Erotica Readers & Writers Association
Home | Erotic Books | Authors Resources | Inside The Erotic Mind | Erotica Gallery
Adult Movies | Sex Toys | Erotic Music | Email Discussion List | Links

Story Gallery | Treasure Chest

Erotic Fiction
Queer Fiction
Kinky Erotica
The Softer Side

By Alan
Other News

By Alice Gray
Slick 50
The Fourth Veda
Stolen Hour

By Amanda Earl
Daddy Complex
The Graffiti Artist
Sex With An Old Woman
The Vampire Responds
The Afternoon Circle Jerk Society
Beating the Gothic Out of Her
Real Irish
Mercy and the Man. . .
The Revenant
The Vessel

By Ann Regentin
What Never Dies

By Arthur Chappell
Tedia, Goddess of Boredom
The Too Beautiful Boy

By Big Ed Magusson
The Fix
Like a Brother
Old Dogs

By Brady Sutton
Girls for Leash
The Peculiar Case of...

By C. Sanchez-Garcia
An Early Winter Train
The Doll
The Lady and The Unicorn
Riding the Dog
You Belong to Me
Soul Naked
The Girl With Kisses...

By Cervo
An Evening At...
Readiness Is All
Chinchilla Lace
Fridays At The Benoit
Cruising On A Sea...
Bitsy Takes a Test
Touring Persephone
Are You Kidding?
Quigley’s Harvest
Mr. Merridawn's Hum
Angels’ Spawn

By Cherry Black
Mrs. Priestly
Face Down
Just A Simple Black Dress

By Chris Bridges
The Whitechapel...
Passing Notes

By Daddy X
Nikki Didn't Like It
A Woman in My Position
Never For Punishment
Carnival Ride

By Dominic Santi
Kiss of Peace

By G. E. Russell
Judgement Day
First Love, Last Romance
Snow White
This Desolate Eden
The Glass Cage
You Like It Like That...

By Helen E. H. Madden
When The Angels Fall
Husbands and Wives
The Fifth Horseman
The Monster Beneath...
Neighbor of the Beast
Over the Rainbow
Going Viral
Virtual Love

By Helena Settimana
Highway 69
The Space Between

By Huck Pilgrim
Goodbye Roger
He Sends His Regrets
A Small Favor

By J.T. Benjamin
The Question
Thornburg Sex Survey
Alternating Weekend
Secret Lives and Lusts
What are Friends For
Olivia's Ulterior Motive
Advice From Miss Millicent
The Baby Doll
The Journals of Chastity
Use Me
Zachary's Perfect Date

By Jill
Sheila Discusses ...
It's About Sex
A House On Fire?
Maureen and Sheila...

By john e
I Wish My Dick...
johnny's jackoff journal
Saturday Morning
Ava's Honey

By Julius
In Praise of Pussy
Tight, Tighter, Tightest
You Rang Madam?
The Newcomer

By Juniper Maclay
Lunch Break
The Scientist
Public Transportation

By Keziah Hill
Laying Down the Law
Strawberry Flavoured Joy
The Second Coming
Dutch Masters

By L.A. Smith
Missionary Position
Both Hands

By Lara Nickles

By Lilie Berlin
Naughty Little Girl
Color Less Ordinary

By Mike Kimera
Soft Option
At the Adult Bookstore
Playing With Barney
Deserving Ruth
Till Death Do Us Part
Happy Anniversary
Mating Calls
It May Not be Art...
Living With It...
The Last Taboo
Fucking Ugly
Paying For It
Sex with Owen
Ask Alice
The Sisters
Bar Snack

By Nan Andrews
At Rest
Spirit Guides

By Nick Nicholson
The Room
Grigore & Tatiana
Land of Smiles
The Uniform

By Nikki Isaak
A Rathskeller Jar
The Dread That Stained Kalos

By Oxartes
Maybe You Can Go...
I Am Not A Scorpion
Babylon Nights
Eat Your Veggies
What Would Aristippus Think
The Vow Part I
Fiend in Need Part II
Androids Behaving Badly
Innocent Flower
Eclipse Sex

By Raziel Moore
Invisible Lines (Novella)

By Remittance Girl
The Central Registry
The River Mother
Things Bettter Left Unsaid
The Baptism
The Other Side
I Waited for You...
Pleasure's Apprentice
Fixed in Amber

Forest for the Trees
© 2004 by William Dean

Inspired by
"Apollo and Daphne" (Detail); (1622-25)
Gian Lorenzo Bernini (Italian 1598-1680)

"Nymph, in thy orisons..."  —Bill Shakespeare

Sun-dappled branches of the laurel spread like lightning-laughter from Olympus in fair Wallachia, the once and future Thessaly.  Here the strangeness of passions twines with the crisping basil leaf of summer and the shadowed talon of Nemesis as no other.  Here the Triple-Goddess, bemused and subtle, thumbs her nose at childish Zeus and baits his crude entanglement with a wink to her daughter Aphrodite.  And so it goes...

Paul shuddered at the sight of the circlet in the glass case; a wind blew down his spine and pinched his coccyx as if it were molten.  The dim sunlight, oblique and opaque, wavered across the scaly, encircling bracelet; here revealing scales, there the hint of fang and tongue.  Paul felt faintly nauseous, particularly around the heart.

"It does that," said the androgynous crone beside him.  She wiped the drool from her lower lip with a ragged black sleeve, then tapped a wrinkled, barklike finger against the exhibit case. "Orry-boros." Her antique ivory and lapis eyes gazed dully up at him and she smiled toothlessly.  At that moment, a hushed breeze came from behind them and the museum caretaker closed the window shutter, cutting off the sunlight with a bang.

"See what I mean?" mumbled the crone with a low cackle. "Apollo, heh heh." She nervously glanced around her, then poked her rigid middle finger up from her fist.

"The oddest thing, darling," said Paul over dinner that night, "was that when I thought about it all going down the museum steps, I somehow confused this old biddy with...with her."

"Paul, oh! You're not going to start all that again, are you?" Tilde's pale foot, bare and warm, settled on his ankle and rubbed vigorously under the table. "Forget about her.  Old news, my sweet.  Think about fucking me instead."

Paul tried a smile.  He really did.  It assembled itself slowly and in parts across his lips, resembling a series of tics and twitches that finally emerged lopsided and unconvincing.  He nodded at Tilde. "I will!" he said too loudly, patting her hand on the tabletop.

"Daphnedaphnedaphnedaphne!" Paul mentally grunted later, pretending awkwardly that the pale, freckly, plump, naked Tilde was a child's rocking horse.  His fingers dig into her fleshy love handles like the thick neck of a wooden mount, his hips mechanically riding forward and backward and bizarre mutations of "De Camptown Races" beating a rhythm in his mind. "Do dah, doo dah!" he suddenly cried.  Tilde looked at him over her shoulder.

"What did you say?"

Paul leaned over her wide back, noticed she had been reading a glossy magazine, lying askew on the pillow.

"What?" Tilde said.

"What?" Paul replied.

"Paul, oh.  Your cock feels so good, so big, so...wonderful." Tilde smiled and looked back down at her magazine.  She turned a page. "Mmmmmmm."

Paul's eyes rolled back in their sockets. "Daphnedaphnedaphne," he chanted silently.  He promised himself he'd call his father tomorrow.

"How's that honey of a new wife doing, Pauly?" The old man's voice sounded more than half-cracked. "You got her well-seeded with my grandson yet?"

"Dad? I'm not sure it's working out.  I mean, she's..."

"Pauly, you listen to me.  I already know what you're going to say, so don't.  If Tilde lets you put that little pecker of yours in her, that ought to be enough.  Don't expect her to get all damn gushy and grateful over it, boy.  If you wanted that, you ought to have married that...what the hell was her name? Dabney? Danny?"

Paul swallowed loudly.  A rather well-ordered and familiar phantasmagoria swarmed between his ears and tremored down his body: naked limbs, finger twigs, hair leaves, kiss blossoms, and slithering through it all a massive python that crushed the breath out of his lungs.  A tiny, humid voice echoed up from the swampy well of his pitiable soul. "Daphne," it said simply.

"Well, this is costing you money, Pauly.  I'll let you go.  Don't forget to bring me back some of that Greek brandy." Click; and the world was shut off.

Paul sat in a rickety chair at Taverna Empiros all afternoon, nursing watery ouzo and avoiding the dark-eyed admiring glances of the passing young women.  Some scuttled behind him, brushing their full breasts against the top of his head and apologizing as if they had done it by sheer accident.  A few even sat for a moment or three at nearby tables, running be-ringed fingers through their hair, impatiently and seductively swinging a foot or flapping their knees.

One asked the fat, old waiter. "Pusti?" He shrugged.  She frowned.

Paul reveried in absentia.  He chased naked Daphnes through dell and dale, over creeks and under bowers, always like a rampant Pan, cock wobbling between his goaty thighs, mouth bleating like a sacrificial sheep, heart charred and sere while she, frightened yet merry, skipped aloof and heedless through a greening world.

"That sucks," cried a massive Tantalus, sprawled beneath an towering oak.  Paul sped on.

"Catch her, rut her, root her, ream her, ram her," sang miniature satyrs scampering along beside him.

"I'm trying, fuck off!" Paul shouted, stamping them under his galumphing hooves.

"Asshole!" squealed the satyrs, echoing after him.

The titters pursued him, enveloped him, broke over his earlobes like ever-returning tides.  Earth titters.  Goddess giggles.  Isis and Hecate laughter. "Little dick, little dick, you can't have her." Paul sipped his murky ouzo and reveried continual failure. "Daphnedaphnedaphne, dammit!"

A fair-haired little Greek boy stood across the mostly empty road, a smile of mischief plastered on his face.  Without a word, from time to time, he stuck his tongue out and made a Gorgon-face across the road.  His mother, finally struggling out of a store, arms laden with packages, gathered him up with a nudge of her knee.

"That man's a boo-boo," he said quietly, without pointing.

"Cha!" She herded him along the sidewalk until they vanished on the horizon.

"He seeks her here, he seeks her she in heaven or in hell?"

Paul's eyes unglazed.  He looked up at the suddenly-appeared man. "Cosworth!"

"Hey, Pauly." August Cosworth settled into a chair opposite. "Still pining over the elusive Daphne, I bet.  You looked like you were a million miles away."

"Three million, four, what's the difference.  What the hell are you doing in Greece?" Paul painted a grin over his lips.

"Botanist's tour," Cosworth returned the grin. "They gave me a grant to study the...the unique and subtle flavoring and scent of the Thessalian basil tree leaf." He chuckled. "The humble laurel as new taste sensation for Amica's Fine Spices and Seasonings."

Paul shuddered.  Blood drained to his toes and his veins ached.

"S'matter, Pauly? You haven't gone and caught that Greek epilepsy, have you? You look white as a cobra."

Paul's lips opened, closed, opened, closed.

"What the hell, Pauly? Oh.  Oh, yes, of course.  Laurel, basil, Daphne.  Myth, where is thy sting? Sorry, shouldn't have mentioned her.  Here, look, have another drink.  A decent brandy, not that licorice candy crap you're sipping."

Four brandies was simply too much on top of the ouzo.  Paul could just barely get his cock erect enough to wriggle and stuff it inside Tilde's cunt that night.  She swayed her hips slowly from side to side and sighed. "It's all right, darling.  I think it's rather sweet this way." She cooed, rubbing two fingers idly up and down, up and down. "Did Cosworth find you, by the way? My god, he's a randy devil.  For a botanist, I mean.  It was all I could do to keep him from chewing my nipples down in the hotel bar.  Oh! I think he would have tongued my little pussy right under the table if I had let him.  Or the Greek police would have." Her eyelids fluttered slightly. "Did you just come, darling?"

Paul shook his head.

"Oh, well, I'm sure you will eventually." She continued to sway her hips then paused. "Darling? Does Cosworth have a big one? Cock, I mean.  You must have seen it, you've been friends for just ages, haven't you? I mean, I don't really care, just curious is all.  Does he? Paul, oh! I know you came then, didn't you?"

Paul shook his head.  He chased and chased and chased Daphne until he found himself in a sun-dappled glade, edges encrusted with tall, lithe laurels.  He looked at first one, then another, and another, and another.  Then, his mind sat down on a rock and held his head in its hands.

© 2004 William S.  Dean.  All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Bio:  Who is William Dean? Read his bio on the Erotica Readers & Writers Association website.

Authors live for feedback!
If you enjoyed this story, please send comments to
William S. Dean 


  E-mail this page

Search ERWA Website:

Copyright 1996 and on, Erotica Readers Association, Inc.
All Rights Reserved World Wide. Reproduction in whole or in part in any form or
medium without express written permission is prohibited.

By Riccardo Berra
Ligne Claire
The Girl with Two Lovers

By Richard V Raiment 
Ghosts of Christmas Past
Recalled to Life

By Robert Buckley
Absentee Ballots
Making Her Late For...
Brotherhood Of The ...
Convenience Store
Head Games
Practicing Lovecraft
Coins For The Ferryman
Seeing Is Believing
The Mission
A Weekend in Queens..
The Exchange
Close to Hand
Excess Of Light
They Need Me
Bench Mates
Pre Need
Cthulhu's Toad
The Dog Park
Smells Like Money
Extraordinary Graces
What Now?
You Get What You Pay For
The Angel of Loneliness
The Great Sin
Mere Moments
An Unconventional Friendship
Adam and Eve on a Raft
Dead Man's Switch
Does Immortality come with a Pension?
Embraceable Ewe
A Fragile Desire
Surviving Winter
You're the Only One

By Robert GSK
Still Life

By Rose B. Thorny
The Thing Under the...
Only When It Rains
Power and Glory

By Savannah
Naked Ambition
The Principal of the Thing

By Sidney Durham
Junk Yard Goddess
I'm Only Shaving!
Santa, Baby!
Sometimes I Can ...
Speaking of Escher
The Road Not Taken

By Tulsa Brown
Flesh On A Woman
Half Moon Girl
Debt of Honor

By Valentine Bonnaire
American Daddy-O
Bukowski Girls
Bing Cherry Silk
Colony, Collapsed
Have a Nice Day
l'heure bleue
Once Upon A Time . . .
Red Suede
Yellow, like the daffodils

By William Dean
Stranger in the Bonfire
Great Notion
Kiss Me And Then...
Switch Back
A Hand in the Bush
Buy Me Something
Forest for the Trees
Swap Meet
Burning Man
Port Said
Twisted Faith
Political Asylum

Screen Play
by A.F. Waddell

A Filing Fling
by Addison Long

Ménage A Cart
by Adhara Law

Elevator Shaft
by Alana James

Torn in Two
by Alicia Night Orchid

by Angela Caperton

The Lady-killer
by BJ Franklin

by B.K. Bilicki

The Vacation
by Beth Vox

Frostbite the Ice Pimp
by Chuck Lovepoe

The Accidental Fetish
by Corvidae

So Much in Common
by Daphne Dubonet

The Hand & I.
by EllaRegina

Safari Tuesday
by G. Gregory

The Puss Hater
by Inna Spice

One for the Road
by J. Corvo

Full Serviced
by J.D. Coltrane

Naked Over New York
by J.Z. Sharpe

The Chocolate Wife
by James Robert Sands

Once Shy
by Jamie Smithe

by Jean Roberta

Caitlin Comes Clean
by Jerry Rightson

Something To Make...
by Jim Parr

Melanie and Jay Go...
by jtallen

Peeping George
by Jude Mason

It's Lovely. It's Horrible.
by Kathleen Bradean

The Temp
by Kaye Heche

A Husband's Lesson
by Kim Bax

Better Than a Blow...
by Lauren Mills

Page 12 - No. F
by LilyOrchid

In The Name Of...
by Michael Michele

The Classics
by Nettie Kestler

The Wounded Healer
by Nicholas M.

by Nick Santa Rosa

The Cabin
by P. E. Brink

Post Mortem
by Riccardo Berra

Newly Reformed Woman...
by Seneca Mayfair

by Sybil Rush

by Teresa Lamai

Alter Christus
by Teresa Wymore

Shadows of De La Rosa
by Tori Diaz