Woody Allen once said that sex was the most fun he'd ever had without laughing. But laughing and sex are not mutually exclusive. Horniness brings on undignified behaviour, and it is all the more fun if we are in on the joke. This blog is a celebration of the funny side of sex and the sexy side of humour. As an author of erotic stories I like to show that sex is more fun when it is playful and silly.

You can find my humorous erotic ebooks on I-Tunes, Kobo, Barnes & Noble and Smashwords. They are always free!!!

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

I, A Dick : Wank Wednesday


Today's Wank Wednesday prompt word is #shadow. For more info on this writing challenge and for links to the other stories visit the Word Ejaculation site.

I, A Dick




What horniness lurks in the panties of women? The Shadow knows.

I'm The Shadow. Not the one who was the subject of the radio show in the 30s. He died ages ago. It's one of those things like with The Phantom - a new one takes the place of the old when they get past it.

But, like the original Shadow, I have a prominent proboscis and I make my living by sticking it into other people's business. I'm a private eye - a dick. Unlike my predecessors though, I don't solve murders. Cheating wives are my specialty.

My name comes from my ability, using my dark cloak and dark hat, to fade into the shadows when tailing someone. I have a talent for virtual invisibility. Virtual invisibility comes through the combined effect of two talents :

1. Knowing where someone will be looking.

2. Being somewhere else.

This is the tale of what happened when I was hired to investigate famed erotic romance novelist Tamara Tingle (clearly not her real name). Her husband, publishing magnate Nigel Knobworthy (unfortunately his real name), suspected that not all of Tamara's libido surplus was being sublimated into her literary works. His instincts told him that other boners than his had been playing in what he considered his personal rumpus room.



First I followed her down to the post office around noontime. It was a small one-man post office. I slipped in inconspicuously and pretended to be looking at the funny birthday cards.

"I've got a package for you," Tamara said to Postman Pat (his real name and he gets so much shit about it), "do you have a package for me."

"Coooorrrrrrr!" replied the veteran stamp-licker, leering at Tamara's thoughtfully displayed cleavage. Clearly the two were on familiar terms.

Pat hurried over to the door. He closed it, locked it and turned outward the sign which read "Out to Lunch". Neither of them noticed my presence behind the display stand of discount-priced Andre Rieu DVDs.

"Mmmmm, you do have a package for me," sighed Tamara as they headed out into the back room. She was fondling Pat's erect penis through his regulation trousers.

Pat picked her up and lay her on the mail table.

"I'm afraid you'll have to stay here," he told her. "We aren't allowed to post anything that might catch fire, and you are way to hot."

Tamara giggled and unzipped his pants, pulling out his rock hard cock.

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "Your prick's gone postal!"
He quickly tore off the rest of his clothes, and then set about tenderly disrobing his lady love. He slid the straps of her dress down over her shoulders and reached under her to unclip her bra. He sighed with delight at the unveiling of her lush, creamy stiff-nippled boobs.

He grabbed a sheet of stamps and tore off two of them. Then he licked her pert pink nipples and slapped a picture of Queen Elizabeth's face on each of them.

"I hope your package isn't too big to fit in my slot," smiled Tamara, as he pulled off her dress and slid down her panties. He gave her stiff clit a good licking and decorated that too with the smiling face of the matriarch of the Windsor clan.

He then picked up a magic marker and wrote an address on her little round belly :

Tamara Tingle
1 Wet Pussy Way
Orgasmville 0000
Heaven

"Mmmmmmm, send me there... send me there..." pleaded the notorious novelist of naughtiness.

Pat grabbed her legs and slid his postman's prick deep into her hot horny hole.

"Your post and my box," she moaned, "the perfect team."

She came over and over again. Pat wanted to keep going, but he could hear people knocking on the door wanting to mail their letters. So he pulled out of her well-satisfied pussy and ejaculated all over the queen's face.

I recorded it all on my camera phone.

The pair dressed quickly, then Pat unlocked the door. I walked out backwards so that he would think I was walking in. So far so good.

That night I examined the evidence carefully, so carefully, in fact, that I used up a whole box of tissues.

The next day Tamara gave a lecture on genre writing at the local university.

After the lecture I stood nearby listening to her conversing with an under-graduate.

"How's our little charity organisation going?" she asked.

"If you are in the mood to give until it hurts," he replied, "there are fifteen poor unfortunates in need or your assistance."

I followed them to a deserted classroom. The fifteen unfortunates turned out to be the entire university Dungeons and Dragons Club and the dilemma from which they needed to be liberated was the state of virginity.


At first they were a little shy, but once they realised that they could role a dice to see who got to stick their cock into which hole, they took to this new group activity like ducks to water. [Or like a second-rate author of humorous erotica to a well-worn cliche. Ed.]

"You guys are going to do fine now you've lost your cherries," she reassured them, as she squeezed her bum-hole around a spotted youth's sizeable cock, while a fat hairy guy fucked her juicy cunt and the rest wanked off in the wings. She didn't just pay lip service to their carnal talents, she used her luscious lips on their cocks and balls as well.

Half way through the orgy a hot girl walked in on them.

"Wow!" she cried. "Can girls join the Dungeons and Dragons Club?"

"Sure!" cried the guys in unison.

"If I'd known you got nude and played for fuck forfeits," she informed them, pulling off her t-shirt to reveal her massive bra-less boobs, "I would have applied ages ago."

"Much has been achieved here today," Tamara's friend told her, giving her a kiss on her way out.

"Who's that dude with the cloak and black hat?" asked the fat hairy guy. But by the time the others looked I was gone.

I can't give you the name of the guy Tamara visited on the following day, because he is a famous best-selling horror novelist. They had met up during the filming of a documentary on the creative process a few months before.

Now he was back in town and he invited Tamara to join him in his hotel room that evening.

I disguised myself as room service in a tear-away velcro-fastened uniform like strippers use. While the pair were hoeing into their grub, I whipped off the white uniform and merged with the bedroom curtains.

After their meal, Tamara had a shower and came back to lie naked on the bed while her Stephen-King-competing companion attended to his own ablutions.

The lights were off in the room. A slice of light shone through the door, illuminating the wall facing the bed. Suddenly, Tamara screamed as a sinister shadow fell across the wall. It was the shadow of a massive erect cock and it was coming to get her.

The cock which threw the shadow, of course, was not really that big. It was an optical illusion. But it was big enough. Tamara lit a candle beside the bed. In the flickering light she watched the figure that approached the bed. It was naked except for a hockey mask. And its cock clearly had evil intentions.

"Jab me, Jason!" cried Tamara, enthusiastically. "Fuck me, Freddy! Leatherface, be my lover! Choose me, Chucky!"

"Chucky?" queried the masked maniac.

"I like Chucky," she replied, defensively. "He's cute."


"Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab! Stab!" he cried, as he punished her pussy by pounding it with his prick.

"Oh, yeah!" she moaned. "Kill me more! Kill me more!" And she quivered through several orgasms.

"You really are my little scream queen," he smiled evilly, as he sat back on his heals brandishing his still rampant weapon.

"A pity I'm not having my period," she laughed. "Then it would really be a gore-fest."

For a horror author, he appeared to be a bit squeamish at this suggestion and moved on to the next scenario.

"After emerging from the steamy swamp the hideous beast proceeded to terrorise the gorgeous village maiden," he intoned as he slid his hard cock up over Tamara's belly and between her boobs heading for her face.

"Oh, God!" she screamed, "surely this is the spawn of Hell itself. I've never seen anything so hideous... all purple and veiny, and with one horrible lifeless eye staring at me..."

"The monster gave a spasming twitch," groaned the scribe of scariness, as his cock gave in to the delicious sensation of sliding up over the soft flesh of her chin, "and drenched the poor maiden with it's ectoplasm." With this he shot spurt after spurt of his creamy cum all over her face.

Tamara giggled.

"I got slimed!" she cried, smearing his jism all over her cheeks and blowing cum-bubbles with it.

"I was trying for Cthulu mythos and you turned it into Ghostbusters!" he cried in exasperation.

"I like Ghostbusters," replied Tamara. "It has Bill Murray in it. I wish I had Bill Murray in me."


I couldn't help it. I laughed. The number one thing you are supposed to not do when being invisible.

"Who are you?" they wanted to know.

"The Shadow. Private Dick. Hired by Mr. Knobworthy," I introduced myself.

"My husband's jealous?" she asked. "That's sweet. Really it is."

"I'm afraid I'll have to present him with the evidence I've gathered," I explained. "I don't like to do it, but its my job."

"I love my husband," Tamara replied. "That's why I fuck other men. It would be cruel to drain such an important man with all of my sexual needs. We have a good sex life within its limits. But I need more and he doesn't. I don't love any of these other men I have sex with. They love me, of course. How could they not. But its just sex for me."

"I think I'll step out and get some air," said the horror author. "This is getting a bit too personal. Feel free to make yourselves at home until you've sorted this all out."

"Give me all the evidence," suggested Tamara when we were alone, "and I'll suck your cock like it's never been sucked before."

"When you say 'like it's never been sucked before' are we just talking about some kind of weird technique, which might even be painful?" I asked.

"No, I mean your cock will be Romeo and my tongue will be Juliet, only this time they'll get the happy ending they so richly deserve," she explained.

"Oh, O.K.," I replied.

All of my cases have ended pretty much the same way. One of these days I'll learn to resist the wiles of women. Until then I'll just have to keep up my second job as a parking inspector.

The End

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Henrietta Gets Hen-Pecked : Wank Wednesday


Today's Wank Wednesday prompt word is #magician. For more info on the writing challenge and for links to the other contributions check out the Word Ejaculation page.

Henrietta Gets Hen-Pecked


"I don't think you realise how degrading these gigs are for a serious magician," Henrietta complained. "I could pull a rabbit out of my cunt and those chicks wouldn't be impressed. All they want is your cock."

"It pays the bills though, doesn't it?" I pointed out. "Everyone has to have a gimmick."

"But the magician's assistant is supposed to be the window dressing," she explained. "When the magician is the window-dressing to her hot assistant something is wrong."

"So you admit I'm hot?" I teased her.

"I admit nothing of the kind," she griped. "I'm speaking from the point of view of the audience."

Henrietta is a lesbian. I'm a male stripper. We do the hen party circuit as a novelty act. She comes out as the archetypal magician in top hat and tails. I come out in tight white flares and a bright purple jacket open to reveal my hairy chest and my six pack. I'm the magician's assistant, helping her to do the usual kind of tricks involving flowers and doves, then, gradually, in a series of puffs of smoke, she makes my clothes disappear until I'm down to a skin-tight pair of gold lame hot pants. Then she makes them disappear too and I spend the rest of the evening wandering amongst the horny guests, getting my cock wanked and sucked, and usually ending up fucking at least two of the bride-to-be's friends, or even the lady herself, while all the others watch and cheer.

"At least tonight there's a chance you might pick up," I pointed out. "The party consists of the staff from Rug-Munchers Are Us porn site."


"Don't be naive," she sneered. "They're not real lesbians. It's just a job."

"Some of the photographers might be," I suggested.

"Well, they didn't hire a female stripper, now did they?" she asked, perspicaciously.

"This is true," I admitted.

"Anyway," she bemoaned, "it's hard for a dom like myself to find a girl who knows how to take orders."

"There are those who want a woman who takes the upper-hand in the bedroom," I smiled. "There are rather less who are looking for fucking Ilsa, She-Wolf of the SS."

"Just 'cause you're such a wimp," she grumbled. "Letting women push you around."

"It's kind of part of the job," I replied.

We were going to start the show in about ten minutes. While Henrietta unpacked her gear in the dressing room I went to speak to the woman who had hired us. Sharon Sappho (clearly not the name she was born with) was a gorgeous, full-figured black woman in a leopard skin mini-dress with a low-cut top which showed off a huge expanse of breast.

"I run the site and I'm the principle photographer," she explained. "Don't be fooled by my last name. I'm no lesbian, but I have an image to support. I like photographing women. I have an eye for a sexy shot of two girls enjoying each other, but when I'm at home I like a nice hairy man between my legs." She brushed her hand across my deliberately cultivated five o'clock shadow.


"So, who's the lucky lady?" I asked, looking around at the room full of gorgeous young women.

"Lucky?" she asked. "Oh, you mean the one who's getting hitched. That's Maureen. She's the skinny blonde in the pink dress."

"So is anyone here a lesbian?" I asked.

"Gertrude and Keiko are," she explained. "So don't expect them to go drooling on your cock. The rest of them are pretty much into anything. I'm the only one who doesn't eat out at the Y."

When I got back to the dressing room and began getting into my costume - I already had my gold shorts on under my jeans - Henrietta was still in a bad mood.

"For ten years I've been studying Houdini's escape routines," she told me, for the umpteenth time. "I know how to re-enact every one of them. But does anyone want me to do that? No. They just want me to make your clothes disappear."

"I'm sure we can find some way for you to do that kind of act," I tried to reassure her. "But not in front of a bunch of horny women."

She just grunted as she put on her hat.

"Wow! You really keep everything in here!" I exclaimed, looking through her massive bag of tricks, once I had my coat on. There was a big fake saw, a giant sized pack of cards, a straight-jacket...

"That's one of my Houdini props," she explained, her mood lifting with the opportunity to talk about her main obsession. "See. If you tie the knots this way, someone from the audience can pull on them and they seem tight, but they can easily be undone by rubbing against the back of the chair."


"Ingenious," I declared.

Soon we were on stage and going through the boring magic part of the show. For me the fun began as my clothes came off. Unfortunately I can't tell you how we do that part of the act. It's a trade secret.

Once I was down to my shorts, the audience were going wild. Sharon in particular was whooping and hollering.

"Let's see your dick, you dirty boy!" she shouted, pulling down the front of her little dress on one side and shaking one of her massive mammaries at me. Even at that distance I could see that the nipple was stiff.

Finally, my shorts were gone in a puff of smoke. I grabbed the base of my ten-inches and swung it around like a plane propellor as I strode out into the audience. I knew that Sharon was going to get the bulk of my attention, but I had to make sure all the girls, except Gertrude and Keiko, got their share, especially the blushing bride-to-be.

I walked up to Maureen, who was indeed blushing, and pushed my swollen but still floppy cock down the cleavage of her dress. She giggled, pushed her small boobs together and licked my belly-button.

Feeling the skin of my cock brush slowly between the softness of her breasts caused it to stiffen somewhat. She grabbed it in her sweaty hand and planted a chaste kiss on its head.


When I turned around and saw that two of the girls, a short redhead and a brunette with lots of tattoos were staring at my cock and had their hands down each others panties, I became rampantly erect. Seeing girls get really turned on, thats what does it for me. I walked up to them and let them suck long and hard on my dick. Once their lips were finished with me they couldn't wait to lick the taste of my cock off of each other's tongues.

And so I worked my way around the room, enjoying the feel of hands and tongues on my rampant member. I deliberately left Sharon until last as I was determined to fuck her in front of all of her staff. And I really hoped I'd be able to get her as naked as myself. She might not be as used to showing off her gorgeous body as the models were, but I could tell she wanted to.

"It took you long enough," complained Sharon, as I sidled up to her.

"Just saving the best until last," I smiled.

"You ain't kidding," she chuckled, and then stuck out her long pink tongue and ran it up the length of my prick. She fondled my balls and sucked on my shaft like she was Lawrence of Arabia sucking on an ice-cold popsicle. She also fondled my arse cheeks. I don't know if she did that like Lawrence of Arabia or not.


"Have your employees ever seen you naked?" I asked, pulling her to her feet.

"No," she replied.

"Well, they are just about to," I grinned, as I slid the straps of her dress over her shoulders and set her lovely big boobs free.

"I don't mind being nude," she laughed. "Just as long as you take full advantage of me."

"Oh, I intend to," I reassured her. "Don't you worry about that."

Off came her dress and down came her panties. They were soaking wet. Without them, her shaven pussy was dribbling its excitement down the inside of her spread thighs. I walked around behind her and spanked her big brown ass cheeks, first with my right hand and then with my stiff prick.

"Fuck her like she fucked us on the last employee contract negotiations," yelled out Gertrude.

"Hey," cried Sharon, as I bent her down and slid my cock deep into her dripping wet pussy, "there's plenty more cunt-licking sluts where you came from."

"Just kidding, boss," chuckled Gertrude. "I'm jealous. I dream of doing you with a strap-on."

I don't think she was the only one who fancied the boss. Several more girls had pulled off their panties and were wanking as they watched me pound her pussy.


I looked briefly over at the stage were Henrietta was looking at her watch.

Sharon cried out and started quivering all over in a body-shaking orgasm. One of the rules of these kinds of shows is that everyone has to get to see the cum shot, so I pulled out, lay her down across a table and began jacking off. She grinned and licked her lips as she saw me sliding my hand up and down my cock.

"Oh, yeah, baby!" I screamed as I shot spurt after spurt of creamy cum all over Sharon's belly and boobs. Some of it even reached her lips, which she licked clean hungrily. She looked so beautifully wanton laying back with her legs spread, her wet pussy on display and her brown-skinned body splashed with puddles of white cum.

I was determined that the party wasn't going to end there though.

"Guess what?" I addressed the crowd, standing there with a string of jism dangling from the tip of my now wilting cock. "Henrietta fancies herself as a female Houdini. Who wants to see her escape act?"

Everyone seemed a little bewildered, especially Henrietta, but I had them in the palm of my hand.

Soon Henrietta as tied up in her straight jacket, sitting on a chair in the middle of the stage. I was still naked, as was Sharon, who was licking my cum off of her boobs.

"Henrietta will escape from her bondage within five minutes," I announced. "If she fails to do this in the required time she will be eaten by sharks... Hmmmm. Damn. No sharks.... Well, she has to escape or else. We'll leave it at that."

She writhed around in the chair for a moment and then looked at me with some annoyance.

"You've tied the knots the wrong way," she complained.

"Uh, uh," I shook my head with an evil grin. "I've tied the knots the right way, instead of the wrong way you wanted me to."

"I can't get out of this," she told me.

"I know you can't," I informed her. Then I bent down and unzipped her pants and pulled them off.

"What are you doing?" she cried.

"Getting my revenge for all the whining I've had to put up with from you this evening," I replied, grabbing the sides of her white Cottontail panties and pulling them off to reveal her pert pink cunt and landing strip of dark pubes.

"Well, ladies," I addressed the room. "It looks like the lovely Henrietta, who is a very lascivious lesbian, is completely at your mercy. She has a truly lovely cunt, and she tells me there's a rabbit up there somewhere. Does anyone feel like helping to find it?"


Keiko was the first up on stage. She got down on her hands and knees and shoved her face between Henrietta's legs and lapped away at her pussy.

"I'll get you for this, you prick!" Henrietta spat at me.

I knew that she liked to see hot naked women, so I made my way around the room, teasing all the rest of the girls out of their clothes. Most were happy to part with their attire in return for the opportunity to lick their boss's cunt-juice off of my cock. Soon all that sucking and the opportunity to fondle all those nude girls meant that my cock was once more rock hard.

Ten girls took turns to lick Henrietta's clit and finger her horny hole. She was deeply humiliated by her predicament. All the more so because she'd already had five orgasms and made a big puddle on the floor.

Then someone came up with the bright idea of laying her out so that one girl could lick her out and finger her while another could ride her face. Gertrude, who, along with Keiko, had stripped naked without any help or encouragement from myself, sat her lovely pink bottom on Henrietta's face and rubbed her cunt all over the poor woman's prominent nose. The molested magician licked out the juicy box which was drenching her pretty face in hopes that such a strategy would more quickly relieve her of its presence. But her strategy proved a poor one as, no soon did Gertrude squeal and squirt, than her place was taken by Maureen.

By the end of the evening, every girl except for Sharon had ravished Henrietta with her horny cunt. She was laying back exhausted and drenched in girl cum.


I walked over to Sharon and asked her if she thought she'd got her money's worth.

"You can say that again!" she exclaimed. "This show made my porn site seem positively tame."

I fondled her nude bum and she stroked my stiff cock while we made plans to meet up back at her place after the girl's had had their night on the town. She wanted me in her bed that night, and I couldn't think of anywhere else I wanted to be.

"I suppose I better set Henrietta free now," I smiled and walked back up onto the stage.

Henrietta is a gorgeous woman. I'd always fancied her. But, given her aversion to the masculine member, I had never thought I'd get to see her pussy.

"You can't honestly tell me you didn't enjoy that," I grinned cheekily. "Watching it certainly turned me on."

"You're a fucking arsehole," she grumbled.

"God you look gorgeous all trussed up like that," I leered. "What a lovely cunt you have."

My cock jerked up and down in its stiffness as I gently caressed her leg.

"Don't you dare!" she cried. "I don't do dick!"

"You're telling me," I responded. "It's me who has to do all the work."

I turned her over and untied the knots that held the straight-jacket secured. Then I turned her onto her back and deliberately held my stiff cock just about two inches away from her disgusted face as I pulled off the sleeves.

"Get that revolting thing away from me," she insisted.

"So what's it like to have the shoe on the other foot for a change?" I asked.

"O.K. So I came a few times," she huffed. "But I don't need any new fetishes. I'm perverted enough as it is."

"I think we both did well out of tonight. I'm hooking up with Sharon the pornographer later this evening," I told her with a smug grin.

"I wonder if we could come up with a new magic routine in which I saw your cock off on stage," Henrietta replied.

The End


Thursday, November 17, 2011

Tommy the Naked Chef : An Aussiescribbler VidCapToon

Here is another of my old VidCapToons - a little comic strip I made from pictures captured from a video at Girls Out West. You'll need to click on it and see it full size to be able to read the words.




Tuesday, November 15, 2011

The Indecent Descent : Wank Wednesday


Today's Wank Wednesday word is #cave. One thinks initially of cavemen or a pirate's cave. At least I do. But I've already done a caveman story and a pirate story. So I've decided to go for some sinisterly sexy spelunking. Wank Wednesday has moved. It is now hosted from Word Ejaculation. Check out that site for more information on this writing challenge and for links to all the stories.

The Indecent Descent




When Terence told the innkeeper that they were intending to crawl up Carnahan's Crack, the normally noisy patrons in the front bar of the Turd and Toadstool fell eerily silent and all eyes fell upon the trio of would-be subterranean explorers.

"Know ye not of the terrible tale of the fate of the eight," gasped the old man.

"No," replied Terence cooly, "do tell." He was a smarmy bastard.

Monty and Rosemary leaned close. They were nervous about the expedition to begin with. Monty had been cave-diving a few times, and his claustrophobia was not as severe has it had been at the start. But that was in tourist caves which had been thoroughly explored and mapped. Rosemary was Terence's wife. Like him she was in her mid-thirties and very fit. She had short mousey hair around her pretty wide-eyed face, small but well-formed breasts and a firm round arse. Monty fancied her rotten, but was too loyal to his friend, and to his own rather demanding (but non-cave-exploring) fiancée Margaret, to do anything about it.

"It were three year ago next Tuesday," continued Old Gruntwhistle, the publican. "Four men and four women there were. Experienced cave-divers by all accounts. They wriggled their way up through the tight entrance of Carnahan's Crack, one at a time, intending to explore the bowels of the Earth - the biggest network of caverns in all of England according to legend. They went in... but they never came out."

"What happened to them?" asked Rosemary anxiously.

"Nobody knows," pronounced the old man, drawing the words out so that they sounded like the wind whistling across a deserted moor.

"They probably didn't take proper precautions," said Terence. "I'm sure we'll be fine. I've been caving dozens of times. I know what I'm doing."

"There are those who say they ain't dead," Gruntwhistle added, looking around at his audience of petrified pub patrons. "There are those who say that ain't just a cave. There are those who say that Carnahan's Crack is the very gates of Hell itself. They be the one's what have heard them."

"Heard who?" Monty wanted to know.

"Heard the voices echoing out of the crack and up through the mine shafts about these parts. Not really voices so much as the howls and moans of the damned," he continued, poking Terence in the chest with a bony finger.

"I don't think I want to go any more," whimpered Rosemary.

"Me neither," Monty added.

"Stuff and nonsense," declared Terence. "Good for business in these parts, no doubt. Just like the Loch Ness Monster. Don't be taken in."

"It be no skin off my nose," huffed Gruntwhistle. "But you'll pay for last night's accommodation now. If you leave anything in your rooms I be happy to forward it to your next of kin. Just leave an address."

*           *           *
"We can't go in there after what that innkeeper said," complained Rosemary when, loaded down with packs and ropes, the trio arrived at Carnahan's Crack just after nightfall.

"I told you not to pay any attention to that old fool's ramblings," Terence replied testily.

"I think Rosemary's right," Monty put in. "We are only doing this for fun. And it isn't fun anymore."

"Well, I'm going in there anyway," insisted Terence. "If you two want to wait here for me you are welcome."

Monty and Rosemary looked around them. It was a new moon so there wasn't much light by which to see the trees of the forest. But amidst the shadows, red eyes shone out at them and they heard a low growl. Wolves.

"Maybe we could wait for you just inside the entrance to the cave," suggested Rosemary.

Carnahan's Crack was a crevice between two mighty boulders. There was a small round hole in the middle of the crevice by which one could wriggle up into a cave that was about two metres across. In the middle was the opening of a pit which dropped straight down into the earth. How deep it was was anybody's guess.


Terence was the first to push his way through the tight squeeze into the cave. Then Rosemary thrust her hands in and began to ease her way forward. She got part way in and then paused. Monty was looking nervously over his shoulder at the wolves when he heard Rosemary's voice. She was yelling to him, but  the sound didn't carry well back through the tight passage.

"I'm stuck," she cried. "You'll have to give me a push, Monty."

Monty put his hands on the lycra-clad cheeks of her round bottom and pushed. Rosemary moved through the passage and Monty's cock stiffened in his pants. That was going to make it harder for him to follow her through the tight space.

Thinking quickly Monty tied a length of rope around himself to keep his boner from becoming snagged on a rock. Then he stuck his head into the hole, worrying that, if he were not quick, the wolves might eat his legs.

Rosemary and Terence grabbed his arms and pulled him swiftly into the cave. The space was lit by Terence's powerful flashlight.

"So we'll wait for you here," said Rosemary. "Don't be long."

"Cowards," cursed Terence, tying a rope about his waist and then affixing the other end to a stalagmite.  "I told you I know what I'm doing. You'd be just as safe coming with me." Then he climbed over the edge and began making his way, hand over hand, down the side of the pit.

It was only two minutes later that the stalagmite broke, the rope snaked rapidly down the hole and Terence's girlish scream gradually faded away as he plummeted into the abyss.

"Fuck," cried Rosemary. "Now I suppose we'll have to try to rescue him."

"How are we going to do that?" asked Monty.

"You hold the end of my rope," Rosemary instructed. "I'll lower myself down."

All was going well until Rosemary reached the bottom of the pit and found that it opened into a giant cavern. Monty was able to hold her weight as long as it was lessened by her feet being propped against the side of the pit, but once she dropped into open air, he could no longer keep his balance and he fell head long down the hole.

Rosemary landed first and a short while later Monty came down on top of her. They landed on something soft and spongy. Terence's flashlight loomed up out of the dark to show them that they were sitting on the top of a giant mushroom.


"Spot of luck, hey!" exclaimed Terence, cheerfully.

"I don't know why you're so chipper," replied Rosemary angrily. "How are we supposed to get out? We'll die down here."

"We came for an adventure," he retorted. "And now we've got one. We'll find a way out. The old man mentioned mine shafts. Mine shafts often have ladders."

"I hope you're right," put in Monty nervously.

There were many passages leading out of the great cavern. They picked the one with the biggest entrance and followed it, Terence leading the way with his flashlight. Gradually the walls closed in around them until they could go no further.

"Dead end," pronounced Terence.

They turned around and went back.

Terence examined the openings of the other passages. One, which was very narrow, opened out after a few metres.

"We'll try this one," he said. And so they squeezed in after him.

For several hours they crawled through the tight space, the cold damp stone pressing in all around them. Then, finally, it opened out into another cave.

Terence scanned the area with his flashlight. Rosemary and Monty screamed at what they saw.

There, laid out carefully on the stone floor, were four skeletons.

"These must be the ones the innkeeper was talking about," cried Monty.

"But there were eight of them," pointed out Rosemary.

"The rest must be somewhere else," said Terence.

"Unless they are still alive," suggested a quaking Rosemary.

"Hogwash!" Terence exclaimed. "No-one could survive down here for three years."

Monty felt a tingle run down his spine and he looked nervously behind him.

Since this was another dead end, they made their way back to the large cavern and decided to eat some of their sandwiches and try to get some sleep.

Monty lay down on top of one of the giant mushrooms, with a flashlight beside him, and tried to sleep. But he was too anxious. Sleep wouldn't come. He could tell that Terence was not having the same problem because he could hear him snoring loudly.

Sleep did eventually wash over Monty, but he was awoken a couple of hours later by a blood-curdling scream. He grabbed his flashlight and flicked the switch. The beam of light shot up the pit down which they had fallen. He quickly scanned it around the walls of the cavern and was just in time to see Terence's horrified face disappearing down the passage they had last explored. He was being dragged feet first by someone or something.

Monty could sense something moving on the other side of cavern. He whipped the flashlight around and what he saw in its beam seriously creeped him out.

A skinny pale figure with tangled hair was watching him with big green eyes. It was a woman, a naked woman. At least, he could tell that it had once been a woman. Now it was something bestial. She had a face of haunting beauty, with eyes like glittering emeralds, but her mouth formed an idiot grin and she was drooling. As Monty moved the beam of the flashlight down her body he discover that she was crouched over a small, rather phallic, stalagmite and sliding her juicy cunt up and down its length.

"Rosemary," he cried. "I think we're fucked now."

But Rosemary was gone. He was alone with the creature.

She licked her lips and played with the stiff nipples on her nearly flat chest. And then she spoke.

"Precious want to fuck?" she hissed.

"Nothing personal," stammered Monty. "Must decline. Engaged you know."

"Precious gonna fuck," insisted the creature with an evil smile as she crawled on hands and knees across the cave floor.

"My God!" exclaimed Monty. "Is that the time? Must be off." But there was nowhere to go.


She leapt up onto his mushroom like a hairless monkey and the next thing he knew his clothes were being shredded by sharp teeth and long fingernails.

"Precious has cock," she hissed. "Sharon like cock."

Sharon, thought Monty. That was the name of one of the four women who went missing. So it was true. Not all of the eight were dead.

Monty was scared. He was scared stiff. All of his resolve flowed straight to his cock while the rest of him went limp.

Sharon's clit stood out prominently from between the hairless-lips of her pussy. She moaned as she rubbed it up and down the length of Monty's stiffness and dribbled pussy juice all over it. Once she had enjoyed this appetiser she applied herself to the main meal. She wrapped her bony hand around his throbbing cock and impaled herself on it. It was cold deep down there beneath the earth, but the inside of Sharon's cunt was as hot as a furnace.

"Precious has a nice hard cock," she hissed. "Long time no fuck. Pussy-licking not as good as fucking Precious."

Monty's brain ticked over. No cock. So the men had not survived. And she hadn't been licking her own pussy. So at least one of the other women had. But what had turned a normal woman into this thing?

Sharon had thrown her head back as she bounced up and down on his cock. She was pinching her nipples. Monty was surprised that, though she was quite skinny, her bottom as it sat down repeatedly on his thighs, was soft rather than bony. She might have been monstrous and sub-human but she was a hot little number all the same.

It didn't take her long to cum. A couple of minutes of rutting and she squirted a litre of pussy juice all over his cock and balls. But that didn't stop her. She just kept going. She went straight into another orgasm and another and another.

"Sharon's cunt love Precious," she hissed.

But Monty's stamina was not so great. After she had her tenth orgasm he couldn't hold back any longer and he jizzed in her juicy hole.

"Want more, Precious," she hissed, grabbing his floppy jissom-coated prick and slapping it back and forth.

"I'm all in," panted Monty.

"Want more!" insisted Sharon, anger possessing her features.

Monty improvised. He grabbed her, threw her down on his mushroom bed, and began wanking her off with three fingers.

"Want cock!" she insisted, petulantly, but she didn't put up any resistance.

"What made you like this?" asked Monty.

"Mushrooms," smiled Sharon. "Mushrooms delicious."

"You ate the mushrooms and they changed you?" asked Monty.

"Girls eat mushrooms. Guys see what mushrooms do to girls. Guys no eat mushrooms. Girls fuck guys. Guys die. Stupid guys," she explained.

"You fucked them to death?" cried Monty.

"Precious be smart," she hissed. "Precious eat mushrooms."

"Where are my companions?" he asked, as she quivered and squirmed and squirted over and over again, drenching his fingers in her hot juice.

"Don't know," she replied.

At that point another creature appeared from the passage into which Terence had disappeared. Another was behind her and as she emerged she dragged Terence's corpse behind her.

"He broke," the creature hissed sadly.

"Oh, my God!" cried Monty.

Then, out of another passage emerged the fourth creature, dragging Rosemary. Rosemary was stark naked and tied up with her own climbing ropes.

"Help me, Monty!" she cried. "She tied me up and did lesbian things to me!"

"Let her go!" Monty insisted to the three creatures as they squatted around the cavern drooling and masturbating and staring at him hungrily. "Fuck me to death if you must, but let the woman I love go free!"

"The woman you love?" queried Rosemary.

"I can hide it no longer," Monty insisted. "Though you loved another, my heart was ever yours."

"Just don't let them lick my hoo-hah any more," Rosemary pleaded.

"Eat mushroom!" ordered Sharon.

So Monty tore off a big piece from the side of the fungus on which he had been fornicating and shoved it into his mouth. It actually tasted surprisingly good.

Once he had swallowed it, Monty began to feel strange. An energy suffused his body, an over-whelming feeling of bliss possessed his mind and his cock got as hard as an iron bar.

"Coooooooorrrrrrrrrrr!" he groaned. "Precious want pussy."

He grabbed Sharon, flipped her over and started pounding her hard doggy-style, while pawing lustily at her tiny tits.

"Oh, Precious!" hissed Sharon.

Monty came hard, squirting quarts of cock-juice into the carnal cave-dweller's cunt. But his dick was still hard.

What was left of his mind wondered about freeing Rosemary. He hopped off the mushroom and crawled over to her.

I'd better untie these ropes, he thought. They probably hurt as they rub against her stiff pink nipples and push into the soft white flesh of her heavenly boobs. The way the rope rubs through the crack of her arse, right between the saucy cheeks of her spankable bum, chafing against her cute little wrinkled butt-hole and sliding roughly between the succulent lips of her cunt, must be uncomfortable, he reasoned. God he wanted to fuck her!



"What are you doing!?!" she screamed as he rubbed his cum-slippery hard cock all over her thigh. But there was nothing she could do. She was defenceless.

Monty crawled back over to the mushroom and grabbed another handful.

"Precious wants to fuck Rosemary," he hissed.

"You said you were going to let me go," she insisted, looking at him with pleading frightened eyes.

"Precious changed mind," he shrugged, pushing the handful of mushroom into her mouth.

Reluctantly she swallowed. Then he began untying her bonds. As he did, a profound change came over her.

When she was free, Rosemary smiled a big goofy smile, lay back, spread her legs and began happily wanking.

"Rosemary's a slut," she giggled. "Rosemary's always been a slut."

"Always?" queried Monty.

"Always," she insisted. "But now that I'm in the cave, I'm out of the closet." She pushed her left boob to her face and began happily sucking on the nipple.

"Precious wants his cock sucked," hissed Monty.

"Oh, Precious," Rosemary hissed back, crawling over to him and licking her soft wet tongue up the length of his rigid rod.

"One of us! One of us!" chanted the other girls. Monty thought of them as girls now, rather than as creatures. They all came in close for a group hug and grope and lick and fondle.

Monty realised that returning to the surface would be impossible now. The mushroom could sustain them, but it was addictive, he could tell. Controlling their sexuality was an impossibility now. He couldn't walk around with a permanent erection unable to keep himself from fondling and trying to fuck every woman in sight.

He knew that he would live out his life underground, but as he felt a sexy tongue licking his balls and another probing his butt-hole and felt wet pussies squirting their juices all over his body as they told him how much they loved "their Precious", he decided that he had no choice but to cave in to their demands and make the most of it.

The End

Friday, November 11, 2011

For 2 Weeks from Today You Can Get Bitten for Free!

As a special bonus for followers of this blog, you can use the coupon code HY82M to get a free copy of my re-vamped (geddit?) edition of the Transylvanian Roulette ebook from Smashwords. As well as the titular vampire parody, of which I have only posted a brief excerpt here on the blog, the book contains two of my horror-themed Twitterotica stories - A Man of Many Parts (called Bolt here) and Voodoo (called Pin here).

If you like the stories, or any of the other ebooks on my Smashwords page, some of them always free, please leave a comment and star rating.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Book Review : CFNM Princess by Cassie Caine


CFNM stands for Clothed Female Nude Male. It is a popular fetish in which women enjoy the power of being clothed while a man or men around them are naked and the men enjoy being treated as sex objects by the women who feel emboldened and disinhibited by their power advantage.

This fetish seems to be particularly popular in Britain. Many of the most popular CFNM porn sites on the net are British. And, apparently, CFNM parties are quite popular there too.

Cassie Caine is a British photographer who specialises in the male nude. And she also writes CFNM stories.

CFNM Princess is the tale of Michelle, a budding photographer who feels there is a buzz missing from her sex life until, one day at a party, a man loses a bet and has to parade around nude in front of everyone. She photographs this event and starts to discover a special excitement as she finds him getting aroused by her attention. From here their relationship develops as each uncovers a previously undreamt of aspect of their nature.

This novel does go to some places that I would not want to go in reality, such as :

Pegging - a man being fucked up the ass by a woman wearing a strap-on

One's erection being used as a perch by a sharp-clawed macaw

But I don't mind reading about these things. I like horror stories as much as the next person. Seriously though it is a credit to the author that she can get the reader so wrapped up in the story and so on-side with the heroine that it doesn't matter if she sometimes goes beyond one's comfort zone.

On the other hand there are some scenes in this book which I found a tremendous turn-on. What makes it particularly appealing is the enthusiasm of our cheeky heroine as she takes full advantage of her adoring male victim.

Cassie Caine has another book out called CFNM Goddess. I look forward to checking that one out soon.

These books are available from Smashwords.

Cassie Caine also has a blog.

Not surprising that guys wanted to get their gear off for Ms. Caine!

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

The Spy Who Came : Wank Wednesday


It's Wank Wednesday once more, and today the prompt word is #recipe. To find out more about this writing challenge, and to read the other contributions, check out Ruby Kiddell's Erotic Notebook.

The Spy Who Came




The year was 1955. The place - Louisville, Kentucky. Natasha Suckyanobov was on her most important, and potentially dangerous, mission yet.

It was the height of the Cold War, and Natasha was devoted to the cause of global Communism. There was no reason, she had been led to believe, why her people - the people of the Soviet Union - could not enjoy all of the benefits which were enjoyed by the citizens of western nations like the United States. It was her job to use her powers of seduction to liberate the information which would make this possible.

She was particularly good with accents. As she sat in the Purple Parrot Lounge, sipping a strawberry daiquiri, she chatted with the barman in a perfect southern accent.

At 8.17 her target entered the bar.

"How's it going, Harland?" enquired the barman of the distinguished gentleman with white hair, glasses and goatee.

"Mighty fine! Mighty fine!" he replied. "Give me the usual."

The barman poured out a double bourbon.

"Perhaps I could buy something for the lady, too," he suggested, with a naughty twinkle in his eye.

"Why, thank you kindly, good sir," drawled Natasha, as he sat down on the next barstool.

Well, one thing led to another and an hour later Natasha and the man referred to in official Soviet documents as "H.S." were back in her hotel room.

"So, are you one of the Lexington Sackville's?" H.S. asked.

"I'm the one they don't talk about," purred Natasha.

"I wondered why I hadn't heard about you," he told her, as he removed his trousers, to reveal a pair of baggy boxer shorts draped around a massive erection.

"Well, you are glad to see me," she smiled.

"A gentleman always stands for a lady," he replied, pulling down his boxers and giving her an eyeful of his bountiful boner.

Natasha was now standing in just her black silk bra and panties. In her underwear she was the spitting image of Betty Page.


"So are you really a military man?" she asked. "Because that's quite a weapon you have there." She walked over and ran her finger tenderly down the length of his cock.

"No," he replied. "My title is purely an honorary one."

Natasha sank to her knees and took H.S.'s cock in her mouth, licking and sucking on it hungrily. "Mmmmm, mmmmm," she sighed, popping it back out again. "Taste's delicious."

She stripped off her last garments and lay back on the bed with her legs spread.

"Come and get it," she smiled.

H.S. climbed up onto the bed and slid a couple of fingers deep into her wet pussy. He rubbed her clit at the same time with his thumb. And he kissed her passionately as he wanked her off. His beard tickled her chin.

"Oh, God! I'm cumming!" she cried, almost losing her accent in her ecstasy.

He pulled his fingers out of her cunt and licked the juice from them.

"Mmmmmm. Mmmmmm. Finger lickin' good," he sighed.

Then he pressed her back onto the bed so that her full breasts were squashed against his manly chest as he slid his cock home into her lubricated love lounge. Her cunt juice basted his balls as he began to pound her pussy long and hard with his pulsating prick which was also long and hard.

"Oh, yeah," she sighed. "Fuck me like a good member of the proletariat."

"I beg your pardon?" queried H.S., as he continued to probe her pussy with his prodigious member.

"Errr, I just said, 'Don't you love that TV show Ozzie and Harriet'," she stammered.

"You're a strange, but very sexy, woman," he declared. "Oh, yeah, honey chile, here it comes!" And with that he spurted several jets of hot spunk deep within the pussy of his secretly sinister lover.

That night he fell asleep in her arms, but he awoke to find himself tied spread-eagled to the bed. She was approaching him threateningly with a feather. He could stand anything but tickling. How did she know?

An hour later Natasha was communicating by radio with her bosses in Moscow.

"I have the secret recipe," she informed them. "Yes, that's right. All eleven herbs and spices."

The End


Saturday, October 22, 2011

Sleeping Beauty and Prince Pervert : A Sunday Snog



The Sunday Snog is an institution created by Victoria Blisse. The idea is to post a snogging scene from one of your books (or create a new one). For more information check out her blog. Today's snog is an original.


Sleeping Beauty and Prince Pervert




Once upon a time, Prince Pervert was riding his mighty black steed through the magic forest, when he came to a large clearing. There, in the middle of the open space, dappled by the golden rays of sunlight which filtered down through the leaves, lay the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She lay upon a bed of stone which was carved to support each curve of her very curvy body. And she was dressed in the opulent gown of a princess.


This was Sleeping Beauty. Many years before a witch had put a curse on her that she would sleep for eternity, unless a prince should kiss her upon the lips.


"Wake up, Miss," said the Prince, shaking Beauty's shoulder. She made no response. The Prince could feel that she was alive. He could feel her pulse. But she seemed to be in some kind of coma.


"This is a situation I can turn to my advantage," the evil Prince said to himself. His nickname had not come to him for no reason. He had earned it by his many depraved actions.


Much as he admired Beauty's dress, he was more keen to admire what lay beneath it, and so he slowly stripped her naked, lovingly fondling each newly revealed expanse of soft, pale flesh. She had the most gorgeous breasts, like big scoops of vanilla ice-cream topped with strawberries. She had a gently curving belly with a cute little button in the middle. And her pussy lips were fat and pink, decorated by a forest of pubes which shone in the sun like spun gold. And her sleep must have been accompanied by sexy dreams, because a creamy juice leaked from between them. The Prince gently turned her over to admire the peachy cheeks of her snow white bottom. And he kissed it gently. There was nothing of roughness in his behaviour, shameless pervert that he was. He would spy on women when they thought they were fucking or masturbating unobserved, he would expose himself to nuns,  he would masturbate into old lady's panties and then put them back on the clothesline, but physical violence was abhorrent to him.


"If she's in a coma," surmised the Prince, "she's not going to know anything about it if I fuck her. It'll do her no harm and me a lot of good, since seeing her naked body has made my cock quite painfully stiff."


And so he stripped naked and mounted Sleeping Beauty. Her slippery pussy seemed to welcome his hot and throbbing prick as he slid it home with a sigh of satisfaction.


The fact that she made no response, but lay limply beneath him, would have been off-putting to a lesser man. But when something felt sick or wrong, to Prince Pervert that just added to the appeal. And soon he was arching his back and shooting his load deep within Beauty's warm and wet, if unresponsive, pussy.



"Thank you, Miss, for giving me such pleasure on this fine morning," said the Prince, rhetorically.


Then he made a big mistake. Looking down at Beauty's plump ruby red lips, he decided that he should top off his pleasures by pressing his own lips against them. Still naked, he bent down, slid his hand gently beneath her flaxen hair and brought his moustachioed lips down upon hers. The feel of those sweet lips against his was a pleasure which eclipsed that of her other lips against his cock. There was magic in that kiss.


And then the Prince's heart nearly stopped in shock, when Beauty's sapphire blue eyes shot opened, and her lips also opened, allowing her soft wet tongue to invade his mouth. Beauty was quite the snogger.


But then, as they pulled away from each other, she looked down at the Prince's body with some shock.


"Why are you naked!?!" she cried. "And why is your cock dripping with cum?" And then she looked down her own body. "And why am I naked!?! And why is there cum all over my pussy?"


"It's not what it looks like," replied the Prince desperately.


"You fucked me, didn't you!?!" screamed Beauty. "You prick!!! You fucked a girl in a coma!!!!" Then she grabbed the Prince by his ornate collar and slapped his face hard. And then she used her other hand and slapped him equally hard with that one.


The Prince leapt to his feet and ran off into the forest with the naked Beauty in hot pursuit. Since she had been asleep for 20 years, she was well-rested, while the Prince was all worn out from fucking her. So quite quickly he collapsed against a tree and she caught up with him. She kicked his shins, she punched him in the face, and she even slapped his cock.


"Oh, yeah," moaned the Prince. "Hit me more. Hit me more. I love it." And sure enough his cock was growing really stiff once more. He really was an all around pervert.




"It's very, very wrong to fuck a girl while she is asleep," Beauty insisted. "A gentleman always wakes a girl up first so that she can enjoy it too."


"I didn't know I could wake you up," pleaded the Prince.


"Ignorance is no excuse," Beauty told him, smacking the head of his cock so that it waved back and forth like a metronome.


"I'm truly sorry," replied the Prince, and he meant it.


"You know that I could tell your Fairy Godmother," warned Beauty. "And she would probably turn you into a pumpkin."


"How did you know I have a Fairy Godmother?" asked the Prince.


"Don't be silly," she responded. "Everyone has a Fairy Godmother."


"Well, mine is already pissed at me," the Prince confessed. "So please don't tell her."


"I think you can make things up to me," replied Beauty with an evil smile. "There are three things I really love - having my titties sucked and my clit licked ; perving at gorgeous men like yourself in the nude ; and being gangbanged. So, if you promise to orally pleasure me at least five times a day, never wear any clothes and invite your friends over every Friday night for a gangbang, you can marry me and take me back to live in your palace. If you don't your Fairy Godmother will have the whole story."


The Prince pretended that Beauty was striking a hard bargain. But, really, the only thing that was hard was his cock as he anticipated their life together.


And so they lived sleazily ever after.


The End

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Time to Fold : Wank Wednesday


Today's Wank Wednesday prompt word is #paper. To find out more about this writing challenge and to find the links to the other stories check out Ruby Kiddell's Erotic Notebook.

Time to Fold




Journal of Eccentric Sporting Tournaments (JEST), October 2011

An Interview with Sam Kensington, World Champion in the Art of Freestyle Erotogami (The Ancient Japanese Art of Sexually Explicit Paper Folding), 1970-75.

JEST : Paper folding isn't a physically demanding sport, so why retire in your mid-sixties?

Sam Kensington : That's where you'd be wrong. Sure it doesn't take strength, but it takes precision. And the truth is that I haven't folded paper publicly since I lost the championship to my future wife in Tokyo in 1975.

JEST : But you have continued to be active in the sport as tactical support for your wife.

Sam Kensington : Exactly. So my decision to bow out is really her decision to bow out. She's retiring to concentrate on composing boogie concertos for the theremin. And I have no interest in working with any other folders.

JEST : Tell us how you did end up losing your title.

Sam Kensington : It was by default actually. An injury took me out of the competition.

JEST : An injury?

Sam Kensington : Yes, a rather nasty paper cut. Mildred beat out the rest of the competition. But let it be known that I have no doubt she would have beaten me. It was her first year of competition and she was, and has always been, a genius when it comes to making paper penises. My specialty, of course, was vaginas. And it was a conflict on this very issue which constituted our first intercourse. Verbal intercourse, of course.

JEST : She was not keen on your vaginas?

Sam Kensington : Well she thought they were too easy. 'Sam,' she said to me, 'it just won't do. That's just a salt cellar with one of the corner's bent over.' 'That's the clitoris,' I explained, 'and the two sides are the labia.' 'But the clitoris is in the wrong place and the whole thing is split two ways,' she insisted. 'Vagina's aren't.' 'Well,' I replied. 'It looks more like a vagina than it looks like a salt cellar.' 'Well, they never really did look like salt cellars, did they?' she agreed. 'I'm not sure where that came from.'


JEST : She specialised in penises?

Sam Kensington : That's right. All kinds of penises - flaccid, erect, circumcised - she could make them out of a single piece of paper. 'Sam,' she insisted, 'my penises don't come easy. Sometimes I have to work on them all day long.' I had to admit that they did make my vaginas look kind of wet by comparison.

JEST : And out of this argument over the relative artistic value of masculine vs. feminine paper genitalia sprang true love?

Sam Kensington : If our story had been a Hollywood movie, they would have described it as a "meet cute" beginning.

JEST : But you had a secret up your sleeve, even if you were out of the competition.

Sam Kensington : That's right. Of course the sensible thing would have been to keep it to myself and use it to win the next year. My secret was that I was not planning on making a vagina in the competition. The year before I'd made a secret trip to Hokkaido to meet with a Zen monk who knew the secret of single sheet copulation. It seems impossible, but it isn't. If you know the secret you can create a couple fucking doggy-style from a single uncut sheet of paper. Not only that but, when you pull on the sides of the figure, the man's penis goes in and out of her vagina and her eyes open wide each time this happens.


JEST : We wouldn't believe it if we hadn't seen it ourselves. But what convinced you to team up with Mildred Hatrack and let her take the honour of presenting single sheet copulation at the 1976 competition in New York?

Sam Kensington : Well, I had to admire her folding ability. But it was my admiration for something else which really brought us together. Mildred was one hot potato back then. Hell, she still is. Dress is kind of conservative in the world of paper folding, but it was pretty obvious there were some serious curves hidden beneath all those clothes. I didn't think I'd get a chance to find out though as the organisers of these contests are very conservative and discourage any fraternisation in the hotel rooms. We were staying an a very old-fashioned hotel in the middle of Tokyo. It was so old-fashioned in fact that it had traditional paper walls between the guest's rooms. When I noticed Mildred going into the room next to mine, I decided to do something very reckless, something of which I would be very ashamed if it hadn't been for the fact that it was a part of the process which led to my marriage.


JEST : What was it that you did?

Sam Kensington : I cut a small hole in the paper wall so that I could watch Mildred getting undressed. What I didn't realise was that a bright blue staring eye is pretty obvious when it is all that is breaking up an expanse of white paper and some brown wooden slats. She was onto me from the very start. But she'd taken a shine to me and she was also a bit of an exhibitionist on the quiet. So she pretended not to notice me watching her as she slowly undressed. I myself was already naked. And as she shed her clothes, I had to push my penis back firmly between my legs so that I could continue to stand close to the wall as it stiffened. It wasn't comfortable, but drinking in every detail of Mildred's gorgeous pale and curvy body was my main concern. Soon she was completely starkers, her big round boobs swinging loosely, her pink nipples erect and the gentle curve of her belly and thighs perfectly framing her hairy snatch. But she was determined to put on a show I could never forget, so no sooner was she naked than she lay back on her futon and began vigorously masturbating. That was my undoing.

JEST : That's when you fell in love with her?

Sam Kensington : No, that's when my stiff prick shot from between my thighs and ripped a huge hole through the paper wall.

JEST : How did she react to that?

Sam Kensington : She leapt to her feet, ran across the room and grabbed hold of my dick with both hands. 'Now I've got you, you little pervert!' she cried, but she couldn't stop herself from giggling. At first I wasn't sure what to do. She wasn't going to let go of my dick. I pulled back, but she held on for dear life. Then it occurred to me that I might as well take advantage of the situation.

JEST : How did you do that?

Sam Kensington : After I'd pulled my dick back as far as I could, I pushed it forward again. The loose skin was held tightly in her warm soft hands, but I could push it in and out, and derive quite some pleasure from doing so. 'Are you trying to get me to wank you off?' she asked. 'As long as you keep hanging on to me like that,' I replied, 'I don't see that you have a choice.' The next thing I knew I felt something stiff and wet rubbing around the head of my dick while she tugged on it. 'What's that?' I asked. 'It's the folded over bit on my salt cellar,' she chuckled. Well, it wasn't long before my cum was hanging off her pubes like tinsel on a Christmas tree. I know because she showed me through the big cum soaked hole that now acted as a window between our rooms. So that is how our relationship began. After that we decided to team up. She would do the folding and I would travel the globe looking for the most arcane and remarkable of folding techniques.

The End