It also reminded me of a post I wrote for Chevallum’s Blog entitled The Perilous Path of Purple Prose - a warning against using ridiculous names for genitalia and setting a scene with over the top description.
NOTE: Sadly Crummy Novels is no longer available, but Liana’s reviews and comments on Romance stories provided many hours of red-faced giggling... Also, the following contains 18+ viewing, so if you’re not 18+ go away.
The Perilous Path of Purple Prose
A while ago a tale consisting of ‘purple prose’ made its way onto my paranormal romance writing email loop (try saying that fast after a few drinks) and has since appeared on Liana’s blog: http://crummynovels.wordpress.com/2011/03/31/semen-at-sea/
The author of Semen at Sea – Katalina Leon, did such a wonderful job of writing this excellent example; I left a comment suggesting she try her hand at more wet and salty adventures. Or perhaps even a period piece.
However, patience not being something I excel at, and needing a post for this blog – I’ve decided to try my own meager hand at purple prose. I don’t expect to reach Ms Leon’s exciting peaks, but I’ll try my best.
Lasciviousness & Lust or Mr Edward’s Proposal
Edward, a Regency buck whose wickedly muscular thighs were encased in breeches so tight the throbbing essence of his manhood threatened to burst free at any moment, spoke with highly restrained, passionate abandon caused by the impressively high starched points of his shirt collar.
“Emma, you must put aside your pride and prejudice and open your heart and quivering, wanton, yet virginal thighs to my bracingly stiff manhood and marry me forthwith.”
He paused, noble profile against a window overlooking the sunlit garden filled with flowers, amassed in an abundant profusion of gaily colored blooms. “I cannot wait to delve into the pink petals of your fragrant womanhood with my commanding staff, which is even now pearling liquid drops of my manly essence in expectation of the dewy folds of your moistened, wet, and drenched channel of love.”
Propping a Hessian boot so polished he could admire the twin weights of his heavy man jewels encased in taut buckskin in its shiny surface, he waited for Emma’s heartfelt yet curiously reserved reply.
“Edward I simply cannot indulge in this type of persuasion. My heaving bosom, with nipples like pink cherries, peeking delicately over the top of my indecently low bodice like sugarplums ready to be sucked is aflutter with your descriptions of Mansfield, the park to which you desire to whisk me, in order to sample the delicate nectar of my secret garden with your thrusting and impressively stiffened tongue.” She paused, clutching at her handkerchief in feminine confusion, her delicate fingers shaking from the rather enormous amount of laudanum she’d taken the night before. “I realize that sense and sensibility require me not to shrink from the attentions you will inflict on me in our tumbled marriage bed nor the piercing thrust of your turgid rod into my slick slit, swollen with desire for your cock’s musky essences.”
Her suitor took hold of her swooning form and whispered with fevered urgency into the carefully arranged, guinea golden, shining, silky curls covering her delicately pink, shell-like, ear. “Fear not my love, we shall flee north first to avoid your father’s anger and go to the Abbey. Wherein we shall be married and I will then sample the clenching delight of your slippery, glossy orchid with its fragrant scent redolent of my misspent youth in the Caribbean.”
Emma recovered from her vapors in time to admire the bursting at the seams, virile bulge at the front of Edward’s biscuit pantaloons. His heavy sac drew tight in front of her prettily lashed, fluttering, huge, blue eyes, ready to discharge, in heaving spurts, from his tumescent male tool, a salty gust of bountiful plenty.
Quite overcome, her white thighs gripped together against the flow of her love juices, underneath her indecently transparent, yet modest, morning dress. Emma put a graceful hand to her swanlike throat, which rose from the mounded apples of her plump breasts. The blush of her beaded nipples, hard as buttons, jutting with lusty shyness from her muslin gown, tempted Edward to abandon propriety utterly and taste the sweet, cinnamon, rose scented, lavender infused, flesh before his dark and brooding gaze.
“Be mine sweet Emma before my hard, aching, turgid tipped and mighty erection brings forth an unending stream of exotic delight into your cherished, heated muff, covered in moist curls that will part eagerly under my seeking male part.”
“Yes Edward yes!” Cried Emma, finally overcome by her lover’s pointed, well thought out arguments as to the benefits of matrimony for a girl well past her prime at nine and ten years of age.
They married in a fashionable ton wedding and lived happily every after.