Possibly the single most disturbing aspect of the collected works of
H. P. Lovecraft is his portrait, which combines the
raw sexuality of a repressed
televangelist, and passionate
joie de vivre of a sleep deprived
mortician:
http://www.hplovecraft.com/
It is therefore with no small degree of trepidation that I reveal that which has been covered in darkness and kept far from the world's innocent light, that none shall need quiver with base corruption*: The erotica of H.P. Lovecraft.
*naturally, I'm all for base corruption, hence when I found the works stashed behind some vegetarian burgers in my freezer, I exclaimed: "kewl!"*
some quotes from a selection of the less lurid works are displayed below:
The Temptations of Shub-Niggurath
"Her teats swollen with hellish sustenance, goat rump shewed high and sinister under that greenish alien moon. A monstrous guilt assailed me. I do not recall when, the shrieking vapours were clouding my faculties and robbing reason, yet I became aroused and was drawn to her, all the while gibbering in a dark tongue."
Nyarlathotep cried 'Proceed!'
"The hellish season progressed indeterminably, without change or hope of succor. I had heard many pray in strange words for sign of rain. Whatever gods to which they had once owed control had died or left, and other unknownable forces had crept forth and taken ownership of their lives. It was then that I saw Nyarlathotep. He was of the old native blood, swarthy, lithe limbed and mysterious. He was carrying strange instruments of glass and metal, yet I could only seem to focus on his proud profile, and tight, high, Nile bred buttocks. My head swam with a black dizziness, and as if gripped by compulsion occult, I staggered toward him. Dark, unfathomable eyes drank me completely, and I knew that I was his creature, by choice or force."
The Alarming Excesses of the Fish-Cultists
"...it was then that they spied me, peering through the begrimed pane, as they cavorted and gibbered before that degenerate idol. I had been unable to properly view the creature, crudely constructed from filth and mud. Its form had seemed to swim across my vision, mere glimpses of a tentacled head, a mad staring chaos of eyes. I had momentarily swooned, and brushed the pane with my hand, alerting the base revellers within. They took me before the idol, and savagely rent the clothes from my person. Naked but for my protective belly sigils, I quivered upon the dank, slick floor. In moments they were upon me, probing, tweaking, licking, spanking. A profusion of gills, bewebbed fingers, degenerate scaled limbs and wet tongues. Luckily, I was powerless to stop them."
As you can see, H.P. was possessed of a powerful sexuality, limited in expressive form by the circumstances of his life. He obviously preferred the passive; hence much swooning and compulsion. Some of his darker works are not fit for publication, but will be featured in an Entertainment Tonight feature story, and discussed at length by theologians in suspiciously darkened rooms.