…Meanwhile, back at the Sex Farm… / Bill Starr

Hurrah! At Last a Book About a Nymphomaniac!

“I should have been a whore instead of a poet,” voluptuous Ruth remarks to her world-wise bedmate, Bill, who approves. “Better be a whore than a poet. You meet a better class of people.” And so back to the Sex Farm. The happy couple leaves the city for a well-earned vacation, intending to cure her nymphomania and his satyriasis… with the same medicine. Although this takes place long before the sexual revolution came upon us, the goings-on at the Sex Farm are so outrageous that they will leave you goggle-eyed, faint, watery-mouthed and twitching.