It’s said, mainly by politicians, that insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. But fuck it; I started my very first CBR with a Chuck Tingle book, so I am determined to start my 2nd CBR with a Chuck Tingle book. One time counts as age-old tradition, right? (This decision brought to you by Wine! – helping you make bad decisions since 8000 B.C.)
Dr. Tingle (no, really) is apparently known for 4 types of erotica: dinosaurs, unicorns, bigfeet and living objects. Considering I’ve had my fill of “living objects”, I thought I’d explore the dinosaur side of things. Just go ahead and say a “phrasing!” for this entire review. Done? Alright, let’s dive in.
Our tale begins with Jeremy watching the sun set over the New York skyline, reminiscing about his old pet triceratops, Oliver. Not fond memories, mind you, as Oliver was large, wilful, domineering, and independently wealthy as a result of “impeccably well-placed Super Bowl bets”. Oliver eventually left the nest to pursue his dream of becoming a dancer in an all-male cabaret. Kudos, Dr. Tingle. I really didn’t know how you would top a blackjack card-counting jet plane, but that just might do it. Seriously though, don’t even pretend like you would not be willing to pay real money to see a dinosaur cabaret…
Young, closeted Jeremy did have some deep forbidden fantasies about Oliver’s sexy dino tail though, and they’ve stuck with him to this day:
For as much of an overbearing pain in the ass that my gay billionaire triceratops was, I always thought he was kind of hot.
Oh, well played, sir, with that bit of foreshadowing. Well played indeed.
Jeremy gets an unexpected phone call from his former pet, which is immediately fraught with so many feels – Oliver’s voice holds “a deep pain” while “a single tear wells up and rolls down [Jeremy’s] cheek”. So that’s not melodramatic or anything. After some awkward small talk, they make plans to go to dinner the following night at a swanky new restaurant. At dinner, Jeremy fights the “taboo gay thoughts about my own dinosaur pet”, until he just can’t take the unbearable sexual tension anymore – so like, half a page – and offers to be Oliver’s human arm candy. Sir Oliver Moneyhorns III is clearly DTF, so he cancels their order and they book it to Jeremy’s nearby apartment. After a classic toss against the door, things start getting hot ‘n heavy. Jeremy unbuttons Oliver’s pants (where does one find triceratops-sized clothing anyway? Is there a hole for the tail? Does he need a zipper? Does he wear a belt? Ahem. Sorry.) and grabs hold of Oliver’s quivering member, but is almost immediately shoved to the floor in order to be taught a lesson.
And here’s where we start getting into some weird Dino-Dom shit. I will not get overly graphic in this post, but words like “demands”, “forces”, “towering authority”, and “brutal strength” are just…not great in a sex scene. Although, this scene was almost redeemed by the description of “his green balls resting tightly against my chin”. Whoops! So much for that promise to not get overly graphic.
Needless to say it gets exponentially more upsetting and explicit from there, then there’s a disgusting grand finale, and that’s it. That’s all the good doctor wrote. Not even an attempt at an ending – just wham, bam, thank you dinosaur.
Honestly, I enjoyed this book A LOT less than my first brush with Tingle: I’m Gay for My Living Billionaire Jet Plane. This one seemed like a quicker read, but it was just less fun and more unpleasant. At least the plane one had an attempt at a story, half-assed and ridiculous as it was, but this book didn’t even try. Granted, there were some hilarious lines – the descriptions of the triceratops were gold – but they were few and far between, and pretty much non-existent during the extended sex scene. Personally, I strongly dislike any erotica with rapey, “strong-overpowers-and-dominates-weak” undertones, so I found it much harder to laugh at My Billionaire Triceratops Craves Gay Ass. Plus the whole “former pet/former master” thing made for weird slavery connotations that I couldn’t really get past. I can’t believe I am actually having a serious discussion about the merits of reading about plane sex versus reading about dinosaur sex.