I’m part of an Internet book club, which is to say, a book club conducted on the Internet that rarely involves real books. But it does involve stuff like this: The International Jurassic Park Erotic Fan-Fiction Writer’s Association, a site that has stories covering pretty much every facet of dinorotica.

I’m part of an Internet book club, which is to say, a book club conducted on the Internet that rarely involves real books. But it does involve stuff like this: The International Jurassic Park Erotic Fan-Fiction Writer’s Association, a site that has stories covering pretty much every facet of dinorotica.

There’s dino-egg-induced masturbation (starring Newman):

“At the other end of the office, amidst the Pepsi cans and crisp packets, Nedry gazed at the stolen embryos on his desk, totally enraptured by the tiny unborn sex monsters. He was rocking a raging semi-on. Almost without realising it, Ray had unzipped his trousers. Reaching down, he took his pulsing dinosaur devastator firmly in hand and, lustful eyes dancing across the erotic show in front of him, began to viciously choke his raptor raper with a furious passion.”

Which gets taken to a more psychosexual level:

“As a single tear rolled down his shamefully fat face, he took a T-rex embryo and poured it into his mouth. Was ingestion the ultimate act of love, Dennis wondered? This action of consuming a beast, of being joined at a gut level, absorbing their life into yours? Was his love of eating just as pure and valid as his love for the park creatures? Right now, Dennis wasn’t as concerned with these questions, he just wished T-rex embryos tasted more like Pepsi and less like undercooked spunk.”

Then there’s simple man-on-dino action (starring Goldblum):

“Blood was just beginning to drip from the creature’s jaw as Malcolm exploded his unspliced, Mosquito free DNA down its throat and screamed “CHAOS THEORY!!!” at the top of his lungs.”

And of course, more complicated man-on-dino action:

“It was this final image that threw Malcolm’s body into a sexual frenzy, his manhood erupting into his beast partner as tears fell down his face. He was in heaven, and yet ashamed of his appetites. He wiped himself off on the triceratops’s middle horn, kicked it in the face, and walked out slowly, leather trousers still around his ankles, tears streaming from his eyes.”

But most of the shit is dino-on-man, often multiple sexosaurs ravaging one delighted human (starring Dr. Grant):

“He was no longer Dr. Alan Grant: Palaeontologist, he was Dr. Alan Grant: Keystone of a Massive Dinosaur Fuckfest! He would have had the hardest ejaculation of his life, if that hole wasn’t currently filled with Gallimimus as well.” [What?]

Other characters tend to have as much of a fetish as the writers (starring the dude on the toilet):

“The Rex snorted, and then slammed Genarro against it’s fully erect and scaly Tyrannosword. It’s brutal, dripping cockhead forced it’s way between Genarro’s soft, fleshy buttocks and pulled them apart into a diameter of roughly one and a half feet. Genarro bellowed with agony as the member tore through the lining of his colon and thrust it’s way up towards his chest cavity. Back in the first vehicle, Grant and Malcolm began to jerk off. ”

But really what’s most impressive about these stories is the utter craft that the writers exhibit in their art:

“The following happened in the space of three seconds: The T-Rex roared in pure sexual lust as it moved, it’s massive dong hitting Ellie in the chest and lifting her in a pole vault style, straight into the waiting raptor’s love hole. Ellie again attempted to scream, but her head was now completely inside the beast, and her lower half was quickly turned to a bloody pulp at the hands of the tyrannosaur’s frantic thrusting. The raptor receiver groaned in a mixture of pain and beastly approval of this three way. As Ellie was discovering the true horror of being the condom in Tyrannosaurs/Velociraptor sex game, Grant emerged from the broken fossil remnants and preceded to teabag the dead raptor next to him.”

I particularly enjoy the site’s references to the ongoing conspiracy to keep quiet Sam Neill’s on-set affairs with velociraptors. There’s a Facebook page.

What? If you do enough trawling, you come across these things from time to time.

-DAP
GordonGartrelle.BlogSpot.com
MySpace.com/DasRacist

Related posts:

1. JEZEBEL: POT PSYCH IN THE PARK
2. BATTLES / BLACK DICE / GANG GANG DANCE: CENTRAL PARK