 I love you too, Billy, but you can't keep failing twelfth grade just to be with me. 
The Country School—A Teacher's Delight is—obviously—a sleaze novel. It was published in 1970 and has pretty nice Bill Edwards cover art. The book is fairly raunchy, and offers the added twist that author Sharon Gordon is also the star the tale. We really doubt it was actually written by a woman, though. We feel like a woman would be a lot more subtle:
“Now it's your turn to come. I'm going to let you fuck me!” I was delighted with my foul language directed at this tender youth. “Yes, you must fuck me. Fuck me long, fuck me hard, fuck me for all you're worth, and I hope it lasts all night. Honey, I want you to push that long, hard cock of yours as far up my pussy as it'll go. Now, stand up, I want you inside of me, all of you.”
And so forth. Do you want us to explain the plot? Do you think the plot even matters? Well, there's some same sex action, a threesome, a night when Sharon—that bad little schoolteacher—even services five guys. By the end she's decided to settle down with a guy named Ted, but on the bus to his town screws a sailor and realizes, “A leopard can't change its spots overnight.”
Sleaze books—and we can't believe we're going to say this—are better when they're less explicit. Yes, it's true. Because explicitness is usually a substitute for writing skill. When decent authors tackle sexual subject matter it can be really fun reading. The Country School—A Teacher's Delight is interesting, but it definitely isn't delightful.
 Um... let me call you back. I've got a really hairy situation I need to handle. 
Bill Edwards, the king of comical facial expressions, strikes again on this cover for Love's Final Act, written by Mark Daniels, 1964, for Saber Books. Daniels wrote a few other sleazers, including Wake Up with a Stranger and Lust of a Wanton. The latter cover is in our wanton soup collection, which you can see here.
 Her situation is already bad, but as it unfolds it gets even worse.  
A woman in a dire situation stars on this cover for Jack Leech's 1963 sleaze novel Satan's Daughters (interestingly, while Leech is credited as author on the outside, John Trimble gets credit inside, so take your pick). The artist here is Bill Edwards, and this is another foldout effort he painted for Europa Books. We love these things, but we wish there were more. As we mentioned previously, there are probably only five.
 It's not me. And it's certainly not you. So then who is this alleged virgin everyone is so jazzed about? 
Above, random sleaze from Tropic Books and Allan Horn, A Virgin in Their Midst, published in 1966 with cover art from Bill Edwards. We've seen a lot of Horn over the years, from A Taste of H to The Teaser. We haven't yet managed to buy one of his books, but don't be surprised if we get Horny eventually. If we do we'll report back.
 30 minutes or less? Great— Uh, actually cancel that. I'll pick it up. I just realized I have to head that direction anyway. 
Above, the cover of Sin Mill, by Robert M. Duffy, for Vega Books, copyright 1967. The art, which is by Bill Edwards, suggests far more than what happens in the story. While the main character Lucy does go into the Three Nickels brothel to use the phone—wearing a full winter outfit, not a coat over a nightie—and is mistaken by a naked customer for a prostitute before sprinting from the place, Sin Mill isn't really the sleaze novel it appears to be. Duffy wrote this with serious intent, a mostly uninspired examination of a poor country girl's attempt to get through college and into a better life. If there's one thing we hate it's false billing. When you sign up for a sleaze novel you should get a sleaze novel.
 I'm glad you boys are so eager. To start off, I'm going to watch you do it with each other for an hour or so. 
Above, a cover for The Wide Bed by Brenda Porter, a sleaze novel about a girl who loves her father as both as a provider and as someone central to her nascent sexual desires, and who, when daddy dies, finds she needs two men to take his place. We just... what can you say about these sleaze authors, other than that any idea would suffice? This one caught our eye thanks to the Bill Edwards art, identifiable both by style and by the beauty mark on his female figure. 1965, from Saber Tropic. See more Bill here.
 Don't let him get away girls! He's handsome, he's got money, and his digital history is squeaky clean! 
This is a rather funny cover for A.J. Davis's sleazer Man in Demand. These days, only a digital history that can't come back to cause major embarrassment could get women this hot. We're talking no porn memberships, zero Facebook pix in problematic Halloween costumes, and no late night Twitter gaffes. Good thing we already have girlfriends, because the crazy searches we do for Pulp Intl. alone would be enough to sink us. Some of the movie and book titles are astonishing. Top five all-time searches in Pulp Intl. history that have garnered crazy results:
1: Humiliated Nun 2: Teenage Sex Report 3: Gums 4: Prostitute Torture Hell 5: Cannibal Holocaust
Just do an image search on any of those terms with your filters off and you may need therapy—and a new computer. A.J. Davis obviously had something more mundane in mind in 1967, when he published Man in Demand, but even that title brings up some very interesting stuff. Davis was a pseudonym for James Burgin Dockery, Jr., and as usual, the art on this Saber-Tropic paperback is uncredited, but the trademark mole on pursuer no. 1's face indicates that the cover is by good old Bill Edwards. See more from him here. And here. And what the hell, here too.
 That stained old sofa, as you call it, is an authentic Hollywood casting couch. 
As always, the mole on the female figure's cheek serves as the signature of artist Bill Edwards. Here he handles the cover work on They Paid with Flesh by Tony Marcus. This tale is, shall we say, Weinsteinian in nature, as a middle aged producer beds aspiring actresses, while a young studio fixer tries to locate a missing starlet. Their paths intersect when the producer beds the fixer's ex, who he still may have feelings for. That's a perfectly workable set-up for a story, but instead the increasingly convoluted plot first veers off into a scheme to steal four million dollars from a deposed dictator who's planning a counterrevolution, and later focuses on the starlet's plan to change her identity through cosmetic surgery, though the doctor she's chosen is a serial killer. Did we say convoluted? We meant labyrinthine. But ultimately They Paid with Flesh is sleaze, so the plot pivots are mere lead-ins for explicit sex, in all its typical variations, and a couple that aren't typical—or even legal. We'd like the time we spent on this returned to us, but we'd also like a riad in Marrakech, and we aren't getting that either.
 A constant clicking noise? I don't hear anything. Anyway, state your full legal name then let's get into some compromising positions. 
The cover for Arnold Marmor's Ruthless Fraternity features possibly the least hidden camera in paperback history, but you have to love the art anyway. We've seen several blackmail covers, and they're tricky in that the artists are constrained by having to show both the camera and the intended victim of the set-up. It always turns out ridiculous in terms of believability, but they're always fun covers. The fraternity of the title is not literal. It refers to the proverbial journalistic boys club, and the story deals with the ins and outs, double-dealing, and machinations of a scandal magazine called Tell. We've featured Arnold Marmor books twice before, but had no idea how prolific the guy was. He wrote such sleazers as Bed Bait, Lust Lodge, and Boudoir Treachery, but also dabbled in spy novels and short stories. We'll probably run into him at a later date. This effort was 1960 and the art is by Bill Edwards.
 What the hell are you doing? Casual Friday starts next week. 
It's another humorous Bill Edwards cover for Saber Books, this time fronting Jack Moore's 1965 sleazer Party Girl. Wanna know what it's about? No need to be coy. We read them so you don't have to. Twenty year-old Sally Logan applies for an executive secretary position and is immediately made into a sex object, starting from the interview when the company president quizzes her about her bedroom habits, and the personnel manager makes her strip so he can check out her body. It's ridiculous, of course, especially in 2017's cultural landscape, but this being sleaze Sally is willing to do anything—just anything—to please her boss. And after all, the reason she decided to seek work in the first place was to meet a man. Mission accomplished. And accomplished again. And again. A good book? Of course not, but at least everyone gets a happy ending. And as a side note, we'd be remiss if we didn't thank Bill Edwards for being so good to us over years—his are by far the easiest covers to caption. Check here, here, here, and here to see what we mean.
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The headlines that mattered yesteryear.
1967—Dorothy Parker Dies
American poet and satirist Dorothy Parker, who was known for her wit and wisecracks, and was a charter member of famed Algonquin Round Table, dies of a heart attack at age seventy-three. In her will, she bequeaths her estate to the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. foundation. Following King's death, her estate is passed on to the NAACP. 1944—D-Day Begins
The Battle of Normandy, aka D-Day, begins with the landing of 155,000 Allied troops on the beaches of northern France in an event codenamed Operation Overlord. The German army by this time is already seriously depleted after their long but unsuccessful struggle to conquer Russia in the East, thus Allied soldiers quickly break through the Nazi defensive positions and push inland in the largest amphibious military operation in history. 1963—John Profumo Resigns
British Secretary of State for War John Profumo resigns after the revelation that he had been sexually involved with a showgirl and sometime prostitute named Christine Keeler. Among Keeler's close acquaintances was a senior Soviet naval attaché, thus in addition to Profumo committing adultery then lying about it before the House of Commons, authorities pressed for his resignation because they also feared he had been plied for state secrets. |
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