Nights of the Perfumed Tentacle

Nights of the Perfumed Tentacle was the title of a xenopornographic book by Jason Kane.

These recollections were based on Jason's actual sexual experiences. (PROSE: Beige Planet Mars)

Excerpts from the book

• "...all I wanted was tentacle. Long, flaccid, marvellous tentacle. Tentacle! Tentacle! Tentacle! Tentacle! The rubbery grip of tentacle. The wonderful, pink-fleshed suction pads of tentacle. Tentacle's moist embrace. I couldn't get enough. As I luxuriated in the dark green smell of freshly pleasured Earth Reptile, I realised that one partner was no longer enough to satisfy me. I was a man. A virile man. I had needs. Needs which only the denizens of Alexander 3 could satisfy. Denizens who knew every trick, every technique which could satisfy a man. A virile man with needs such as mine. Down on your knees and suck my reptilian pseudo-pod," barked the Elder. He didn't have to ask twice. I dropped to my knees and reverently took his blunt khaki protuberance between my..."
• "...softened flesh spread like custard on the pie of my face. As I greedily sucked on the voluminous cloaca before me, I felt a strange co-mingling of shame and enjoyment. I realised in that moment, as the taste of milk and honey filled my mouth, that society's conventions, that the law, that the other zookeepers, could all be damned. This felt so right, so natural. Suddenly liberated, I shifted, allowing her to reciprocate the favour. Her flippers brushing against me, she marvelled at my body hair as I marvelled at her smooth, smooth flesh. As her plump fronds unfurled, releasing their sweet nectar, her husbands responded, swimming joyously towards..."
• "...She moaned with pleasure, stinging me again, because she could, because I was hers to command. I looked down at the weals on my chest, unable to believe that pain could be so sweet. "We eat our mates," she gurgled. She wanted to hurt me, she wanted control. But by demanding mastery, it came to me, my mistress had become my servant. I knew what she wanted, and now I could withhold it. And I had power over her. She knew it, too. I saw it in some of her eyes. She gasped, millennia-old conventions swept away in moments. Without another word, she rolled over on to her thorax, volunteering her wrists. I needed no further encouragement — I took the golden binders that so recently had marked me out as her slave, I slipped them on to her, held her carapace down as I..."