• Erotic Fiction
• Queer Fiction
• Kinky Erotica
• The Softer Side
By Big Ed Magusson
By Daddy X
Aftermath, 70's Style
Newbies and the Rules
Playing With Dolls
By Ian D Smith
A Good Settlement
By Penelope Lake
It's Too Hot for Yard Work
By R.E. Buckley
It's Just a Dream
Such Things as Soldiers...
By Rose B. Thorny
The Reason for the Season
The Shampoo Girl
By Steve Isaak
By Valentine Bonnaire
Happiness was his warm gun
Year of the Snake
gem-size erotica sure to tickle your fancy
Thunder sounded in the distance. Serene waited. Anticipating. Jona always arrived just before the storm.
He was a cool breeze, wrapping itself around her. Kisses sprinkled with the first raindrops. She shuddered. She needed no urging to open for him. The wind carried away her moan as he slipped inside. Each thrust perfectly matched the wind gust. Thunder rumbled, echoing her building climax. Lightning cracked overhead as she cascaded over, her ecstasy lost in the storm. The ferocity of the storm waned. Jona reluctantly departed. Tears mixed with rain, she pondered how difficult it
After twenty-five years, she still aches, remembering graduation eve. Wind ruffling the reservoir and his raven curls. Kisses and hands. What if they had been braver, sooner?
"I'm glad we could meet." His silver-laced hair is wild as ever.
Her blush speaks clearly. His eyes question. She surrenders.
She opens to him, letting him drive her into fever. In flames, she dreams of ravishment.
He impales her. She savors his roughness. Then their connection fades. She lies beneath a stranger.
Tears of regret gather. He jerks his hips. She strokes his hair sadly as her dream evaporates.
Heavy-eyed from slumber, he blinked and tried to focus on the shadowy figure sitting on the large canopy bed. He attempted to stand, but realized he was bound, legs and chest, to the hard wooden chair. The layered haze of his vision cleared slowly and he saw her distractedly flipping through a tattered porn magazine.
Sensing his fidgeting from the corner of her eye, she held up the porno. "You like masturbating to this shit?"
Her white cotton panties stuffed into his mouth muffled his feeble response.
She flipped the girlie magazine onto his lap. "Show me."
It was an ordinary bar sporting the standard happy hour crowd until she brushed by me with those perfect tits. Fuck! I'd already decided to be good. Tits alone would have been enough, but no...eyes too. Add that little I'm-so-innocent grin and options had been significantly narrowed. Turn around and look. See if I noticed. What could I do but pursue. Investigate. Instigate. Whatever...it's part of the dance. It was as much my fault as it was hers. No telling which of us was the hunted. Truth is it didn't matter. There is no point in assigning blame for natural things.
The petite blonde pulled my knees apart, driving her lithe, lean body between them and driving a wedge between my inhibitions and my need. Swaying to the music, she pressed into me, giggling, "Let's give them a show."
My tongue slid between her breasts, up her neck. Dropping to her knees, pulling me forward, she forced her face up my skirt. My head went back, my hips arched upward. Every man in the club applauded, waving bills in the air, drowning out my screams.
Only we could taste the truth, the essence of my climax evident in her final kiss.
I could blame it on many things, the wine, the late hour, the coldness of my bed for almost a year, even with a husband to sleep there beside me.
They all aligned perfectly for this one indiscretion.
The invitation was made and accepted without a word, just my hand that guided hers between my legs.
I wondered if, when the shadow concealing my reasoning pulled back, I could stand the bright reality of what I had done, hanging full and heavy in my mind.
For the moment, I threw my head back and enjoyed the darkness.
"Doctor, I'm being sexually harassed by my boss."
"You need a lawyer, not a therapist."
"I need the job. Thing is, she treats me rough."
"What does she do to you?"
"She has me take off my clothes, grabs my dick, has me bend over, and then fucks me in the ass with a dildo."
"It bothers me that I like it"
"I know what you need."
"Strip, get down, crawl over to me and eat my pussy while I spread my legs, slut! Would you like that?"
Summer Showers Bring May Flowers
It started 12 years ago.
I found myself aroused and excited whenever I showered outdoors in that wooden partition by the side of the beach house. The kind that is open on top and you can hear others outside as the water cascades and the sun plays spotlight over your nakedness.
The exhibition inhibition lessened each time I indulged in this sinful pleasure. My nipples got pebble-hard and my pussy sodden even before I turned the water on. I revive this memory four nights weekly and twice on Saturday, as May Flowers, just before walking on stage to turn you on.
To Ingrain, To Remember
The cotton sheets whispered against her back, roared as they both struggled for completion. He pulled her head back and stared at her. To remember, to ingrain.
This set of eyes, this melody of limbs, but never her name.
Never their names.
"Listen. Let this, us, echo within these walls."
"Again? Not just that once?"
He thrust and stilled.
"Always. At least tonight."
Practice makes Perfect
He took the cock into his mouth, not sure he was doing it right. A grunt from above let him know he was doing okay.
It was just a cock. Bigger than a clit but the principle was the same, suck and lick. He wasn't sure about swallow, but it couldn't be that bad. If Gina could do it, so could he.
"That's right, baby. You're doing fine."
Relief washed over him. Cock sucking was an art like any other. Thankfully, it seemed he was good at it.
A gate slammed and the lights went out.
Ten more years.
Evolution At Work
At two o'clock, the chimps' keeper rowed out to their island to feed them, and to keep his appointment with the lady in charge of the hippos. He licked her pussy while she sucked his cock, and afterwards he mused how perfect it was. Chimps hate water, so they couldn't escape.
The first part of their plan successful, the chimps quickly put part two into action. As Bruno rowed across the lake, leaving the keeper and his afternoon delight stranded, he turned to Blossom and remarked, 'Thank God we only share ninety-eight percent of our genes with them.'
He laid her head down gently on the grass, smoothing her black braid tenderly.
"Kiss me one more time before you go."
Her lips were warm and soft against his mouth. He wanted their kiss to last forever.
"Why won't you change your mind?"
"I cannot leave my ancestors to this fate."
"But joining them will not change anything."
"No amount of compensation is enough. You must understand that."
She closed her eyes and fell silent. Liu Quiping heard the rushing water rising. He brushed her lips once more and rose to flee. The Yangtze was flooding.
How to Pick Watermelons by a Real Farmer's Daughter
Exhausted, my husband and I worked in the field gathering watermelons.
I made the view interesting; skimpy shorts sans panties. Bending to gather the harvest, my own melons peeked out and my shorts rode high over my cheeks.
Thrilled at the sight of my tantalizing ass and tits, he stopped to rub his cock. I finished my row and slipped into the woods.
Steadied against a tree, I shoved my ass out, legs spread. He went in fast and hard! Five sharp strokes - a torrent of heat.
Fatigue faded, replaced with energy. The only way to pick watermelons!
Duet for One
Her husband's raucous breathing covered the sheets' whisper as she slid quietly from bed.
In the tiny bathroom, she lay with feet planted against the door. The drone of her vibrator obscured the mumble-grumble of his snores. The smooth rubber nub buzzed against her clit. Tears pooled in her eyes as she applied herself to drawing forth yet another resentful, unsatisfied orgasm.
When the doorknob rattled, she froze until his soft footfalls receded toward the other bathroom, then returned to bed.
'What will I say if he asks what I was doing?' she wondered. But he didn't ask; he never did.
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Copyright 1996 and on, Erotica Readers Association, Inc.
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