Erotic Review Magazine

Nouvelle Vague Erotica: Erika Lust at the Berlin Film Society

by Daisy Bata / 5th February 2016

Pornography is going mainstream. From the titillating advertising of Poldark to the release of KNKI, the “kinky Tinder”, and Gaspar Noe’s Love using actors performing real sex (in 3D no less), the stiff upper lip of the British public is being teased into submitting. The third wave of feminism has taken sexual liberation by the balls and globally spawned a revolution in pornography and the objectification of women in adult cinema. And shining brightly in the Feminist porn movement is Erika Lust.

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“Nymphomaniac: a woman as obsessed with sex as an average man. ” - Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic's Notebook, 1960



8th February 2016

Says Contributing Editor, Bruce Abrahams, from Storm-Imogen-lashed North Cornwall, "It's unbelievably windy here – lost a TV aerial, a solid teak garden table blown into the bushes and two gates blown open despite their bolts. What would I give and what would I be given? Since context is everything where love and sex are concerned my Valentine present nominations are: for me dinner at Brunswick House followed by for her, (I'll tag along) a night or two at Hazlitt's Hotel, 6 Frith Street. Both places guaranteed  to soothe and titillate the jaded palate."


8th February 2016

Jessica Slane, ER's Deputy Editor, writes "Valentine's Day happens also to be my girlfriend's birthday, which leaves yours truly with the doubly difficult task of finding something that expresses both ardour and kink. Last year she pipped me to the post with a box of Uvex lens-cleaning towelettes for my ever-grimy specs – how to beat that for romance? This year we'll be escaping the city to tramp about Hampton Court learning loads of HISTORY in fleeces and practical shoes. She's made one Valentine's request for an evening of gin and bingo (not a euphemism), so we'll be getting our rocks off at the Gala in Tooting before returning home to pasta and a box-set."


7th February 2016

Goodbye, rabbit, hello Nova! We (the Erotic Towers Review Team) think the We-Vibe Nova is pretty special. We'll be giving you an exhaustive road test soon, but for the time being, take it from us, it's the cat's pyjamas of vibes. Shop around, because prices vary from around £85 (Ann Summers) to £107 (Coco de Mer). It's a Valentine's must.


7th February 2016

With only a week to go, we asked ourselves (i.e. the ER Editorial Team) how could we inspire our readers? What would we like to receive for a Valentine's Day present? Or, more altruistically, what would we like to give our beloved? As usual Kate Copstick, our Editor At Large, isn't doing anything by halves: "As this is a fantasy, arrival into Venice is by private jet. Nothing kills a romantic frisson quite like queuing at an airport and haggling for one extra kg in your hold baggage. It is evening on the 13th, dusk is settling on the lagoon as the water taxi skips across it. Pre-dinner drinks are taken standing in a tiny bar on the Fondamenta Fruili round the corner from the Academia - a uniquely welcoming experience. I dare not reveal its name for fear too many people find out about it. There is great conversation, loud laughter and endless good, cheap red wine from the bottiglione. Darkness now wraps itself around the city which makes the walk along canalsides and through tiny calle to the Trattoria da Arturo for their unsurpassable Braciola alla Veneziana: a theatrically thrilling experience. As midnight strikes on Valentines Day, taking in the view over the Grand Canal from the window of a palazzo is a little love affair all of its own. Valentine's Day itself – after enjoying the visceral thrust of a caffè corretto for breakfast - is spent wandering the tiny alleyways of Venice, getting lost, finding new bridges on which to stand and sigh, visiting the Angelo Raffaele, drinking fat red wines from little glasses and nibbling cicchetti at the Diavolo e l'Aqua Santa and the Cantina Do Mori, and meandering around the lesser canals in a private water taxi. A fishy dinner at the Antica Trattoria la Furatola, finished with Luigi's own recipe 'scroppino' – a digestivo of alcoholic coffee and liquorice - a last meander across a favourite piazza and then tears because it is time to part.. And what of my Valentine I hear you ask ? My Valentine is Venice herself. Eternally, headily, sexy. And I will love her forever."

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The Red House

by Neville Elder / 4th February 2016

You don’t have to be autistic to have a photographic memory. It’s really common with children up to the age of five, but they grow out of it. With kids, it’s a sensory thing, like a mental muscle memory. I was told I would grow out of it too—but for some reason, I didn’t. I remember everything. It’s like having Netflix in my brain. As a kid I used it mostly like a VCR. I memorised TV shows, whole episodes and re-ran them whenever I wanted. That’s how I got Emily to like me. We’d sit in the nook in the big fallen tree by the creek and she’d pick episodes of Little House on The Prairie. We were both 16, and I thought the show was pretty lame, but Emily adored it. Do the one where Mary goes blind. With or without the credits? Um…Without.

Pierre - an extract

by Primula Bond / 28th January 2016

A new novel from Primula Bond has us quivering with excitement. Pierre Levi, the gorgeous but disreputable brother from the bestselling Silver Chain trilogy is the star of this stand-alone novel. Pierre fears that the hit and run which nearly killed him was the only thing capable of stopping his destructive behaviour. Now he’s torn between his desire for reconciliation with his brother, Gustav, and his attraction to Serena, Gustav's girlfriend. However, when comely nurse, Rosa Cavalieri, at the exclusive Aura Clinic, meets the traumatised Pierre in room 202 she is determined to get him back on his feet. While Rosa is mending her own broken heart and although Pierre is plagued by demons and generally distrustful of himself and everyone around him. He becomes curious about his feisty and gorgeous nurse. Her gentle nature and playful teasing ignites a passion he didn’t imagine possible. But the recovery that Rosa has worked so hard to achieve for Pierre is also beginning to pull them apart. And if Pierre cannot see that Rosa’s talents make her the perfect match for him, he’ll lose her for good…

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3rd February 2016

Artists are rarely so comfortable in themselves as Victoria Rowley. Legs that are endlessly elegant (CHIC, two down) and a face of incomparable beauty, it’s a wonder that you haven’t come across her before. Perhaps it’s because she’s been up to her elbows in mysterious dyes, colouring silks and studiously creating undeniably erotic images, mixing images of the botanical with the male sex for the last few years. Now she’s managed to get the stains out from her hands she’s doing more than rolling up her sleeves to bring her creations to life.

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Because She's Got Breasts

by / 5th September 2013

After a few months at Erotic Towers, Tati is leaving her post as editorial assistant to chase boys in the South of France. Parting is such sweet sorrow: let us sweeten it a little more with a charming song about her breasts. Ladies, this one is for you.

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Please don't send us pictures of your penis

by Florence Walker / 28th January 2016

To send or not to send a dick pic? When this particular question is directed at viral content producer Lucy Baker the answer is an unequivocal “No”. Her song, “Don’t send girls pictures of your penis” has been viewed over 89,000 views on The Tab Durham’s Facebook feed. The adult subject matter of the song is juxtaposed with Lucy’s sweetly angelic vocal cords to make it ever more side-splitting. The Erotic Review harassed Miss Baker on what (or who?) moved her to pen (th)is catchy tune.

Corbyn the Musical: The Motorcycle Diaries

by Florence Walker / 25th January 2016

If you enrol at Philippe Gaulier school for clowns, don’t expect to leave as a comic genius - the school believes true talent is only found once in a generation. But according to professional politic-enthusiasts Bobby Friedman and Rupert Myers, Gaulier never checked the Houses of Parliament. Rife with buffoon-like behaviour, aspiring comedy writers can always cut-and-paste government goings on directly into their shows. But it was Jeremy Corbyn’s earnest and heart-felt plight that moved the two to fill the London stage with a full-length musical.

The land of (false) promise

by Ali Weiss / 13th January 2016

My first experience with dating apps happened when I was studying abroad: I decided to use Tinder to make friends. I’ve always been a guy’s girl, so I figured that in chatting up a certain type of man, I could establish — or at least feel out — a place for myself in creative London. Presenting photos with my best angles and an About Me that stated I was from New York and a fan of hip-hop and whiskey, I had no problem roping in multiple drink offers from journalists, DJs, and innovators. I was able to bypass the need to peruse blogs and magazines to discover where, and with whom, I ‘should’ be hanging out.

David Bowie 1947 - 2016

by Zoë Apostolides / 11th January 2016

On Halloween we went to a Ru Paul’s Drag Race night. We took care with our costumes – the right level of taste and glitz and contouring. People danced with each other, groups of friends leading others to the main stage, praising outfits, winking; we danced all night. One of the last costume changes saw Sharon Needles come onstage in full David Bowie getup, man dressed as woman dressed as man. The place went wild, then sort of teary; I bawled into my gin. This was Ziggy, and so much of what we were here to celebrate was possible thanks to him. The room was packed with people who used to be the odd ones out, and now hundreds of odd ones out of any, all or no sexual/gender identity were packing the rafters to celebrate that difference, that symposium of irregularity.


by Bruce Abrahams / 6th January 2016

On the basis of ‘can’t live with, can’t live without ’em’, we bade farewell to our seasonal pilgrims as they drove homeward toward the border and the first traffic jam of their journey on the A30. Such Schadenfreude was a little unbecoming for those of us who are immigrants, but enjoyable nonetheless. It being a post-New-Year Sunday, a few of us had gathered at random in the Old Doom Bar with our newspapers for a quiet, pre-prandial pint. It is an unspoken rule that we eschew comment on serious news, so it was Mr Danczuk whose misfortunes formed the basis of our discussions. There was a sense of déjà vu about the affair. What is it about middle-aged men that compels them to text or tweet nubile young women in terms that they must – if they thought about it – realise would inevitably be characterised as inappropriate?


by Ali May / 23rd December 2015

The standard perception of Scandinavian society is one replete with liberty and freedom of expression. We think of ‘openness’ as a byword for the Nordic way of life. Sadly, this may not always be the case. Mathilde Grafström is, in her own words, ‘just an ordinary girl from Jutland’s countryside in Denmark’. But beyond her modest and self-deprecating manner, Grafström turns out to be a scintillating photographer of female beauty – a natural beauty with an edge of innocence. 'For some reason I have a talent for spotting beauty in others, when they themselves cannot see it,” she told me in an exclusive interview. “I hope to increase the self-confidence and self-esteem of young Danish women, who often feel surprisingly bad about their bodies.'

What The Fuck Is Feminism?

by Ali Weiss / 22nd December 2015

We live in a time where there is no longer one concrete set of traits that make somebody a “woman.” How is it, then, that we have no qualms about telling each other what “feminism” is and is not? Despite what the dictionary might say, I think the shooting range that is the internet has obliterated any one definition of what it means to be a “feminist.” In fact, it’s discouraged me from fully believing in the word. Let me start by acknowledging my own basic circumstances: like many of the women writing about this topic on the internet, I am white, have received a liberal higher education, and come from an upper-middle class background. In other words, I am privileged. Born and raised in New York City and spending my life in the theatre, I am very sympathetic to and supportive of the plights of queer women, trans women, and women of color, but I still have no idea what it is like to live in those circumstances, and I can only write about what I know.

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Coming and Going

by Zoë Apostolides / 3rd February 2016

One of the many perks of life at Erotic Review is the occasionally atypical things one receives in the post. On returning home last week my front door was stoppered by a heavy package: this’ll be something tax-y, I thought gloomily, as the paper came off. Underneath lay a smart blue cover, bare except for one word that, in my haste to see what was inside, I didn’t spot. Turning to the first page there’s a print of Adam and Eve, all flora and fauna and Eden and bliss. Except that curled around Eve’s neck is what on first glance appears to be the serpent, but is – of course – a double-ended penis the size of a piece of construction tubing. There are 40 items included in the rare-book collector Simon Finch’s catalogue. It’s called Eroticism, and all pieces have been taken from a collection of over 300 works squirrelled away lovingly over the years. Finch tells the story of arriving at an old bookseller’s while at university and noticing the enormous stacks of erotica, which the seller didn’t want to catalogue and which Finch subsequently took home in two creaking vans…

REVIEW | Baby Lame's Shit Show

by Daisy Bata / 27th January 2016

After getting lost amongst the hipsters of Shoreditch and wrongly asking directions to “The Glory Hole”, Erotic Review stumbled across Baby Lame’s Shit Show downstairs at The Glory pub. Entering through a staircase plastered in shiny gold foil, we were greeted by the “PUNK-HORROR-DRAG cabaret monstrosity” that is Baby Lame, and various others in genderless, trashtastic costumes. Perching against a wall amongst a throng of young hip people, No Doubt blasting the speakers, we were treated to a collection of weirdly wondrous and straight up crude cabaret.


by Florence Walker / 21st January 2016

Adapted from Michael Lewis’s book of the same name, The Big Short is an education in what caused the 2008 financial crisis. It’s informative about without being patronising, and unveils the moral realities of the financial world without being preachy. The flashes of genius in the soundtrack and editing are slicker than the most expensive suits on Wall Street. It is a boisterous, irreverent and intelligent romp.

Jewels of Allah

by Ali May / 9th December 2015

What if I told you an inconvenient truth; that a flourishing, unwavering feminist movement was an unanticipated consequence of the Islamic Revolution in Iran. This is the starting point of Jewels of Allah, the Untold Story of Women in Iran, a book recently published by Nina Ansary. It is inspired by Ansary’s academic work, researching the feminist movement in post-revolutionary Iran for a PhD in Columbia University. She lists a series of misconceptions about Iranian women in the first chapter and goes after them one by one, trying to rectify the stereotypical assumptions. It was her book trailer video that I saw first, a very emotive film that made me choke (watch here).


by Florence Walker / 7th December 2015

Based on Ewan Morrison’s first novel, Swung follows David and Alice as they deal with erectile dysfunction and its causes. Areas of blame are evident; David, who has recently been made redundant is a father going through a divorce. While trying to sign up for the dole, he is distracted by a swingers site. When his new girlfriend, Alice, finds the offending page up on his laptop, she begins to research the underground world of swinging in a bid to find something that will sustain David’s hard-on.

C'est si bon – c'est chic!

by Zoë Apostolides / 25th November 2015

The tricky thing about burlesque is that one never knows if it's going to be terrible. It's gathered new audiences in the past decade, and has become more widespread as a style of performance. It's relatively new (not to ER, of course, fnar) but to theatrical companies who might have cottoned onto a winner and started to dabble the proverbial toe. So yes, a blossoming industry – helped along by a renewed interest in cabaret and variety shows – but a spit and shoe polish enterprise nonetheless, which in my book makes it that much more impressive when it's pulled off. And this is – Chic Bonbons is entertaining, it's sexy and it's fun.

LOVE in 3D

by Florence Walker / 11th November 2015

Murphy, an American film student in his early 20s is living with his partner, Omi, and their child in Paris as he laments the breakup with his ex-girlfriend, Elektra. He receives a voicemail from Elektra’s mother telling him that she’s gone missing. Instead of going out to look for his ex, he indulges in a set of opium-induced flashbacks.

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Did Johann Salvadorus kill the Homecoming Queen? No, he did far worse…

Why not treat your Kindle (or other eReader) to a first-class read?  Now available from ER BOOKS, Heart Killer is a dark, erotic, time-tripping crime thriller by Andy Nowicki.
Heart Killer is Nowicki’s fifth novel, with close thematic links to his controversial 2011 novella, The Columbine Pilgrim

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