Who do you choose?
Legolas from LOTR. I bet that elf has stories to tell!
Granny Weatherwax. I figure that would take me 5 minutes at most to write. I still get the beaucoup bucks, right?
Walter Mitty, but I’d have to change the title to The Fantasy Sex Life of…
Could be more fun than the real thing, actually.
R2-D2.
Pfft.
Samwise Gamgee.
“They did it missionary style. At least thirteen times. The end.”
Where’s my beaucoup bucks?
Lemuel Gulliver. That could prove . . . interesting.
It’s been done: The Secret Diaries.
This one has been done, too. It was in National Lampoon, ages ago. And in The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen – The Black Dossier, and in tons on online "fanfiction’.
Maybe something from H. P. Lovecraft. Like “The Dunwich Horror: The Passion Behind The Abomination”.
James T. Kirk
Hermione Granger. She’s a virgin so throw in a diary entry about how “it burns a tad but I can’t get over the craving to have a ginger root in my mouth at all times” and you’re done.
If it had to be book length I might go with McGonnagall though; I’m guessing green waters run deep.
Put hers next to Nanny Ogg’s and you might have what looks like two books worth!
You write Granny’s, and I’ll get Nanny’s. I bet Casanunda reserves the first copy. Of each!
How literary is literary? Serialized genre-fiction publishers might be crass enough, but fanfic of that nature is done for free. Online. Lots.
That said, Susan Pevensie could be interesting, though I wouldn’t really stop at the sex.
I claim Marcus Cole, Ranger, Babylon 5. He was a virgin. The end. When do I get paid?
Oh, I’m sure you’ll have some writing to do. Marcus was seriously repressed, and probably masturbated like a mother-fuck. Lots of kinky dreams about Ivanova and leather…
-
Marcus: Bugger! Now I have to wait for someone to wake up!
[he is approached from behind by Lennier, who almost gets hit]
Lennier: I would advise against it. [looks at the wreckage] I see they trained you well back home.
Marcus: Well, they said I was carrying around a lot of repressed anger.
Lennier: And?
Marcus: I’m not repressed anymore!*
I’ll be in my bunk…
Fitzwilliam Darcy. Wet or not.
Atticus Finch
When he shot the dog Tim Johnson, Maudie Atkinson was watching from her window. The stark violence of the moment unleashed something both astonishing and savage in her loins; something that until that moment she had not known existed, but which she now knew must be completed by his embrace.
“I burn my candle at both ends. . .”
Emily Dickinson