* Erotic Fiction
* Queer Fiction
* Kinky Erotica
* The Softer Side
By Alice Gray
The Fourth Veda
By Amanda Earl
Beating the Gothic Out of Her
Mercy and the Man. . .
Sex With An Old Woman
The Afternoon Circle Jerk Society
The Graffiti Artist
The Vampire Responds
By Ann Regentin
What Never Dies
By Arthur Chappell
Tedia, Goddess of Boredom
The Too Beautiful Boy
By Big Ed Magusson
Like a Brother
By B.K. Bilicki
Shades of Night
By Brady Sutton
Girls for Leash
The Peculiar Case of...
By C. Sanchez-Garcia
An Early Winter Train
Riding the Dog
The Girl With Kisses...
The Lady and The Unicorn
You Belong to Me
An Evening At...
Are You Kidding?
Bitsy Takes a Test
Cruising On A Sea...
Fridays At The Benoit
Mr. Merridawn's Hum
Readiness Is All
By Cherry Black
Just A Simple Black Dress
By Chris Bridges
By Daddy X
A Woman in My Position
Never For Punishment
Nikki Didn't Like It
By Dominic Santi
Kiss of Peace
By G. E. Russell
First Love, Last Romance
The Glass Cage
This Desolate Eden
You Like It Like That...
By Helen E. H. Madden
Husbands and Wives
Neighbor of the Beast
Over the Rainbow
The Fifth Horseman
The Monster Beneath...
When The Angels Fall
By Helena Settimana
The Space Between
By Huck Pilgrim
A Small Favor
He Sends His Regrets
By J.T. Benjamin
Advice From Miss Millicent
Secret Lives and Lusts
What are Friends For
Olivia's Ulterior Motive
The Baby Doll
The Journals of Chastity
Thornburg Sex Survey
Zachary's Perfect Date
A House On Fire?
It's About Sex
Maureen and Sheila...
Sheila Discusses ...
By john e
I Wish My Dick...
johnny's jackoff journal
In Praise of Pussy
Tight, Tighter, Tightest
You Rang Madam?
By Juniper Maclay
By Keziah Hill
Laying Down the Law
Strawberry Flavoured Joy
The Second Coming
By L.A. Smith
By Lara Nickles
By Lilie Berlin
Color Less Ordinary
Naughty Little Girl
By Mairead Devereux
new War Wounds
By Mike Kimera
At the Adult Bookstore
It May Not be Art...
Living With It...
Paying For It
Playing With Barney
Sex with Owen
Till Death Do Us Part
The Last Taboo
By Nan Andrews
By Nick Nicholson
Grigore & Tatiana
Land of Smiles
By Nikki Isaak
A Rathskeller Jar
The Dread That Stained Kalos
Androids Behaving Badly
Eat Your Veggies
I Am Not A Scorpion
Maybe You Can Go...
The Vow Part I
The Vow Part II - Fiend in Need
What Would Aristippus Think
By Raziel Moore
Invisible Lines (Novella)
The Great Sin
by Robert Buckley
Father Gus genuflected before the altar and crossed himself. He was about to close the chapel for the evening when behind him he heard the hesitant patter of a soul in anguish. He stood, turned.
“Jerry, fancy seeing you here.”
“Hi, Father ... how’re you doing?”
“Shall we check the rafters to see if the church is about to fall down upon your head?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess it’s been awhile.”
“Both you and Marjorie dropping by all of the same evening ... must be a sign of the end times.”
“What? Father, you saying Margie was here? But ... the last I saw her ...”
“Um ... well ... she was kinda tied up.”
“Well, what she say?”
“I can’t tell you that, Jerry.”
“She asked me to hear her confession. Everything she told me is held in sacred confidence. You ought to know that.”
“But, I’m her husband ... doesn’t that give me some privileges?”
“Doesn’t work like that, Jerry. Now, I can see there’s something troubling you.”
“Well, for crying out loud, Father, if Margie’s gone and told you everything, you know what the problem is.”
“Well, yeah. She must have told you, you know, what happened.”
“I can’t say, Jerry. If your soul is troubled and you want to unburden yourself, just go right ahead. I get paid to listen, you know. Cheaper than a shrink and almost as good as an understanding bartender.”
Jerry sat abruptly in a pew, as if his legs could support his guilt no longer.
“Jerry, you’re trembling. C’mon, get it off your chest. Do you want to confess?”
“Um, no, Father. I mean, can’t I just ...”
“Talk? Yeah, sure.”
“But ... Margie’s already told you.” He clasped his hands over his face and cried, “Ah, jeeze, Father, I think I’ve destroyed my marriage. I ... I ... what was I thinking?”
“Jerry, take a deep breath, calm down. I’ll be right back.”
Jerry’s shoulders heaved as he tried to stifle a sob.
Father Gus disappeared into the sacristy and returned with two shot glasses and a bottle of Canadian Club. He poured a shot and held it out to Jerry.
“Go ahead, son, belt it down. There’s plenty more.”
Jerry swallowed the whiskey in a single gulp, letting it burn its way down his gullet. He exhaled like a radiator expels steam.
“No, I’m okay, for now.”
“All right, then. Tell me what’s troubling you, from the beginning.”
“But Margie ...”
“Never mind what Marjorie might have told me. I want to hear it from you.”
Jerry lowered his head and rubbed his hands together. Finally he looked up, but his eyes were wet and unfocused.
“See, Father, Margie and I have been married twelve years now. No kids yet.” He shrugged.
“We just celebrated our anniversary. I took her out to a nice restaurant, and I booked a room at this place out on Route 114. They got these heart-shaped Jacuzzis and ...”
“Well, you see. Things haven’t been so hot between Marge and me. Maybe we’re just too used to each other. I hoped, you know, if we did something a little, um ... risqué, I thought maybe we could jumpstart the old ... um ...”
“I get the idea.”
“But Margie said she felt stupid, and she didn’t like the place at all. She said it was tawdry, and full of creepy people. We didn’t even stay; we went home. And when we get there we don’t even do anything, know what I’m saying?”
“I get the idea.”
“The next day Margie is really irritable. She starts berating me about how I have no imagination and that she wished it was like when we first dated in college. And then ... and then ... she said ...”
“She said she wished she could start all over again with someone else.”
“Father, I was devastated. I made up my mind right then and there I was going to do something ... something to get Margie to want to ... you know, with me.”
“I see. And how did that endeavor turn out?”
“Father ... it’s not something I can talk about. For crying out loud, she must have told you.”
“Never mind what she told me; that is something you can not be privy to. Now, go on; I’m not here to judge.”
“Okay. Well, I read lots of books and I checked out a lot of sites on the Internet, you know, to get some ideas. Well, Margie, she told me once, she likes to lose control.”
“You know, she likes to just lose control. Like, when we were dating she loved for me to take her on this rollercoaster because she said it was so scary and she felt like she was falling out of her seat. I remember one time, she even wet her pants. She was so embarrassed, but later ... well, it was the first time we ... you know, that we ...”
“You weren’t wed then, I suppose.”
“Um, no, Father.”
Father Gus rolled his eyes. “Okay, no matter. Go on. Marjorie likes to lose control.”
“Yeah, well, I get this idea in my head, see. Margie’s also the most ticklish girl I ever met. I’m serious, her eyes bug out and she screams and wails and thrashes ...”
“Uh-huh, I get it. She’s ticklish.”
“Yeah, so anyway, I got home the other night before her and set things up.”
“Set what up?”
Jerry shrugged. “Well, I bought some, uh, they’re called restraints.”
“Yeah, they’re really just toys, but they do what they’re supposed to do.”
“Yeah. Anyway, when Margie came home I told her I had a surprise for her. At first she wasn’t interested, but I started taking her clothes off. She tried to fight me, but just a little bit, so I figured she was getting into it, and when I’d gotten her down to her panties I put on the blindfold.”
“Yeah. Um, Father, it is all right, me telling you about this in church and all?”
“See that little box over there; kinda looks like a coffin with add ons?” Father pointed at the confessional.
“People tell me stuff in there that would make your hair stand on end ... every Saturday afternoon ... unless there’s a playoff.”
“Uh, okay. Just wanted to be sure.”
“Get on with your story, Jerry. So your wife of twelve years is standing in your home stark naked except for a blindfold.”
“No, Father, she had her panties on too.”
“Thank God, we wouldn’t want her to catch cold, would we?”
“Um ... well, anyway, I lead her into the bedroom and I cuff her and secure her to the bed posts, you know, so her arms are outstretched like ...”
“Christ on the cross?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have put it that way.”
“Of course not ... an occupational bias on my part. Go ahead.”
“Then I tied her feet at the ankles with a pair of her stockings so she’s all ... um ... restrained, and her legs and arms are ... spread-eagle, you know.”
“Hmm. Okay, and then what?”
“Father ... honest, she never looked so beautiful.”
Tears began to spring from Jerry’s eyes.
“I just ... looking at her like that ... Father, I never felt such powerful ... love. God, she was beautiful.”
“Okay. So, what did you do?”
“I started to lick her underarms.”
“Well, I told you she was ticklish. I figured I’d tickle her senseless.”
“Uh-huh, and how’d that work out?”
“Father, she was wild. Screaming and begging for me to stop, and yanking on her restraints, and her hips came up off the bed and almost knocked me onto the floor. But I kept it up. I switched from one armpit to the other and she’s absolutely screaming and begging me, “Stop, stop, stop! I’m gonna pee!”
“Did you stop?”
“No, of course not, I figured she was enjoying it because she was so out of control and ... honest, Father, it was making me all hot and excited.”
“You didn’t stop.”
“No ... not until ...”
“I should have stopped.”
“But you didn’t, and what happened?”
Jerry nodded. “She peed. Jesus, she went off like a sprinkler, right through her panties. I got it right in the face, and she was soaked.”
“Hmm. And then?”
“Father ... I never heard the kind of language out of a woman that came from my Margie’s mouth.”
“Aw, Father, you don’t want me to ...”
“If I’m to understand you need to tell me.”
“Father, she called me a fucking asshole, and a motherfucking son of a bitch prick, and that she was gonna rip my face and claw out my eyes, and what a goddamned fucking shit of a pervert I was. After that it pretty much got unintelligible, Father. You know, like she was speaking in tongues, like in the Gospel when people become possessed by demons and shit like that.”
“I see. And what did you do then?”
“I ran, Father, I ran out of there as fast as I could. I felt so ashamed and dirty at what I’d done to her. She can’t ever forgive me, I just know she can’t.”
“So, you left your wife tied to a bed drenched in her own urine?”
“Huh? Aw, shit. I guess I did. I wasn’t even thinking ... but, aw jeeze, Father, she’da killed me if she’d gotten loose.”
“But, wait a minute. You said she was here.”
“So, she must have gotten loose ... oh, shit, now I remember.”
“Margie’s friend, our next door neighbor. She came running out of her house just as I was hightailing it down the driveway. She called to me; she said, ‘Jerry, what’s going on?’ She must have heard Margie screaming. God, she must have thought I’d murdered her.”
“This Lois, are you good friends with her?”
“Her and her husband, Frank. We’ve been neighbors for years.”
“Father, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Margie won’t let me come home, not after what I did, how I shamed her. I know she won’t. I’m so sorry; I love her so much.”
The dam that had held back his sobs broke all at once. Father Gus poured him another shot, and one for himself.
They knocked them back, and Jerry began to settle down.
“I must’ve made her feel so dirty and degraded,” Jerry cried, “that she had to come here to confess. But, it’s all my fault.”
“There, there, son. I’ve been in this business a long time, and there’s some things I’ve come to understand about sinners and human nature.”
“Huh,” Jerry said, wiping an eye with his fingers.
“I can’t betray the sacred confidentiality of the confessional. What I can tell you is, people feel guilty when they sin, not because they feel bad ... but because they feel good.”
“That’s right. Feeling good about being bad; that’s a recipe for shame. And shame itself can make us feel good sometimes, which just makes us feel bad. Son, the Church has shame down to a science and an art.”
Jerry sat up; his eyes brightened. “You mean to tell me ... Margie really ...”
“I told you, I can’t tell you what Marjorie confided to me. I won’t warn you again.”
Jerry grabbed the priest’s hands. “Aw, Father, jeesh, thanks. Thanks for everything. I’ll be back, I promise. Me and Margie, you’ll see us at Mass regular ... depend on it.”
Jerry ran down the aisle for the exit as fast as his legs could carry him.
Father Gus poured himself another shot and sighed, “Oy, vey!”
* * *
Jerry turned his key and peered around the front door of his home. He took tentative steps inside, like a thief, or a penitent. The living room lamps were dimmed and the house was as quiet as a funeral parlor. He peeked into the kitchen, but there was no sign of Marjorie.
He fortified his resolve and climbed the darkened stairway. Light shown beneath the bedroom door. His hand hovered over the knob. One more deep breath and he pushed the door open a crack.
“Marjorie, can I come in?”
Despite receiving no answer he ventured into the room. The bed was empty. Panic began to well in his gut.
“I’m over here.”
He turned to find his bride in a corner sitting on the floor with her forehead pressed to her knees that she hugged with both arms, and all draped in her red tresses like a curtain of shame. Jerry knelt beside her.
“Margie, you okay?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice barely registered.
“I ... I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“Huh? Margie, what’s the matter?”
“Well, what about Lois?”
“I was so mad at you.”
“I was mad because ... you made me pee.”
“Yeah, I was such a jerk.”
“No. I mean, I was mad, but then, I wanted you to come back.”
“I was afraid you hated me.”
“I did ... I mean, I did, but, I wanted you to ... come back.”
“Then Lois came in the room, and I told her what you did ... and what I did. And she said it was okay, and she helped me get free and helped me into the shower and ... and ...”
“She said that she knew I enjoyed what you did, and I said, ‘How can you say that?’ and she said she could tell, and she said she was going to clean me up and she began to soap me all over ... my pussy too.”
“And she said I was a perverted little slut and I told her to stop, and she said I liked what she was doing, and I said I didn’t, and she slapped my ass, and then she made me say I liked it, and when I did I realized I really did like it, and she made me come with her fingers, and then she made me come again, and she said she was going to spank me, and she did, over the bed while I was still wet and I cried and told her to stop, and she said she’d stop if I really wanted her to and ... and ... and ...”
“What, honey, what?”
“And I told her I didn’t want her to stop spanking me.” Marjorie convulsed as a series of sobs overtook her.
Jerry held her in his arms.
“It’s okay, honey ... it’s okay.”
“Jerry, she called me ‘little miss pissy pants’ and she said she’s going to make me wear diapers the next time she comes over to play with me, and when she said that I came again because she was fingering my pussy again and I felt so dirty and disgusting.”
“Lois said that?”
“Uh-huh, and ... and ...” she struggled to speak through spasmodic sobs.
“It’s okay, honey. Calm down.”
“She said, wasn’t it fun, and that she always knew I was ... I was ...”
“A little humiliation whore.” She began to wail again.
“She said she’s going to talk to you about coming over to play with me again.”
“I felt so dirty and depraved, I didn’t know what to do, so I went to the church and saw Father Gus. But he said ...”
“What did he say?”
“He said ... God has a hell of a sense of humor and that I should go home and wait for you.”
“Jerry ... please fuck me, baby.”
“I’m so crazy; I can’t stop it any more. Fuck me, honey, call me nasty names, but don’t hate me.”
“I mean ... you can say you hate me, but really love me; it’s okay. Honey, puhleeeeeze!”
* * *
The next morning Jerry stood on his lawn, a mug of coffee in one hand, and took in a deep lungful of fresh air. His neighbor, Frank, waved to him from his driveway, then sauntered onto Jerry’s property.
“Jesus, Jer, what you been slipping into Margie’s food?”
“Lois told me all about finding Marge, and then tuning her up.”
“Tuning her up?”
“Yeah, you know what I mean. And then, last night, we heard her caterwauling. Cripes, after all these years, never hearing a peep out of either one of you.”
Jerry said nothing, but sipped his coffee and smiled.
“You know, Jer, we never told you, but Lois and I like to swing.”
“Yeah, how about we arrange a swap?”
Jerry looked him in the eye.
“Jesus, Frank, what do you take us for, a couple of perverts?”
Frank stood, mouth agape, befuddled. Jerry winked at him and went back inside the house.
He found his bride naked, still asleep, tangled in sheets saturated with the scent of sex. He nuzzled her shoulder.
“Hey, pissy pants. Time to get up. We’re almost late for Mass.”
Marjorie rolled over to face him. She spoke in a sleepy purr, “Help me?”
He lifted her into his arms, and carried her to the shower.
Copyright 1996 and on, Erotica Readers Association, Inc.
By Riccardo Berra
The Girl with Two Lovers
By Remittance Girl
Fixed in Amber
I Waited for You...
The Central Registry
The Other Side
The River Mother
Things Better Left Unsaid
By Richard V Raiment
Ghosts of Christmas Past
Recalled to Life
By Robert Buckley
A Fragile Desire
A Weekend in Queens..
Adam and Eve on a Raft
An Unconventional Friendship
Brotherhood Of The ...
Close to Hand
Coins For The Ferryman
Dead Man's Switch
Does Immortality come with a Pension?
Excess Of Light
Making Her Late For...
Seeing Is Believing
Smells Like Money
The Angel of Loneliness
The Dog Park
The Great Sin
They Need Me
You Get What You Pay For
You're the Only One
By Robert GSK
By Rose B. Thorny
Only When It Rains
Power and Glory
The Thing Under the...
By Sam Thorne
The Right Man
new The Way, the Truth, the Lifer
The Principal of the Thing
By Sidney Durham
I'm Only Shaving!
Junk Yard Goddess
Sometimes I Can ...
Speaking of Escher
The Road Not Taken
By Tulsa Brown
Debt of Honor
Flesh On A Woman
Half Moon Girl
By Valentine Bonnaire
Bing Cherry Silk
Have a Nice Day
Once Upon A Time . . .
Yellow, like the daffodils
By William Dean
A Hand in the Bush
Buy Me Something
Forest for the Trees
Kiss Me And Then...
Stranger in the Bonfire
by A.F. Waddell
A Filing Fling
by Addison Long
Menage A Cart
by Adhara Law
by Alana James
Torn in Two
by Alicia Night Orchid
by Angela Caperton
by BJ Franklin
by Beth Vox
Frostbite the Ice Pimp
by Chuck Lovepoe
The Accidental Fetish
So Much in Common
by Daphne Dubonet
by Delores Swallows
The Hand & I.
by G. Gregory
The Puss Hater
by Inna Spice
One for the Road
by J. Corvo
by J.D. Coltrane
Naked Over New York
by J.Z. Sharpe
The Chocolate Wife
by James Robert Sands
by Jamie Smithe
by Jean Roberta
Caitlin Comes Clean
by Jerry Rightson
Something To Make...
by Jim Parr
Melanie and Jay Go...
by Jude Mason
It's Lovely. It's Horrible.
by Kathleen Bradean
by Kaye Heche
A Husband's Lesson
by Kim Bax
Better Than a Blow...
by Lauren Mills
Page 12 - No. F
In The Name Of...
by Michael Michele
by Nettie Kestler
The Wounded Healer
by Nicholas M.
by Nick Santa Rosa
by P. E. Brink
by Riccardo Berra
Newly Reformed Woman...
by Seneca Mayfair
by Sybil Rush
by Teresa Lamai
by Teresa Wymore
Shadows of De La Rosa
by Tori Diaz