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How Dirty Are You? is FREE on Amazon.com!

Dumpsterotica: How Dirty Are You? is FREE on Amazon.com!

#11 in Erotica!

#213 in the FREE Kindle Store.

Go download your copy now!

Dumpster Sex is stinking up the joint everywhere

You can now find Dumpsterotica -- all 3 books/short stories -- at BookStrand, Amazon, B&N, ARe and Smashwords.

Happy reading, wherever you go.

And Dumpsterotica: How Dirty Are You? is still free!

How Dirty Are You? is now on Smashwords!

Have it your way -- ePub, HTML, PDF, whatever -- get your copy of the short story that starts the three-book saga...

Book 3 is coming any day now! Look for Dumpsterotica: A Hole in One

Uploaded and waiting for publishing on Kindle NOW.

New sample! From Dumpsterotica: A Hole in One

The third book in my Dumpsterotica series is underway. Here's a taste!

What is that man thinking? Marcia wondered, eyeing her husband as he pulled into the driveway. Every window was open on his car, and she could hear the air conditioner running. A whiff of White Linen perfume wafted past her. She hadn't smelled that in years, not since their college graduation, when her mother had informed her that Estee Lauder was passe. No scent was the new scent, so she'd gone bare ever since.

Joe scurried out of his car as if she'd shouted “Free blow jobs, Honey!”

As he shut the door, a new wave of odor hit her.

White Linen and death.

Death covered in Hairy Buffalo vomit.

She remembered that moment, his junior year, a few months into dating, when he hadn't answered emails and she heard the rumors. Death had struck the Delta Upsilon Mu house, and it wasn't pretty.

Her Mama hadn't raised a wimp, so she decided to go make sure he was okay.

Maybe that's why she was attracted to fucking in dumpsters, because the Delta Ups were forever known, after that day, as the Chuck Ups.

All she could think to do, especially after seeing mold growing on the frat president's puke-covered shirt (which he was still wearing), was to take Joe outside, hose him down with a garden sprayer, strip him naked in the front lawn and roll him in a picnic blanket from her trunk.

Remarkably, the naked man on the front lawn went unnoticed, such was the Delta Ups reputation. What did make the rumor mill, though, was Marcia's fortitude in rescuing Joe. No other girlfriend or fiance had done so. She was known, for the rest of the year, as Iron Maiden.

She snuck him in her dorm and he lived in a small closet for two days. Her roommate, a women's shot put record holder, lent him clothes. His recovery involved Wonder Bread, diet Dr. Pepper, and a steady supply of Flintstones Vitamins, administered four times a day.

What on earth was that man doing?

Sometimes she wondered why she'd saved him.

He opened the hatch of his Prius and began throwing bag after bag into the driveway dumpster, thin streams of liquid splaying from the cornered bottoms of shiny black trash bags, the liquid arching and falling in spatter patterns, like blood at a violent crime scene.

Oh, someone was about to get hurt, all right. She was going to kill him.

LibraryThing Giveaway is yielding great reviews for How Dirty Are You?

I offered a review giveaway on LibraryThing at the end of August. 100 readers responded and requested a copy of the short story.

Then Hurricane Irene hit. I'm still finishing sending off review copies, as life has been tough for the past month as we recover from the storm's impact on our life, but I'm also overwhelmed and grateful for the reviews that have been trickling in, on Amazon especially.

Read them here!

Nothing Like a Big Gusher to Slow You Down!

Now, now, I'm talking about Hurricane Irene!

I lost power and went through the general mayhem that comes from multiple days without electricity. Thank goodness for batteries!

(Again, get your mind out the gutter, you naughty thing!).

So while I was without email, it turns out Clemency Joplin wrote about Dumpsterotica! Check out her great blog, loaded with vintage/20th century images, sexually-oriented illustrations (not hers, but her reviews of various graphic artists/artists), and book reviews. I know a senior woman in my life who would love to read Naked at Our Age.

Nice sudden boost in sales! So who is it? Come out, come out...

I appreciate the sudden spurt (no pun intended) of sales for my erotic comedy, How Dirty Are You?.

So whoever is linking to it, thank you! Reveal yourself so I can express my appreciation!

I'm interviewed on No Trees Harmed! Dumpsterotica Series Featured

Donna at No Trees Harmed was wonderful and interviewed me for her blog, No Trees Harmed. I talked about Dumpsterotica: Talk Dirty to Me. Five lucky readers will win a free copy! Go and enter!

Online porn vs. romance novels: which wins?

In 2008, as many people read an English-language romance novel as visited online porn sites, according to Instapundit.

In 2011, will romance novels win the catfight? With the increase in erotic romances (and I consider Dumpsterotica to be an erotic romance as much as it is erotica) are more people exploring the genre and the "romantica" aspect of erotic writing?

I'll take a stab at a prediction and say that eReaders (free apps and devices included) tipped the scales this year toward the written word.

"Erotica is when you use a feather, porn is when you use the whole chicken."

Erotica is when you use a feather, porn is when you use the whole chicken. -- Isabel Allende

Stop! We Have Cameras!

Lights! Cameras! Dumpster action!

Dumpsterotica Nook Options!

Nook lovers (heh) can find How Dirty Are You? and Talk Dirty to Me on Nook now.

Happy reading!

Sample Sunday! Talk Dirty to Me Excerpt

Book 2 in the Dumpsterotica series is out on Kindle and Nook for just $.99. Here's a nice, long excerpt from Talk Dirty to Me to catch your interest!

If she could have, Marcia would have come that second.

He grabbed her and threw her on the bed.

Then he stripped naked and joined her, his penis a steel rod and her vagina an electromagnet. Labia drew him to her like an oxygen tank getting sucked into an MRI tube, as if –

And then she saw the tampons.

“Son of a bitch!” she said, pawing them off her custom-made pillow. Joe laughed, a wicked, defiant sound that made her pulse quicken, a deep throb forming in her clitoris. Sweeping the pillow and her old tampons aside stirred a scent of rotten steak and she cringed.

“This isn't exactly what I –” and then his mouth was on her, between her long-suffering thighs, tongue lightly dancing on her pulsing red nub, soothing the burn and stirring the fire all at once. She inhaled the scent of garbage, rotten chicken and blood and aloe-scented tissues and limp celery – and began to gag.

On. Off. On. Off. As Joe's tongue worked magic with her labia and clit, licking up and strumming her skin like a guitar, pressing the perfect frets to find the right chord that would activate her inner harmony and crescendo, Marcia vacillated between ecstasy and disgust.

Unlike the dumpster, the garbage on her bed, strewn all over her chenille bedspread whose pinstripes perfectly matched the knobs on her nightstand drawers, repelled her.

Joe, on the other hand, seemed to be really into this, reaching for a banana peel and rubbing it on her hip. No matter how often she turned and writhed and scrambled to get away, he pinned her ass in place and ground the rotten peel into her hipbone, triggering a loathing that quickly overcame any arousal he generated with his skilled tongue.

Off finally won out and she said, “What on earth are you doing with that banana peel?”

Confusion clouded his face as he frowned. “It seemed to excite you when we were in the dumpster, so I...”

A lead ball of dread filled her stomach. “It did?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You don't remember?”

“No.”

For the first time since he'd found her in the bathroom he laughed, a rich, true laugh of mellow and joy. Joe's laugh. “Ah, well, I do.” He crawled up her belly and leaned into her, pressing himself against her, the smattering of chest hair sliding up her public bone, over her navel, stretching on the ribs and arching her nipples into twin peaks.

When he kissed her she tasted herself and smiled through the kiss, desire blooming again, chasing away the lead weight of doom in her gut.

“So – a banana peel? Really?” she asked, laughing, her hand reaching for his stiff cock.

He sucked in half the air in the room. “Yes.”

As much as she wanted to blow him, to take him into her warm, wet mouth and to run her tongue over him, make him grow inside her until she made her mouth more enticing than any vagina, she knew if she did this would end quickly.

Instead, she used her hands to roam over his ass and hips, sliding up his back and over his shoulders, hoping that this time having him inside her would do the trick for them both.

Taking command, Marcia climbed on top and plunged him inside her. The wave started and she felt the tingling in her knees, shooting up like a line of kerosene set afire, a straight shot to her pussy. A cherry bomb of heat opened her wider, made her ride him harder until she was pogosticking him.

His face changed as Marcia watched, roaming her hands over his pecs, settling on his shoulders to catch a better angle and bracing against him. The pounding triggered a wave of pleasure in her and she felt unleashed, ready to lose all walls and boundaries and to become one with Joe, one with everything, even her vagina-smeared Etsy pillow.

“Talk dirty to me,” she whispered. They'd tried it, once, on their honeymoon, and Marcia had been too embarrassed to ask again.

“Uh, OK,” Joe replied, his voice carrying a note of surprise and playfulness. He paused, then said, “Rotten tomatoes. Old coffee grounds. Ooo – three-day-old shrimp in garlic sauce...”

Marcia sat all the way up and punched him in the solar plexus as hard as she could. He arched, hard, upward into her, as much a Newtonian reaction as a remnant of pleasure. And then his erection closed in on itself, his cock sliding out of her like a wet, buttered noodle.

Dumpsterotica featured on Kindleboards banner tomorrow!

Are you a Kindleboards member? Readers and writers who use Kindle congregate at "KB" to share tips on good books, free books, the ins and outs of publishing (for writers), outstanding genre favorites (for readers), and so much more.

My Dumpsterotica series will be featured in the leaderboard banner tomorrow, July 16, with an animated banner designed by Streetlight Graphics, the same company that designed the covers for How Dirty Are You? and Talk Dirty to Me.

Check it out tomorrow and let me know what you think!

Tucker Max and Butt Secks. It's All Dirty.

How in the hell have I NOT heard of Tucker Max? Now I need to go spend more money on books and read his, huh? Damn it. As if I don't have an absolutely enormous TBR queue in my hacked Kindle app for Ubuntu.

You will never, ever think of ass sex (if you think about anal at all -- and come on, everyone does at least once. Think about it, I mean) the same way again after this. Makes me think of the infamous scene from the first episode of Californication. You know -- the painting Hank pukes on?

Now I'm wondering if Tucker ever had sex in a dumpster.

FREE copy of Talk Dirty to Me -- learn how to get yours!

I'm running a promotion right now -- the second book in the Dumpsterotica erotic comedy series is going live this Saturday. More than four times the length of How Dirty Are You?, the next installment, Talk Dirty to Me, looks at how Joe and Marcia handle her...sensual, robust power that seems to put the "ick" in erotica.

Description for the upcoming Dumpsterotica: Talk Dirty to Me:

When Joe walks in on his wife, Marcia, in the bathroom using health and beauty supplies as sex toys, he's furious to learn she's been taking matters into her own hands nine times a week -- while sleeping with him only once a month. Marcia, horrified to be discovered, breaks down and fears he'll leave her. Her answer? Marriage counseling.

Dr. Jude Fourier has an opening that night for couples counseling, but Joe and Marcia discover that Fourier has some fetishes of his own. A Mr. Clean lookalike with a Hannibal Lecter demeanor, it turns out Dr. Fourier and Marcia met a few years ago, under extraordinary circumstances that Marcia would just as soon forget...but that Dr. Fourier immortalizes in a shrine that makes the Marquis de Sade look like a wimp.

By the end of the evening Marcia's sexual frustration reaches supernova proportions -- and the shock waves will take you for a wild ride as she lets her freak flag fly. Dumpsterotica: Talk Dirty to Me, is 16,000 rollicking words of arousing fun.

So here's the promotion to get your FREE copy of Talk Dirty to Me:

1. Buy Dumpsterotica: How Dirty Are You?, the first in the series.
2. Write a review on Amazon for the short story.
3. Send me an email at dumpsterotica@gmail.com telling me your Amazon username and your email address so I can send you a gifted, FREE copy of the new eBook, Talk Dirty to Me. I'll send all free eBooks out after July 20.

That's it! Happy reading, and thanks!

Night Owl Reviews Author Page for Me!

So I have an author page now at Night Owl Reviews and will be guest blogging in October. Night Owl Erotica is a very well-organized site for both readers and authors. Excellent paid and free promotion option, a thick archive of reviews and plenty of new-release coverage, and the site's relatively easy to navigate. Check it out.

An Excerpt from Talk Dirty to Me -- Next in the Dumpsterotica Series

I'm about to publish the second in the erotic comedy series, Dumpsterotica: Talk Dirty to Me. Here's a nice excerpt from the book:

Here was his lawfully-wedded wife, prostrate before him with her knees in two aluminum chafing dishes once filled with what looked like baked ziti, dishing up a blow job and a teabagging, and something that Urban Dictionary had not yet invented a word for – but it needed one, stat. Lubed up hands covered in the restaurant's signature tomato sauce made their way across his tight ass muscles while her lips and tongue nipped and laved and wandered over terrain he thought only his hand and some Clairol Herbal Essences hair conditioner would ever know.

She stopped and he choked, a begging grunt caught in his throat, the need a sob.

“My turn,” she said with a grin that glittered, brighter than the pearls around her neck, part of a set he'd given her for her 25th birthday. How he wished to give her a very different pearl necklace right now, but he could wait and do that a different time. Right now he needed to make her scream a holy climax that St. Peter and Lucifer would hear at once, that would make both sigh with anticipation of a new body at their respective gates, a scream that Hades would admire and bottle and sell on eBay as elixir for the Gods on Mount Olympus. And gouge them on shipping and handling charges.

Müllcontainerotica: Wie schmutzig sind Sie?

Hello, my German friends! I have a secret shame to share with you. It's called the Beige Bar of Shame.

When you write and publish an eBook on Amazon.com/.uk/.de, you receive a report that tallies your monthly sales. A beige bar appears when you've made ZERO sales for one of the three sites.

It's a very sad beige bar. It says "There are no sales to report during this period."

It is a Beige Bar of Shame, or BBoS. My secret shame.

Meine freunden. Ich spreche ein bission Deutsche. Bitte, bitte, kaufen mein bucher.

See? I did that WITHOUT Google translate. Can you believe it? I'm so cultured. Thomas Mann would be impressed, no?

So far, not ONE GERMAN has bought a copy of Dumpsterotica: How Dirty Are You? Yet I've heard that Germans can be pretty...quirky. Kinky. Dirty, even.

So where are you? Prove yourselves!

Dumpsterotica is multilingual. Yes, it involves many, many tongues. :P :P :P

So check it out! Müllcontainerotica: Wie schmutzig sind Sie?

Tschüss!

Dumpster Diving. Literally.

Not only do people have sex in them, but some people convert dumpsters into self-contained swimming pools. The New York Times covered the dumpster pool phenomenon. Urban renewal at its finest (and coolest).

Buy Dumpsterotica: How Dirty Are You? Now for $.99!

It's alive! It's alive!

Dumpsterotica: How Dirty Are You? on Kindle.

In all its stinky, luscious glory.

You know you want to read it to find out just how dirty are you...

Go for it. Shhh...I won't tell. ;)

Sex in Dumpsters on Facebook

Ahahahahaha! Love it! "Like" the page!

But Enough About You

So here's a little about me:

Allie Beck's passion is writing. She knew she wanted to be a writer when she was in second grade and published a poem in her elementary school newsletter titled: “Kierkegaard's Revenge: Reflections of Nietzsche in Barth's Work.” She came up with the idea for Dumpsterotica after watching two skunks eating a John Edwards campaign poster out of a garbage can. Beck lives in a New England town known as a refugee point for accused witches and in her spare time sells Baby Jesus Butt Plugs to raise money for The Westboro Baptist Church. She does not own an electric toothbrush of any kind.

Here's a free erotica story with a character in a dumpster!

It's not quite the same as Dumpsterotica, but it got me excited!

Jill Myles is serving up a prequel to her Succubus Diaries series - and the main character spends some time in a dumpster. Happy reading!

Foreplay, by Jill Myles

Dumpsterotica: How Dirty Are You? Sample

The first story in the erotic comedy series, Dumpsterotica, goes out on Kindle/Nook/Smashwords June 10-11.

Here's a sample from "How Dirty Are You?" Happy filthy reading ;)

It all had to start with a bottle of champagne. Not just any champagne, and not just the right bottle of champagne. It had to be a bottle of champagne expensive enough to get her to fuck Joe.

If he was lucky, Marcia would be in the mood once a month. But a bottle of Taittinger – and it had to be over $100 – was good for at least one or two rounds of sex on any given night.

Lately, though, even the champagne wasn't cutting it. He had to combine it with a really nice restaurant. And really nice as in – bend over and shit $100 bills. Joe sighed and made a reservation for seven o'clock on a Saturday at the new French-Thai fusion place he read about in a friend's Tweet. He called Marcia at work to tell her about the reservation for dinner. She wasn't at her desk, so he left a voicemail message.

* * *

Marcia wasn't at her desk to answer Joe's call because she was in the bathroom masturbating. Most women prefer to keep the skin on their clitoris, but Marcia didn't much care anymore. The head of her electric toothbrush faced away from her clit most of the time, though, and the vibrations were finally clearing her mind. No more thoughts of benefits packages and coworker complaints about harassment or body odor-challenged colleagues. Licking her fingers, she touched herself to lubricate and felt her hard nub. Rocking her hips lightly against the toothbrush, she caught the tight rhythm that would make the tension go away.

Warmth flooded her pussy and her labia ballooned, throbbing and hot now and so wet that the head of the toothbrush slipped, tangling with her pubic hair. The hair tugging felt good, adding a jolt of exciting pain as she put the vibration back where it belonged, her clit suddenly catching exactly what it needed. Inner thigh muscles screamed, strong and hot as red steel as she came and came and came, her hips curving up and in at the exact moment she plunged the spinning toothbrush head inside her vagina, the soft bristles scrubbing her g-spot. Through gritted teeth she let a low moan escape as she looked at the ceiling and bucked against the toothbrush as if she were riding a mechanical bull, careful to hold the handle firmly.

Experience had taught her that the vagina can be a vacuum at the most inopportune of moments, and a few years ago she'd paid a $3,000 emergency room bill out of pocket to avoid having the charge appear on her insurance, where her colleagues in Human Resources might have seen the claim. The damage to her cervix had been minimal but she had become a legend on ER doctor Internet forums, know as “Vagina Dentata.”

Marcia masturbated at work every day because it was the only way she could come.

Now it's happening in Washington, too!

More people having sex in dumpsters, completely naked.

Who knew it was a trend?

Putting the "rot" in erotica.

Sex in a dumpster isn't anything new.

But for Marcia and Joe, it's made sex dirtier than they ever imagined.