’t forget the distinctively drawn (and extremely horny) characters you’ll meet between these pages. An eighteen year old carnival hand nurses a crush for his gorgeous blond employer. A voyeur and his exhibitionist girlfriend find a window to peek through. A woman awaits her man while crouched naked on the floor, rear end pointed toward the door. An attempted rape is thwarted. A spy bites the dust. A man dates and mates with a fifty-foot woman. Mood and a sense of atmosphere bring it all to life in these twenty one gems of erotic excess.
Excerpt From “Carnival Ride” (Rated PG)
All that night, Tim thought Lulu seemed changed from the previous years. Tired, he thought. Distracted. Maybe getting over some illness. He stuck around, nervous, while she counted the receipts after closing at midnight. Nobody had won anything.
“Does he hit you?” he blurted out, surprising himself that he’d actually said what he’d imagined so many times.
“Don’t you worry, Tim. I’ll be fine,” she said, stashing two twenties in a compartment in her wallet, then putting the rest in a tin strongbox.
In the past Hoyt would take it all.
“How’d we do?”
“Always good opening night,” she replied. “It usually gets less, after they see they ain’t gonna win anything. Embarrasses ‘em to lose.”
“Does it bother you, Lulu? Ripping people off all the time?”
“Nah. See how they flock in? Every friggin’ year. Year in, year out, they come to get took. These hot summer nights—like the moths flittin’ around them lights, Tim—all they think about is gettin’ drunk and gettin’ laid.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “That’s the way it is for guys, for sure.”
“The girls are lookin’ for it too, honey,” she pointed across the dusty lot. “Still a few floatin’ around. There’s a couple of cuties over on that last Ferris wheel ride, son. You’s off work now. Go hang by the gate where they get off.”
“I’d just as soon talk to you.”
“Aww, you sure are a good one, Tim. You want a cold beer? I got some over in the trailer.”
“I’ll follow you,” he said hopefully.
“Nope. You better stay here,” she winked. “No telling who’s watching. Don’t want no rumors gettin’ back to ol’ Hoyt.”
While Lulu sashayed to her trailer, Tim waited alone at the booth, watching her illuminated figure slink into the humid black void surrounding the strings of harsh bulbs. Thinking how he could get her somewhere. Somewhere alone.
About the Author
Daddy X always wanted to be a dirty old man.
He survived the 40’s, 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, 80’s, 90’s, and George W. Bush. He maintained an (almost) steady trajectory through Catholic school, a paper route, muskrat trapping, a steel mill, Bucks County, the Haight Ashbury, North Beach, the SF bar business, drug addiction, alcoholism, a stroke, hep C, cancer, a liver transplant, a year of chemo, a stickup at his art gallery while tied to a desk (not as cool as it sounds), a triple bypass, heart attack…and George W. Bush.
Now he’s old, and it’s time to get dirty.
He’s been with Momma X (greatest editor on earth) for fifty years, but she thinks his stuff is too skievy to deal with. They live in northern California with a ninety pound lop-eared hound (17” wingspan) and two cats. Daddy is also published in anthologies by Naughty Nights Press, House of Erotica and most recently in Cleis Press’ Best Bondage 2015.