In the evening, this was followed by dramatic readings at rosefox and sinboy 's of the pornier Philip Jose Farmer materiel--a writer no one has accused of being fantasy or ever questioned being a science fiction author. (The book in question even proclaims a bold new experience in science fiction on the cover.)
I came to this conclusion:
We are tremendously gratified at your interest in our little red project, and pleased that you recognize the potential growth opportunities inherent in whole-planet domination. Of course we remain humble in the face of such august and powerful interests, and seek only to showcase the unique and challenging career paths currently available on the highly desirable, iconic, and oxygen-rich landscape of Mars.
Not science fiction.
He was the Sunhero. Stud-god to a million adoring females.
After 800 years of exploring the stars, Space Commander Stagg had expected a hero's welcome--but this was awesome. First, they grafted real antlers onto his head. Then they invested him with the pure sex power of 50 bulls and turned him loose on a screaming frenzy of fired-up virgins. Now he was on an ecstatic public fertility tour that took in every available female--and could soon take his life... (PJF, Flesh)