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It’ Friday, so #SexyTime is back! Time for another HOT new excerpt! This offering will definitively prove (if for some bizarre reason you still had a shadow of a doubt) how much I understand the mind and body of a woman, and how impressively I can capture that essence and “write” a woman. I almost feel as though I am becoming The Brown Knight himself. As usual, please subscribe, comment, and come back on Fridays for new excerpts! AND PLEASE SPREAD THE WORD (The website is super easy to tell friends about: And as always, use coconut oil in moderation to avoid a sexiness overdose. Enjoy.

51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #13 [Chapter 61]

“Mr. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram will see you now.”

The words startled Rajnandhinirambharatnabali; she had finally been summoned to the master quarters by the plantation butler. With great trepidation, she followed the devoted servant down the labyrinth of dimly lit corridors, as the candelabra he extended high above his head led her through the bowels of the massive lair. She was directed into the cavernous master chamber foyer, when her eyes were instantly drawn to the unfinished paintings of nude intertwined bodies that the Brown Knight had been commissioned to procure for the updated “Kama Sutra Positions of Passion” color atlas manual. As she moved past the striking erotic artwork, Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram came into sudden view. He was wearing a majestic embroidered sherwani, and seated on a wicker bench on the balcony facing the interior towards her.


The music, which featured only a gentle tabla beat, projected from the transistor radio and served as a sensual soundtrack. The seasonal monsoon winds of Mysore rhythmically rocked the palm fronds behind the subcontinent’s hero and seemed to tenderly caress her body, as she stood in a frozen position less than 5 meters from him. The potent aromatic wisps of dark incense smoke appeared to dance around her and soothed her palpitations.


She was paralyzed by his unabated primal glare. The panic overwhelmed her. Thoughts raced through her mind.

Why would he call me to his residence?

How could someone so mysterious and famous take an interest in me?

Did I not choose a sufficiently seductive sari?

Is he perturbed that my sari blouse is visible?

Does he hate me?

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram continued to relentlessly stare at Rajnandhinirambharatnabali, as he massaged his oily mustache whiskers between his dominant pointer finger and thumb. He kept looking, as though he could see right through her clothes. After all, his legendary psychological prowess was well known to have no match.

Does he know about my past indiscretions?

Does he know about all my frailties?

Does he know how to manipulate them to his advantage?

She noticed that the cool evening air had erected goosebumps on his hand. A mosquito landed on his coconut-oil lubricated skin and sucked the sweet nectar of his thick viscous ruby blood, without evoking even a modicum of a flinch.


Had he forgotten to take his seizure medications?

Was this an epileptic prodrome?

Excruciating minutes of deafening hush passed. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram sat motionless and expressionless. In silence, he had unwavering command of her.

Was this a signal?

Does he want me?

Does he dream about me?

Does he want me to bear his children?

Does he want to spend the rest of his life with me?

Is he aroused?

Does he want me to disrobe?

She instinctively unwrapped her sari like the unfurling petals on a blossoming springtime flower, while the garment fell down to the floor around her feet. Yet Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram still did not move. But ever so slowly, the corners of his lips turned upward to morph into a devious carnal smile, as his gaze shifted from her body towards the tempting jar of extra virgin coconut oil that had been strategically positioned on the table that separated the two bodies…


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About the Author

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Dr Pablo Pistola had become increasingly dissatisfied with satisfaction-based forces in medicine. He felt like a doctor without a purpose. He subsequently embarked on a 7 year twerking quest in the Himalayan foothills to find his true calling. During this journey, he realized that he has a secret talent: his immense knowledge about women. He understands them. Legend has it that he can size up a woman’s soul in a mere instant. He didn’t ask for these powers. But with great powers come great responsibilities. So Dr Pablo Pistola (double-board certified in Love Medicine & Romance Medicine, with fellowship training in Seduction Medicine) has been dabbling in satirical erotic writing. And if satirical erotic writing can offer a viable exit strategy from medicine, then the world will be a better place. His responsibility is to bring the stories of lust to you. He also is an avid life-long Miami Heat fan. Dr Pistola’s medical satire contributions: Twitter: @drpablopistola


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