I Got Erotica Master Chuck Tingle to Workshop My Dinosaur Erotica
LatestI think in a way we all wish we were Chuck Tingle. Increasingly notorious for being the author of modern classics like Pounded by the Gay Unicorn Football Squad, My Billionaire Triceratops Craves My Ass, and Pounded in the Butt by My Own Butt, Tingle is one of the leading lights in the monster erotica movement—and a reminder that we live in a world in which it is not uncommon for authors to make sizable amounts of money writing eBooks featuring explicit encounters between man and beast. That’s just a thing now, and we might as well accept it. Tingle, in particular, is a self-professed master of the “tingler,” which he describes as “a story so sensual, so erotic, and so powerfully gay that it will change the whole way you look at erotic romance literature.”
The enigmatic author is fixated by unicorns, Bigfoot, and dinosaurs, but he isn’t above opportunism: one of his stories is called Pounded by the Gay Color Changing Dress. I can’t vouch for the quality of that particular tale, but I have had the pleasure of reading Gay T-Rex Law Firm Executive Boner, an action-packed 17-pager that contains stirring prose like the following: “Of course, that’s only the beginning of what these ancient monsters have in store for my ripped body. Almost immediately, the T-rex that had picked me up in the first place then positions himself in front of me. Two more of the prehistoric lawyers approach from either side and hold my legs back, spreading me open completely as I’m hammered up the ass from below.”
I don’t know about you, but I can’t read lines like that without wanting to get inside the mind of their author. And thus, in a bid to emulate the success of Mr Tingle, I took it upon myself to try my hand at the noble art of dinosaur erotica, as well as contact Tingle in search of some helpful comments about my work. The 43-year-old—whose answers here should be treated with about 10 pounds of salt—claims to be a doctor and Tae Kwon Do grandmaster from Billings, Montana, “near the Kmart and the Starbucks.” He says that because he is a doctor from DeVry University he cannot reveal his true identity; his first name is Charles, he says, but his last name remains a secret. He follows one person on Twitter. That person is Taylor Swift.
Here is exactly what he says when I ask him which of his books is his favorite:
Number one favorite book is I’m Gay for My Living Billionaire Jet Plane because it reminds me of good times with my son in las vegas. we played games and his friends called me rain guy. look up to my son so much, such a cool guy you should see the way he kisses girls left and right. acts like its no big deal. i want to be like him but i know im just a guy with some fries watching the fun train and thats okay.
Tingle says that he started writing stories as a home-schooled child in Utah and that the author he most admires is Stephen King, in part because “his son probably loves him and never gets mad.” He is hoping that I’m Gay for My Living Billionaire Jet Plane is made into a movie starring Channing Tatum, with Taylor Swift providing original songs.
Though Tingle is disparaging of Fifty Shades of Grey (“dinosaurs like to kiss not fight, only good times where nobody cries”) and he claims that it makes him “feel weird to look up sex words.” I asked him to read my original dino erotica, and to tell me what he made of it.
Here’s my first try. Brace yourself.
It was with some trepidation that I approached the stegosaurus’ cock. I had bedded dinosaurs in the past, sure, but this was different. They had all been comparatively small, slender beasts – a few velociraptors, a pterodactyl back at uni, and an archaeceratops after I’d broken up with Gareth. I was a good-looking guy and these prehistoric monsters were drawn to that – species divide or no species divide. Now I was staring at the biggest dinosaur schlong I had ever seen, two feet long, six inches away from my face. Could I handle it? There was only one way to find out. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth.
And now for Chuck Tingle’s comments:
first things first, stegosauruses can be angry customers so you gotta approach with caution or they might be mean to you, exchange a few words that make you feel like punching or like crying maybe. if youre on their good side your in luck though because they can be bad boy types with a hot kind of way, maybe like channing tatum on a motorcycle. not sure about the other dinosaurs but all and all it sounds like this guy is a real stud and probably kisses a lot know what i mean? definately a good part of the book though made me feel weird like i wanted to find out what happened next. has a nice flow like were talkin’ buddy to buddy, just two cool guys without a care in the world. maybe like, hey this dinosaur make me feel weird in a good way, wanna shoot the breeze about it? conversation good times like when me and my son went to las vegas.
Here was my next attempt:
The diplodocus was wet, and I was panting with desire. Through her satin thong I could feel how much she wanted me.
“Fill me, Clive,” she whispered as I caressed her scaly back with my gloved hand. As she became increasingly aroused, her huge tail swung from side to side, knocking over the fridge and smashing several of the champagne flutes that had been drying next to the sink.
“Don’t worry about those,” I muttered into her ear, licking it slowly.
“Take me,” she said.
I looked into her eyes. We both knew this affair would soon come to an end. Perhaps that was why our bodies coursed with a lust powerful enough to dent a car. We needed one last gulp of the love cup.
In one smooth movement, I slammed my dick inside her.
What did Chuck Tingle make of it?
not sure what part of this diplo guy is getting wet but he sounds like a sharp dresser with a thong on, probably works out a lot and poses in hunk shows. anyway, too bad about the kitchen but sometimes thats how parties get when angry customer dinos show up. i dont really know on my own because my son dosnt have a lot of parties but when he does a normally stay in my room. hope the fridge is okay. last part about slamming the dick was pretty hard to read but it was also nice, like maybe something i might think about to relax after a long day? has some good passion words like slammed but also hard to read. slammed is how you know somebody means business. first theyre kissin and then you know the rest buddy, not gonna trick me into saying it. maybe better words when they talk togaether like about other thinks than just touching? like hey this makes me think of my own personal stuff, which is sexy instead of just ‘i want you.’ i want you too’ thats fun stuff but sometimes you gotta ask how a day was.
And, my final attempt:
There were more dinosaurs at this orgy than I had anticipated. With merely a cursory glance over the room I could count sixteen, and I knew there were dozens more behind me. Some were wearing underwear; there was a triceratops holding a glass of white wine, whose corset was attracting a great many flattering remarks; a rhabdodon in a gimp mask reclined in a chaise longue. Most, however, were butt-naked – the way I liked them.
I was wearing only a top hat. I was standing too close to the door – a breeze kept whistling its way up my arse whenever someone left or came into the room. Having decided that this was too irritating to endure, I sauntered over to a T-Rex with a chiselled jaw, who was speaking quietly to a busty brontosaurus in a G-string. With no more than a wink and a glance in the direction of one of the bedrooms, I was leading the T-Rex by the hand into a room of our own.
I got his attention by dropping my top hat and catching it with my throbbing boner.
“Intriguing,” he said, his eyes lighting up. I waggled my erection and the top hat wobbled around.
“I’ve never fucked a T-Rex before,” I said, lying through my teeth. He waddled over to me and lay his tiny hands on my lips. My own hands reached down and began stroking his substantial cock.
“My oh my,” I whispered, watching his eyes flutter as pleasure began to invade his body.
This was going to be a fun night.
We pass over to Chuck Tingle:
sounds like a good party with james bonds types, guys hangin out just catchin the breeze drinking wine. mostly i like choclate milk but these guys sound like wine guys in a good way. like the part about the top hat and made me want to go get one at kmart down the street, no wonder the t-Rex gave him the best friend treatment. very rich dinos wear top hats and besides that its a good look. maybe one thing to change is the t-Rex waddle, thats not a very sexy way to move so maybe he could have a confident strut like if you were at a party and channing tatum was there and he wanted to kiss you. maybe like that.
style has a nice balance, and it ends on a good summary when you say ‘this was gonna be a fun night.’ probably makes the reader think ‘you betcha bub.’ i have a good that says ‘guess im fucking these dinosaurs tonight.’ people like a summary at the end makes em know that they did a good job getting that far like a nice pat on the back.
thanks for sending your stories. youre writing is very good and from the heart like a real deal hollywood writer. maybe publish these in the jezebel paper and get a lot of number one fans. i know i would. imagination is real, and you are my Best Friend (one of them, thanks). thank you.
I think it safe to say that Tingle’s comments taught neither myself nor anyone else anything about how to write erotic prose. But I didn’t expect them to. That’s not who the man is.
And, if he handed out all of his secrets for free, people wouldn’t need to pay $2.98 to read books like My Ass Is Haunted by the Gay Unicorn Colonel. The author will remain an absolute mystery; he is an enigma wrapped up in a tingler. His actual prose, though peppered with grammatical errors, is clearly that of a competent writer. His communication outside of his eBooks, by contrast, are like the ramblings of a madman. His success comes from convincing the world he’s an idiot—the greatest trick Chuck Tingle ever pulled.
Image by Jim Cooke, source photos via Shutterstock.
Ralph Jones is a journalist and comedy writer from the UK. He has written for Vice, the Guardian, Esquire, and many other titles. He is in a sketch group called The Awkward Silence.