BISEXUALLY SANDWICHED BY MY SENTIENT PEANUT BUTTER HUSBAND AND OUR NEW LIVING JELLY GIRLFRIEND

By Chuck Tingle

Relationships come in all shapes and sizes, and that’s a wonderful thing. As long as everyone’s happy and healthy, there’s really no combination of folks that have it wrong when it comes to who, or how, to love.

My husband and I are what you might call monogamish, not entirely open to bringing someone else into our bedroom, but also not entirely closed off to the possibility. I’m sure many couples might be worried about the tension a lifestyle like ours could create, but in truth it does the opposite. The ability to openly discuss something as meaningful and important as normal sexual attraction with a loving partner has only made our relationship stronger, letting off that tension like steam instead of piling onto it.

We’re a very happy couple, with no signs of slowing down.

It seems like the only time things get awkward in our relationship is when my husband and I are out to eat, which is a fairly common occurrence. We love to try out new places around town, reveling in the exciting flavors that dance their way across our palettes. Just getting out of the house for a date night is often worth the trip, but the problems occur when it’s time to make our order.

Rimble, my husband, has a very particular diet, thanks to the fact that he is not a fellow human being, but sentient, living peanut butter. Suffice to say, he is very strict about any nuts in his food, regardless of the fact that anything we eat was clearly not sentient to begin with. We’re vegetarians anyway.

“Whoa, very nice,” my husband gushes as we walk through the door of this swanky new restaurant. He’s looking this way and that, in a state of complete wonder as we take in the luxurious modern trappings.

For a meal this pricey, they better be nice.

“Hello there,” the host greets us. “Do you have a reservation this evening?”

“Yes,” I reply, stepping forward and smiling wide. “It should be under Tempo Peenie.”

The host scans down a long list of names, then nods when he finally arrives at mine. “Ah yes, Mr. Peenie for two. Right this way!”

Soon enough, my husband and I are being lead deep into the restaurant, passing tables full of other hungry patrons and their sizzling, delicious food. It’s hard not to let our eyes linger across their orders, taking it all in and weighing the options for when it comes time to make an order ourselves.

The host seats us and then heads back to his post, leaving my husband and I to marvel at all the wonderful sights and sounds of this high end establishment.

Rimble takes a menu and begins to peruse his options, excited at first and then gradually struck with an unexpected expression of aching dread.

“What is it?” I question, reaching out my hand and placing it over his peanut butter palm.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Rimble offers, struggling to just keep it together and enjoy the meal. I can tell he’s having trouble, however.

“Come on, baby,” I prod. “What’s up.”
Finally, I take a look at the menu myself, scanning down the page and taking in each of the restaurant’s delicious offerings. There’s a wide variety to choose from, and any other diner would likely have trouble connecting a thread between these various food items. I know exactly what to look for, however, and soon enough I’m frowning too.

“Oh shit,” I blurt. “There’s literally nuts in everything.”
My sentient peanut butter husband nods, a disappointed expression on his face.

Obviously, working around Rimble’s dietary restrictions is something we’re used to, but this marks the first time it appears not a single option is available. We’d heard so many good things about this place that we hadn’t even bothered to check out the menu beforehand, as that’s never really been a problem, but now it appears this has come back to bite us. Our night out might officially be ruined.

“Oh my god, does everything have nuts in it?” I question.

The sentence alone sends a visible chill down Rimble’s peanut butter spine. He’s usually very calm and collected in this kind of situation, but in tonight’s particular case it’s a little much.

“Looks like it,” Rimble offers in return. “It’s okay, baby. I don’t have to eat.”

I scoff at this suggestion. “We’ll go somewhere else if we have to.”
“No, no, no,” my husband protests.

My eyes are still locked on the menu, going though each dish and its subsequent listing of ingredients. Nuts everywhere.

Suddenly, a figure appears at the side of the table. “Welcome to Raptor’s Claw, can I get any drinks started for you?” comes a sweet, feminine voice.

I turn towards the woman, ready to unload with an angry diatribe about the lack of nut free options, when suddenly I stop in my tracks. Standing before us is an absolutely gorgeous sentient jelly, strawberry from the looks of it. She smiles warmly and her expression immediately disarms both my husband and I.

“Maybe,” I stammer, slightly taken off guard.

I focus my mind, trying my best to stay on course while removing all the unnecessary aggression. It’s not very helpful in this situation, after all.

“We were looking at the menu and… uh… is there anything here without nuts in it?” I finally question. I hand my menu over to the beautiful jelly, who looks it over carefully. She begins to shake her head as she goes, clearly a little disappointed on our behalves.

“This is crazy,” she finally overs sympathetically. “I’ve told the kitchen they need to come up with a few options for people with nut allergies.” The jelly glances over at my husband. “Or, you know, just don’t want to eat nuts.”

“It’s gross,” Rimble blurts.

Our server laughs. “Yeah, tell me about it. There’s strawberries in one of the summer salads and I can’t even carry it over to the table without feeling like I’m gonna gag. I can’t imagine how hard it is to cut out peanuts. Peanuts are everywhere.”

“Not just peanuts, all nuts,” Rimble offers. “I can see you’re strawberry, but don’t you get freaked out when you spot someone chowing down on a blackberry pie?”

As I lean back in my chair, watching this conversation unfold, I notice a distinct sparkle in my husband’s eye. He’s clearly very attracted to this sentient jelly, and it seems like the feeling is mutual. Both of them are hitting it off in a way that’s exceedingly rare.

“Can I be honest,” our server says, leaning in a bit. “I love cherry pie.”

“No!” Rimble blurts in disbelief. “You’re a berry, though!”

“Cherry is not a berry!” the sentient jelly replies with a laugh. “I know it kinda seems like it should be, but it’s not. It’s just a fruit.”

“That’s bad,” Rimble replies in mock disgust.

“You can’t tell me you’ve never had a candy bar with peanuts in it,” our server teases. “Come on. In your whole life you’ve never snuck a bite?”

My husband takes a deep breath, preparing himself. I know exactly the story he’s about to share, but I’m astonished by the fact it’s actually an option for him in such a public setting. If this is the tale I think it is, then only our closest friends know, and it only ever comes out after a long night of drinking.

The handsome living peanut butter lowers his voice to a hushed, private whisper. “When I was a kid, I once… I ate a whole Snickers bar,” he finally admits.

“Oh my god!” our server gasps, then starts laughing wildly. It takes her a moment to calm down.

“I know, I know,” Rimble continues, playing it off.

“Anyway, I can check with the kitchen and see if they can whip something up for you guys off the menu that doesn’t have any nuts, but the whole kitchen is covered in them. I mean, you’ll probably get a dusting no matter what you do.”

My husband lets out a long sigh, thinking it over.

“Do you want to go?” I question.

Our server nods along at my suggestion. “There’s plenty of great places to eat around here, I can help you find something good.”

“It’s alright,” Rimble finally decides, then turns to me. “Let’s just have a drink while we’re here, then see how we’re feeling after that.”

“Sounds good, what are we having?” questions our server.

“Two chocolate milks please,” I tell her with a nod.

The jelly leaves and me and my husband immediately lock eyes.

“She was really cute,” I say, “and crazy helpful.”

“Super sweet,” Rimble agrees.

We sit in silence, thinking it over for a moment as we marinate on what just happened. I can tell that both of our minds are racing with a variety of different thoughts and feelings.

“Did you pick up on a… vibe there?” my husband questions.

I shrug. “Honestly, it’s hard to tell. She was probably just doing her job. Servers are supposed to be friendly.”

“You’re right,” Rimble confirms begrudgingly.

I take a deep breath and let it out, trying to analyze the situation as objectively as I can. “It’s not cool to hit on someone at work and put them in an awkward position,” I finally continue. “But… if she makes a move then, obviously, we could take her up on it. She has to make the move though.”

Rimble agrees.

When our milks eventually arrive my husband and I fall into a nice conversation about our plans for the week and how great the movie we watched last night was. Eventually, the idea of some flirtatious moment with our server disappears into the ether, completely forgotten.

“Could we get the check?” I eventually ask our strawberry jelly server as she passes by.

The beautiful sentient food smiles and nods, and wastes no time returning with our bill.

“Thanks for coming in guys. Sorry we didn’t have any meal options for you,” she offers.

“It’s fine,” I reply with a polite grin. “No worries.”

The server turns and begins to walk away, then suddenly stops herself. Gradually, she rotates back to face me. “I’m sorry,” the server starts confidently. “This is probably a long shot, and obviously you guys are having a nice night together so… I don’t even know why I’m saying this, but… What are you doing later?”

It suddenly strikes me just how mutual the attraction between us really was, and a wave of excitement washes over me. My husband and I exchange glances, completely blown away by the conviction of our new friend. How could she have known that the two of us were not only bisexual, but happily monogamish?

It’s like something out of some fantastical erotic novel, yet here we are in real life; a man, his peanut butter husband, and a beautiful jelly woman.

“We were talking about heading out to look for another restaurant, but then we decided it might be best to head back to our place and make food at home,” I explain.

“Would you like to come?” my peanut butter husband asks.

The jelly server nods, biting her lip seductively.

“We don’t even know your name,” I remind her. “I’m Tempo and this is my husband Rimble.”

“I’m Ponda,” replies the gorgeous strawberry jelly. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

We pay our bill and then stand to leave the restaurant, our new strawberry jelly friend joining us as we head for the door.

Between this unexpected triad, the tension is already building in a powerful, unspoken way.

By the time we arrive back at the apartment, it feels as though the whole world is going to snap apart under the erotic weight of our unspoken desires. It feels like everything said between us exists on two separate layers of reality, a constant sexual time bomb just continuing to tick down forever and ever just behind the curtain.

“This is a really nice place, guys,” our new strawberry jelly friend says, glancing around our living room as we make our way inside.

The floor plan is quite open, leaving the kitchen close as I stroll over in that direction. “Thank you! Any idea what you want for dinner?”

I open up our fridge and start looking through the various items at my disposal, trying my best to come up with a reasonably tasty meal. Of course, I’m having a terrible time focusing on the task at hand, thinking instead about what kind of hardcore encounter could be lurking just around the corner.

“We don’t have much, but I think I could get some ravioli going,” I offer.

“What about bread?” the beautiful jelly coos. “I was hoping we could make a sandwich.”

I close the door to the fridge and glance over at Ponda, struggling to determine if she intends for this to sound the way that it does. The second our eyes meet, however, I realize it’s on.

Without a word, I make my way back into the living room, meeting my peanut butter and jelly in the middle and then embracing them both simultaneously. The three of us begin to passionately make out with one another, the tension finally breaking in one glorious moment of sensual release. The way their sticky, sweet hands caress my body feels absolutely incredible, a perfect combination.

Soon enough, the living spreads are pulling away my clothing and tossing it to the side, undressing my body and exposing me to the cool evening air. When I’m completely naked, I drop down to my knees before my two lovers.

First, I turn towards my peanut butter husband, opening wide and taking his enormous, erect cock between my lips. The taste is incredible as I get to work pumping my face up and down his rod, savoring every second of this oral encounter. I start slowly and then build speed until I’m hammering myself down onto his dick with belligerent enthusiasm. Eventually, I pop the cock out of my mouth and then drag my tongue across his rod from the base to the tip.

At this point I open wide to consume Rimble’s shaft yet again, only this time I don’t just bob my head up and down. Instead, I push his peanut butter goodness deeper and deeper into my gullet, swallowing him all the way down until my face is pressed up hard against his perfectly chiseled abs. Rimble places his hands against the back of my head and holds me there for a long while, enjoying his position of dominance until I finally can’t take it any more and pull back with a sputtering gasp.

Immediately, I turn my attention over to Ponda, diving in and delicately swirling my tongue in circles around her strawberry jelly clit. Her taste is just as incredible as my husband’s, and as the two flavors melt together within my mouth I find myself absolutely overwhelmed by the beautiful combination. It’s utterly intoxicating, driving me to push even deeper. Eventually, the movements of my tongue evolve until I’m excitedly lapping away at Ponda’s pussy, the beautiful jelly rocking her hips against me while she continues to passionately kiss my husband.

Eventually, Rimble moves away, allowing me to focus on Ponda completely. The sentient jelly begins to step back, forcing me to crawl along after her on my hands and knees. She beckons me playfully onward, continuing to move away until she reaches the living room couch and then collapses into it.

The strawberry jelly spreads her legs and allows me passage as I continue to eat her out, taking my time to focus one what makes her move along with the subtle motions of my mouth. Meanwhile, I can sense my husband taking his position behind me.

I glance back over my shoulder and smile wide, giving my ass cheek a playful slap and then spreading myself open for the man of my dreams.

“Come on, baby,” I coo playfully. “Fuck me while I lick our new friend!”

My handsome peanut butter husband aligns himself with my butthole then acts as though he’s thrusting forward, but stops before entering. I can feel him testing the limits of my anal seal with his cock, yet refusing to push through, teasing me.

“Please,” I beg. “Just fuck me. I need that cock in my ass.”

“You sure?” my husband asks, toying with me.

“Yes,” I groan. “I need you to make me into your peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

With that, Rimble thrusts forward, impaling me across his girthy sentient food cock as a startled gasp escapes my lips. His size is incredible, and although I’m used to it from our many erotic romps together, it’s still not exactly easy to take on the first push. Thankfully, my husband knows this, and he takes his time with me, allowing his cock to rest deep within my body, completely unmoving while I adjust to his size.

Gradually, Rimble begins to pump in and out of my rump, causing the ache within my loins to dissipate and quickly become replaced by a potent erotic warmth. Soon enough, the two of us fall into a pleasant rhythm and I can turn my attention back to Ponda, gracefully running my tongue around her clit in flickering circles.

It’s not long before all three of us find a nice groove together, passing the carnal pleasure back and forth through our bodies in a long line. I watch as the living jelly lover before me starts to tremble and quake, pushing closer and closer to her first orgasm of the evening.

I slip two fingers within her, filling her up while I continue to work with my tongue and edge her towards climax. Suddenly, Ponda is placing her hands against the back of my skull, holding me against her pussy while she throws her head back and lets out a frantic scream. Her entire body quakes wildly, the muscles expanding and contracting in unison while the waves of orgasm ripple across her frame.

By now, my husband’s pounds up my ass have transformed into a manic anal hammering, giving it to me with everything he’s got. I use this enthusiasm while I eat out Ponda, not letting up for a second until she’s finally finished, collapsing back against the couch in a state of fucked silly euphoria.

“That was amazing,” the gorgeous strawberry jelly moans. “I need more.”

“More huh?” I reply with a laugh.

“I need you to fuck me,” she demands.

With that, Ponda slides down off the couch and slips herself under me, gazing up with lustful eyes as she kisses me deeply on the lips with a sweet, flavorful kiss.

I reach down and position my cock, then push forward with a single deep thrust, entering her.

“Fuck yes,” Ponda sighs, pulling me tight against her body.

At this point, my peanut butter husband lets up with his anal pounds, falling back a bit and then finding a steady, slow rhythm. Me, my peanut butter, and the jelly all start moving together in unison, falling into sync as we rock steadily in time. The sensation of being stuck in the middle of these two beautiful lovers is incredible, and the dual sources of stimulation quickly start to blend together within me, creating a potent cocktail.

“Oh my god, oh my god” I start to whisper over and over again, the words falling out of my mouth in a steady rhythm. Louder and louder the sounds grow until, eventually, I’m calling out at the top of my lungs, completely lost in the moment.

Soon enough, my voice is joined by the others, all three of us creating a wild chorus of ecstasy. Our cries echo out through the apartment and come back to us, filling the air with a beautiful cacophony.

Suddenly, one voice cuts through the noise, our new strawberry jelly lover calling out as her eyes roll back into her head. “I’m gonna cum again! Don’t stop fucking me just like that.”

I do as I’m told, keeping the pace as steady as I possibly can. As I watch, Ponda reaches down and begins to frantically rub her clit, giving herself just enough of a push to erupt with her second orgasm of the evening. The beautiful sentient food grabs onto me tightly, completely lost for what seems like forever until, at long last, she falls back in exhaustion.

“Now it’s your turn,” Ponda coos seductively. “Give me your loads!”

I pull out of the beautiful strawberry jelly lover and she falls back against the couch, displaying her plentiful red breasts for Rimble and me. Soon enough, the two of us are standing on either side of Ponda, furiously beating ourselves off while she cradles our balls.

“Cum for me,” Ponda commands. “Blast those hot loads all over my tits.”

My husband erupts first, ejecting a hot load of sweet peanut butter across the strawberry jelly’s beautiful body. It paints her breasts in a glorious pattern of spunk, which Ponda then scoops up into her fingers.

The living jelly then takes this peanut butter load and reaches over, wrapping her fingers tight around my cock and using my husband’s jizz as lube. She immediately takes over for me, pumping her fist across my length as fast as she can until, suddenly, I’m struck with a powerful wave of pleasure as the climax erupts. I let out a frantic cry as my cum blasts hard onto the strawberry jelly’s chest, mixing with my husband’s who came before it. The sensation is so incredible that I nearly buckle at the knees, mustering all of the discipline I can before somehow managing to stay upright.

When I finally finish I stagger backwards, struggling to collect myself. My breathing heavy, I finally collapse into a nearby chair in a state of satisfied delirium.

“That was amazing,” I sigh.

“I second that,” Rimble agrees.

“I third it,” Ponda adds with a laugh.

Soon enough, all three of us are laughing, smiling wide as we bask in the afterglow of such a wonderful encounter.

We lay around for a while until finally our new strawberry jelly lover breaks the silence.

“Welp, I guess I should probably get going,” she offers, standing up.

“You know… you don’t have to go,” I inform her.

The sentient spread stops in her tracks, turning around to face us. “Really?”

My husband and I exchange glances, then nod at one another in complete approval.

“Not unless you want to,” Rimble offers.

A grin slowly begins to creep its way across the living jelly’s face. “That’s very sweet of you. I just wasn’t sure what this was, you know? It’s one thing to have a little threesome fling, but usually that’s all it is. I don’t want to just insert myself into a relationship where I’m not wanted.”

“You’re very kind to be worried, and I’m sure me and Rimble will talk about that in detail later. For now, I think we can all agree it would be great if you wanted to stick around tonight.”

Ponda returns, this time strolling over and sitting next to my husband and I.

“It’s all about communication,” my sentient peanut butter husband offers. “That’s how all of this works.”
“It’s a good thing we’re all as good at talking as we are at fucking,” our strawberry jelly lover offers. “So what’s next?”

“Next, we eat,” I blurt, standing up and strolling over to the kitchen again.

I open up the fridge and begin pulling out supplies, then put on a pot of water for the pasta.

“No berries in that ravioli, right?” Ponda jokes sarcastically.

I shake my head. “Nope, I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.”

I turn around and pull open the freezer, finding myself suddenly face to face with a frozen strawberry cheesecake. My heart skips a beat when I see this, and for a moment I’m faced with a very important question: Do we skip dessert just for tonight? Or is this the beginning of something much more meaningful?

I reach inside the freezer, pulling out the strawberry cheesecake and walking it over to the trashcan. I drop the whole thing in without a second thought.

Some say that love is the soul of books, and what better way to show a little love then with a free gift?  Here to tingle you to the core is a bonus story for your reading pleasure:

NOT POUNDED IN THE BUTT BY ANYTHING AND THAT’S OKAY

I roll out of a mess of blankets and pillows, clearing my mind as I shake away the sleep and let the warm morning sunlight soak in though my skin. It’s a new day.

Next, I take a shower and get dressed, then pour myself a bowl of cereal with chocolate milk; all part of the usual routine. Today feels like just another day in a series of many, but little do I know how important this particular day is about to become.

I check my watch as I head out the door for work, thankful I’ve carved out enough time to prepare for my big presentation today. Everyone in the office is on pins and needles, but I feel like I’ve got everything under control.

The first sign that something’s not right is when I step from the elevator of my apartment building’s massive, hollow car garage, noticing immediately that damn near all the vehicles are missing. Only a handful of cars remain, meaning one of two things: I’m either very late, or everyone else has decided to leave very early.

I check my watch again, just to make sure, then smile confidently. Seven in the morning.

Heading towards my car I suddenly stop, panic shooting through my veins in an icy bolt. I frantically pull the phone from my pocket and check the time, gasping aloud when I see that it’s actually eight, not seven, and the device has updated itself automatically.

I forget about the change in daylight savings time.

“Oh fuck,” I blurt, suddenly breaking into a sprint as throw open my car door and climb inside.

I peel out from my spot and blast from the garage, weaving my way through the city streets as I struggle to make up lost minutes. While I still might make it to the office in time for my presentation, it’s not a guarantee, and I certainly can’t prepare in the way I was expecting to.

My heart slamming hard in my chest, I focus intently on the road ahead, my concentration only broken when a brilliant flash of red and blue lights appears in my rearview mirror.

“No!” I cry, immediately realizing what’s happening.

I pull my car over to the side of the road and take a deep breath, struggling to think of any way I can get out of this quickly and easily.

A large, muscular unicorn police officer appears at the driver’s side window next to me, prompting me to roll it down as I gaze up at him. The creature is shirtless, showing off his perfectly sculpted chest and abs.

“Unicorn Butt Cops: Highway Patrol,” the objectively handsome unicorn says in a deep, gruff voice. “Do you know how fast you were going back there?”

I hesitate, not quite sure how to respond. “I might have been going a little bit over the speed limit,” I finally admit.

The unicorn chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he gazes at me knowingly from behind enormous, mirrored glasses. “You we’re going twenty five over. That’s pretty fast.”
I let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry,” I finally say.

The Unicorn Butt Cop nods. “License and registration,” he continues.

I hand the officer both, but before he walks away I call out to stop him. “Please!” I shout, prompting the muscular creature to turn around and stroll back to me. “Is there anything I can do to speed this process up? Anything at all?”

The unicorn gazes over the rim of his glasses, a single bead of sweat forming on his brow in the brilliant morning sun.

“There is… one thing,” the muscular Unicorn Butt Cop replies.

I swallow hard. “Yeah?”

The creature hesitates for a moment. “You can promise to never do it again,” he finally says.

“Sounds great!” I reply, thankful to be let off so easy this time.

The Unicorn Butt Cop tears up a blank citation in his hand, then raps twice on the side of my car with his knuckles as he walks away. “Don’t do that again, okay? It’s dangerous.”

“I won’t! I promise!” I call out as I start my car and pull onto the city street once more, this time at a respectable speed.

While my presentation is incredibly important, it’s certainly not worth getting into an accident over. And besides, even if I do manage to make it where I’m going safely, a promise is a promise. I told this Unicorn Butt Cop I’d follow the speed limit, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.

Surprisingly, thanks to the fact that most people are already where they need to be and the morning traffic is relatively clear, I arrive at my office building only fifteen minutes later than expected.

I hop out of my ride and grab my briefcase, running over to the elevator and somehow making it inside before the sliding doors close. I press the button for the twenty-third floor and then count down the seconds as my lift cruises upward. It feels so much slower than usual.

The second the doors slide open I’m rushing out into the lobby, heading straight for the conference room where I’m certain everyone else is already waiting.

Seconds later, I’m bursting through the doors to see that I’m absolutely correct, an entire tableful of coworkers immediately turning to look at me. My boss, Mr. Blonto, is at the head of the long conference room table.

Mr. Blonto, a well-dressed bigfoot with dark brown fur and striking blue eyes, furrows his brow when he sees me. “Ken, we weren’t sure if you were planning on showing up for your presentation or not.”

“I’m so sorry,” I apologize, walking to the front of the room as opening up my briefcase. I pull out my notes and make sure everything is where it should be. “I forgot to change my clock.”

Mr. Blonto settles back into his chair, clearly a little bothered but not letting it ruin his day. “Fine, fine,” the muscular bigfoot tells me, waving his hand in the air as if to push away any lingering thoughts on the matter. “You’re here now, what have you got for us?”

I nod, walking over to my projector and flipping it on. “Tingleland,” I say aloud as a massive aerial map of the fantastical amusement park appears on the screen behind me. “An enormous theme park for adults, based on the complete works of Dr. Chuck Tingle.”

Mr. Blonto’s expression doesn’t seem to change at all, which gives me great concern, but I push ahead anyway.

“The themepark is going to feature several rides, all of them based on various notable works from Dr. Chuck Tingle. We’re going to have rollercoasters, dark rides, virtual reality simulations; the works. More importantly, we’re going to have restaurants and, of course, plenty of merchandise.”

Mr. Blonto can’t help but smile as the sweet mention of merchandising rolls across his ears. It’s a reaction that couldn’t come soon enough, and the second that I see his stoic façade break I can feel all of my trepidation slip away.

“We’re going to have four themed lands within the park,” I explain, walking over to the projection and pointing to each of the four segments. “Each one is themed after a different kind of Tingler. We’ve got Unicornland, Living Objectland, Dinosuarland, and of course, Bigfootland.”

My boss is nodding along now, and thusly, his table full of kiss asses are following suit, acting incredibly excited about this idea as it unfolds before them. To be honest, I don’t care if their reaction is genuine or not, I’m just glad to have them along for the ride.

“Do you have any questions so far?” I ask Mr. Blonto.

My boss considers this for a moment, letting everything I’ve just hit him with sink in as he rolls it around in his head.

“You said this is a theme park for adults, right?” Mr. Blonto questions.

I nod.

“Chuck Tingle’s books are great, I think we can all agree with that, but they’re also packed with graphic sex. You can’t just have a themepark full of rampant sexual imagery, even if it is for adults only.”
“Not every Chuck Tingle book has sex in it,” I explain.

Mr. Blonto scoffs. “Somehow I doubt that,” the well-dressed bigfoot retorts.

“It’s true,” I insist. “This one isn’t.”

My boss mulls over these comments a little longer and then, suddenly, makes an announcement to the room. “Alright everyone, get out. Me and Ken need to chat privately for a moment.”

My coworkers stand up from their seats and take off without a word, getting back to work like good little drones while Mr. Blonto and I wait silently. Soon enough, the whole room is completely empty other than the two of us.

“May I speak openly?” my boss suddenly questions, a strange request from such an otherwise forward Sasquatch.

“Of course,” I tell him, turning off the projector.

Mr. Blonto climbs to his feet and begins to walk slowly towards me, loosening up his tie as he goes and then pulling it off completely.

“I have some concerns about the sexual element of this park,” he informs me in a deep, confident tone. “I think I might need a few examples of how it’s going to work.”

“I have a few examples right here,” I explain to Mr. Blonto, the hulking bigfoot now standing directly before me.

“I’m gonna need more than that,” he retorts, hesitating for a moment. “I’m gonna need… a lot more.”

“Anything,” I tell him.

Mr. Blonto nods. “I’m gonna need ten ride designs on my desk tomorrow morning. Bright and early”

My boss reaches out his hand and gives me a firm shake. “Great presentation. Why don’t you head home and get started on those. I know you’re much more creative out of the office.”
“Thank you!” I reply. “That’s very understanding!”

“No problem,” retorts Mr. Blonto, turning and heading for the door. “Looking forward to it!” he calls back over his shoulder.

I collect my things, carefully packing up my briefcase as the excitement overwhelms me. I’d known this idea was a hard sell, but as a lifelong buckaroo I just had to give it a shot. Thankfully, it seems like the rest of my coworkers are, at least, receptive to the concept. Now I just need to blow them away with an incredible collection of ride plans.

I head back to the elevator and make my way down towards the garage once more, my mind already flooded with a myriad of different concepts for Chuck Tingle based rides.

Mr. Blonto was right, I really am much more creative when I work from home. I’m even more creative, however, when I work from the library.

With this in mind, I change course and head directly to the nearest library branch I can find.

I pull my car up out front and then head inside, immediately overwhelmed by a powerful sense of relaxation and tranquility as my vision is filled with stacks and stacks of beautiful old books.

In the day of the internet, this place may not be as popular as it once was, but it’s just as beautiful as ever.

I stroll over to a nearby table and consider claiming my spot, but at the last second I alter course and decide to go check out any texts there might be regarding theme park history an construction. Maybe there’s something laying around here that can get my creative juices flowing.

I know this particular library pretty well, and instinctively head over to the appropriate second. I slowly make my way through the aisles, my eyes wandering over binding after binding as I stroll. There’s so much here to get excited about that it’s almost overwhelming, and this proves to be the case when I suddenly find myself running directly into another person while they make their way down the aisle across to me.

“I’m so sorry,” I blurt, watching as a stack of books that was once held in this person’s arms goes clattering to the ground.

I bend down and immediately start gathering the texts, then stand up to find that I’m face to face with a light green raptor in thick-rimmed glasses. The two of us smile immediately as our eyes meet, a powerful sense of friendship and appreciation passing back and forth between us.

“It’s okay,” the dinosaur tells me. “My fault.”

I laugh. “No way, that was totally my fault. I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” the raptor continues to assure me.

I notice now that this prehistoric creature is shirtless, but he wears an official library nametag attached to the waistband of his pants.

“Oh, you work here,” I stammer.

The dinosaur nods. “I’m Trip, the handsome Jurassic librarian.”

“It’s nice to meet you Trip! I’m Ken,” I inform him. “I was actually looking for some books on the history of famous amusement parks.”

The raptor smiles. “Well, I’m glad I can help you then. We’ve been doing some rearranging. The history section is over there now,” he explains, pointing a long, clawed finger across the library.

“Thank you so much,” I gush.

The dinosaur casually leans against a nearby bookshelf now, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he coos.

I consider his words for a moment. There’s something very cool about this raptor that I can’t quite put my finger on, a confident demeanor that makes me want to spend more time with him.

“What are you doing after work?” I finally question. “I’ve got a lot to do before my big meeting tomorrow, but if I get it finished then maybe we could hang out and talk about libraries.”

“Are you sure?” Trip questions. “I don’t wanna interrupt your work.”

“Oh yeah,” I assure him. “Some people think it’s best to work and work and work before a big meeting like this, but what they don’t realize is how important it is to relax, as well. You’ve gotta take care of your business, of course, but you can’t over do it.”

Trip grins with his perfect rows of sharp dinosaur teeth. “I think I can help you relax,” he says. “I’ll see you tonight.”

I’ve just finished plating dinner when the doorbell rings, and I walk over with both excitement and apprehension. I can already tell that Trip is a very, very hip dinosaur, and I hope that he thinks I’m just as hip in return.

I open the door. “Hey! Come in!” I offer my new friend.

The muscular raptor strolls inside, still shirtless. He glances around my apartment and nods in appreciation of my interior decorating skills. “This is a great place,” Trip tells me.

“Thank you,” I reply.

I can tell now that there’s a powerful tension blossoming between us, a potent ache that I can’t quite put my finger on but simmers with intensity in the pit of my stomach. It builds and builds as the two of us stand here in silence, just staring at one another until, eventually; I realize exactly what this feeling is.

“I’m so fucking hungry,” I suddenly blurt. “I’m sorry, I should’ve had a bigger lunch. I know you just got here but can we have dinner now?”

“Yes,” the muscular raptor gushes. “Of course.”

Suddenly, we’re rushing over to the dinner table, taking our seats and immediately chowing down on the food before us. I open wide and take a huge spoonful of mashed potatoes into my mouth, savoring the sweet, buttery flavor while I gaze across the table at my new friend. Trip is clearly enjoying himself, too, lost in a moment of utter satisfaction as he tries the green beans.

“Fuck. This is so fucking good,” the dinosaur groans.

“Thank you,” I moan in reply. “I’m proud of how it turned out.”

I shovel more and more of the delicious food into my mouth, alternating between the potatoes and the beans until, finally, I just can’t take it anymore and take both between my lips at the same time. I swallow hungrily, taking the strange mess of flavors down my throat as I close my eyes tight and focus on the sensation. It’s honestly much better than I would’ve thought, and only adds to the confident assertion that I’ve done a pretty good job for an amateur cook.

Now it’s time for the main course, but despite how excited I am, I can’t help but hesitate.

“You seem nervous,” Trip informs me.

I nod. “I am.”

“Why?” he coos.

“I’ve never done this before,” I finally admit.

Trip looks shocked. “Cooked?”

“Not for a guest like this,” I continue. “Mashed potatoes and green beans are easy, but I don’t know how I did on the main dish.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” the muscular, shirtless dinosaur assures me.

I stand up and stroll over to the kitchen, peeking into the oven and then glancing back over my shoulder at the raptor. It certainly looks amazing, but who knows how this roast actually tastes.

Slowly, I open the over farther and farther until it’s gaping wide for Trip to see, the sizzling main course looking absolutely mouthwatering as it waits for me and the raptor to make our move.

“You like what you see?” I call back to the dinosaur, his eyes transfixed on the delectable treat before him.

“Fuck yeah,” Trip offers in return.

I take a deep breath, then let it out, trying my best to collect myself before taking a final leap into the unknown.

“I have to tell you something,” I say, my voice trembling slightly.

“What is it?” Trip questions, a look of grave concern making its way across his face.

“This isn’t meat, it’s vegetarian,” I finally inform him. “I hope that’s okay.”

I hold my breath, on pins and needles as I wait for the librarian raptor’s reply. His expression stays completely blank for much longer than I’d like, but eventually a grin begins to creep its why across his lips.

“I’ve never had a vegetarian roast,” he says. “Sounds exciting! What’s in it?”

“I’m not sure,” I admit. “I just got it at the store. Pea protein I think?”

The raptor climbs up from his seat and positions himself behind me, leaning over my shoulder as he smells the delicious roast. He takes a big sniff, holding it in for a minute and then letting it out slowly. In and out the dinosaur breathes, quickly falling into a rhythm with me as we analyze this exciting new addition to our meal.             
“Fuck yeah,” the shirtless dinosaur gushes. “That smells like a roast to me. I can’t even tell the difference.”

“Wanna help me get it out?” I ask.

Trip nods and soon enough the two of us are pulling the sizzling faux meat dish out of the oven, setting it on the kitchen counter and admiring the bubbling juices that swim around it in the pan. I reach into a nearby drawer and pull out a large knife, cutting off a thick slab for each of us before we return to our seats at the table.

“I can’t wait for this,” the dinosaur says, his eyes wide and his mouth watering.

Without hesitation we dive in, consuming the main course with a blissed out fervor unlike anything I’ve experienced. Sharing this moment with my new friend is incredible, and the pleasure of the meal is only elevated by his presence.

Now the two of us are moaning and groaning together, losing ourselves in the moment as we chow down on our succulent roasts. Trip plunges his fork into the slab of tender juiciness over and over again, starting slowly at first and then picking up speed as the flavors overwhelm him.

Not wanting to be left behind, I quickly fall into a rhythm behind Trip, eating at his pace as I continue to shovel more food into my body. Faster and faster we go, until eventually I’m worried there will soon be no roast left.

Of course, that’s when I remember I’ve got a whole tray of the sizzling goodness left to be devoured.

“More?” I question.

“Fuck yeah, more,” the shirtless dinosaur grunts enthusiastically.

I take our plates, which are now wiped completely clean, then head back into the kitchen for another helping of this incredible meal. This time, I slice off two even larger hunks of the roast, not slowing down for a second.

I take a spoon and ladle on some of the juices around it, making sure everything is nice and wet, then return to the table and set my handiwork before Trip once more.

“It’s all yours,” I tell him.

I watch in awe as the dinosaur continues to wolf down the delicious roast, putting my worries of a vegetarian menu completely to rest as he slams the food down his through in a state of aching, belligerent passion.

The dinosaur has consumed his entire second slab before I even sit down, which causes me to reel in shock.

Trip notices this and quickly apologizes. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Was that too fast?”

“No,” I assure him, shaking my head with a wry smile plastered across my face. “I like it. Actually, I fucking love it.”
I take the shirtless, muscular creature’s plate and carry it back to the kitchen, loading it up with more and more of the roast before returning to Trip.

Of course, the hungry dinosaur promptly wolfs it down once more.

This process goes one for quite a while, in and out of the kitchen for what seems like forever until it feels like the dinosaur is about to reach his breaking point.

“Oh my god,” Trip groans. “I’m so stuffed, I think I’m gonna blow.”

“Wait!” I cry out. “Just one last thing.”

I run back to the kitchen, but this time I don’t go for the roast, which is nothing but scraps by now. Instead, I head to the freezer and open it up, pulling out a sweet and frozen tub of delicious ice cream. I prepare us two large bowls of the velvety goodness and then carry them over to my friend, setting one down before him and another one in front of myself.

“Think you’ve got room?” I question playfully.

“I’ve got this,” the dinosaur assures me.

The next thing I know we’re both diving into the ice cream with a ravenous hunger, swallowing massive spoonfuls of the milky liquid. I don’t even stop to wipe my chin as the white liquid rolls down my face in long, thick streaks, dangling in the air before dripping off into the bowl once more.

Of course, I’m determined to finished it all, and I immediately get to work scooping up the remainder of the ice cream. I swallow the milky thickness with hunger and passion, utterly beside myself as the sweetness overwhelms me.

“Fuck,” I finally moan, collapsing back into my chair. “That was amazing.”

“You’re telling me,” the raptor chimes in, looking equally satisfied.

We sit like this for a while before Trip stands up and strolls over, rounding the table and taking a seat in the chair next to me instead of across. There’s something about this closeness that I like, as though I can physically sense the way that my new friend is starting to open up to me.

“I was thinking,” the dinosaur begins. “I really like you, and I’d love it if we spent more time together.”

“I like you, too,” I tell him.

Suddenly, the raptor reaches out and touches my arm in a way that I’m not quite prepared for, breaking past the boundaries of a friendship and ending up somewhere else entirely. I pull back slightly, which fills Trip’s expression with grave concern.

“I’m sorry,” the dinosaur offers.

“It’s okay,” I assure him. “I’m just… not interested in anything physical.”

Trip considers this a moment. “That’s okay, we can just be friends.”

I shake my head. “No, no. I don’t mean it like that… we can definitely be more than friends, but I’m never going to be interested in having sex. If you’re okay with that, then so am I. If not, I totally understand.”

“I’m interested,” the muscular raptor says with a smile. “So what does that make us? Buds? Boyfriends?”

I shrug, laughing as I realize what an understanding and caring companion I’ve found. “I don’t know yet, but it’s all on the table. I just can’t wait to figure it out together.”

Also by Chuck Tingle…

Dinosaur Tinglers

My Billionaire Triceratops Craves Gay Ass

Gay T-Rex Law Firm: Executive Boner

Gaygent Brontosaurus: The Butt Is Not Enough

Professor T-Rex Teaches Me Gayness

Lonely Author Pounded By Dinosaur Social Media Followers

President Domald Loch Ness Tromp Pounds America’s Butt

Pharma Bro Pounded In The Butt By T-Rex Comedian Bill Murky And A Clan Of Triceratops Rappers Trying To Get Their Album Back

Dinosaur Magicians Pinn And Tucker Make Their Weiners Disappear In My Butt

Schrodinger’s Butt

Space Raptor Butt Invasion

Space Raptor Butt Redemption

Space Raptor Butt Ascension

Space Raptor Butt Trilogy

Stranger Pounds

Chef Woolly Mammoth Eats My Butt

Domald Tromp Pounded In The Butt By The Handsome Russian T-Rex Who Also Peed On His Butt And Then Blackmailed Him With The Video Of His Butt Getting Peed On

Slammed In The Butt By The Prehistoric Megalodon Shark Amid Accusations Of Jumping Over Him

Butt Butt Land: Ryan Goslins And The City Of Butts

Open Wide For The Handsome Sabertooth Dentist Who Is Also A Ghost

England’s Ass Is Haunted By A Hung Parliament

T-Rex Anal Workout

Game Of Butts: The Pounds Of Winter

The Call If Coming From Inside Your Butt

The Hard Way: Anally Seduced By The Handsome Pterodactyl High Roller

Rudolph The Red-Nosed Butt Raptor

Slammed In The Butt By A Poorly Rendered Computer Generated Blue Genie

Revengers Buttgame: Antguy Gets Small To Go Into Thamos’ Butt And Then Gets Big And Hard

Chuck’s Dinosaur Tinglers: Volume 1

Chuck’s Dinosaur Tinglers: Volume 2

Chuck’s Dinosaur Tinglers: Volume 3

Chuck’s Dinosaur Tinglers: Volume 4

Chuck’s Dinosaur Tinglers: Volume 5

Chuck’s Dinosaur Tinglers: Volume 6

Chuck’s Dinosaur Tinglers: Volume 7

Chuck’s Dinosaur Tinglers: Volume 8

Chuck’s Dinosaur Tinglers: Volume 9

Unicorn Tinglers

Taken By The Gay Unicorn Biker

My Ass Is Haunted By The Gay Unicorn Colonel

Pounded By The Gay Unicorn Football Squad

Unicorn Butt Cops: Beach Patrol

Anally Yours, The Unicorn Sailor

Top Horn: Turned Gay By The Unicorn Pilots

Hunter Dentist Pounded In The Butt By Cecil The Handsome Unicorn

Butt Wars: Rogue Buns

Fake News, Real Boners

Heavy Metal Unicorn Lawyer Sings Into My Butthole Legally

Chuck’s Unicorn Tinglers: Volume 1

Chuck’s Unicorn Tinglers: Volume 2

Chuck’s Unicorn Tinglers: Volume 3

Chuck’s Unicorn Tinglers: Volume 4

Bigfoot Tinglers

Pounded By President Bigfoot

Bigfoot Sommelier Butt Tasting

Seduced By Doctor Bigfoot: Attorney At Large

Bigfoot Pirates Haunt My Balls

The Curse Of Bigfoot Butt Camp

Bigfoot Settler’s Claim My Butthole

Dan Bigfootzerian Parties In My Butthole With His Billionaire Lifestyle

Eight Bigfoot Buckaroos Hate My Butt And Pound It

Pokebutt Go: Pounded By ‘Em All

The Butt Files: The Case Of Bigfoot’s Weiner

Buttnite Buttle Royale

Don’t Vote For Virginia Congressional Hopeful Denber Wiggleman Because He Is Full Of Hate, Not Because Bigfoot Makes Him Hard

Chuck’s Bigfoot Tinglers: Volume 1

Chuck’s Bigfoot Tinglers: Volume 2

Chuck’s Bigfoot Tinglers: Volume 3

Chuck’s Bigfoot Tinglers: Volume 4

Living Object Tinglers

I’m Gay For My Living Billionaire Jet Plane

Trained By The Living Biker Train

Pounded By The Gay Color Changing Dress

Turned Gay By The Living Alpha Diner

Glazed By The Gay Living Donuts

Pounded In The Butt By My Own Butt

Pounded In The Butt By My Book “Pounded In The Butt By My Own Butt”

Pounded In The Butt By My Book “Pounded In The Butt By My Book ‘Pounded In The Butt By My Own Butt’”

Pounded In The Butt By My Book “Pounded In The Butt By My Book ‘Pounded In The Butt By My Book “Pounded In The Butt By My Own Butt”’”

Buttception: A Butt Within A Butt Within A Butt

Vampire Night Bus Pounds My Butt

Shared By The Chocolate Milk Cowboys

Reamed By My Reaction To The Title Of This Book

Angry Man Pounded By The Fear Of His Latent Gayness Over A Dinosaur Transitioning Into A Unicorn

Slammed Up The Butt By My Hot Coffee Boss

The State Of California Stalks My Butthole

Pounded In The Butt By My Leaked Mashly Addison Data

Happy Birthday Frankenstein, Now Pound My Butt

Oppressed In The Butt By My Inclusive Holiday Coffee Cups

Monday Pounds Me In The Butt

Creamed In The Butt By My Handsome Living Corn

Slammed In The Butthole By My Concept Of Linear Time

Pounded By My Handsome Ghost Boats

Pounded By The Pound: Turned Gay By The Socioeconomic Implications Of Britain Leaving The European Union

Slammed By The Substantial Amount Of Press Generated By My Book “Pounded By The Pound: Turned Gay By The Socioeconomic Implications Of Britain Leaving The European Union”

Slammed In The Butt By Domald Tromp’s Attempt To Avoid Accusations Of Plagiarism By Removing All Facts Of Concrete Plans From His Republican National Convention Speech

First Buckaroo Bill Pounded By The Handsome Living White House

Pounded In The Butt By My Hugo Award Loss

Kissed On The Weiner By My Own Weiner

Slammed In The Butt By My Smartphone’s Missing Headphone Jack

Brangelina Splits Apart And Then Pounds Their Own Butt

Pounded In The Butt By My Constantly Changing Thoughts On The Ongoing Mystery Of Chuck Tingle’s Real Identity

Slammed In The Butt By The Handsome Sentient Manifestation Of Election Day

Hard For Hardwick: Pounded In The Butt By The Physical Manifestation Of My Own Handsome Late Night Comedy Show

Pounded In The Butt By The Sentient Physical Manifestation Of The Year 2016

Redacted In The Butt By Redacted Under The Tromp Administration

Pounded By The Sentient Manifestation Of My Incorrectly Announced Best Picture Winner

Domald Tromp Pounded In The Butt By His Fabricated Wiretapping Scandal Made Up To Redirect Focus Away From His Seemingly Endless Unethical Connections To Russia

The Handsome Pretendo Swap Joysicks And Portable Screen Slam My Butt While Also Allowing Me To Control My Game

Pounded In The Butt By The Sentient Manifestation Of My Own Ignorant Climate Change Denial

Pounded In The Butt By My Second Hugo Award Nomination

Domald Tromp’s Ass Is Haunted By The Handsome Ghost Of His Incriminating Tax Returns

Pounded In The Wallet And The Butt By The Failed Fyber Music Festival

I’m In Love With The Handsome Mummy Racecar In My Butt

Living Corn James Corny Fired In The Butt

Pounded In The Butt By My Book “Pounded In The Butt By My Book ‘Pounded In The Butt By My Book “Pounded In The Butt By My Book ‘Pounded In The Butt By My Book “Pounded In The Butt By My Own Butt”’”’”

Slammed By My Handsome Fidget Spinner

Pounded In The Butt By Covfefe

There’s A Bitcoin In My Butt And He Is Handsome

Domald Tromp Jr. Slammed In The Butt By His Secret Russian Meetings And The Grossly Incompetent Cover Up Shortly Thereafter

Pounded In The Butt By The Fact That It Took Less Time For This Book To Be Written And Published Than The Entire Length Of Tony Scarymoochy’s Term As White House Communications Director

My Butt Is Comforted By The Realization That I’m Okay And Everything Will Be Alright

Billionaire Elons Mugg Takes The Handsome Planet Mars In His Butt

The Handsome Physical Manifestation Of Autumn Turns Me Gay

Pounded By The Handsome Zombie Elevator Who Is Also A Lawyer

Sentient Fort Pauls Manofort Is Charged In The Butt While Tromp’s Foreign Policy Advisor Georgie Papadop Admits He Lied About Hiding Inside

Pounded In The Butt By The Handsome Physical Manifestation Of Holiday Shopping

Sentient Phantom Tow Truck Pounds My Butt

Slammed In The Butt By My Handsome Laundry Detergent Pod

Taken Hotly By My Handsome Physically Manifested Hot Take

Pounded In The Butt By The Sentient Physical Manifestation Of Valentine’s Day

My Handsome Mountain Bike Is A Doctor And He Pounds My Butt

Rammed In The Butt By The Handsome Sentient Manifestation Of Traffic Who Is A Bad Boy

Pounded In The Butt By My Podcast “Night Vale Presents Pounded In The Butt By My Podcast With Chuck Tingle”

News Commentator Sam Hannity Pounded In The Butt By The Fact That He Didn’t Disclose He Has The Same Lawyer As The President

Seduced By The Handsome Physically Manifested Sound That Some People Hear As Yanny And Others Hear As Laurel

Tuesday Pounds Me In The Butt

Wednesday Pounds Me In The Butt

Thursday Pounds Me In The Butt

Friday Pounds Me In The Butt

Saturday Pounds Me In The Butt

Sunday Pounds Me In The Butt

A Pound A Day Keeps The Butt OK: 7 Hardcore Tales Of Physically Manifested Days Of The Week

The Banana In My Butt Is A Handsome Lifeguard

Veep Throat: Mike Bence Pounded In The Butt By The Word Lodestar

Wereplane Butt Party

Pounded In The Butt By The Blue Wave

Pounded In The Butt By The Unexpectedly Early Arrival Of Christmas Decorations

Pounded In The Butt By The Physical Manifestation Of Awkward Political Dinner Discussion Over The Thanksgiving Holiday

The Federal Government Shuts Down My Butt

Slammed In The Butt By My Sentient Plant Based Vegetarian Cheeseburger

Pounded In The Butt By The Handsome Sentient Manifestation Of My Twitch Stream

There’s A Polar Vortex In My Butt And He Is Handsome

The Analboros: A Collection Of Recursive Butt Pounding Tales

Canada Pounds My Butt And Covers My Pancakes With Real Maple Syrup In An Erotic Way Also It Is Delicious

Pounded In The Butt By The Crushing Existential Weight Of Sentient Self-Awareness

Quietly Pounded In The Butt By ASMR

Brexit Pounds My Butt Then Thankfully Decides Not To Exit It

Pounded In The Butt By Fan Fiction Hosting Website Archive Of Our Own’s Hugo Award Nomination

The Entire Continent Of Australia Pounds Me In The Butt

Pounded In The Butt By The Physical Manifestation Of Chuck Tingle’s Science Fiction And Comic Book Convention Appearance

Pounded In The Butt By The Sun After Declining To Use Sunscreen

The Tell-Tale Butt

Pounded In The Butt By Area 51 While Attempting To Storm It

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 1

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 2

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 3

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 4

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 5

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 6

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 7

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 8

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 9

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 10

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 11

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 12

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 13

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 14

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 15

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 16

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 17

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 18

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 19

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 20

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 21

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 21

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 22

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 23

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 24

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 25

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 26

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 27

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 28

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 29

Chuck’s Living Object Tinglers: Volume 30

No Sex Tinglers

Not Pounded In The Butt By Anything And That’s Okay

Not Pounded In The Butt By My Book “Not Pounded In The Butt By Anything And That’s Okay” And That’s Okay

Not Pounded At The Last Second Because Consent Can Be Given And Revoked At Any Moment And This Is A Wonderful Thing That’s Important To Understand

Not Pounded By The Physical Manifestation Of My Need To Please Everyone Because Sometimes It’s Okay To Give Back To Yourself

Nice Guy Dinosaur Doesn’t Pound Me In The Butt Because I’m Not Interested And He’s Not Actually Nice He’s Just Annoying And Creepy And Doesn’t Respect My Boundaries When I Tell Him We’re Not On A Date

Dressed Up Handsome And Not Pounded Because Cosplay Is Not Consent

Not Pounded By Anything: Six Platonic Tales Of Non-Sexual Encounters

Lesbian Tinglers

Sentient Lesbian Jet Ski Gets Me Off

My T-Rex Barber Is A Lesbian And She Eats Me Right

Trans Tinglers

Pounded By My Handsome Bigfoot Pilot: A Trans Buckaroo Tale

Self Help

Dr. Chuck Tingle’s Complete Guide To Romance

Dr. Chuck Tingle’s Complete Guide To Sport

Dr. Chuck Tingle’s Complete Guide To The Void

Dr. Chuck Tingle’s Complete Guide To Film

Dr. Chuck Tingle’s Complete Guide To Time

Novels/Other

Helicopter Man Pounds Dinosaur Billionaire Ass (A Novel)

Buttageddon: The Final Days Of Pounding Ass

Scary Stories To Tingle Your Butt: 7 Gay Tales Of Terror

Scary Stories To Tingle Your Butt: 7 Gay Tales Of Terror Vol. 2

Pounded By Politics: Nine Tales Of Civic Butthole Diplomacy

Pounded By Politics Again: Nine More Tales Of Civic Butthole Diplomacy

Breaking The Fourth Butt: Eight Hot-To-Trot Meta Tinglers

Breaking The Fourth Butt Volume 2: Eight More Hot-To-Trot Meta Tinglers

Handsome Sentient Food Pounds My Butt And Turns Me Gay: Eight Tales Of Hot Food And Beverage Love

Oh, The Places You’ll Blow! An Adults Only Collection Of Sentient Location Erotica

About Dr. Tingle…

Dr. Chuck Tingle is a Hugo Nominated erotic author and Tae Kwon Do grandmaster (almost black belt) from Billings, Montana. After receiving his PhD at DeVry University in holistic massage, Chuck found himself fascinated by all things sensual, leading to his creation of the "tingler", a story so blissfully erotic that it cannot be experienced without eliciting a sharp tingle down the spine. Chuck's hobbies include backpacking, checkers and sport.

If you would like to know more about Dr. Tingle, you may visit his website or write to him at ChuckTheTingler@gmail.com

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