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He’s back, and he’s more oily than ever before! The Brown Knight returns to action in Excerpt #45, below…

Dear “51 Shades Of Brown” fans, before we get to the brand new excerpt, I just wanted to reassure you that I am alive and well. Since the presidential election in November, it has been a challenge to muster the wherewithal to deliver another sexy excerpt, but you all have given me the motivation.

As you can see above, this site is more internationally popular than ever before! People in remote villages have been periodically checking in on the Brown Knight’s adventures. #humbled #blessed

Please spread the word about — not only to your family and friends, but also to anyone you happen to see in public. Word of mouth is key. And the website is super easy to remember. 

And now, time for the new excerpt….


51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #45 [Chapter 181]

She wished, and even prayed, that she had just endured this indignity for the very last time ever. She couldn’t take it any more.

Anastasiya Viktoriya Kournikovasharapova had heard about the conditions in the gulags where her ancestors were forced to survive, but never did they have to tolerate being defiled the way that she had.

01 Gulag

The unforgiving, frigid Russian air chilled her bones tonight more deeply than ever before. Perched on the luxury hotel balcony, smoking a post-coital cigarette which failed to ease her emotional suffering, she began to shiver. She cocked her head back to chug down a shot of vodka distilled in her mother homeland, hoping to offer herself a momentary respite from the cold. Yet even this warming elixir failed to drown away her profound sorrows. 

Suddenly, she shuddered when he surprised her from behind by caressing her erect goosebumps with the small fingers on his extremely tiny hands. Her visceral disgust felt as though it was about to boil over.

04 Goosebumps

You were tremendous in there. Just tremendous. In a bigly way,” whispered the orange-skinned predator, clad only in a bathrobe with an over-sized embroidered “45” ostentatiously emblazoned on the back side. “You and your colleagues in there made my head spin. Just tremendous. Did you like how I walked into the hotel and grabbed you without consent? I’m a celebrity. I can do anything. A lot of people don’t know this, but that’s the definition of sexual assault. I actually invented those words. I use the best words. I’m really very smart. Covfefe.”

The haunting sound of Tic-Tac pellets bouncing off the walls of his pocket-sized container, as he extracted a candy and placed it on his reptilian tongue, made her want to vomit. The bright orange colored breath mints matched the tint on his shriveled, wrinkled skin. 

Anastasiya Viktoriya Kournikovasharapova never wanted her life to come to this. She never dreamed that she would end up selling her own body to the night, but Putin’s corrupt regime had brought her to her knees. 


07 Putin

So here she was in the executive suite at a hotel arranged by Putin himself, forced with other women to perform golden showers in front of this vile excuse for a man. 

This was not her first time participating in the sordid ritual for this particular celebrity, but on this occasion, she felt particularly disturbed by his unimpressive, microscopic package, which looked like a  reluctant sea turtle’s head barely poking out of its shell. He had defensively declared that he was experiencing “shrinkage,” but all the women present knew that the air was in fact warm within the temperature-controlled hotel bedroom. She couldn’t purge from her mind the horrifying image of his Cheeto-color spray tan smudging from his flabby body onto the bedsheets as he laid there nude to witness this orchestrated, shameful act by her and her female coworkers.

Just as the bile began to rise up her throat and she prepared herself to violently spew projectile vomit, Anastasiya Viktoriya Kournikovasharapova noticed sudden movement among his security detail within the hotel room, as a strong door knock echoed through the chamber and out to the balcony.

Oh goodie! It’s room service! My order is finally here! I’m starving! Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy…” he repeated as he charged inside. 

Through the disturbance in the room, she noticed a bellhop pushing in a dining cart which ended up being parked in the hotel room within a meter of the balcony where she stood. She observed the bellhop methodically surveying his surroundings. As he scanned the room, he ever so slightly turned towards the balcony to convey a disarming, devilish grin directed at the curvy Russian woman. At that moment, the bellhop’s face came into view and she realized that it was him. 

08 Bellhop

The international man of mystery himself. The Brown Knight in disguise. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram. A man among men. 

His brilliant disguise initially fooled her, because she had never before seen this world-famous hero without his signature mustache. Yet here he was with what appeared to be cleanly shaven skin above his upper lip, which glistened from the coconut oil which had been meticulously applied to his entire body.

Right then, for the first time ever when she had been in the same room with that perverted American, she felt safe. Protected. 

She could no longer suppress her desire to finally enjoy pleasures of the flesh again without the pretext of degradation. And she wanted to do that with him. He was the one.

She had never before been with an Indian man, but it had always been one of her deepest desires, as is the case for virtually all women in the world. She knew that behind every successful woman was a strong Indian man. And, good heavens, did she want the Brown Knight behind her. 

11b lip bite

Life without ever having enjoyed an Indian man would be akin to going through life without ever tasting crushed red pepper sprinkled onto a slice of pizza. She couldn’t go on eating Totino’s frozen pizza; she wanted a more sophisticated pizza slice for once in her life.

If he was a Slurpee, she was dying to slurp. She was thirsty. And she could smell the aroma of Indian spices emanating from his body, which only served to further whet her appetite. The legend of the man who launched a thousand tastebuds was overwhelming. 

This debonair Indian sex symbol had reinvented the wheel, and made it even better. If he were a bird, he would sleep in…and still get the worm. He was not just an Indian alpha male; he was the alpha male.

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram turned towards the divisive spray-tanned monster, pulled off the elegant metal plate cover, and revealed his room service order: an overcooked, rock hard, well done steak, with a small bowl filled with coconut chutney to be enjoyed as a garnish. 

The orange man-child, after seeing the Indian condiment, flipped out with an epic meltdown.

Where’s my ketchup?! I always have my well-done steaks with ketchup!!! Get me daddy–I mean, Vladimir—-I mean Mr. Putin on the phone! RIGHT NOW!” yelled Cheetolini as he stormed into the bedroom & slammed the door behind him in yet another one of his typical, childish tantrums.

14 ketchup

If he cries, he cries,” whispered the unsympathetic sultry Russian sex industry professional. 

During the commotion, as members of his security detail raced behind him to appease the spray-tanned clown with lollipops, the Brown Knight casually picked up a folder on the hotel table with the label “Dossier” on its cover, and slipped it under his bellhop jacket. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram was covertly playing 4 dimensional chess while everyone else in the room was playing checkers. In one motion, he lifted the tablecloth of the dining cart facing Anastasiya Viktoriya Kournikovasharapova to reveal a hidden compartment on the lower rack, and he twitched his head to indicate his instructions to her. 

She quickly climbed into the dining cart before he covered her hiding spot with the overhanging tablecloth and then pushed the stowaway through the hotel room door and down the hallway. She lifted up the tablecloth to catch a glimpse of her savior, just as he ripped off the fake skin above his lips, thereby releasing his engorged, thick, lustrous mustache which had been hidden beneath but now burst outward and seemingly throbbed. As the coconut oil residue from his mustache cover sprayed onto her milky white Russian skin, Anastasiya Viktoriya Kournikovasharapova moaned to the Brown Knight “I’m starving.” 

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram gallantly pushed the cart down the hallway into another hotel room, which had already been adorned with rose petals & dimly lit by candles, and whispered in response “I’m pleased that you’re hungry; tonight, Indian is on the menu.”

15 Rose petals candles

The Brown Knight, still cradling the dossier against his bosom with his daring Indian intelligence mission impeccably accomplished, gently closed the hotel room door for privacy to celebrate the spoils of his victory…

To learn more about Dr. Pablo Pistola, the award-winning author and expert twerker, please click on the following link:
If you’re interested in receiving updates when new excerpts are released, please click on “FOLLOW” at the very bottom. Scroll down to enjoy the 44 archived excerpts of “51 Shades of Brown,” with or without your love interest.
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Oh yeah, baby! It’s political season, so I’m releasing a very special excerpt to pay homage to this unique American process. Don’t worry. Donald Trump will not be making sweet, sweet orange Cheeto love in this excerpt; ain’t nobody got time for that! Enjoy, and as always, please apply coconut oil in moderation…

My Indian romance site has become an international sensation!!! #blessed #humbled

Please spread the word about — the website is so easy to remember! Tell your grandmother, your teacher, and even your pastor about this site!!!

Don’t EVER let a person tell you that an Indian dude ain’t a ladies’ man!

Indian machismo

And now, time for the new excerpt….


51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #44 [Chapter 175]

She couldn’t believe the depth of the media hysteria about these proceedings.
This wasn’t her first ride at the rodeo, so to speak. After all, she had worked so damn hard to become such a decorated political figure, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to get rattled by the frenzied interest of the international press.
Yet, despite her rationalizations, she felt her heart racing in her chest and perspiration accumulating in her loins.
The palpable buzz within this cavernous chamber reached a crescendo as he was escorted into the room towards the prominent table in front of the panel.
It was go-time
The officer approached him to administer the oath. “Will you tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?
The silence was so deafening, you could hear a pin drop. 
He looked directly at her, winked his glimmering brown eye, and said “I do.
This was her cue to speak. She collected her thoughts, took a deep breath and nervously swallowed before proclaiming “Here ye! Here ye! Please be seated. I now call to order this special Congressional hearing regarding the rampant use of coconut oil. For the record, please state your name for this panel.”
The magnificent brown gentleman paused, leaned forward towards the microphone positioned on the table top, and whispered “Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram.”
The flummoxed court reporter could barely keep up with his divine, never-ending Indian name, her rapid keystrokes barely keeping pace with the length of his polysyllabic surname. The Brown Knight, always keenly aware of angst among womenfolk, repeated his name phonetically for her benefit.
court reporter
The court reporter, saved by his kind lifeline, now smiled seductively at the international hero, as he reciprocated with a warm glance and a subtle licking of the coconut oil dribbling off his thick, lustrous mustache onto his upper lip.
Now that the oath has been administered, we shall begin this special session,” she firmly declared in an obvious, jealous attempt to interrupt the sexual tension burgeoning between the court reporter and the Indian folk hero. “As the head of this committee, I, Nancy Pelosi, will start things off.
Nancy knew this was her chance to have the full, undivided attention of this Indian sex symbol.
It is this committee’s hope that you at least acknowledge your role in the population’s overuse of coconut oil for every possible reason, from dry skin to frizzy hair,” declared Nancy Pelosi. “This committee has heard testimony from countless coconut oil addicts who claimed they had ’99 problems, and coconut oil solved over 86 of them’.
99 problems
An aphrodisiac as potent as coconut oil can be misused by the general public. Do you concede that your sex appeal was the seed for this lubricant epidemic afflicting hipsters?
The Brown Knight replied, “Perhaps. But, Madame Pelosi, you must understand: A playa like me can’t be turnin off da game.”
This is a matter much more important than your skillful art of seduction,” retorted the female politician. “No man should have this much power.”
Despite her stern admonishment of him, her mind began to race from fantasy to fantasy, one after the other after the other. She dreamed about sharing a sensual coconut oil slip’n’slide with him on the private grounds of her Bay Area estate.
She imagined spooning with Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram. Nancy nearly wondered aloud whether she would prefer to be the spoonee to enjoy the tickling sensation of the copious amount of coconut oil on his mustache tenderly dribble onto her ears, or to be the spooner so that she could bury her face in his coconut oil drenched hair and whiff his aroma of garam masala & various other Indian spices.
indian spices
In an instant, an agitated Caucasian Republican committee member yelled at the Brown Knight “YOU LIE!!! THIS COCONUT OIL THING IS A TOTAL FAD! THIS MAN’S ‘BROWN IS BEAUTIFUL’ NARRATIVE IS A DIRECT THREAT TO OUR WAY OF LIFE! IN FACT, ONE OF MY CONSTITUENTS TOLD ME THAT SHE HAS EXPERIMENTED WITH INHALATIONAL COCONUT OIL BY VAPING!!!” The angry GOP member with a perfect hair part, befitting of an oil industry executive, grew so furious that he began to tremble.
angry republican
ORDER! ORDER!! ORDER!!!” yelled Nancy Pelosi, as she desperately tried to regain control of the hearing while repeatedly slamming her gavel onto her antique wooden desk.
It is in the interest of pubic…I mean….Uhhh,” stammered Nancy. What an embarrassing faux pais! “It is in the best interest for the public to know about the risks of excessive coconut oil use.
But bae,” answered the Brown Knight, “I’ve always warned people that, after coconut oil application, if their sexiness lasts more than 4 hours, they should call a doctor as they may be experiencing a dangerous effect of coconut oil: sexiness overload.”
Nancy sensed that her nipples, which crowned her supple breasts, were growing more erect by the second. Her sensual thoughts were interrupted by the ice cold piercing, jealous stare of Hillary Clinton, who sat in the first row of the viewing gallery.
angry clinton
Hillary was willing to give everything away, everything, including her presidential bid, just to enjoy one more glorious night with Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram.
Hillary would spill the beans about Benghazi & her hidden, deleted State Department emails just to feel his gentle, yet rugged, touch.
Nancy’s envy came gushing back all at once when she saw Hillary undressing the Brown Knight with her eyes.
Nancy_pelosi MAD
Nancy wondered if she should flaunt the affection shown to her by other powerful men, in an effort to make this fine Indian man notice that she was a hot-blooded woman.
She had to act!
In the most stunning moment ever broadcast on the C-SPAN television network, Nancy Pelosi suddenly pulled out a massive jar of extra virgin coconut oil from underneath her desk, causing the entire audience to gasp in unison. 
If I may invoke my authority as the head of this Congressional committee, I demand that Mr. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram accompany me right now to my office to personally demonstrate safe application of coconut oil to both of our glistening bodies.” 
Dutifully, the Brown Knight stood up and exited the room hand-in-hand with Nancy Pelosi and her lubricant jar, as the galvanized, thunderstruck audience members erupted in a jubilant standing ovation.
hillary laugh
Amid the unbridled bliss within the hearing chamber, Hillary Clinton quickly gathered her own coconut oil jar and raced out of the room to follow the couple and partake in their greasy delight…
Dr Pablo Pistola
To learn more about Dr. Pablo Pistola, the award-winning author and expert twerker, please click on the following link:
If you’re interested in receiving updates when new excerpts are released, please click on “FOLLOW” at the very bottom. Scroll down to enjoy the 43 archived excerpts of “51 Shades of Brown” with or without your love interest.
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Have no fear, #SexyTime is here! Here’s a brand new excerpt to satisfy your cravings for this award-winning Indian romace satire website. To be clear, I am not aware of any competitor. But if another Indian romance satire outlet gets created, I’m 100% sure that mine is the best. Please enjoy. And as always, use coconut oil in moderation.



This site has continued to gain international traction and popularity!

Views 1

Did you know that was the most discussed reading material at Indian aunty-ji book clubs around the world?aunty-ji

If you want to impress your lover, consider making a batch of chocolate covered coconut oil!

chocolate covered coconut oil

Please spread the word about on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat & MySpace!


And without further ado, here is the newest excerpt:


51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #43 [Chapter 172]

Valencia Contreras Balderas Calderas De Jesús appeared visibly shaken. 
She could not hide her emotions after reading the scathing bombshell text sent by her long-time boyfriend, in which he demanded “space” and “freedom” from her. The foundation of her world was in shambles.
text received
As she opened the door and entered, she quickly attempted to collect herself. 
Why did I come here in the first place?” muttered the disoriented vixen to herself in an attempt to bring things back into focus.
She had come here at this odd hour to purchase a pint of ice cream to drown her sorrows away. Each spoonful of frosty delight would blunt the pain she now felt in her heart. 
This is how we dooooo iiiiiiiit!” echoed throughout the chamber from the radio speakers. The song lyrics tugged at her heartstrings. “Oh my god,” whispered Valencia Contreras Balderas Calderas De Jesús. “That was our song.” She started to tremble, not only because of the musical selection which always put her in the mood for hanky-panky, but also because she felt overwhelmed by the vast array of ice cream flavor choices available in the freezer section.
ice cream freezer
Ma’am, are you cold?” uttered a comforting masculine voice with a thick Indian accent.
Valencia Contreras Balderas Calderas De Jesús, startled by his presence, immediately noticed that she had been shivering like an epileptic patient in the midst of violent convulsions. 
But there he stood: a beacon of warmth in the cold refrigerated section of this local gas station. 
Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram, the sexual legend himself, reached his arm around her to help increase her core body temperature. 
Not all heroes wear capes,” she thought to herself.
The Brown Knight, India’s greatest sex symbol, just so happened to be working the overnight graveyard shift at this 7-Eleven convenience store!
7 Eleven
And not only was she able to openly gaze at his thick, lustrous mustache in person, but she could do it with no-strings-attached after all of a sudden finding herself wildly, and conveniently, single.
May I help you select an ice cream flavor?” inquired the gentleman with the skinny, bony frame, typical of men in the mother homeland of India.
I lust for some chocolate,” whispered the Latina diva as her voice trailed off, “the darker, the better...”
At that moment, she glanced at his mocha-colored skin underneath his body hair tufts, which had been perfectly coated with coconut oil lubricant. Valencia immediately concluded that this Indian man was much more handsome than Apu, the most famous convenience store character on television.
She wondered if she had made her carnal desires too obvious to the noble cashier.
With his arm still wrapped around her shoulders, he opened the door to the freezer and selected a pint of the “Dark Chocolate Desires” ice cream flavor. 
ice cream pint
Oh no!” exclaimed the fit woman. “I usually get lite ice cream so that I can maintain my perfect, toned figure. This has far too many calories.
Valencia boo bae, you don’t gotta worry ’bout none of that. Those calories will go to all the right places on your tight body,” Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram convincingly insisted while scanning her body up and down with an intensity she had never before witnessed.
So…you like….junk in the trunk?” whispered Valencia Contreras Balderas Calderas De Jesús.
The Brown Knight smiled and offered “Valencia bae boo, who doesn’t like a curvy badonkadonk?
How the hell did you even know my name?!” she asked.
You still are wearing your name tag from Victoria’s Secret,” he responded.
Sure enough, she looked at her pendulous bosom and noticed that she forgot to change after finishing her work shift. She recognized that he had the keen vision of an eagle to be able to decipher the word “Valencia” from her entire full name which had been squeezed onto the tag using small font. 
May I also interest you in a complimentary sample of my special slurpee?” asked the Indian folk hero.
Slurp….slurpee?” she groaned.
Yes, sweet thangy-thang,” said the Brown Knight as he guided her to the slurpee machine. He placed a cup below the spout and grunted while pulling down the lever with authority. She could barely contain herself as she stared at the luscious creamy substance flowing smoothly into the receptacle.
Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram suggestively inserted a long straw into the vessel, whispered “Open your mouth” to the moaning woman, and pushed the tip in between her supple lips.
Valencia Contreras Balderas Calderas De Jesús, taken aback by his assertiveness, revealed her innocence by asking “What do I do now? Suck?
The Brown Knight grinned and replied “Yes, Valencia bae. Suck and it will come.”
She did his bidding as she clutched the paper cup. The savory slurpee oozed into her mouth and ignited her taste buds. “Oh my God,” she breathlessly whispered. “What secret ingredients did you add to this divine love potion?
He snickered, and then revealed his secret. “Garam masala, red chili powder, various other Indian spices, and most important, coconut oil, one of the world’s most potent natural aphrodisiacs.”
While she continued to sip his love juice, her eyes were drawn to the engorged, glistening hot dog wiener which hypnotically rotated in the glass warming case near where they stood.
hot dog
She instinctively clenched her fist in a vain attempt to stifle her wandering mind, thereby crushing the slurpee cup and spraying the creamy substance all over her face and chest.
I noticed you’re parked at gas dispenser #4. Would you like me to come outside and pump…..for you?” he inquired.
Pump…yes….oh god yes…pump,” stammered the smitten Hispanic female in heat.
gas pump
The Brown Knight then receded to his work area behind the checkout counter to process the transaction. His attention interrupted her glare towards the extra-large sized contraceptives hanging on the counter rack. She couldn’t help but notice that the condoms had been imported from India and were lubricated with coconut oil “for her pleasure.”
Those won’t be necessary,” suggestively whispered Valencia Contreras Balderas Calderas De Jesús, to which the Brown Knight offered a knowing wink. 
Her body began to swell in anticipation of pleasures of the flesh with this Indian sex symbol. Her fantasy of Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram commanding her with the phrase “Say my name” in her bedroom was interrupted by a sudden rush of fear since she couldn’t properly pronounce it…
Straight outta India
Scroll down to read all 42 prior excerpts (excerpt #42 was my best received piece among the literary community!).
Also, if you’re impressed with my ability to write Latin women, this is the 5th excerpt involving a Latina vixen! Check out these 4 other Hispanic hotties who caught the brown fever:
To learn more about the world famous author of, Dr. Pablo Pablo Pistol [@drpablopistola on Twitter], click on the following link:
Dr Pablo Pistola
Scroll down to enjoy all 42 archived excerpts below!


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#SexyTime Friday is back! Enjoy the new excerpt (#42) below and all previous 41 excerpts as you scroll below. And please, PLEASE, at least for my sake, please use coconut oil in moderation…

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WWW.51SHADESOFBROWN.COM has become an international phenomenon! I’m so proud to have 10 views in war-torn Iraq, and I now have a fan in Zambia!

51SOBcoconut loveIndian machismo

Please don’t forget to tell EVERYONE you know about WWW.51SHADESOFBROWN.COM (the website is super easy to remember!), your go-to site for Indian romance satire! Share the website by word of mouth (want to be life of the party?; then mention our site), email, text, Twitter, Facebook, Linked In, MySpace, and even by carrier pigeon!

And without further ado, here is the latest HOT HOT HOT excerpt:

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #42 [Chapter 169]

Mary Smith couldn’t believe her misfortune! Her brand new laptop computer wouldn’t connect to her expensive printer, and of course her career-defining presentation was scheduled for the very next day.

Of course!

She had spent hours, clad in her most sleek negligee lingerie, leafing through the device manuals and troubleshooting as best she could. 

negligee lingerielaptop manual

But every time, the same damn error frame kept popping up on her computer screen.

error frame

Mary Smith had reached dire straits, alone in a cold, harsh world of ones and zeroes.


It’s always darkest before dawn,” she muttered to herself as a reminder to not give up hope.

With trembling fingers, she dialed the phone number of the computer company’s help line, her despair growing deeper with each ring.

dialing phone




At that moment, she feared what she might be capable of doing: ending it all so that the pain would stop. 

Goodbye, cruel wor–” exclaimed the unhinged damsel in distress.

But just as she was about to hang up the telephone and succumb to her hopelessness, a tender voice from the computer help center said “Hi, my name is Peter. Thank you for your purchase and becoming a member of our family. How may I be of service to you?

Mary Smith’s racing heart immediately calmed down, like a bucking mustang being tamed by a horse whisperer. Never before had she heard a voice so warm, so comforting, so thick with an Indian accent.

indian phone

Mary Smith remained silent, thunderstruck by his je ne sais quoi. His breathtaking essence stunned her. 

How may I help you today, Ms Smith?” repeated the technical support employee.

She thought to herself “How the hell did he know I’m single and lonely?! He used ‘Ms’ instead of ‘Mrs’ to address me!

She finally mustered the courage to whimper “My printer isn’t working with my laptop. But…before we troubleshoot…Please, please tell me your real name.”

Peter’s discomfort was palpable, probably since the conversation was being recorded for quality assurance and training purposes, and because she was asking him to break script to have a moment of vulnerability.

Madam, my name is not of consequence to your compu—” he offered.

I just have to know the name of my guardian angel.” she responded.

Well….My name is….Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram,” he whispered.

What a magnificent, divine Indian name!

And…where are you?” Mary inquired.

Madam, currently I’m located in downtown Bangalore, the Silicon Valley of India” replied the Brown Knight.


Bang…galore….Bang….galore” repeated Mary. “And….what are you wearing right now?” moaned the desperate American woman. 

Kurtha pajama pants, and what you call a ‘wife beater’ on my torso. And my skin is glistening with coconut oil” answered her savior.

Kurta pantswife beater

Mary started to breathe more heavily, her own pointer finger gently tracing the contour of her inner thighs before saying “Please, for the love of God and All Things Holy, please tell me you have a thick, engorged, throbbing, bushy Indian mustache.

Indeed I do, Madam Smith. In fact, coconut oil is dribbling from my lustrous whiskers onto my supple lips.


Mmmmmmmmm” she audibly gasped. “Do you have any nicknames among the ladies?” probed the writhing Caucasian in a subtle effort to gauge his sexual experience.

Yes. The womenfolk often refer to me as ‘Hot Chocolate’ — but you know what goes well with hot chocolate?” asked the Brown Knight.

I’m not sure…What?” said the aroused lady.

White marshmallows…” said Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram.

hot chocolate and white marshmallows

Mary Smith immediately looked at her own snow-white skin, imagining the sensual contrast of his mocha-colored body pressing against her voluptuous pale curves. She loudly groaned, while each of their deep breaths began to synchronize in unison.

Ms Smith, I’m going to need your consent to remotely take over your computer.” uttered the India Institute of Technology trained computer specialist.

Yes! YES! YES!!! You can have control over me! I want you to take control!” exclaimed Mary Smith.

It will be my pleasure. Click ‘I accept’ on your screen now, and then I’ll relentlessly penetrate your computer over and over and over until you beg for me to stop” replied the Brown Knight, flaunting his absolute command over her computer and her body. 

After obediently clicking per his forceful instructions, she began to slowly stroke her mouse, tempted to exert her will on the cursor but instead choosing to lay limp and let him have his way with her computer.

Frames on her screen were masterfully opened and manipulated by this veritable maestro, her Brown Knight in shining armor. And just as Mary Smith was about to achieve a spectacular, long-awaited climax, the dazzling Indian suddenly said “Please hold for a moment.

In an instant, hold music began to play. The heavy bass and methodical electric guitar strums made it clear that the musical selection had been meticulously curated from a porn soundtrack, further heightening her state of tantric eroticism to unprecedented intensity. She found herself craving the gentle touch of a computer-savvy Indian software engineer. She imagined him in her apartment giving her technical guidance from behind with his arms tenderly wrapped around her quivering waistline and his pungent aroma of garam masala and various other Indian spices overwhelming her nostrils.

indian spices

Madam, are you still there?” said Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram. 

YES!” moaned Mary. “You better goddamn believe that I’m still here!

Miss Smith, it seems like you will need to accept permission for me to download my driver onto your computer. Please click ‘I accept’ if you’re willing to let me deposit something very fresh onto your hard drive.

Mary frantically clicked her approval.

Do you like to download drivers?” asked the Brown Knight. 

I’ll download the hell out of any driver you give to me” sighed the American. 

download progress

Madam Smith, do you know the difference between lust and love?

No…what’s the difference?” replied Mary.

Lust is like the temporarily satisfying crushed black pepper you white folks use to allegedly ‘spice’ up your bland meals. Love is like the permanent stain of Indian spices which allow your palate to experience unparalleled sensations. Once you go brown, you’ll never turn it down.” said the technical support hero. 

OHMYGOD! FILL ME WITH YOUR HOT CURRY!!!” yelled the undulating woman.

And in an instant, her printer awoke from its dormant state, rumbling like a volcano poised to erupt. Mary Smith quickly got on her knees in front of the printer and started to stroke the machine with both hands just as the device began to squirt out printed paper after printed paper from the cue on her computer. She screamed in ecstasy as the machine ejaculated documents into her lap, against her bosom, onto her face, and into her hair, smearing warm, moist printer ink all over her perspiring body.

Just as Mary Smith lit a post-orgasmic cigarette and puffed on it, the Brown Knight unexpectedly said “It appears that your problem has been resolved. Please take the time to respond to the satisfaction survey which will be emailed to you. And have a great evening.”

Horrified to hear the phone click on his end, Mary frantically navigated her mouse to open her inbox. “I would rather die in his arms than live just one more day without that software engineer” she thought to herself. After opening his email from the technical support center, her body swelled as she saw that Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram had invitingly inserted his Skype username ‘HotChocolate69‘ into the body of her email message.

With haste, Mary Smith then opened Skype on her laptop, eagerly anticipating a night of nonstop hot technical support…


Click on the following link to learn more about Dr. Pablo Pistola, the award-winning author:

Did you know that Dr. Pistola not only writes Indian romance satire here, but he also writes medical satire at Gomerblog? Click on the following link to read his medical satire:

Spread the word about WWW.51SHADESOFBROWN.COM, scroll down to enjoy the prior 41 excerpts, follow the author on Twitter (@drpablopistola), and click on “FOLLOW” all the way on the bottom of the screen for future updates!

Dr Pablo Pistola

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Did you think I forgot about my readers?! Ahh, HELLZ no!!! #SexyTime is back! Please spread the word about to everyone you know, including your psychotherapist! I really would like to know what your therapist thinks about my material. Thanks. And as always, please PLEASE use coconut oil in moderation!

Indian machismococonut love

My Indian romance satire has played a role in well over 14,000 pregnancies during this calendar year alone! Almost 1 pregnancy per view! Word about this site is spreading like wildfire!!!



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And now, on to the newest release! Enjoy…

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #41 [Chapter 158]

The energy in the atmosphere was palpable. She could feel it coming in the air tonight.

Hold on” she whispered to herself.

She’d been waiting for this moment for all her life.

Hold on…hold on” she quietly muttered.

It wasn’t just the electric crowd of spectators clapping in unison. It wasn’t just the pageantry of this world-famous competition. It wasn’t just the unfettered power she wielded as the Lead Judge for this contest.

There was something more that was making Shubasharadadipameghana all hot and bothered.

It was him.


His aura.

The annual tradition already had been a TV ratings juggernaut with a live international audience. But the media presence due to the Brown Knight’s involvement foretold an anticipated record-shattering viewership.

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram’s razor sharp intellect had gained global notoriety. Therefore, when the clamoring public insisted on his participation based on a loophole in the entry rules, the tidal wave of enthusiasm swept up the international man of mystery, who begrudgingly accepted the invitation to join the event.

So here he was on the stage, in flesh and blood, one of two finalists surviving the grueling gauntlet. Other contestants from earlier rounds had dropped like flies: some from mental missteps, but most from asphyxiation due to the Brown Knight’s pungent aroma of Indian curry which percolated throughout the entire auditorium.

indian spices

Never before had Shubasharadadipameghana ever considered perturbing the sanctity of these proceedings. Never before had Shubasharadadipameghana thought she would have the Machiavellian desire to manipulate results.

And hot dayummmmm, his rear end justifies my means.” whispered Shubasharadadipameghana under her breath.

Everything about her hero made her want to break all the rules on his behalf. Everything. His dazzling, bushy mustache. His glimmering hair and skin, nearly reflective due to his perfectly-applied sheen of coconut oil. His tight, form-fitting khaki pants which cradled and hugged his legendary hairy genitalia. His confidence.


Oh, his confidence! 

Shubasharadadipameghana wanted to be with him. She wanted to be the one to wear a sari and flimsy sandals while struggling to keep up with the Brown Knight, who would be clad in Western clothing and comfortable tennis shoes, on evening strolls. She wanted to be behind him by several paces on these fantasy walks, not just as an ostensible manifestation of subservience, but also to have the opportunity to stare at his thin, bony Indian buttocks.

Indian stroll

She wanted him to be his companion at Indian dinner parties, where the women could huddle and gossip in the kitchen while preparing 532-step Indian recipes and simultaneously caring for hyperactive children; meanwhile, the men could be segregated in the secluded, quiet living room, while sipping whiskey and discussing business, politics and sports.

Indian auntiesIndian uncles 2

Shubasharadadipameghana wanted all these luxuries so badly. But now she had to interrupt her steamy fantasies and focus on the task at hand.

The executive producer for the television broadcast signaled with finger gestures to the panel of judges the countdown to resuming live coverage after stoppage for a commercial break.


Greetings and salutations to all! Welcome back to the Scripps National Spelling Bee! We have reached the final round, with only two contestants remaining. Vivek Bhavesh Malipatil-Patel from Alpharetta, Georgia!


The audience offered respectful but muted golf-clapping to recognize the nerdy little prepubescent Indian geek.

And all the way from India, the incomparable Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram!

The spectators erupted with thunderous applause, causing the television cameras, the judges’ table, and Shubasharadadipameghana’s ovaries to vibrate.

It was go-time.

Let’s get right to down to crowning our champion. Vivek, your first word is ‘appoggiatura.’

The profusely-sweating Vivek Bhavesh Malipatil-Patel squirmed for a moment and ran his fingers through his sparse peach fuzz mustache before finally offering the correct spelling. The dismayed audience groaned to express its collective disappointment.

Ridding myself of this little nerd might be more of a challenge than expected” thought Shubasharadadipameghana.

Now Mr. Brown Knight, your word is ‘lubricant’” she said.

Please, Madam Shubasharadadipameghana  use that word in a sentence” said the heartthrob with mocha-colored skin.

She blushed while responding: “Coconut oil is not only the world’s most potent aphrodisiac, but it is also a divine lubricant which can offer untold pleasures.


The Brown Knight smirked, massaged his oily throbbing mustache, and then answered “L-U-B-R-I-C-A-N-T.

Enthusiastic cheers reverberated throughout the hall and enveloped her quivering body.

Shubasharadadipameghana suppressed her burgeoning lust and carried on. “Vivek Bhavesh Malipatil-Patel, your word is suh-LAUD.

The perspiring dweeb began to fidget like a beached fish out of the water. “Um….uhhhh. Ummmmm” stammered the virgin boy. “Could you please use that word in a sentence?

She coldly replied “I like suh-LAUD.

The emasculated contestant burst into tears knowing that his fate had been sealed. He began to teeter to and fro with widening eyes, before violently collapsing on the stage in front of the jubilant auditorium.

spelling bee faint

His time expired, and without a modicum of sympathy, she uttered “Your time is up. The correct spelling for suh-LAUD is S-A-L-A-D. Now, Mr. Brown Knight, you can win this contest by spelling one of the most complicated words on the planet: Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram.

The audience gasped at the sheer complexity of the word, yet the Brown Knight stood tall, unfazed by the whirlwind. “Madam Shubasharadadipameghana, could you please use that word in a sentence?

Shubasharadadipameghana moaned “I want Shree-Shay-Shaw-Thuh-Ree-Pruh-Thee-Váh-Thee-Bye-Yun-Kuh-Rum to dominate my writhing body, just like Indians dominate the hell out of spelling bee competitions.”

And then the man stepped right up to microphone. And he said at last just as the time bell rang “S-R-I-S-H-E-S-H-A-D-A-R-I-P-R-A-T-I-V-A-D-I-B-A-Y-A-N-K-A-R-A-M.

The world rejoiced in unbridled bliss, as Shubasharadadipameghana realized that the Brown Knight had not only won the competition, but also won the key to her bronze chastity belt which had been welded to her groin during her teenage years by her overprotective Indian father…


You can follow Dr. Pablo Pistola on Twitter (@drpablopistola) and read about him by clicking the following link:

Don’t forget to “FOLLOW” all the way on the bottom of this page. Scroll down to enjoy the 40 previously released excerpts!

Dr Pablo Pistola

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#SexyTime Friday is back. But for a while, my posts will be more sporadic so that I can spend more time perfecting the art of romance. But don’t you worry, sweet thangs. I always will use coconut oil in moderation. You have my word.


There’s always the temptation to use more coconut oil. But always use it in moderation. Always.

coconut lovegold

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Thanks to readers like you, this site’s following continues to grow! Click on “FOLLOW” at the very bottom, and also follow the author on Twitter (@drpablopistola) to be notified about any future excerpt releases!

Now, on to the latest excerpt…

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #40 [Chapter 154] 

Anuprabhaanumeghaanupamaanulataanuradha for a brief moment felt liberated. She began to experience the sensation of flying due the height of her position and the brisk wind whipping her lustrous hair to and fro.

However, the trance from her momentary fantasy of weightlessness was disrupted by the flashing lights from the fire trucks and ambulances far below her.


In an instant, her heart sunk back into the depths of despair as her profound hopelessness and plight came rushing back.

Anuprabhaanumeghaanupamaanulataanuradha thought she had no other choice. Taking her own life by jumping off the 51st floor ledge of this Chennai skyscraper seemed like the only way that she could take control of her situation, the only way to offer her respite from the stressors that had brought her such anguish.

She could no longer bear to face the world out of sheer embarrassment by her inability to prepare round rotis for her engineering husband. Oh, the shame of making rectangular, and alas sometimes even octagonal, rotis!


She could no longer face her cold mother-in-law after being caught red-handed by her spouse while taking a shortcut that trimmed two steps out of the usual 97 step Indian recipe. Oh, the humiliation of people knowing that she used instant tamarind powder, instead of soaking fresh tamarind, for her rasam recipe!


She could no longer live another day with her womb laying fallow, never penetrated, much less caressed or even touched, her horniness growing day by day, month by month, and year by year. Oh, the indignity of remaining a virgin despite 7 long years of marriage to an Indian engineer, who felt more compelled to use every spare minute to watch cricket test matches on television instead of undressing a woman in such obvious heat!

cricket 3

Anuprabhaanumeghaanupamaanulataanuradha just wanted to let go of the rope. The time to end it all was now.

But as she mustered the courage to see this through and began to lean forward, her eyes suddenly fixed on a spotlight on top of the nearby police headquarters which had just been activated. The powerful light beam cut through the muggy air and illuminated the sky above, searing an image of a circle with a large mustache in the middle.

The Brown Knight Light had been turned on.

Enter Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram. A hero rises.

Within a few moments, a Brown Maruti sedan screeched to a stop onto the expressway directly below her.


The Brownmobile!

Her heart began to race even faster. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram exited the vehicle wearing an embroidered sherwani outfit, and briskly walked by the police commissioner, who handed the international man of mystery a brown megaphone.

sherwanibrown megaphone

My goodness, to be in his presence was an honour never before bestowed upon her! And even from this great distance, she could see his huge, bushy signature mustache, shimmering in the moonlight from the coat of coconut oil which had been applied to his whiskers. It was so…huge. Were her eyes playing tricks on her, or did his large mustache appear to be throbbing?! His aura soothed her emotions. His scent of curry began to rise up to her level, causing her to become ravenously hungry, not just for Indian food, but also for love.

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram turned on the megaphone, and at the very same time, turned on Anuprabhaanumeghaanupamaanulataanuradha.

Hello?! Hello – hello—hello—hello?!!” said the Brown Knight.

NAMASTE!” she yelled from high above.

The hero continued “Listen, bae, you don’t have to go through with this. You are beautiful ornate tapestry, one which deserved to be displayed all of mankind.”


His amplified voice projected his response via the megaphone “Do you know what ‘bae’ stands for? It stands for ‘before anyone else’ – and this is how I feel about you. I care about your well-being above anyone else on earth. You are precious. I would love to apply coconut oil to every square inch of your body to relax each of your supple body’s muscle fibers.”


She thought for a moment and began to consider that his statements were just too good to be true. How often would a guy like him want to get it in with a girl like her? She couldn’t take it anymore. She began to lunge forward before hearing the masculine voice continue “BAE, DON’T DO IT! IF YOU CLIMB BACK IN THAT WINDOW NEXT TO YOU, YOU CAN HAVE MY BODY TONIGHT!

Her jaw dropped at this indecent proposal. In an instant, she reentered the building, raced to the elevator, went straight down into the lobby, and emerged at the street level to run into the open arms of the Brown Knight. The gathered throngs of onlookers erupted in unbridled bliss at the spectacle.

Together, while they walked hand-in-hand towards the Brownmobile, the Brown Knight relayed the brown megaphone back to the police commissioner.

As Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram valiantly opened the car door for Anuprabhaanumeghaanupamaanulataanuradha, the police commissioner nodded, turned towards the local sheriff standing next to him and said “Tonight, Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram’s brown penis has saved yet another life. God bless that man.”

The sheriff replied “True, but maybe she did all this just to get a chance to become impregnated by his golden sperm. You never know. Why does a great man like that keep putting up with the neverending demands of all these women?

The commissioner paused, and then ominously offered “Because he’s the hero India deserves, but not the one it needs whenever this nation’s females have post-coital morning glow after proper satisfaction. So the sexually-deprived women will hunt him, because he can take it. Because he’s not our hero. He’s a silent guardian. A watchful protector. The Brown Knight.”

At that moment, the Brownmobile’s tires screeched across the asphalt on the road, blasting the lustful couple towards the nearest hotel where, at last, Anuprabhaanumeghaanupamaanulataanuradha could engage in pleasures of the flesh…


Dr Pablo Pistola

Scroll down to read all 39 prior excerpts! You can read about Dr. Pablo Pistola [the award-winning author of] by clicking on the following link:

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A lot of fans have been asking why I still keep churning out Indian romance satire excerpts. It’s because I Iove you. It’s because I’m a great guy. And admit it: you’re hooked. Enjoy my latest release. And as always, please use coconut oil in moderation.


Great news! Add Oxford, Cambridge, Harvard, Yale, Princeton & Stanford to the growing list of universities that have added my writing at to the curriculum this upcoming falls semester! Critics are calling work a “literary treasure which will be puzzled over for generations to come”


Did you know that Dr. Pablo Pistola [the author] also writes medical satire as a contributing author at Gomerblog?! Click on the following link to read his collection of healthcare-related comedy:


Click on “FOLLOW” all the way at the bottom of this screen, follow Dr. Pablo Pistola on Twitter (@drpablopistola), and spread the word about the Indian romance satire at via Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, and Tinder. Just do it.

Now, on to the latest excerpt…

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #39 [Chapter 151]

It was go-time.

The lights in the room dimmed, plunging the scene into darkness. A voice bellowed the ominous notification “We are live in 5…4…3…2…1…

Suddenly a spotlight bathed her in blinding illumination, and the roaring applause from the live studio audience reached a feverish crescendo.

She offered the cameras a beaming smile and launched into her customary introduction: “It’s Friday night, and the mood is right! I’m Aashrithaaashiyaniaashalata, and I’m the host of ‘Love Guru’ – the chance for you to have your sexy-time questions answered by the one and only Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram!!!

Another spotlight turned on to reveal the Brown Knight seated in an adjacent chair. The female crowd erupted in a frenzy reminiscent of the fervor of teenage Beatles fans in the 1960s.

The buzz engulfing this internationally broadcasted live event would have rattled many people within the entertainment industry. But Aashrithaaashiyaniaashalata was a seasoned veteran. She had hosted so many television programs on Zee TV before, including an American Idol-style singing competition, an American Idol-style dancing competition, and an American Idol-style singing and dancing competition.

She had done it all.

However, she was coming to terms that she had not yet done the Brown Knight. She had tried to suppress embarrassment about her obvious crush on the world-famous Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram. After all, who didn’t want a piece of this divine Indian man?!

Despite her best efforts to hide her lust, a simple grin from under his thick, bushy signature mustache right before the cameras turned on melted her heart and moistened her body. She knew she needed him tonight. But she shook off her carnal desires, like a professional woman, and carried on with her task at hand.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, let’s get right to your calls!” She tightened her unyielding sensual grip on her microphone and continued “Our first caller is Anchalaavniangoorianaamika! You are on with the Love Guru! Please, what is on your mind?

The overhead speaker system in the studio activated with a brief unexpected screech from feedback. Then silence.

Anchalaavniangoorianaamika you are on the air! Your question?” repeated Aashrithaaashiyaniaashalata.

Suddenly a confused, panicked voice with a thick Indian accent blasted from the speakers “Hello? Hello? HELLO?!

Yes, your question for the Brown Knight?

caller 1

Uhh….yes, Mr. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram, I have been experiencing…dryness. It causes me such profound anxiety, I don’t know what to do. HELLO?! HELLO?! I was wondering how you would suggest I solve this matter? HELLO?! Please help. You’re my only hope. HELLO?!

The Brown Knight nodded in response to the query and offered “Coconut oil. Keep calm and apply coconut oil.”

The women in the audience enthusiastically clapped in response to his brilliant solution.

Aashrithaaashiyaniaashalata moved on. “Nilanjananividethjagadheeswarirehanapreeti! You are on the air with the Love Guru. What is your sexy time question?

The next caller timidly replied “Um, yes. Hello. My computer engineer husband never seems to be interested in unwrapping my sari. My ovaries are rumbling, and my childbearing years are rapidly passing by. How would you suggest that I get him to notice me more?

An intense expression became plastered across Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram’s face. He leaned forward with confidence and said “Nilanjananividethajagadheeswarirehanapreeti, are you anywhere near a coconut oil jar right now?

Actually, yes, there’s one on the shelf right next to me.”

Here’s what I want you to do. And do exactly what I say. Open the jar right now. Dip your pointer and middle fingers of your non-dominant hand into it. Feel your fingers glide into it. Then pull your fingers out. Then plunge them back in. Keep guiding your fingers in and out, in and out, in and out. Over and over and over.


The riveted audience remained enraptured by this genius sex symbol, as the caller’s heavy breathing and subtle moans were audible for all to vicariously experience.

The Brown Knight continued “Are you doing what I’m telling you to do?

Yes” groaned Nilanjananividethjagadheeswarirehanapreeti.

How does it feel?

It feels……so…so  good.”

I know it does, Nilanjananividethajagadheeswarirehanapreeti. I know. Now I want you to insert your ring finger as well.”

Thr….Three fingers?! I – I – I’m not sure I can fit in three fingers.

You have to let yourself go and trust me, sweet thang.”

Okay…I’m trying three fingers. They’re — OHMYGOD!……They’re gliding right in…..” Said Nilanjananividethajagadheeswarirehanapreeti, as her voice trailed off to heavy panting.

The Brown Knight knowingly smiled, and continued “Now pull out your fingers and apply copious amounts of coconut oil to every inch of your body.”

Every—- Everywhere?

Everywhere…I want you to apply it to your face, to your neck, to that little exposed area on your flank below your sari blouse, even to your hair…”

Okay, I’m doing it. It…It feels so good. My whole body feels so lubricated.”

Now, Nilanjananividethajagadheeswarirehanapreeti, take your husband’s work notes and leave a trail of papers with computer coding on the floor leading to your bed. Lay down on the bed in a seductive position, and your engineer husband will be there on you in no time at all.”

computer codeaunty-ji

The crowd of spectators cheered loudly in appreciation of the Brown Knight sharing his sage advice with the world.

Meanwhile, Aashrithaaashiyaniaashalata sat next to her guest star speechless. She simply could not fathom his boundless knowledge. She wanted him so badly. She was so tantalizingly close to him, within sniffing range of his aroma of curry, but felt like she was so far away because she couldn’t reach out and caress his mocha-colored skin which had been perfectly coated with coconut oil. She had reached her breaking point. She needed to know right now if he would reciprocate her tender affection. She needed to take control of the situation at this very moment, live international audience be damned!

Aashrithaaashiyaniaashalata stammered for a moment and then suddenly improvised, ignoring her executive producer who, via her radio earpiece, was urging her to move on to the next caller. “Um….Well… We have an unusual request for you…. We…We have our next question sent via text message!

The audience gasped at this deviation from the usual program protocol, but she casually pulled out her own mobile phone and feigned reading a question on the screen, “The next question is from an anonymous fan of yours. She asks ‘Mr. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram, I am the host of an internationally televised program, and I have never felt the tender touch of a man before in my life. I want you to be my first. I want you to teach me everything. I’m willing to give you my innocence if you are willing to have your way with me. What should I do to know if you are interested in my sultry proposal?’”

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram revealed a devilish grin under his lustrous mustache and replied “I would suggest that you should meet me in my dressing room backstage so that I can show you the time of your life.”

Aashrithaaashiyaniaashalata immediately threw down her microphone and sprinted off stage with the intensity of somebody who was barely suppressing explosive diarrhea, all in front of the stunned viewership.

The Brown Knight, still smirking, stood up and began to unhook the microphone affixed to his neck tie, but then paused, turned towards the cameras and crowd, and whispered “Why don’t I just leave this microphone on so that you all can hear how it’s done.” He left the live microphone in place, and then methodically walked off stage towards his private dressing room, where the moaning Aashrithaaashiyaniaashalata awaited her savior.

The in-studio crowd erupted in unbridled bliss, offering the Brown Knight a thunderous standing ovation befitting of his immense, yet still growing, legend…

Dr Pablo Pistola

Scroll down to read all 38 archived excerpts! Spread the word, and read about the author [@drpablopistola] by clicking on the following link:

I would like to take this opportunity to thank my dear family member who inspired this particular excerpt. He not only his a heartthrob, but he’s also a smart lad, having just wrapped up his freshman year at the University of Maryland with flying colors. We’re proud of him, but we’re most proud of his contributions to! And ladies: he’s single, and wildly-available!

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The excerpt I released last week was controversial because it was set in a strip club. I wonder how the public will respond to this week’s offering. We’re about to find out. #SexyTime Friday is back again. And as always, please use coconut oil in moderation.

coconut love

Did you know that coconut oil is a potent aphrodisiac?

gold swag

Don’t hate the player. Hate the coconut oil.


Spread the word about to everyone you have ever met!

On to the story…

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #38 [Chapter 149] 

Sharadhashivakarisubhashini could no longer contain her excitement.

She had loved every minute of her college experience so far. The freedom to schedule her classes. The opportunity to order pizza instead of eating leftover rotis. The possibility of tasting her first alcohol. The ability to stare at, and even touch, college boys. The chance to experiment. Try new things. Explore. Become a woman.

Her campus offered her so much.


Thus far in her life, she had been shielded from the temptation of nibbling on forbidden fruits by her strict Indian parents, whose singular obsession was maintaining her appearances as a “good little Indian girl” among the local Desi community in her hometown.

Bad girl

All of her new university classmates laughed in awe at her profound lack of even the most basic pop culture knowledge. Not only did she not know about the armpit hair on Miley Cyrus; she didn’t even know who the hell Miley Cyrus was.

Cyrus armpitMLK

To a neutral observer, this reflected the crowning achievement of her parents’ 18 year crusade to make sure she focused on her studies and Bharatanatyam dance lessons.


However, to Sharadhashivakarisubhashini, this felt more like a tyrannical campaign to stifle her blossoming sexuality.

But now, she on the prowl for a hot hunk of meat, and there wasn’t a damn thing her Indian parents could do to stop her.

Sharadhashivakarisubhashini and her roommate, Jenn, had ventured into a campus frat house for the first “Greek Mixer” of the year. This was an early chance for the frat members to check out the newbies rushing for sororities. This would be a veritable meat market.

The SAE Fraternity house North of the UofW campus at 17th Ave, NE and NE 45th.

When she entered the house, she gasped out of shock. She had never before witnessed such a homogenous concentration of Caucasians in one location!

The chaotic scene overwhelmed her senses. Most of the male students were already sloshed beyond comprehension. Each frat brother maintained a perfect hair part, befitting of money-hungry oil industry executives.

All of them wore khaki shorts, a tucked in collared Polo shirt, and a blazer jacket with sewed-on elbow pads.

polo khakiblazer

Many gathered around a keg to chug watered-down tasteless domestic beer, slap each other’s asses in a homoerotic fashion, while only referring to each other by last name or by the term “bruh.”

kegkeg stand

Other frat brothers focused on their intense game of beer pong while yelling homophobic insults at each other while in various states of undress.

beer pongfrat

A few more frat boys gathered around a foosball table, presumably to play table soccer, but possibly to pin down yet another female victim.


Two super religious frat brothers knelt in the corner while praying and sipping beer. Dave Matthews Band’s greatest hits blasted from the stereo system, filling the chamber with echoes of his underwhelming lyrics yelled in his garbled, annoying voice.


Jenn turned to Sharadhashivakarisubhashini and exclaimed “OMG! This party is, like, so effing cray-cray!!!

It certainly was cray-cray. No doubt.

But Sharadhashivakarisubhashini somehow felt out of place for some reason. Her name barely fit on her adhesive nametag. Her skin tone was…darker than the rest. She suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment and began to think of her mother, a powerful Aunty-Ji pillar in her community.


She heard her mother’s voice say “Chi, chi, chi! Beta, what in the bloody hell are you doing here?! This the perfect opportunity for you to review your physics problems right now! Go back to your dorm at once! You know damn right you should not be thinking about experiencing pleasures of the flesh! Focus on your studies! Focus on your studies! Focus on your studies…

Whatevs” thought Sharadhashivakarisubhashini. This was her time. She controlled her own destiny. And what she wanted was a man to show her the way…

At that moment, her gaze fixed on a mocha-colored figure that stood out as a man amongst boys. Unlike the other social Neanderthals, this gentleman, clad in a neatly-pressed 3 piece Italian designer suit, sipped a glass of cognac while surveying the debauchery in the frat house.

Enter Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram. A hero rises.

Both Sharadhashivakarisubhashini and Jenn stared in ecstasy at this Indian specimen who stuck out like a throbbing sore thumb. He was the only male in the room brave enough to flaunt a massive, bushy, lustrous mustache, which shimmered from coconut oil lubrication. His was the largest mustache she had ever seen. She fantasized about probing her fingers into his mustache and using the oil in his whiskers to cook a midnight snack on her roti pan in the dorm kitchen. God, she wanted to feel that coconut oil. She wanted his coconut oil on her. Everywhere.


Jenn leaned in towards Sharadhashivakarisubhashini and discretely uttered “OMG! That guy totes is a IILF!

A IILF?!” responded Sharadhashivakarisubhashini.

Yeah, like, you’ve heard of MILF, right? Like, replace the M with an ‘I’ for ‘Indian’ and that’s, like, IILF!” replied Jenn, astonished that her roommate didn’t know about this common colloquialism.

And goddamn, was she right. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram was totally a IILF in her mind.

Sharadhashivakarisubhashini began to profusely perspire when she realized that her presence had caught the attention of the Brown Knight. She started to fan herself with her term paper while this international man of mystery approached her. Upon his arrival by her side, the waves of air carried his scent of Indian spices and testosterone.

Somehow, he managed to sense her discomfort with the sociocultural segregation imposed by the college Greek system. He soothed her by saying “You don’t have to forsake your identity and assimilate into this depraved Greek system of conformity. Be your own woman.

Sharadhashivakarisubhashini felt so at ease, and mustered up the courage to talk back to this Indian supernova celebrity. She remarked “I’m not a girl…not yet a woman…”

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram flashed a devlish smile and whispered “Bae, let’s blow this joint and watch some streaming Bollywood movies on Netflix at your dorm.”

Sharadhashivakarisubhashini seductively winked at her roommate Jenn and softly said “Join us…”

The Brown Knight then walked out the frat house door flanked by the two curious females who on the cusp of maturing into women that very night, while beginning to massage coconut oil oozing from the pores on his hands into the upper arms of the two ladies he now embraced.

As the threesome exited the frat house, the fraternity president [known only as “Peterman”] analyzed the situation by yelling “Bruhhhhhhhhhhhh…”


Scroll down to read all 37 prior excerpts, and click on FOLLOW at the very bottom of this page! You can read about Dr. Pablo Pistola, the award-winning author of 51 Shades of Brown, by clicking on the following link:

Dr Pablo Pistola

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Well it’s #SexyTime Friday once again, and if you love Indian men and strip clubs, you’re gonna enjoy the hell out of my latest excerpt. Spread the word, and spread coconut oil all over your body. Just do it. And as always, please, GODDAMMIT PLEASE, use coconut oil in moderation!


Please spread the word about, your GO-TO site for Indian romance satire! Tell your great-grandmother about our website, click on “FOLLOW” at the very bottom of the page, and follow Dr. Pablo Pistola, the award-winning author, on Twitter [@drpablopistola]!!!

GomerblogDr Pablo Pistola

Did you know that Dr. Pistola also writes medical satire at!!! Click on the following link to read his medical satire pieces [9 so far], including his famous report about Cookie Monster suffering from diabetic complications:

Cookie Monster

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #37 [Chapter 146]

This private moment promised to be different. She felt a glimmer of hope that she would ultimately experience genuine fulfillment for the first time in what seemed like years. Amid the hedonistic debauchery and pretentious excess plaguing the world famous Las Vegas casino hotel strip, the companionship which she had earned made this isolated “Champagne Room” within the strip club seemed like the calm eye of a hurricane.

PARIS, FRANCE:  Undated picture shows the backroom of the Pink Paradise striptease club, located in Ponthieu street in Paris. This erotic-chic cabaret designed by Imaad Rahmouni popularizes the new trend of

Lafonda Aaliyah Trinity Destiny Ebony Tamika Lakisha Nakisha Smith and Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaraon sat on a velvet sofa in this VIP section staring into each other’s eyes and offering one another crooked smiles. This should have felt awkward.

But it didn’t. Not one bit.


Sure, they could feel the reverberations of the bass from music blasting on the other side of the wall in the main stage area.

strip club main stage

Yet the room felt silent. All they needed was their unique intimacy.

She had walked with him to this quiet recess expecting there to be a sultry lap dance, and perhaps even more. But his desire to just…talk…was so refreshing.

Almost as refreshing as his aroma of curry and coconut oil which drowned out the stench of cigarettes, spilled alcohol, and broken dreams which had been marinating in this chamber for years.

Lafonda Aaliyah Trinity Destiny Ebony Tamika Lakisha Nakisha Smith thanked her lucky stars that, coincidentally, none of the other strippers had brought their clients to this reclusive area at the same time.

They were in their own world.

You don’t have to do this anymore, Lafonda Aaliyah Trinity Destiny Ebony Tamika Lakisha Nakisha” whispered Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram. “You should expect more from yourself. You are a delicate rose bud that only requires nurturing and support in order to blossom into a stunning, radiant flower.”

His way with words made her heart melt.

Moreover, his infinite wisdom rang true. Las Vegas had the capacity to chew up and spit out anyone who dared to consider conquering the desert metropolis.

Las Vegas

As the saying goes, the house always wins.

She had come to Las Vegas hoping to escape the realities of her life, but these maneuvers thinly-veiled the truth that her life had hit rock bottom.

Lafonda Aaliyah Trinity Destiny Ebony Tamika Lakisha Nakisha Smith thought about the sacrifices of Martin Luther King, Jr. It crystallized in her mind that the struggle is real. So real. The election of President Barack Obama made her realize just how far her people had come, but her current state of affairs forced her to consider that she was disappointing her forefathers.


This Indian man had rocked her to the core. His reassuring tone of voice made her reevaluate her station in life. She could do so much better. She did have potential. She didn’t have to lower her standards and remain in this shady exotic dance club.

Her train of thought was interrupted when she noticed a glistening bead of coconut oil dripping from his glorious thick black mustache and dribbling down to his upper lip, subsequently nestling below a fragment of garlic from his chicken curry lunch. 


Lafonda Aaliyah Trinity Destiny Ebony Tamika Lakisha Nakisha Smith giggled, extended her finger toward his lip to dab the greasy droplet, and then seductively transferred the finger into her own moist mouth.

The flavor of garlic and masala overwhelmed her.

Lafonda Aaliyah Trinity Destiny Ebony Tamika Lakisha Nakisha Smith began to breathe more heavily and audibly groan. She had met many Indian men before. Most were socially-awkward, sexually-repressed engineers who could only have vibrant discussions about computer software innovations. She had never met an Indian man like this until now.

You must be hungry. Here…” offered Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram, sensing that his Indian spices had stimulated her palate. He reached down and presented a Ziploc sandwich bag filled with pakoras which he had prepared earlier on his lunch break. She pried open the plastic bag, pulled out one of the fried vegetable morsels, placed it on her tongue, and chewed the oily appetizer.


She started to uncontrollably moan as her body grew limp, never having before experienced such a potent blend of savory spices.

She wanted him so fucking much. She could no longer control herself. Lafonda Aaliyah Trinity Destiny Ebony Tamika Lakisha Nakisha Smith had never felt so vibrant and liberated.

He wants to save me,” she thought to herself. And goddamn, she was going to let herself be saved by the Brown Knight.

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram offered a wry grin and said “I know our time is almost up, so why don’t we get down to the lap dance just for the hell of it?

Lafonda Aaliyah Trinity Destiny Ebony Tamika Lakisha Nakisha Smith enthusiastically nodded as the Brown Knight leaned forward and whispered “Say my name” to her.

She uttered “2Cheekz” as he stood up before her and spread her legs in order to allow him to assume his position as the male stripper ready to grind against her body. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram, whose stage name was 2Cheekz, ranked as the most high-end male exotic dancer on the planet, and she had paid well over $25,000 US dollars from her annual bonus just to have to opportunity to feel his hairy, oily body press against hers.

As he stood in front of her in his custom made speedo, with leopard pattern print on the front and a Miami Heat logo on the back, he gave a subtle nod to the Champagne Room bouncer who began to play the song “Pour Some Sugar On Me” by Def Leppard.

Indian leopardHeat speedo

While the musical selection started to rock the VIP section, Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram turned back and whispered to Lafonda Aaliyah Trinity Destiny Ebony Tamika Lakisha Nakisha Smith “Sugar and spice makes everything nice…


If you’re a fan of pakoras, take a trip down memory lane and read Excerpt #12, which still remains as Dr. Pablo Pistola’s finest work yet, by clicking on the following link:

And scroll down to read ALL 36 prior excerpts released on this site! Enjoy!

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So here we are, at yet another #SexyTime Friday. Enjoy my 36th offering of my award-winning Indian romance satire. Scroll down to read the continuing romance adventures of the #BrownKnight. But please, PLEASE use coconut oil in moderation.


Spread the word about to everyone that you know! Click on “FOLLOW” at the very bottom of this page and follow @drpablopistola for tweets about updates as well as his thoughts about basketball, politics, and #SexyTime.

views 13kviews at SexyTime

This site keeps hitting new milestones. As you can see, most people like to read excerpts at night time, smack-dab in the middle of #SexyTime!

Inspiring Young Brown Men

I’m so proud that my Indian romance satire helped instill confidence in so many young brown men. #BrownIs Beautiful

lil bbased gandhi

 Lil B (@LILBTHEBASEDGOD) cursed da #BrownKnight for cooking curry on da dance floor. But we got da Gandhi family to place a curse on Lil B! Thank you Based Gandhi!

 ray allen 2Ray Allen 1

YES!!! Ray Allen [2 time NBA champion] read my excerpts at and he now has #CoconutOilFever. See his feelings about coconut oil by clicking on the following link to see his Instagram video:

ray allen 3

Now we know Ray Allen’s secret weapon which allowed him to nail the greatest shot in basketball history #CoconutOil

Dr Oz The Quack

We all know Dr. Oz is a quack. But he got one thing right when he endorsed the powers of coconut oil for romance!

And now…time for the newest excerpt…

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #36 [Chapter 141] 


The gentle breeze should have had the usual soothing effect on her. Yet she found herself consumed by panic and fear.

This had been a getaway weekend she had long anticipated.

Shoshana Shifra Tirzah Kefira Yonina Yedida Abramowicz-Bergmannstein absolutely adored her hometown of Boca Raton, Florida, a veritable treasure on the Atlantic coast seaboard.

Boca Raton

Her childhood city offered unending luxuries including manicured lawns, pink buildings, demented retirees, posh shopping at Mizner Park, flamingos, and multiple synagogues located within a manageable walking distance. But every once in a while she liked to toss her curly hair and escape her strict Jewish upbringing by indulging herself with a hedonistic escape to Miami Beach, a lawless hellscape of drug kingpins, bath salt abusers, and corrupt FIFA officials.

miami beach

After all, all a conservative girl needs is a bit of anarchy to get the juices flowing!

This time she convinced her ultra-orthodox Jewish boyfriend to join her at the Ultra Music Festival despite the objections of both sets of parents. She wanted to have the time of her life, frolicking with glow sticks and losing herself in the techno music.  

ultraglow sticks

Instead, her boyfriend had erupted and menacingly chased her to the street near the event entrance.

Thoughts raced through her mind.

Why had he become so angry with me? What had I done?! Was he upset that I spent 5 dollars on a can of soda?! Was his mother miffed that I didn’t call her as often as she demanded?

Jewish mum

Did he hate my Hanukkah gift of a hand-carved antique wooden dreidel imported from Petah Tikva, Israel?


Did I piss him off when I teased him for choosing not to wear a Miami Heat yarmulke to the rave like all the other good Jewish guys had done?


Could this have been an unanticipated reaction after he had popped 4 pills of ecstasy for the very first time?!


Had he disapproved of my traditional Horah Jewish dance in the mosh pit during the house music performance?!



As he rapidly advanced to her position on the curb, Shoshana Shifra Tirzah Kefira Yonina Yedida Abramowicz-Bergmannstein frantically thumbed her phone’s Uber app and selected the closest transportation service vehicle.

uber app

In an instant, she heard the sound of screeching tires and a revved up engine as a Maruti sedan car pulled up by her.


With haste, she hopped into the taxi, slammed the door shut while pressing the door lock button, and shrieked “Just drive me the hell away from him! HURRY!

The vehicle sped away just as her rabid boyfriend started to claw at her window and foam at the mouth.

Suddenly it dawned on her. She was single yet again. Alone in this cold, dangerous world, without a chivalrous hero to protect her and valiantly defend her integrity.

She began to sob.

He shouldn’t treat you that way” offered the Uber driver. “You are a divine gem, and you deserve to be treated like a Jewish American Princess.

But….but….but… I don’t even understand why he flipped out” whimpered Shoshana Shifra Tirzah Kefira Yonina Yedida Abramowicz-Bergmannstein.

The Uber driver repositioned his rear view mirror to bring his piercing eyes and magnificent lustrous mustache into sudden view. “Just relax and think about what might have happened immediately before he became provoked…Recreate the events in your mind…Tell me everything about yourself, including how you like to make love.”

But…what’s your name?” she timidly inquired.

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram” he answered.

How should I pronounce your name?” asked Shoshana Shifra Tirzah Kefira Yonina Yedida Abramowicz-Bergmannstein, ostensibly flummoxed by the complexity of his Indian name.

It’s simple: Shree-Shay-Shaw-Thuh-Ree-Pruh-Thee-Váh-Thee-Bye-Yun-Kuh-Rum” he retorted, immediately easing her discomfort.

Of course! When you break down the Brown Knight’s name syllable by syllable, it’s super easy to say!

She had never felt so at ease with a complete stranger. There was something about his masculine voice with a thick Indian accent and the potent aroma of curry marinating in the car.

She started her life story of an initial country club lifestyle, followed by her teenage Jewish gang-related activity stage when she suffered the indignity of dodging bullets throughout the mean streets of Boca Raton while living on the wrong side to the tracks. Her lengthy autobiography ultimately culminated in her realization that, while she was at the Ultra Music Festival, she had decided to take a break by nibbling on some matzah and reading a book about how coconut oil is the key to women’s liberation due to the lubricant’s potent aphrodisiac properties.

Two square matzo crackers.

Two square matzo crackers.

Now that I think about it, my boyfriend has always been a staunch opponent of female empowerment. In fact, as soon as he saw what I was reading, he kicked the book out of my hands and started screaming at me.”

The tenor of her interaction with the Uber driver immediately changed. “He did what?!” he asked with the intensity of an agitated bull.

He…kicked the book” she repeated.

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram suddenly slammed on the brakes while masterfully completing a U-turn of the vehicle while maintaining his incredible speed. With purpose, he weaved through South Florida traffic, narrowly avoiding collisions with multiple senior citizens blindly driving large cars careening out of control as usual, and finally arrived back at the precise location he had picked up his damsel in distress.

As they approached the curbside, her seething and profusely perspiring ex-boyfriend still stood in the same spot while maniacally waving glow sticks around his body as though he were an airport traffic controller swinging his light signals.

Air traffic controller holding light signs at the airport

Air traffic controller holding light signs at the airport

The car screeched to a halt right in front of him, and Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram pushed  a button on the car’s control panel console to eject himself from his vehicle through his sunroof and precisely land on the sidewalk beside the villain.

The Brown Knight stared at his adversary and sneered “Never threaten the sanctity of mankind’s source of knowledge by allowing your foot to touch a book. Never.

In an instant, the Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram apprehended her ex-boyfriend, inflicted a deep wedgie upon him, and then delivered an embarrassing deep noogie.


Shoshana Shifra Tirzah Kefira Yonina Yedida Abramowicz-Bergmannstein couldn’t believe what she was witnessing from the backseat. The Brown Knight moved with agility of a pedestrian in New York City avoiding the minefield of dog excrement on sidewalks. She thought to herself “It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright…Sri moves in mysterious ways.”

After her belittled ex-boyfriend was left on the ground in the fetal position weeping in humiliation, her Indian hero returned to his driver’s seat and took control of not only the vehicle, but also her heart and womb. This Indian specimen with a shimmering, coconut oil-coated mustache was the sexiest man she had ever encountered.

She felt compelled to say something to continue this sensual conversation with her savior. “Your Maruti car….is…so sleek. I love it.”

The Brown Knight offered a wry smile through the rear view mirror and uttered “I call it my Brownmobile, bae.”

His way with words kindled her rampant desire for his touch. She began to moan and gently use her fingers to trace the contours of her inner thighs through her modest ankle-length skirt.

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram whispered to his passenger “Now…Where to, Ma’am?

I’ll go wherever you’re headed” responded Shoshana Shifra Tirzah Kefira Yonina Yedida Abramowicz-Bergmannstein, as the Brown Knight made the Brownmobile’s engine purr while the couple coasted toward a tropical horizon offering new beginnings…


Scroll down to read all 35 prior excerpts! Click on “FOLLOW” all the way at the bottom of this page. You can follow the author on Twitter (@drpablopistola) and read more about his twerking background by clicking on the following link:

Dr Pablo Pistola