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  • Amorous Goods: The Mask
    Amorous
    Goods: The Mask
    A haunted warrior
    mask taking fruits of victory after death.

    Based

    on a post by ShowTime8.
    Listen to the
    Podcast at Explicit
    Novels.




    Prologue:

    A

    lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
    the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
    relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
    administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
    she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
    with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
    is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.

    The Mask.

    "I've

    been here nearly a week now, I promise I'm settled in.; Just let me know when
    you can come down and see the place. I'm still just trying to find this and
    that, to decorate the place with," Bethany told her friend on the phone.

    "I

    can't wait to see the new place, maybe throw a party," Tabitha asked.

    "A

    party? I don't know anybody here."

    "Never

    know. By the time I get there, you might even have a man, who has a friend or
    brother that I can hook up with, whenever I visit," Tabitha hoped.

    "Ha!;

    keep dreaming. I'll worry about a man if Mandingos batteries die when all the
    stores are closed."

    "Even

    Mandingo can't replace having some hot sweaty man-god thrusting inside you, as
    his weight presses down, breath down your neck-"

    "Stop

    that, Tabby."

    "Thrusting

    hard. Thrusting hard. Bam bam bam!
    That cum coats your walls."

    "Oh

    my god;�

    "Thrusting!"

    "I'm

    going to hang up."

    "Thrusty thrust," she laughed.

    "So

    I heard about this place that sells antiques, that I want to check out. I ran
    in to one of the employees at some farmers market, flea market thing, Dylan, I
    think his name was."

    "So

    some dusty ass store with ancient relics of crap?"

    Bethany

    sighed; "you know I like vintage stuff. The place is called Amorous Goods,
    apparently they don't just take any old junk, the owner is a collector who's
    very picky and I think he said that most of what was there was actually
    inherited to her."

    "So

    an uppity dusty ass store with ancient relics of crap."

    "Damn

    it, Tabby!"

    "Okay,

    sorry. I'm sure the place is nice. Hell if the place is that good; I might find
    something I like."

    "I'm

    going to check it out tomorrow."

    "So

    you going to play with Mandingo, now? Should I let you go?"

    "I

    still have to put my bed together and a few other things, he's always ready
    when I want him."

    "You

    really do believe that dildo is better than the real thing? Just gonna swear of
    men for good?"

    "Not

    for good, but for a good while, at least until masturbation can't stop the
    urges, then I'll get some fool and kick him out before the sun rises; if he's
    lucky."

    "I

    should probably get off here anyway, I gotta go to work and a hot stud should
    be knocking on my door soon. Tell Mandingo I said hi."

    Bethany

    looks at the piles of boxes and what unpacking is left, asking herself who
    she's kidding, all she wants to do is lay that mattress on the floor and feel
    that big veiny bastard fill her insides. With a hard defeated sigh, she makes
    her way to the bedroom, might as well get it over with. Cursing herself for getting
    such a large bed; dragging the frame pieces where she wanted them,
    painstakingly bolting it all together, cursing the design. Carrying and
    dropping in both box frames without hitting the ceiling or knocking anything
    over, she eye's the mattress with disgust snatching at the seemingly three
    hundred pound thing, flopping it across and flopping down on it. Bethany glares
    at the mirror sitting on the dresser, muttering "tomorrow".

    Bethany

    wriggles out of her jeans, kicking them to the floor, sitting up and pulling
    off her shirt, relieving her shapely tit from their constraints, flopping down
    with joy. Side-eyeing the light switch for still being on; tosses a shoe at it
    bringing darkness to the room. Rolling over to her nightstand, pulling out her
    number one fuck buddy; unwrapping it from its satin sheath. Kissing the tip,
    whispers "hello", before sliding it down her spread cleavage, rubbing
    the shaft across her lower lips, feeling the bulging veins, pressing harder
    until the friction starts to pull her lips.

    "You

    know better than that, Manny," she reached in the drawer for lube.

    Once

    lubed; she slowly pushed him in, while rubbing her clit, getting herself wet.
    Rubbing herself circular while Mandingo just sits in her, in no hurry to
    climax, closing her eyes, imagining somebody like the All State guy is working
    her over. Legs spread wide, Mandingo rarely slides out, reaching under her leg
    to give him a twist, slowly pulling him out to the tip, leaving the head
    inside, sliding back in with a shudder. One more time. Mandingo slides out to
    the head, her fingers press hard on her clit during the return, soften on the
    pull out, pressure and push, relent and remove. Pressure and push. Relent and
    remove. She struggles to catch her breath, her legs drop, scooping up on of her
    tit in a tight squeeze, Bethany closes her legs around Mandingo while dragging
    it in and out. It's veins rub against her clit, her body now on auto-pilot,
    mind zoned out, climax building to its peak, snapping her back to reality. A
    deep gasp for air, exhaled from deep within her. Rolling over to her side,
    Mandingo still in her, she passes out.

    Bethany

    wakes up midafternoon, giving Mandingo the side eye, making her way to the
    bathroom with him, to wash him off. Brunette hair in a tussle; shambling, decides
    to take it in the shower, contemplating round two as she soaped him down,
    forcing the urges away, rinsing and tossing him in the sink to dry, a sigh with
    her decision. Out of the shower, dried off, thrown on clothes, kicking boxes to
    freedom. Pulling in the small parking lot of Amorous Goods, walking in as the
    joyous scents play with her nostrils.

    "Welcome

    to Amorous Goods, I'm Vikki, the co-owner," without taking her eyes from
    her laptop, when she heard the door chime.

    "Hi;

    Dylan I think it was, was right, this place looks amazing," Bethany looked
    around.

    "That

    it is," Vikki glided from around the desk, "come peruse our
    inventory, I was just following up with one of my employees reports."

    "I

    was at this flea market thing and I talked briefly with him. He said he was
    looking for special items, and I think hitting on me."

    "Yeah.

    Dylan likes the fluffy girls," she smirked, leading her around the first
    floor. "Amorous Goods doesn't just take any 'ol junk, just because it's
    old, doesn't make it valuable, doesn't mean our prices aren't fair
    either."

    "That's

    good."

    "Indeed.

    We just don't have antiques, but antiquities, artifacts, and some this and
    that, trinkets. I had some boring job, and took this as a chance of
    passion," she exclaimed, "An ancestor of mine got this place decades
    ago, this mansion was a brothel in which a long ago grandmother worked at, she
    somehow got the place, legend speaks, she found love, the owner wouldn't let
    her be free, so she wooed him, got him drunk, got the deed signed over and killed
    him, sounds like a movie, right? Her husband was a collector and the place was
    perfect. For some reason my family wanted nothing to do with this place because
    of the history. Me and cousin chubby-chaser managed to inherit it."

    "Wow,

    that's crazy," Bethany replied, looking and inspecting things.

    "The

    crazy thing is some of this stuff is cursed, or has magic properties. I hired
    an Occultist; Morgana, to catalog and test items, neutralize anything too
    dangerous, or for customers who still want the thing, but without it's;
    whatever it does. Creeped out, yet?"

    "No,

    not at all, I'm looking for a bit of wall d�cor, I just moved here for a job. I
    love this kind of stuff, I'll probably be a return customer."

    "I

    see you eyeing that African male fertility, like you want to; have fun with it.
    Don't worry; I've thought about it too; gets boring sometimes. Follow me."
    She thinks to herself Morgana should inspect it.

    Vikki

    lead her to a rack with various mask hanging from it.

    "Legend

    states these African mask were worn by warriors, if they die in battle, their
    soul is said to inhabit it. Some say a woman shouldn't trifle with them, but if
    you pick one where he died in victory; it might help with that jungle
    fever," Vikki laughed.

    "Oh

    this one looks like he might have been a; Hmm; to wear that."

    "I'll

    tell you what; since you're the new girl in town and appreciate old things;
    forty bucks. New customer discount."

    "Vikki,

    you have a deal."

    "Remember;

    if anything not safe happens, bring it back ASAP."

    "I

    promise."

    After

    getting acquainted with the area, window shopping various stores until she
    found what she wanted. Satisfied with it all, Bethany stops at a local
    restaurant for a late lunch and probably dinner, at an outside table, she calls
    Tabitha.

    "Hey,

    Beth," she greeted. "You check out that place?"

    "I

    just came back from there, such interesting history if it's true. She said her
    great-great-great grandmother got the place, it was originally a brothel she
    worked at."

    "Isn't

    it some strip mall store?"

    "No,

    it's an old Victorian mansion. The funniest thing is she claimed that some of
    the stuff there is like haunted," Bethany laughed.

    "Probably

    just a gimmick, that's how they peddle their junk."

    "Well.;

    There was this African statue with a big cock; like half the length of Mandingo,
    that was slightly arousing," Bethany mused.

    "That's

    just your pussy begging for some black cock, just scoop you up some twenty
    something black dude, get his number, throw that Milf pussy on him, shoo him
    out till you need some more."

    "Jeeze Tabby; that's not; what; why would you;�

    "Yeah,

    as much as you need it, he'd have to move in with you."

    "No

    he would not. Why am I even discussing this?"

    "Here's

    your order, ma'am," the waiter brought her food.

    "Thank

    you."

    "He

    sounded black, get his number."

    "He

    was not and no. You're always talking about sex, maybe you need to get
    laid."

    "Honey,

    I get mine. The toys not at my desk at work, are collecting dust."

    "Should

    you be proud of that?"

    "That

    I get all the cock; they're proud of it, men fuck to their hearts content, brag
    about it, have play by plays. I'm a stud like they are. Any woman out age
    should be proud."

    "I

    guess you have a point. I just want one guy that can do it right, when I'm
    ready, and it'll be good for me."

    "Give

    that dildo a rest. I bet that waiter was checking you out."

    "He

    was not."

    "Are

    you dressed like some old gypsie woman?"

    "Yeah...,"

    Beth sighs.

    "You

    know guys love that voluptuous body of yours."

    "Tell

    you what; when you come here, we'll find some good cock. I'll figure out the
    good spots."

    "That's

    the spirit. Can't wait."

    Chapter 2

    Bethany

    clears and unpacks more boxes, surveying where to hang the mask, hanging
    opposite of the walls of the television and couch, near the doorway to the rest
    of the apartment. Staring at it intently, using a cleaning wipe, to rid it of
    dust and dinge. She wonders what the man looked like, who bare the mask in
    battle. He had to be buff, tall, broad, could lift her like a child, throw a
    spear like a bullet, and most likely put Mandingo to shame. Bethany places a
    hand on the mask, feeling the ebony black wood, the sharp teeth, wide joyous
    eyes, ready to jump in battle, eager to reap the rewards of victory.

    She

    pulls herself away from it, setting up her television stand, as she hefts the
    large sixty inch flat screen, cursing herself for keeping it after the breakup.
    A sensation of hands ran down her shoulders, to her elbows, wrapping around her
    hands, cutting the weight of the thing in half. Gone once the television was
    placed, briefly returning firmly around her waist as she steadied herself,
    dissipating. A chill down her spine, quickly shaking it off as something that
    actually happened.

    "Weird.

    Maybe I'm just tired; ugh; the cable and internet guy is scheduled for eight,
    so he'll probably be here near noon. Whelp, better get some rest, who knows
    when he'll get here," she tells herself.

    Bethany

    strips down, readying her shower, eyeing herself in the mirror; her curvy
    figure, large chest, turning to see her plump rear end, rubbing a hand down her
    thick thighs, cupping and lifting her stomach, flesh caressing around her
    fingers. Guys really like this, all this, she thinks. Big tits and fat asses,
    sure, but everything else? Even a thirty-eight year old body like this? Maybe I
    should flaunt it before it all hits the floor.

    She

    steps in the shower, grabbing her trusty loofa, pouring Shear Twilight on it,
    letting the water wet her whole body, the heat feeling good on her back, the
    individual streams tempting her nipples. As her loofa runs through every crease
    between her soft skin, it feels as she's being watched. She cradles her tit in
    her arms, staring through the glass, seeing nothing. Taking her time, musing
    about the idea that there may be a long list of men waiting to ravish her body,
    paying close attention to her tit, slowly wiping each one, feeling their
    individual weights, as if she's unfamiliar, carrying on to her stomach,
    noticing the give in it, with the slightest pressure, lower, the garden. She
    never concerned about her little pooch, with what it protects, wishing Mandingo
    was here. She moves on to her butt, lifting each heavy cheek, cleaning the
    creases, sweeping their surface making note of their contour, spreading them,
    gliding the soap. She watches the soap run down her thighs, across dimples,
    they shake a little aa she changes position. Finally letting the water run it
    all away, a new life, a new chance. Turning off the shower, reaching to open
    the glass door, noticing two large handprints in the fog.

    "Oh

    yes, Mandingo, you fill me completely," she thrust it inside her.

    Bethany's

    legs are splayed out, her free hand travels across her body, while the other
    forcibly shoves her dildo in her soaked pussy. Through downplaying herself, the
    desire for a bit of rough masturbation before her modest nature tries to take
    hold, grew.

    "You;

    black; king," she gasp.

    Her

    moans and grunts echo with the sound of Mandingo slipping in and out of her,
    bouncing off the bare walls. She grabs and sucks on her own nipple, holding her
    tit in a firm grip. She nearly bites it, as she reaches climax, grunting,
    breathing through her teeth.

    "one

    more; why can't you fuck me doggy style, Mandingo? I knew I should a had you in
    the shower."

    Bethany

    runs the length of it on her clit several times, trying to jump start another,
    closing her legs around it, sliding the wet thing in and out of her thighs.
    Moaning softly to herself, she opens her legs, pushing it balls deep in her,
    thrusting hard enough, her body rocks with the strokes, working her arms. Her
    stomach shifts, tits rocking.

    "Fuck;

    fuck I'm sweating. But damn; feels so good."

    She

    starts fingering herself, pressing hard, getting closer and closer to the goal,
    twisting the dildo on the strokes. Sending herself in to another with loud
    yelps, grip loosened on Mandingo, her fingers slowly stop twitching on her
    clit. She lay there dazed a moment, trying to put Mandingo on her nightstand. A
    wave passes over her body, something moves her hair from her face, drifting
    down her cheek, another grazes her tit, moving down her side, stopping at her
    hip, moving over the top of her thigh. The other slides down her cleavage to
    her stomach, like some aftercare. Her eyes start to close, the feeling vanishes
    when she rolls over.

    Still

    feeling good about herself, refreshed from last night, waits for the cable
    installer, drinking coffee in an Asian styled silk robe, not tied that tight,
    showing a peek at her deep cleavage. Watching what broadcast stations her flat
    screen will pick up. A knock on the door.

    "Cable

    man," a voice called.

    "ten

    forty-three," she looks at her phone.

    Opening

    the door to a rather tall black man in a grey t-shirt, he gives her a quick
    once over.

    "Bethany

    Jackson?"

    Oh

    yes, hello," she could feel his eyes clawing at her chest.

    "My

    names Ray, welcome to the neighborhood," he steps in with a bag.

    "You

    live around here, too? I guess that would make it easier if I had
    problems."

    "Nah,

    I just seen the boxes, where would you want the modem and router set up, once
    we get that setup, I can get the cable together."

    She

    looks at him for a moment, picturing him naked, taking her slow in the bedroom.

    "Ms.

    Bethany...?"

    "Oh!

    Sorry, I uh; let's do it in the bedroom, put it in the bedroom," she
    blushed.

    Ray

    gives her a smirk, kneeling to his bag, pulling out cables and two boxes,
    glancing up at her. She leads him to the bedroom, pointing to a corner;
    "right here."

    He

    notices the large black dildo on the floor, looking at her with a raised
    eyebrow; "rough night?"

    "Fuck,

    I'm sorry; I thought I put that away," quickly bending over to grab it.

    She

    glances up to catch him staring right down her robe, she quickly opened her
    night stand, dropping Mandingo, slamming it shut.

    "Sorry

    about that."

    "It's

    no problem, it's your apartment; I'm just visiting. I've seen a few of those
    and a bit more," he laughs.

    "It

    was not supposed to be there, I swear," blushing again.

    "Ms.

    Bethany, I've had women offer me sex to try and get free cable or internet,
    they'd disappear and come back naked," he laughed, "I promise it's
    fine."

    "If

    that happened, I think I'd pay more," she covers her mouth "sorry, I;
    I'll just stay in the living room before something else stupid happens."

    Ray

    watches her hurry past him, her robe draped on her hips, ass jiggling as she
    leaves the room, "god damn," he mutters.

    Ray

    step in to the living room ten minutes later; "well that's all good to go,
    now the cable."

    "See;

    robe still on," she replies.

    "I'm

    surprised it isn't tied all the way to your armpits," Ray laughed.

    "I'll

    just leave you to it," she stands.

    "You're

    fine, I promise. Ms. Bethany, I'm a professional."

    "Beth

    is fine. I'm just so embarrassed."

    "You

    don't have anything to be embarrassed about."

    "It's

    just; I moved here from another city, and it's been so l, nope, not gonna stick
    my foot in my mouth," she sips her coffee.

    "Honestly

    Beth, and I mean no disrespect; you are attractive. I'm sure under that robe is
    nice. Sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I swear I usually keep my mouth shut.
    I don't want to get fired over sexual harassment."

    "No!

    I won't say anything, I don't want you to lose your job. It's my apartment, you
    said it. I don't want to come off like those women you were talking
    about."

    "I

    can tell, you looked like you were going to sit in your car, if you had
    to," he laughed.

    "I

    probably would have. You think I'm attractive?"

    "I

    do, you look good. I didn't get this job to hook up

    1 hr 21 min
  • Amorous Goods: The Flute & The Magic Pen
    Amorous
    Goods: The Flute
    After dinner
    conversation piece.

    Based

    on a post by ShowTime8.
    Listen to the
    Podcast at Explicit
    Novels.


    Prologue:

    A

    lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
    the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
    relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
    administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
    she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
    with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
    is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.

    The Flute

    Jeff

    had recently joined our small team of international shipbrokers. He was new in
    town and single. I knew he would soon sort out his social life, but he would be
    lacking some home comforts in the short term, so I invited him to our house for
    dinner one Friday after work. My wife, Hazel, is a wonderful woman and an
    excellent cook. After a superb dinner she offered to tidy up while Jeff and I
    went through to our lounge for a wee dram.

    I

    got out the Glenfarclas and poured us each a generous
    measure.

    "I

    see you have a flute of some sort on top of your mantelpiece" Jeff
    observed. "Do you play it at all?"

    "Not

    really," I replied. "I use it from time to time, but I don't actually
    play it. It's not really for playing in the normal sense of making music. To
    tell you the truth, it's a magical Japanese shakuhachi
    flute. I got it years ago from an old guy who ran a curiosity shop full of antiques
    and bric-a-brac. I think the shop was called Amorous Goods."

    Jeff

    grinned and settled back on the Chesterfield sofa where he was relaxing.
    "I'm sure there's an interesting story behind it?" he enquired.

    "There

    sure is," I replied. "Shakuhachi flutes are
    traditionally made from bamboo or cane, but this one is said to be made from
    the wood of one of the six ancient zelkova trees of
    old Roppongi. It's a district of Tokyo that's famous
    for its nightlife nowadays. Of those six old trees, three were cut down around
    a hundred years ago and the others were destroyed in the Second World War. The
    story goes that the six trees were invested with the spirits of six witches and
    the wood from those trees has magical powers."

    "And

    you believe that?"

    "I

    was skeptical at first, but the shop owner arranged a demonstration of the
    flute's magic. The old guy told me if I blew just one note on that flute, the
    next woman who came into the shop would give me a blow job. I had to pay a
    deposit of five hundred dollars then he let me use the flute."

    I

    paused and took a sip of the whisky, cherishing my memories.

    "From

    the look on your face, presumably it worked," said Jeff.

    "Less

    than a minute after I blew a note on the flute an attractive young woman came
    into the shop. She saw me holding the flute and without saying a word she
    dropped to her knees in front of me, unzipped my trousers and fished out my
    cock. As far as I'm concerned, any blow job is a good blow job, but I can
    honestly say that was one of the best blow jobs I have ever had. She licked and
    sucked me until I came like an express train. She swallowed it all, tucked me
    back in, zipped me up, thanked me profusely and left the shop."

    "So

    did you buy the flute?" he asked.

    "You

    bet I did." I said with a smile. "The five hundred dollar deposit was
    non-refundable on condition the old guy could prove the magic flute worked, but
    I still had to pay another five hundred bucks on top of that."

    "In

    other words, you got a blow job and a small wooden flute for a thousand
    bucks?"

    "Yes

    indeed and it's been well worth it."

    "You're

    kidding!" Jeff exclaimed skeptically. "I bet it's never worked since
    you tried it out in that shop."

    "Jeff,

    I can honestly say it's worked every single time since then," I said,
    "That's why it has a place of honor on our mantelpiece. I wouldn't say
    this to just anyone, but I can let you try it for yourself."

    "You

    want me to borrow your flute?" he asked.

    "No,"

    I replied. "The flute stays here. You can have a shot at it right now, but
    you must agree not to breathe a word to anyone about it."

    "Okay,"

    he said, standing up and taking the flute from its resting place on the
    mantelpiece. "It would be rude of me to turn down your invitation."

    Glancing

    at me almost suspiciously, as if he was expecting some sort of practical joke,
    he sat back down on the sofa and blew a squeaky note on the instrument.

    A

    few moments later Hazel came through the door from the hallway, looked at me
    enquiringly and then saw Jeff holding the flute. Without hesitation she went
    over to the sofa, got down on her knees in front of Jeff, unzipped his trousers
    and got his cock out. She leaned over his crotch and started to lick and suck
    his cock enthusiastically. He leaned backwards over the arm of the sofa in an
    effort to give her easier access, grinned happily, raised his eyebrows at me
    and mouthed the word "Wow!"

    I

    took the opportunity to recharge our whisky glasses while Hazel polished Jeff's
    knob, bringing him to a gasping finish. Afterwards she tucked his cock back in
    his trousers and zipped them up, got to her feet, wiped her mouth with the back
    of her hand, thanked Jeff and smiled at me as she headed back to the kitchen.

    "Are

    you okay with that?" Jeff asked quietly.

    "No

    problem as far as I'm concerned," I replied. "Hazel absolutely loves
    giving blowjobs. Very occasionally a special guest gets to enjoy a happy ending
    after dinner. If Hazel likes them enough I let them toot the flute. It's just a
    good excuse for some adult fun."

    Jeff

    grinned from ear to ear. "Well, as far as I'm concerned that was truly a
    magical experience, but the real magic is not in the flute. It's in the art of
    the blowjob!"

    "Exactly,"

    I replied. "The flute on the mantelpiece is my way of acknowledging my
    wife's special talent. No doubt she will join us soon enough for a drink or two
    before you leave. Just be aware though, like many magicians, Hazel prefers not
    to discuss her magic trick after a show."

    To

    be continued, in the series, Amorous
    Goods; a collaborative storyline for Literotica

    Amorous Goods: The Magic Pen
    Errant penmanship
    disrupts a marriage.

    Based

    on a post by ShowTime8.
    Listen to the
    Podcast at Explicit
    Novels.




    Nikki

    Feingold peered over her menu, its calfskin folder soft and supple in her
    hands, the offerings transcribed in an elegant Garamond font.

    "Dessert?"

    Her dark eyebrows arched.

    Leonard

    Reminger leaned back, feeling the tightness of his
    belt against his waist.

    "I'm

    not sure Nikki, the temptation is huge, and we don't get to do this very often,
    but I am quite frankly stuffed. Filled to the gunwales. Popping at the
    seams."

    "In

    a good way," he added, seeing the hint of disappointment in her face.

    "Often?

    This is only our first time here. But yes," her expression recovering,
    "I know what you mean."

    Alo's atmosphere was exactly what Leonard had hoped it

    would be, one of the finest restaurants in Toronto. Expensive, far above their
    normal night out, candlelight not so low that you couldn't read the menu, but
    soft enough to set a mood. And quiet, a lovely quiet hum of the other's diners'
    voices that didn't intrude, it was possible to have a whispered conversation
    with your paramour and still hear each other.

    Paramour,

    Leonard rolled that word around in his head. Yes, that was precisely the right
    term. And on this, their fourth wedding anniversary, that characterization was
    still accurate, redolent, meaningful.

    Nikki's

    eyes went back to her menu.

    "Why

    don't we split something, maybe on the lighter side? The baked apple slices in
    cognac with clotted cream perhaps?" suggested Leonard.

    Nikki

    smiled back. Leonard had hit the perfect note.

    "Yes,

    that sounds wonderful."

    She

    was pleased he would meet her halfway, even though she knew she might end up
    with three-quarters of the dessert herself. One of Leonard's many appealing
    aspects was his willingness to compromise, even indulge.

    She

    gave a little shiver, she had been so lucky to have met him back at university,
    that first time that she saw him at Angela's party, so well dressed compared to
    the other students at the gathering, understated and not flashy.

    With

    those hazel eyes that seemed to stare into you, the shoulders squared, no
    academic question that came up that night to cause the slightest fluster, his
    answers thoughtful, thorough, in fact, she had noted even then, unlawyerly. That was it, he was the quietest, least
    rapacious of all the other law students she had met at university, most of them
    courtesy of her then roommate, Angela, a law student herself, who had
    introduced her to Leonard that fateful night.

    But

    now, of course, during the day those hazel eyes scanned corporate contracts,
    torts case briefs, and other impossibly mundane, although lucrative, documents.
    She was glad her own work involved teaching Renaissance architecture at the
    city's second university, York, and not in a corporate office.

    When

    they were done, Leonard beckoned their waiter.

    "If

    I may, I have a large favor to ask." He held the menu in his hands, Nikki
    couldn't help looking at his long elegant fingers, ones capable of so many
    duties, intimate or purely functional.

    The

    young waiter, perhaps early twenties, bowed his head respectfully, and Nikki
    noted for the hundredth time how easily Leonard wielded his charm, all the more
    effectively for being completely authentic.

    "Tonight

    is our wedding anniversary. The dinner was outstanding, many thanks. Might we
    be able to take tonight's menu home? I'd be pleased to reimburse you for your
    consideration. But it would be most special to us."

    He

    gazed at Nikki, who smiled shyly.

    The

    waiter bowed. "Please allow me to check, I will be right back."

    "Leonard,

    such a sweet thought!" Nikki beamed. "It never would have occurred to
    me to ask. October fourth, four years ago! How symmetrical, how Jungian!"

    The

    waiter returned with the bill. "Please accept the menu with our
    compliments and wishes for many more years of marriage. We are honored you
    chose us for your destination tonight."

    "Shall

    we walk home?" asked Leonard, when they had made their way to the street.

    "I

    know we were going to Lyft it, but it's probably only a thirty or forty minute
    stroll. And I'd love to settle the food a little, before sleep."

    Nikki

    smiled up at him. "Yes, of course. I'd love to have you settled a bit, for
    later," giving Leonard a slightly wanton look. "We cannot have an
    anniversary without some other celebrating."

    Her

    taffy colored hair was done up in a chignon, and Leonard thought her pale
    rose-colored evening dress, tight about her waist, could have charmed the venom
    out of a cobra. Her soft inviting neck, uncovered by her hair, could still
    produce a frisson of excitement that ran up and down his spine, even now, six
    years after first meeting her.

    That

    the dimple on her left cheek appeared so easily when she smiled was a distinct
    bonus.

    "Excellent,

    then."

    They

    chose a slightly more roundabout route than they might have picked otherwise,
    the October evening air possessed of that last bit of summer warmth before
    Toronto's often abrupt shift to much colder weather.

    On

    a leafy street paralleling one of the main streets of the city, residential
    with businesses only at the corners, Nikki spotted an unusual dwelling.

    "Len,

    look at that! What a stately place, in the middle of the block."

    This

    was an older part of town, many of the buildings of Victorian era with
    expansive and well-tended yards, nothing built later than perhaps 1920.

    But

    the object of Nikki's attention would have stood out regardless.

    Unlike

    the other houses on the block, all two stories in height, with lawns sloping
    down to the street and manicured shrubbery, this place loomed. Dark gray, an
    almost black exterior, with a slate mansard roof, it sat forbiddingly in a
    tangle of trees, which shaded every corner. A spiked fence surrounded the front
    section, and as they crossed the street and approached, Leonard pointed out a
    sign near the granite steps up to it from the street.

    "Most

    Curious Goods," he red. "Hours 12-8 except Sundays."

    What

    an odd formulation thought Nikki, wrinkling her nose. She looked in the
    windows, struck by the intriguing light that came from within.

    "Len,

    let's take a look."

    Indeed

    the front door was cast wide, the light spilling from the threshold inviting
    one in from the street.

    "Good

    evening," intoned a voice as they passed through the door into a foyer.
    Leonard looked about, startled, and was greeted by the slightest bow from a
    tall man in a dark suit. "Please have a look around. We are open until the
    top of the hour."

    The

    man's face was guileless and open, in that middle-of-the-country way that
    contrasted with bustling Montreal or cosmopolitan Vancouver. His movements were
    careful but informal. "Welcome to Most Curious Goods, I'm Dylan," he
    said by way of introduction, "please let me know if you have any
    questions."

    Leonard

    nodded and they passed from room to room, each one seemingly arranged as a
    theme. The first, to their right as they entered, could have been the drawing
    room from an English townhouse in the early part of the Twentieth century. The
    bricked mantle shelf held knickknacks of every description, Montgomery mugs,
    silver candlesticks, wooden birds and small animals, a taxidermy owl, sitting
    proudly at one edge.

    Nikki

    admired a small secretary's desk, dark wood with fine inlay, little cubby holes
    for envelopes, documents.

    Another

    room seemed to be Oriental, in the old British sense of the East, with carvings
    of snakes, intricate carpets, exotic animal heads attached to the wall, fangs
    and antlers on display.

    They

    passed from room to room, finding one towards the back of the house of
    remarkable interest.

    Leonard

    examined a balance scale, perhaps a foot wide, with small brass weights on each
    balance plate. They were metric units, and the label attached to the piece
    indicated it was early nineteenth century, from Nuremberg.

    "Look

    at his!" Nikki pointed to a narrow grandfather's clock, the hands of
    polished brass, its woodwork striking in both intricacy and color.

    Leonard

    was drawn to a large table, the sort found in old libraries, with a smooth dark
    wooden surface. A place was set for a writer to work, a typewriter, blotter,
    and a fountain pen of exotic polished wood.

    Leonard

    held the pen in his hand, its weight pleasing, with a substantial easy-to-grasp
    thickness to it. Removing the top revealed an elegant golden nib, and the name
    of the manufacturer, Faustographia, Leipzig, engraved
    in a small, tidy script.

    "Mid-nineteenth

    century," said the male voice that had greeted them on entering. Leonard
    started, so engrossed with the pen he had been unaware Dylan had followed them
    into the room.

    "We

    are unsure of its original provenance, but it was last owned by the Earl of
    Northumberland. Would you like to try it out?"

    Leonard

    was tempted but shook his head.

    "We're

    just looking at the moment, we noticed your place quite by accident while
    passing."

    Leonard

    was not sure why he declined the offer, as the urge to write with the pen,
    while he held it in his hand, had been strong.

    "But

    we still would like to poke around a few minutes more, before home
    beckons."

    Dylan

    inclined his head. "Of course."

    They

    admired some paintings, a fin de si�cle lamp, and reluctantly left for home.

    Nikki's

    eyes were shining. "What a striking shop! I would never have expected to
    find it there."

    Their

    last steps up to their door were weary, welcome. Leonard arranged the menu on
    the corner table in their dining room that held their silver. He could still
    conjure up the taste of the apple-cognac slices.

    "Thanks

    for a wonderful meal, Leonard, that was sweet of you." Nikki sidled up
    alongside him.

    "My

    thanks to you. I could not possibly be as happy in my life without you at my
    side." Their kiss was short, anticipatory.

    After

    final bathroom ablutions, Leonard found Nikki spread out in bed, covers tucked
    to the side. Her legs were wide, she had taken the time to array her hair in a
    fan-shape on the pillows. Early on Leonard had said how ravishing she looked
    that way, her long hair loose, unruly and wanton.

    Leonard

    smiled.

    "Just

    the way you like it," Nikki whispered. "Hurry get your clothes off
    and bring me your erection." She wiggled her hips.

    Leonard

    complied, and knelt to her side. His cock had grown half stiff in anticipation
    while he removed shirt, trousers and drawers, and after dangling his cock for a
    few minutes in Nikki's soft limpid mouth, he was fully hard.

    He

    knelt at her notch, already damp, and fingered and licked her arousal to an
    almost unsustainable condition. He had learned early on this was always the
    best way to proceed before entering her.

    Their

    copulation was swift, explosive, and exhausting. Leonard lay on top of her,
    thinking there was no contentment greater than when he could feel his cock
    softening inside his Nikki. They kissed, and she rubbed his back and bum, as he
    felt the fluids surrounding his cock, within her, warm and comforting.

    While

    the next day meant work for both of them, Nikki arranged to leave her office
    early after lunch and was back at Most Curious Goods the next afternoon.

    "We

    were in yesterday," she explained breathlessly to Dylan, "my husband
    and I. I've come for the pen we admired."

    "Yes,

    I remember."

    Nikki

    could not quite decipher the clerk's expression, perhaps amused, maybe
    conspiratorial, but more likely just pleased at a potentially successful
    transaction.

    "You

    must take this ink as well," insisted Dylan. "Comes along with the
    pen."

    He

    held a silver polished ink bottle with a handsome cap. "You know of course
    the nib is gold alloy, yet must only have non-acidic ink. This is a special
    formulation."

    Dylan

    demonstrated the proper way to fill the pen, spoke in general terms of its care
    and use.

    "Thank

    you," she said, as she handed over her bank card. Although none of the
    items in the shop had indication of monetary value, she had known the actual
    price of the pen would be dear, and she had winced at the final amount. But
    worth it, she couldn't help thinking.

    Dylan

    bowed as she left. "May your enjoyment be complete."

    Su

    1 hr 9 min
  • Amorous Goods: The Loving Fervor
    Amorous Goods: The Loving Fervor
    How far would you
    go for those you love?

    Based

    on a post by ShowTime8.
    Listen to the
    Podcast at Explicit
    Novels.




    Note to readers: Story contains

    religion themes and horror/bloody scenes. If that offends/disgusts you I
    recommend skipping this one.

    Prologue:

    A

    lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
    the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
    relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
    administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
    she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
    with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
    is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.

    A

    man went down the street at night. He checks each side before crossing it. He
    was looking at this pretty gal on her twenties wearing fashion ripped jeans,
    gray hoodies and casual no-lace shoes. She went by, distracted with her earbuds
    and shaking her long hair alongside her hips. Her milky white skin contrasted
    with her dark hazel eyes.

    She

    disappeared for a second among so many pedestrians and; "Huh! Sorry!"
    A guy on a white shirt bumped him out of distraction.

    "It's

    okay. Excuse, me;� He pushed the man trying to look around for her, to no
    avail. "Maybe she entered one of these stores? Damn;� He was working up
    his courage to go talk to her.

    The

    other man had short hair, average body and he was around thirties. He had just
    sent a message to that same girl. "Got it." Minutes later, both were
    laughing at their successful routine and having a beer on some far off corner
    pub.

    "You

    gotta admit, that guy was hypnotized."

    "You're

    improving, that's true."

    "Improving?

    I bet I could snatch his wallet as soon as he decided to stop me. Or better
    yet, he had it given to me as soon as I asked."

    "Better

    for you if he doesn't remember your face. You still got a lot to learn."

    The

    man opened up the pickpocketed wallet. He produced a condom. "He he he, what a loser," he
    said.

    "Ace,

    that's gross, throw it away."

    He

    pulled wallet's money and offered the girl. "Here's your slice, Tea."
    She was new to street crime, but she annoyed him so much in order to join him,
    he concluded that it's easier having her as a partner. She was probably going
    through a phase, trying to piss off her parents or something. Still, if she
    wanted in, she'd better stick by his rules and avoid getting caught.

    He

    learned his rules the hard way. He came in and out of the island sometimes. He
    ended up with a tattoo on his chest over his heart. Ace of Spades. Once it was
    a death threat, he now showed it around with pride illustrating his stories
    from prison he told women. Tea was one of those, although she wanted to impress
    him too and stand out from the others. Young and greedy, she wanted to be part
    of his world, so she could be with him. However, much of these routines are new
    to her. Right now she looked skeptically at him checking some three or four
    credit cards...

    "You

    know these got unhackable chips, right?" She
    voiced her look at him while taking a sip from a long neck.

    "I'm

    not after the chips. These two got proximity payment options. That sucker won't
    notice they're at our disposal until tomorrow, when paying for his nightlife's
    in downtown." He put the two credit cards back on his pocket already with
    other three from more two people.

    She

    blank stared while figuring out how he knew those cards got these functions
    only from looking at them. Meanwhile, he checked his phone. Some messages later
    he got his bottle and went out of the pub. Tea looked at him leaving, dropped a
    twenty dollar bill over the table and followed him. He was planning something
    big this time. He knew a dealer from out of town who was always looking for something
    rare and valuable to buy. Sooner that day a curious newspaper article featured
    an auction at a previously abandoned mansion, now revitalized. That auction
    would probably have some exquisite antiques to offer.

    "Would

    you care to say where are we going?"

    "What's

    the difference, Tea? We got money to spend, time to go shopping."

    "Great.

    You never tells me your whole plan. How are we supposed to work together?"

    "You

    just need to trust me."

    "Nobody

    should ever trust you;�

    Indeed,

    Ace is the classic bastard. He got fed up with life in general. Lone wolf kind
    of guy. He didn't care much for having a partner around. Still, he thought
    Tea's persistence about getting in the game to be naive and stupid. He couldn't
    help to feel sorry for her.

    "Let

    me see what you got!" Tea took his still unlocked phone from his hand and
    checked the messages. She read: "What you got for me? Let's meet tomorrow.
    Same place and time."

    "Who's

    this?"

    "My

    contact, I'm gonna take today's shopping to him." Ace got back his phone
    and called an Uber.

    "So

    this job's big! If you told me earlier I'd have myself something more
    appropriate to wear."

    "You're

    looking the way I like most." Ace gave her a deep kiss that took her by
    surprise. "Dressed to get fools on the streets robbed." She slapped him
    hard in the arm. They embraced each other there in the street, making
    passionate love, showing no discretion. Tea disappeared in his arms, as she was
    considerably smaller than him. Sometimes it was easier for her to kiss his
    chest instead of his lips. He loved pulling her up by the ass so she both could
    see him eye to eye and be in his arms. She caressed his sharp hair and stubble
    beard, he sniffed her neck and ears, letting his breath tickle her. They gave a
    long and resounding french kiss moving their bodies
    still clothed...

    "Mr.

    Feirn?" Said the driver. Ace, his kissing
    interrupted, replied with a deadly look in his eyes. He hated that name and his
    bad timing.

    "Call

    me Ace," he said while they both went in the back of the car, still making
    out. The driver didn't make a sound and drove them to the mansion shaking his
    head thinking about his own life.

    The

    mansion was located on downtown border. Many years in disarray had brought the
    heir some trouble with fixing it back to operational. Moreover, that night,
    running an auction, liquidating items of unknown value or background, dealing
    with so many strangers all at once could easily overwhelm any regular person.

    However,

    this lucky descendant was anything but regular. Vikki is a dedicated and
    perseverant woman. She had run into many setbacks already with this auction and
    still got energy to be arguing with this slender man, the auctioneer.

    "Ma'am,

    I apologize, but certain items weren't appraised to the minimum bid required.
    They don't even cover our premium."

    "What

    do you mean? I thought I hired you gentlemen in order to liquidate all assets
    found in the house, followed by the house itself."

    "I

    beg your pardon. Take a look at these items. A magic 8-ball? An ordinary pair
    of red cowboy shoes? A common pen?"

    "I

    understand they aren't your common daily catalog material. Still, they're all
    part of the collection!"

    "Unless

    they have any certification from a specialist, I'm afraid my hands are
    tied."

    Vikki

    sighed. That night wasn't being very productive.

    "Ma'am,

    excuse me. Where should we put these?" Said one of the auction assistants
    carrying a cart loaded with three wooden boxes with descriptions to peculiar simean figurines.

    "Oh;

    Hmm.. These weren't appraised yet. Please, leave them in the back, I'll deal
    with them later." She turned back to the auctioneer realizing he left to
    the stage. Most people were already waiting in the improvised, but neatly
    decorated conference room, right next to the main hall. Before she could have
    him aside and finish the discussion, another assistant poked her softly.

    "I'm

    sorry, ma'am. We got a problem at the entrance with our guest list. A couple is
    making a fuss about it and demanding to see the manager. I tried to reason with
    them, but they won't budge."

    She

    went for a soft facepalm and responded: "Fine,
    let me check the front door, see what I can do. Could you please check the
    coffee break? I need the canapes ready after the first four items are sold.
    Don't forget to showcase the other items in that room."

    "I'll

    make sure everything's ready, ma'am. Excuse me;� The assistant disappeared down
    the hall. She went for the main door.

    "I'm

    sorry, but I don't happen to find your names on the list. That's why I asked
    for identification in first place. I'm just trying to help."

    "Oh

    you gonna regret that, you hear me?" A fancy blond young woman
    gesticulated shaking her head vigorously. "I know people who knows people!
    Your company's cancelled already!" Her boyfriend knew better to stay
    quiet. He was used to be embarassed like that.

    "I'm

    so sorry, ma'am! First of all, good evening. My name is Vikki, I'm supervising
    the auction. I understand you wanted to see me?"

    "Yes!

    This horrible host states I'm off the list! Do you know who I am?"

    "I'm

    so sorry, we have trouble with printing the list today, entirely our fault,
    please, come in!"

    The

    slim young lady dressed in a sideboob revealing
    front-only flashy blue dress walked chin-up while passing through the assistant
    holding the Q-Cord. Her boyfriend in a dark grey texudo
    followed her right after getting a numbered paddle. Vikki and the receptionist
    exchanged looks, only to realize next in line was this casual dressed couple
    looking at them in the exact same way.

    "Good

    evening, I'm sorry for that, it's been a colorful night so far;�

    "We

    get it," said Tea holding her laugh with a grin face.

    "I

    must say, you two might get looked down by guests if you're interested in
    joining the auction," Vikki said.

    "We

    don't mind pests like that couple," answered Ace in a condescending tone.
    "Call me Ace and this is my girlfriend, Tea." Vikki handed them a
    paddle gesturing the receptionist to just ignore the guest list.

    "Glad

    to meet you two! Follow me, please. I may show you something you could be
    interested along the way;� The couple casually stroded
    inside the main hall, following that gorgeus woman,
    dressed in a complete black tailleur, pen skirt,
    stockings, black heels and all. Her earrings jiggled with her steps, her
    improvised hair bun serving as reference among people coming and going through
    the collection display, wandering around. Most entrepreneurs, collectors,
    investors in general. Voices echoed in the corridor like a low buzz during sunday's morning before church services.

    "I've

    been considering keeping the mansion," Vikki said, turning around to wait for
    those two.

    "You

    should. I think the mansion suits you." Ace commented while checking up
    some items behind glass cases.

    "Do

    I look that old?"

    "Not

    old, classy."

    Tea

    elbowed him hard, her face as red as tomatoes.

    "Oh,

    thank you! Appearances can be deceiving. Actually, this mansion here is far
    from what I'm used to." Vikki continued to lead the way.

    "Really?

    Because from looking at your collection you must come from a wealthy
    family." Tea noted avoiding falling behind. She was already regreting not changing at least her wardrobe, looking at so
    many fancy dresses, high heels and crystal decoration of the estate. On their
    way, more high appraised jewelry was displayed. Rare Sapphic earrings from last
    century, a misterious pendant encased in a glass box
    from the other side of the world, a pair of leather glove supposedly from Old
    West's era. These and many others already tagged "sold", but some yet
    to be presented.

    "That

    wasn't in my plans to get all this overnight. I wasn't acquainted to my dead
    uncle. In fact, my life came to a halt so I could adress
    this. I'm in no position to complain, I mean, money is always welcome. But I do
    get that feeling like the girl on a sea shore realizing she've
    just hit jackpot with all those fossils. I'm yet to discover what they all
    are."

    At

    the end of the tour through the collection in exhibition, she turned to them.
    "Well, I know this isn't much. I still have to go through more crates and
    have the items appraised before organizing a catalog for next auction,"
    said her pointing to many large wooden boxes. "Fragile" and
    "Special handling" written in english and a
    couple more languages. Stamps from Iraq, Mali, Tasmania, Equator were on some
    standing out from the stack. "I'll leave you at the auction's door. If you
    happen to close a deal, I'll be happy to help you two with your
    acquisition."

    From

    the next room, a smack on the stand with the gavel and another item was sold to
    an old man with docile featured face. He became the owner of a BDSM babydoll piece known to have been previously used by a
    black widow murderer, who became famous by her stunts seducing men. But that's
    another story...

    "And

    now, ladies and gentlemen, before our coffee break, I'd like to present you one
    last item. This is our featured object from the Far East!"

    A

    couple of helpers with gloves pushed a cart and lifted a stone box, lid opened
    and tilted so people could admire its content. A simple, yet well polished anklet, tagged from Bhutan, dated around
    third century AD. Suddenly, entire audience went from profound awe to deep
    silence.

    The

    tall auctioneer in the expensive suit proceeded, after carefully reading the
    details and repositioning his glasses: "This rare item made of jade beads
    with details covered in gold is called the 'Anklet of Gunihalitva'.
    The Anklet was actually banned by the government from bhutanese
    soil after a sad incident occured soon after it's discovery near Ura's archaelogical site. According to local traditions, this
    item is cursed by the forbidden cult of Kulaprikun,
    but it is also the last piece of history about it." Tea yawned maybe too
    loud. Ace smiled agreeing with her.

    The

    slim young lady from the scene at the door couldn't hold her anxiety and
    curiosity anymore: "Why is this item cursed? What incident?"

    The

    auctioneer moved only his eyes from over his glasses: "After our dear
    missed patron of arts," and pointed to a big wall portrait of Vikki's
    former relative sitting with a penetrating stare and a cat in his lap,
    "diligently found its hidden location and lead the excavation that recovered
    it from its former resting place, this item supposedly spread a disease of some
    sort, causing many deaths and mass hysteria. However, we made sure that this
    item is free of any sort of germ."

    Ace

    from the middle of the crowd asked "Is the Anklet evil then?" in a
    cynical way.

    After

    cleaning his throat, he resumed his reading: "This item seems to represent
    the commitment to sexuality. Gunihalitva was a deity
    dedicated to obsession and lascivity. His cult
    originally intended to reach deeper spirituality," pausing to a subtle
    hint of disgust, "through practicing the most vivid, intense, last longing
    sexual intercourses they could. It was truly a one of a kind religious movement
    in history."

    Now,

    demonstrating with other photos projected behind the auction block, he
    continued: "This item has many inscribings, some
    in sanskrit, some in other strange language. It
    refers to the cult everlasting commitment to their cause, even in the
    afterlife." The photos showed a magnified inscribings
    in each bead, some shots of the piece over a white surface and the
    certification of origin. After a pause he continued: "Without any more
    questions, I believe we may begin. The initial price for this wonderful unique
    piece is set to five thousand;�

    Ace

    turned to Tea. "I know it's soon to say, but this might be the one I'm
    looking for. Small, hard to describe, easy to counterfeit. Not commonly seen on
    a black market, I believe."

    Tea

    contemplated for a moment. "Do you think we can afford the price if it
    goes too high?"

    Ace

    nodded. People were already bidding. One female voice stood up in the crowd. It
    was the blue dress girl, yet again provoked into having an exclusive item for
    herself. Her boyfriend wasn't very keen, but he was used to concede and spoil
    her. When Ace bid twenty five grand, most bidders backed from the competition.
    Except for her.

    "Twenty-seven!"

    she yelled in a high-pitched fancy note.

    "Thirty!"

    "Thirty-three!"

    The

    auctioneer was getting excited to see their back and forth. He discreetly
    loosened his tie a little while gasping for air and repeating the bids.

    Tea

    recognized her and made an ugly face at that rich-bitch spoiled brat. "She
    think she's better than us, just because she got money?" She whispered to
    herself. She hugged ace and raised his paddle's hand, saying "Thirty-five
    thousand!" with powerful and piercing acute voice. Ace covered his ears on
    a reflex action.

    The

    girl turned to her, despiteful, and raised her paddle again. "Thirty.
    Eight. Thousand!" One could clap between her pauses.

    "Forty

    thousand!" Tea lost her good sense and started having reckless fun by now.
    Ace looked at her, eyes wide opened.

    "Forty

    thousand!" The auctioneer completed. "Going once!"

    "Forty

    five Thousand!" The boyfriend took the paddle from the girl after that.

    "Fifty

    thousand!" - Tea screamed, people around laughed at the amusement.

    "Going

    once! Going twice! Sold! To the loving couple for impressive fifty thousand!
    You two must really be into oriental collection;� Said the auctioneer trying to
    regain people's attention while everybody around cheered.

    "Nice

    job. You burned down all money on the first item." said Ace in pessimism.

    "Why

    do you care? The money isn't ours;�

    "Problem

    is: I intended to check the others too. Until you decided to show off to that
    Stacy that is;�

    "Whatever,

    we needed to use all those credit cards! That's what I did! Don't start
    grumbling now, we gotta go!"

    They

    sought after Vikki, looking for a quick way to obtain their new acquisition.
    She wasn't far, but she was attending some call. A couple of minutes later and
    she pointed them upstairs, to an office room.

    They

    anxiously stared at each other, worried about closing the deal. They whispered
    a little about their plans to tail out of there and pass the object on as soon
    as possible, when Vikki abruptly entered the office.

    "Hello,

    again! I was informed you fell for the Anklet upfront, nice choice. Ace and;
    Tea, am i right?"

    Tea

    went first: "Yes. Well, we really appreciate your attention and all, but
    we wanted that piece so we could leave. We liked the event very much, but we're
    in a short schedule;� Meanwhile, Vikki went for her chair, fixing her short pen
    skirt over her stocks. She unlocked her computer and continued. "I
    understand. However, we have some papers to go through, and the registration
    within the auction company;�

    "Well,

    uh, we went for a higher price in order to avoid; Complications, yes?" Ace
    completed. "I know this might not be common practice, but we ask kindly
    that you 'facilitate' things to us, okay?"

    Vikki

    looked at them dead in the eyes. She wasn't up for any trouble nor cutting
    corners. Still, she was going for more than she bargained for on that night.
    Ponder

    1 hr 13 min
  • Amorous Goods: Decisionmaker & Dirty Duchess
    Amorous Goods: The Decision Maker
    Young man at a
    crossroads gets help.

    Based

    on a post by ShowTime8.
    Listen to the
    Podcast at Explicit
    Novels.




    Prologue:

    A

    lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
    the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
    relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
    administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
    she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
    with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
    is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.

    Decisions.

    Tom

    liked to go for long walks when he was making a difficult decision. Right now
    he had been walking for two hours with no end in sight.

    His

    girlfriend, Dorothy, had practically given him an ultimatum. He needed to
    propose soon or she was going to move on. While it was true that they had been
    dating for nearly a year, Tom was not convinced that she was a good fit.
    Dorothy was without a doubt a responsible driven woman, who would go far in the
    world. She was an executive assistant for one of the partners in the accounting
    firm where he worked. She always dressed sharp and was very attractive.

    <--more-->

    She

    was 5'7" and 24 years old, whereas Tom was 5'10" and 26. They met at
    work and started dating. Not exclusively at first, but for the last six months
    they had been monogamous. She wouldn't agree to sex until he agreed to stop
    seeing anyone else, which wasn't an unreasonable request. The sex was good, but
    not the best he'd ever had. Dorothy not only seemed reserved, she was distant
    during sex. Perhaps she'd had better sex before and was feeling the same
    disconnect he was. More likely, she just didn't like sex and was going through
    the motions to satisfy him. Of course, he just couldn't know.

    He

    wondered if he was willing to spend the rest of his life with a mediocre sex
    life. On the other hand, she was driven and organized. She kept his apartment
    clean and organized, while doing the same for her own. She spent the night at
    his apartment most days of the week, while he stayed at hers during the
    weekends. She managed to give him some good advice on how to get ahead at the
    company, and was helping him with the process of establishing his own financial
    consulting firm. He had no doubt that with her as his wife he would become a
    very successful business owner.

    But

    deep down Tom missed his old girlfriend, Samantha. Sammi
    was a real party girl who loved to fuck. There was nothing reserved or distant
    about Sammi in the sack. The two had met while he was
    in college. She had been a psychology major, and it was true what they said.
    Most psychology majors were trying to figure out what was wrong with them. Sammi had self-esteem issues, commitment issues, trust
    issues just to start. She had more issues than The New York Times.

    Tom

    dated her for three years, but Sammi could never be
    completely faithful. She never cheated on him, because she never promised him
    to be monogamous. Every time he wanted to be her only one, she told him upfront
    that it wasn't going to happen. She gave him the option to stay on her terms,
    or leave. He left a few times, but would inevitably end up back with her.

    She

    liked him and he liked her, but she just kept allowing herself to be seduced by
    smooth operators. She sought validation through sex, and Tom couldn't provide
    enough. He tried to get her to settle for threesomes with the two of them and
    some other partner, but she would eventually break whatever rules he tried to
    enforce.

    If

    Tom could have been satisfied with a relationship minus the monogamy, he would
    have been happy with Sammi, but that was a deal
    breaker. Sammi was a fun girlfriend, but would not be
    a wife for him. On the other hand, he could have Dorothy with all the monogamy
    he wanted, but none of the passion. His biggest concern was that he might marry
    Dorothy and cheat on her with Sammi. Could he marry
    Dorothy and risk turning into the sort of person who might cheat? Would he be
    able to settle for a lifetime of missionary position with a starfish after
    having sex in twenty different positions over the course of a week with Sammi?

    And

    so Tom kept walking. He had started from Dorothy's apartment, ostensibly to
    clear his head with the intention of arriving at his own apartment. He left the
    familiar confines of the financial district long ago, and now he was in the
    eclectic neighbor of used book stores and antique shops. He was lost in his
    thoughts, when he pulled up short realizing he had no idea where he was. He
    pulled up his cellular phone to look at a map, only to find that his phone was
    out of power. He looked around him, hoping to find a familiar landmark or
    welcoming store front.

    Across

    the street was a store named Amorous Goods. The seemed more welcoming the South
    Asian Herb market he was walking past. He looked in the window at some of the
    objects in the window on display. It reminded him of some of the sex shops that
    he and Sammi has visited, though this shop has a more
    refined air to it. He walked in the door and a bell sounded somewhere.

    Tom

    wasn't really shopping as much as he was looking for a shop keeper who could
    give him directions back to civilization, but he felt an obligation to look
    over the display merchandise. A voice from somewhere in back of the store
    called out "Just a minute." Tom looked around at the various objects
    on the shelves. He recognized the Ben Wa balls,
    though these seemed to have a malicious shine to them. He saw a strap-on dildo
    that was emitting a low rumbling hum that he was afraid to touch.

    On

    another shelf he saw a small clear box that held what looked like a Magic
    8-Ball. The box was labeled as The Decision Maker. Just like one of those
    classic children's toys, it had a little window that displayed a small message
    inside. The current message said "Definitely, Yes". Tom began to
    reach for it, when a woman came down the aisle. "Hello, I'm Vikki. Can I
    help you find something?"

    "Yes.

    Thank you. I'm looking for directions. I'm a little lost. I took myself for a
    walk and now I need to get back to Crenshaw Street."

    "Oh.

    That's over a mile away. Do you want me to call a cab for you?" Vikki
    asked.

    "No.

    I'm happy to walk, just tell me which direction to head and I'll be fine."
    Tom assured her.

    "Well,"

    Vikki began, "you'll want to turn right out of the store and go three blocks.
    That will take you to Jefferson Avenue. Turn left and in about a mile and a
    half, you should be in familiar territory."

    "Right.

    Jefferson eventually runs parallel to Crenshaw. Okay that will get me where I
    want to go." Tom thanked her.

    "Are

    you sure you don't want a ride? It's still a long way. I can get a cab here
    quick."

    "No,

    the walk helps me think. By the way, what can you tell me about this Decision
    Maker here? How much is it?"

    Vikki

    startled for a moment and looked where he had pointed. "Oh. I had
    forgotten about that piece. I suppose it would be harmless to let that one
    go." She thought for a moment. "Forty dollars."

    Tom

    thought. That was more than he really wanted to pay. But she had been generous
    with the directions and maybe it would help him with his decision regarding
    Dorothy. Sometimes it's just useful having someone to help make the important
    decisions for you. "Deal!" he said. He paid the money and walked out
    of the store with his Decision Maker and headed for home.

    He

    arrived safely at his apartment about half an hour later, but he was no closer
    to making a decision. When Tom arrived home he immediately plugged in his
    phone. It took a few minutes to come alive, but once it did it buzzed with
    message alerts from missed phone calls and text messages. Tom anticipated these
    were from Dorothy and decided he was not ready to talk to her yet.

    He

    sat down at his kitchen table and stared at his Decision Maker. He shook it as
    if it were a Magic 8-Ball and asked aloud, "Should I marry Dorothy?"
    Immediately he felt a deep lassitude as if he had fallen asleep and he started
    dreaming.

    Tom

    was sitting at a kitchen table, but it did not look like his kitchen. This was
    a much nicer, much larger kitchen with a large professional grade refrigerator
    and stove. There were marble top counters and a large central island. The
    afternoon sun was shining in through huge vaulted windows looking out over a
    large backyard. He could see an outdoor hot tub and a pool house in his
    backyard.

    That's

    right. That was his backyard. This was his house. Tom lived here with his wife
    Dorothy and daughter Delilah. It was a large six bedroom house with a three car
    garage and finished basement. They purchased this house eight years ago. Tom's
    company, Insight Investing, had taken off and the family was quite wealthy.
    Dorothy had informed him that they needed a bigger house because Delilah was
    going to be born soon. They bought a house big enough for a large family that
    never materialized.

    Tom

    looked up to see his wife standing over him. She had an impatient look on her
    face that he knew too well. She had always been a take charge demanding
    personality, but it had served their marriage well so he never complained. She
    had good business contacts from working as an administrative assistant that she
    had steered his way over the years. While she had been only working part time
    since Delilah was born, she had been instrumental in Insight Investment being
    as successful as it was. Make no mistake, Tom had put in the long hours,
    working fourteen hour days and most weekends, but he depended on his wife to
    raise their daughter and manage the household.

    Tom

    looked down at the table in front of him and saw the Dissolution of Marriage
    forms laid out on the table. His loving wife of eleven years had just asked him
    for a divorce. Tom was shocked and dismayed. He knew there had been cracks in
    their marriage for a long time, but he had always assumed that Dorothy was
    happy. He had spent their entire marriage trying to keep her satisfied. She had
    always been a cold fish in the bedroom, but he never pushed. They hadn't had
    sex ever since Delilah was born, because Tom never wanted to force the issue.

    Dorothy

    said, "You know we haven't been happy in a long time. Just sign it and we
    can get this over easily."

    Tom

    felt like he had been punched in the gut. "Can't we try counseling? Can't
    we try to make it work?" He tried to read the divorce papers in front of
    him. "Why didn't you talk to me about this?"

    Dorothy

    signed. "I'm done. I don't want to discuss it. I just want out. This is as
    good a settlement as you will get. You've got unsupervised visitation with
    Delilah every other weekend. I already found you a two bedroom apartment close
    to your work."

    Tom

    goggled. "What?? You already found an apartment for me? How long have you
    been planning this?"

    "Actually,

    I've been thinking about this for about a year. Things haven't been getting
    better. Delilah and I will stay in the house. The alimony is very affordable
    and will allow you enough money to live off of."

    Tom

    growled. "Are you kidding me! You've been thinking about this for a year
    and you didn't talk to me about it? You ambushed me you fucking bitch! There's
    no way I'm signing this without having my own lawyer looking it over."

    "You

    dumbshit! You don't have a lawyer. Our family lawyer
    is Jon's friend. We've made sure that any decent lawyer in a fifty mile radius
    has a conflict of interest. If you try to fight this, then you will find out
    just how nasty I can be. I've spent the last year documenting a history of
    abuse by you. Fight this and I'll destroy your reputation."

    "I've

    never hit you. I haven't even touched you in years. Where do you get off
    accusing me of that!" Tom shouted.

    "So

    what? I've been giving myself bruises and showing them to friends. I've been
    telling enough people at work and at the gym about it, that I'll be able prove
    it in court. If you fight this you will lose. Jon is sending four guys from
    work to help move your stuff out. They will be here in ten minutes, so sign the
    agreement and make it easy. If you don't sign it, I'll have a restraining order
    filed before the day is over."

    Jon

    was Dorothy's boss. She had been his administrative assistant for as long as I
    had known her. Clearly he had known about this for a long time. "How long
    has Jon been involved? Why did you talk to him before you talked to me?"

    "Jon

    has been involved since the beginning. I mean, he's been a big part of our
    lives for years. He's the reason your company has been so successful. If you
    make this easy, your company will stay successful. If you fight, you'll lose
    most of your biggest clients. He wants you to be successful so you can continue
    to support Delilah and me. Just go along with this and everything will be
    fine."

    "Wait?

    Are you saying what I think you're saying? Have you been screwing him? Is he
    Delilah's father?"

    Dorothy

    squirmed. "You are Delilah's father. You're the only father she's ever
    known. Don't talk like that. I'm just tired of living like this. We don't love
    each other. We need to move on. You've got your company and your daughter. Just
    let me go."

    "Let

    you go! Look at this alimony you're asking for. Four thousand dollars per week!
    That's well over half my income and is doesn't include the house payments. How
    much is Jon contributing to his child's upkeep."

    "Delilah

    is your child, not his. He has been steering business your way to make sure she
    is well provided for, but that's all he can do. He has his own family to take
    care of. Don't ruin it for him or us." She sighed. "Just sign the
    papers. Let's make this easy."

    There

    was a loud knock on the door which immediately opened. Four large burly men let
    themselves into my home. "Ma'am? How can we help?" Tom looked at
    these thugs who were going to enforce these terms. No matter what he did, he
    was going to be out on the street in a hour. These guys were going to clear
    everything out that belonged to him. They might move it into this new apartment
    or they might just dump it in the gutter. If he fought, he end up with some
    broken ribs and bruises, but no doubt he would lose. He looked at his wife,
    soon to be ex-wife, with tears in his eyes. He picked up the pen and started
    reading the agreement, before he realized it didn't matter. He was completely
    screwed. He steeled himself to sign the contract. He took a breath. Just then
    his cell phone rang, and he startled awake.

    Tom

    looked at the Decision Maker. In its window showed one word, "No".
    His phone continued to ring. It was Dorothy. As a reflex he picked it up and
    answered. Dorothy started into him, "Where the hell have you been, Tom?
    I've been calling for hours ever since you left. We were talking and then you
    just walked out saying you had to think. Don't I get a say in what you do?
    Aren't you going to talk to me about it?"

    Tom

    was still reeling from his vision. He was so unhinged he blurted out, "Are
    you sleeping with Jon?"

    Dorothy

    spluttered on the other end of the line. "What?? Why would you ask that?
    Who told you that? I mean, who gave you the idea that anything was going on?
    It's completely ridiculous. Where do you get off accusing me of that? Is this
    you trying to blame me for your indecision. Listen, you better get your head
    screwed on right if you think we're going to get married. Hell, I bet you wish
    you were still screwing Sammi and you're trying to
    distract me with this accusation. Now you get your ass back here so we can
    continue this conversation. Do you hear me?"

    Tom

    hung up the phone. He had heard enough. The vision was starting to fade, but it
    was clear that he did not want to marry Dorothy. He was thankful that this toy
    had saved him from a potentially disastrous marriage. He sat there thinking
    about it a little longer, and finally he shook the Decision Maker and asked,
    "Should I marry Sammi?" Again his vision
    fogged over and he drifted off as if to sleep.

    Tom

    was sitting on the couch in his living room as the morning light was streaming
    in. He was tired. Tom had been unable to sleep and now he was staring blankly
    out his front window. He had been crying earlier, but now he had no tears left.
    Sammi had not come home last night from her night out
    with the girls. She had sent no text message telling him that she was okay. He
    felt like a complete afterthought.

    Tom

    knew he had worked hard to convince Sammi to get
    married. She loved Tom, but she loved to party more. She would go out on the
    town, but she would always return to him. He tried to be a good husband, but
    that didn't seem to be enough for her. He had bought this house with his own
    money. He had started his own financial advising company with some of the guys
    from work. He was a good provider, and he kept hoping that she would finally
    get tired of the hangovers and the loud crowds.

    He

    remembered their wedding day. She had promised to be true to him, and she had
    meant it. Of course, what she meant by being true wasn't what he had in mind.
    She still danced with other men. She still flirted and kissed, but no sex. That
    was what she promised. Well, 'no intercourse' she admitted later. She didn't
    consider oral sex to be cheating. And of course, she might give a fellow a hand
    job, but that was only fair since she wouldn't fuck him.

    They

    fought all the time about that. She told him it was who she was. She couldn't
    give it up no matter how hard she tried. He kept waiting for her to grow up,
    but she never stopped going out. Of course, when they fought the make-up sex
    was phenomenal. He would take out all his frustrations on her. He would pull
    her hair and call her names. She just egged him on, telling him to punish her,
    to hurt her.

    He

    had to admit, the sex afterwards was the hottest sex he'd ever had, but he was
    getting tired of it. He wanted to settle down and start having kids. He felt
    like Sammi was just another child he was destined to
    spend his life taking care of. He needed to figure out how to get her to leave the
    party life behind. He was patient, but he wasn't going to wait forever. He kept
    pressuring her to grow up, but she only pushed back harder. She was treating
    him like a strict father she had to rebel against. And he was getting tired of
    it.

    He

    heard a car pull up to the house followed by Sammi
    staggering to the front door. It was unlocked, but she still struggled to get
    the door open. Her hair was a mess. She was wearing a tight black dress that
    wasn't fitting right, as if she had gotten dressed in a hurry. Her eyes were
    bloodshot, either from alcohol or lack of sleep. It took her a moment to
    realize Tom was sitting there watching her, but when she did her face broke
    into a huge smile. "Hey, baby!"

    "Where

    have you been? It's much too late to be getting in from a night out. The sun's
    already up. I was worried about you."

    Sammi sashayed over to wear Tom was sitting. She knelt down

    in front of him and started rubbing her hands along his thighs. "I have a
    surprise for you." She looked seductively into his eyes. "You've been
    interested in starting a family. I decided, sure, what the hell. So I went off
    birth control a month ago. I decided last night it was time to start working on
    making a baby."

    "What?"

    This was a surprise. Tom had not expected this. Although, it seemed odd that
    her idea of settling down and having kids started with an all-night binge.
    "Don't we need to talk about this first? I mean, how is this going to
    affect our marriage. Are you sure you want to settle down like this?"

    Sammi's hands had slid up and were massaging Tom's cock

    through his pajamas. He quickly hardened, but he was still distracted by what
    she was telling him. Kids? Really? He had discussed it with her before, but she
    had prett

    55 min
  • Amorous Goods: The Box
    Amorous
    Goods: The Box
    A box of surprising
    twists and turns.

    Based

    on a post by ShowTime8.
    Listen to the
    Podcast at Explicit
    Novels.




    Prologue:

    A

    lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
    the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
    relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
    administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
    she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
    with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
    is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.

    I

    hadn't received a registered letter in years. Heck, I hadn't even been to a post
    office in years. As I stood in line, I figured it was actually almost 5 years.
    When I bought my house, I was at the post office sending official letters and
    paperwork almost daily.

    After

    about twenty minutes in line, I finally turned over the registered mail
    receipt, and received a stiff brown envelope in return.

    "Well,

    that was disappointing." I told the clerk as I left.

    "Have

    a nice day." I heard in response.

    Walking

    outside into the Texas heat, I got into my car and started it to get cooled
    off. Looking at the envelope, it appeared to be from some sort of legal
    liquidator firm. Aside from the house purchase, I had no other contact with
    lawyers, so this was kinda interesting.

    Sir,

    We

    have determined through DNA testing you are related to our client. Please bring
    this letter to the address on this announcement, and proper identification. Do
    so on the date chosen for you, also printed on the announcement, or you will
    forfeit claim to items chosen for you.

    "DNA

    results?" I asked myself aloud.

    Googling

    the address, I found it to be about an hour's drive, in a warehouse of some
    sort, and in a decent part of town. So far, so good.

    Driving

    home, I felt I didn't have anything to lose by following the directions in the
    letter. So, a week later, I made my way across town where I found a nice
    storefront in a renovated warehouse complex. The entire area was a bustling
    conglomeration of businesses. There was a hotel, a large market, several
    restaurants, and surrounding apartments.

    After

    familiarizing myself with the environs, I made my way to the address. It
    appeared to be a simple, nondescript antique-consignment type of business. In
    the store windows there were several pieces of furniture and clothing
    displayed. It really fit into the vibe of this development.

    "A

    sex shop?" I asked myself as I red the sign over
    the door: Amorous Goods.

    Entering,

    the place smelled more like a candle shop than an antique store. That, and the
    ceiling was rather high, making it look really inviting. Just to the right of
    the door, the cashier was smartly located, and there were several aisles from
    which to choose to walk from my location. Each aisle seemed very neat and
    organized unlike your typical junk store places. All-in-all, I could see myself
    shopping here, and I'm glad I'm early to enjoy the store.

    Looking

    down the first aisle on my left, I see a few customers. I continue walking, and
    decide to walk down the next aisle where there are no customers. The objects
    along this particular aisle are of particular value. By that, I mean, this is
    no ordinary collection for sale. The items are all classic, quite valuable, and
    of wonderful quality.

    "Zoo?

    Is that you?" I hear from my right. Looking in her direction, I see Vikki,
    former roommate of an old girlfriend, looking at me from two aisles away.

    Vikki

    was never as daring as my girlfriend at the time, Paula. Paula had an
    exhibitionist streak that was not to be tamed, and I was the willing
    beneficiary of many of her adventures. Sex after exposing herself was off the
    charts amazing, and I won't deny my enjoyment of public nudity. On one
    particular trip to the beach, Vikki and her boyfriend joined us, not knowing
    what we were up to. The boyfriend ended up getting naked along with us, and
    Vikki eventually relented and went topless.

    At

    their apartment, I had never seen Vikki nude, but I could tell her body was
    smoking hot. At the beach, my suspicions were confirmed. Vikki has an amazing
    set of tits, and I enjoyed every moment I could to look at her body. As Paula
    and Vikki's boyfriend swam about 25 meters from us, I talked to her about
    nothing memorable and I could tell Vikki was getting comfortable, hopefully to
    the point of going completely naked like the three of us. I thought she was
    close when she turned over and pulled her bikini bottom up to tan an amazing
    ass. Her boyfriend tried coaxing her out of her bottoms as he applied sunscreen
    to her ass after returning from the water. Alas, that never materialized, but I
    was left with indelible memories of her mammaries.

    After

    the beach, life in their apartment loosened up considerably. Paula basically
    became an apartment nudist as she rarely wore clothes there. Vikki became a
    little comfortable with me. One day, I got to their apartment after work, and
    just before Paula got back from her job. With my key, I let myself in, and
    relaxed on the couch. I could hear the shower running and figured it was Vikki.
    My deduction was proven correct by a mostly naked Vikki walking from her room,
    wrapped in a towel, to the bathroom. Without a word from either of us, she kept
    going and I relaxed in front of the tv.

    I

    was awakened by Paula hanging her tits in my face as I had fallen asleep on the
    comfy couch. To this day, I wished it had been Vikki. Later that same month, I
    would receive a birthday gift from Vikki unlike any other. Again, I arrived at
    their place before Paula, but this time found Vikki in the kitchen and
    completely naked. I'll never forget our conversation.

    "Hey,

    I hear it's your birthday, so I wanted to surprise you with a little
    something." Vikki told a very shocked me.

    "If

    this is all you give me, I'm quite happy. Is there more?" I said as I
    stared at her body.

    "Oh

    yes. Take off your clothes." Vikki directed.

    Who

    was I to argue. I quickly stripped my clothes off. Vikki walked up to me,
    hugged me so I could feel her entire body against mine, then walked to her
    room.

    "Happy

    Birthday." That's all she said.

    I

    got dressed, and never mentioned it to Paula. From that point on, Vikki and I
    always shared a smile with each other, but I never got the courage to ask for
    more. I sure wish I had because Paula flew the coop one day for a nudist colony
    somewhere. I tried to find her, but gave up, then discovered Vikki had also
    moved out of the apartment and even her boyfriend quickly lost contact with
    her.

    I

    just kept working and figured it was all for the best. The person behind this
    mystery letter changed all that.

    "Hey.

    What are you doing here?" I ask, trying not to awkwardly check her out.

    "Well,

    the short story is I run the place." Vikki says, approaching me.

    "And

    the long story?" I inquire.

    "Well,

    that's why you're here. Let's go sit down in the private meeting room."
    Vikki says, pointing me to the back of the store. Following her, I couldn't
    help but check out her still incredible ass. My mind put it back into a thong
    on the beach as we made the short walk to the office.

    "C'mon

    in, and let me tell you this crazy story." Paula said, holding the office
    door open.

    Inside

    the somewhat normal office came the most fantastical story I could ever
    imagine. Vikki was apparently the lone surviving relative of a very rich man
    who collected incredibly valuable and, sometimes very weird, items. Vikki had
    to put her career on hold to manage the estate and liquidate the assets.

    "It

    pays well enough, I guess. I was able to leave my partner in charge of my
    business until I get this stuff sold." Vikki told me.

    "So,

    you have to sell everything out there?" I asked.

    "Yes.

    The tricky part is finding the correct buyer. It's almost like the stuff won't
    sell, except to very specific people."

    "Huh?"

    "It's

    hard to explain, but this store could be open for years before we sell
    everything. It's almost like each item has to be sold to a certain person.
    Everyone who buys something here has a story to tell about the item, or how
    they just felt compelled to buy it. I don't have much retail experience aside
    from a high school job, and I've never seen anything like this."

    "So...Amorous

    Goods?" I asked.

    "All

    I can figure is it applies to liking something in here. There are some adult
    things in here, and that's why I considered you." Vikki replied.

    "I'm

    not sure I understand."

    "I

    can't tell you much more, only that I want you to look around as long as you
    would like, even past closing time. There is definitely something here for you,
    but I don't want to ruin the experience for you." Vikki is vague,
    apparently on purpose, and opens the door for me.

    I

    head out into the store, and it seems somehow different. It's kinda hazy up
    near the lights hanging from the ceiling. The lights have dimmed like you see
    in restaurants as the sun sets during dinner. The smell of candles is still
    evident, but probably because there are lots of them burning; something I
    hadn't noticed before.

    From

    around the premises comes the sounds of my favorite piano player. The new age
    sounds of a single piano player turn the place into an even more
    atmospherically pleasing shopping experience.

    And

    shop I do, seemingly alone in a maze of shelves and tables. Yet, I walk with
    ease among the items. I'm so overcome by the music, I don't notice at first
    that most of the items seem blurry, but there is a definite halo inside my
    vision which allows me to only see the items one at a time. It's almost like
    looking through binoculars backwards, but everything is closer.

    "Umm,

    Vikki, what's......?" I'm stopped in my tracks by the fact the office I
    just exited is no longer behind me. I spin around, but am unable to find it.
    Gathering myself, I try to head in the same direction, or at least the way I
    think I was going. It's a little disconcerting, but I think I've red about
    people dropping acid and going through this type of thing.

    Even

    stranger is the music. As I walk, it seems to disappear. I stop in my tracks,
    looking around at the various items. I back up a few steps, and the music
    volume increases ever so slightly. I stop. Is my mind playing tricks? I see an
    opening to my right, another break in the aisles, and turn to walk that way.
    The music increases as I walk past a few perpendicular rows, then it decreases.
    I stop, and decide to turn again, this time to my left and am rewarded by an
    increase in the sounds of the piano.

    I

    know there's a reason for the music, but I slow down and begin looking at the
    individual items again. I'll let the music guide me intuitively, but I'm still
    very curious about all the stuff I can see.

    The

    music brings me around several aisles, where I find a box, by itself within my
    limited vision. As I approach, a piece of paper comes out of the top. Picking
    up the paper, I realize the box is what I am to leave with today.

    It

    reads: Take this box. From it, you will receive directions to make your
    desires, and those of people you choose, to come true.

    Touching

    the box to pick it up, the room suddenly illuminates and the music disappears.
    I also find my itself back at the register, looking out into shopping area
    around the store.

    "Vikki.

    We got another one." I hear the cashier say.

    "How

    did I get here?" I ask the cashier.

    "We

    see it all the time. Customers kinda wander around, oblivious to us, then come
    out of a trance-like state right here at the register." I hear Vikki say
    from behind me.

    "That

    was interesting. I almost panicked, but the music I heard kept me calm."

    "What

    music was it?"

    "My

    favorite, new-age solo piano."

    "Our

    customers almost always mention their favorite music. Anything else
    special?" Vikki asks.

    "Just

    that I was only able to see one item at a time, the office we met in
    disappeared, and this box produced a slip of paper directing me to pick it up.
    When I did so, I ended up here." I explain.

    "We

    hear that, as well, except each item has its own special way to attach to its
    owner. What did the paper say?" Vikki asks.

    "Something

    about making my desires come to reality."

    "Well,

    that's a new one. Usually, it's some childhood memory, or a material good, or
    just ownership of the item is meaningful in some way. Interesting. This is the
    most specific I've heard yet." Vikki explains.

    "So,

    now what?"

    "The

    box is yours. Enjoy it. We're here if you have any questions." Vikki
    formalizes the deal.

    Suddenly,

    the box spits out another piece of paper. It simply says: Tell her. I stop to
    think about this.

    "Well,

    can I have your personal number if I have any questions?" I ask Vikki.

    As

    soon as I ask, the box produces yet another paper, this one with a phone number
    on it.

    "Is

    this your number?" I ask her.

    "Well,

    that answers that. What else has the box told you?"

    "I

    can only tell you that in private. Shall we go talk?" I ask.

    "Lead

    the way." Vikki follows me back to the office.

    Back

    in the office, I put the box down on the table to thoroughly take a look at it.
    It's not heavy, but I only see the slot where the papers have come out. There
    don't seem to be any screws, or any way to open it. It's just slightly smaller
    than an old-school typewriter case. It's just a frills-free box made of wood.

    "Vikki,

    the message before your phone number said I need to 'tell you'. I think I know
    what it is." I say, turning to face Vikki as she closes the door.

    "What?"

    "I

    always wanted to ask you for more after you gave me that birthday present. I
    was shy, for whatever reason, not to mention I was having the time of my life
    with Paula. I'm not referring to wanting sex as much as I had always wondered
    what it would be like to date a normal girl, and not that nympho."

    "That's

    exactly why I thought of you for this shop. I figured you were just at that
    point in your life where you didn't know what you wanted, or where you were
    going. A more mature you is what I hoped to see walk in, and I wasn't
    disappointed." She tells me as she comes just a little closer.

    "Would

    you like to go get something to eat? I see there's quite a few choices in this
    complex." I move myself, closing the distance between us ever so slightly.

    Before

    Vikki answers, the box sends out another paper. On it is typed: You know her
    dreams.

    "You

    better sit down. I think I know what's going on." I direct Vikki to a seat
    at the table. "Let me know if this is too direct for you."

    "Okay.

    I can respect that." Vikki tells me.

    "When

    I was with Paula, I always just assumed there's a little of her in all of us.
    She was a one of a kind at times, and I was merely a witness to her unique
    nature. That said, I also felt like you might want to take part, in fact you
    did one time at the beach, and then you were quite comfortable around me in the
    apartment. Am I missing anything?"

    "Well,

    Zoo, I did try to seduce you just a little, but I chickened out. I would have
    loved to have been totally naked at the beach, but I wasn't quite ready. I was
    oh so close, though. I still get turned on by how you sat with me, you naked,
    me topless, and we just talked. I wasn't creeped out by you, and I became
    unaware of my body. If this isn't too much information, I had an incredible
    orgasm that night, and it wasn't because of My boyfriend." Vikki seemed a
    little embarrassed by her admission.

    "Like

    I said, your birthday gift to me was one of my most favorite ever. I have
    thought of you often. That said, let me cut to the chase. Where exactly do you
    want to expose yourself?" There, I said it.

    "Wow,

    Zoo, I don't think I charged you enough for that box. Did it really tell you
    that?"

    "Not

    in so many words."

    "Okay,

    well here goes nothing. I want to go to the beach again, or somewhere similar
    where I can go without, or even lose my suit. I want to work in here for a day,
    completely naked. I want to be seen, but without my knowing it. I don't want to
    be self-aware of my surroundings so I don't become inhibited. But, I also want
    to be forced to become naked, almost to the point of being raped. Is that too much?
    Can you work with that?" Vikki is suddenly relaxed with me.

    "Well,

    with the help of the box, and it appears it is going to be a big part of this,
    I know I can make these desires, and even more happen for you." I say with
    authority. "For example, take off your bra and put it on the table."

    "Why...?"

    Vikki starts to question me.

    "You

    don't always have to ask for a reason. In some circumstances, you should. But
    in this instance, there is no need. Just do it." I interrupt her.

    With

    those directions completed, Vikki stood up, unbuttoned her shirt, and deftly
    removed her bra. Placing it on the table, she rebuttoned
    the shirt and stood there. Her beautiful nipples were clearly outlined by the
    flimsy material; their hardness heightened by her heavy breathing.

    "My

    advice, or request, actually a demand is you should not wear a bra anymore.
    Look for those camisole shirts, or lacy undershirts to wear. You need to get
    used to your hard nipples and the fact men, not to mention women, love to look
    at your body. You should also only wear thongs. However, when we plan any type
    of activity, you are not to wear any underwear at all. Finally, you should
    expect to lose most of your clothing when you are around me, so make sure it's
    not anything you don't want to lose. Am I clear so far?" I tell Vikki.

    "Can

    I make requests?" Vikki asks.

    "Let

    the box do its job. I think it will guide us." I reply. "But, by all
    means, what would your first request be?"

    "My

    first request would be to go to the beach, and restart. I have make up for lost
    time, so why not go back to where it all started and seal the deal. From there,
    I'll be ready for just about whatever you want." Vikki smiles at me.

    "Well,

    we can go now and see what happens. Stay flexible." I maintain.

    Thus,

    it is decided. Vikki picks up her bra, and we walk to her personal office where
    she shoves it in her purse, and we walk out in the afternoon sun. Unless the
    box I am carrying interrupts us, I should have her completely naked on the sand
    well before the sun goes down.

    Vikki

    walks with a confidence I had never seen in her while I dated Paula. Her boobs
    moved freely under the shirt, and she walked undeterred to the parking lot.
    Letting me drive, Vikki also removed her panties and shoes, leaving on only her
    button down shirt and skirt.

    The

    box has stayed quiet the entire ride to the beach. I'm kinda glad, actually.
    Without suits, there is only one outcome for this trip. Well, at least for
    Vikki. I'm not sure how the box got us to this point, and now I'm not sure I
    can imagine where we'll go. At least I'm holding the ultimate icebreaker.

    We

    arrive at the beach as the last diehards are still laying out and the evening
    surfers dominate the water. I lock the car, and we walk onto the nearby sand,
    barefoot, and stroll close to the incoming tide. The foamy water covers our
    feet, then recedes, over and over.

    Without

    direction, or even a word between us, Vikki begins unbuttoning her blouse. I
    catch a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of her cleavage, and then she stops.
    Almost imperceptibly, she begins walking deeper and deeper into the surf. In
    doing so, the bottom of her skirt gets wetter, but Vikki keeps walking outward.
    The

    0 min
  • Amorous Goods: Gaudus, Sapphic Earrings, I Want You
    Amorous
    Goods: Season 1

        Prologue:

    A

    lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
    the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
    relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
    administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
    she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
    with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
    is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at
    Amorous Goods.

    Open

    the door, and take a step inside:

    Amorous Goods: Gaudus
    Invited a friend to
    safeguard me enjoying sexual artifact.

    Based

    on a post by ShowTime8.
    Listen to the
    Podcast at Explicit
    Novels.




    Prologue:

    A

    lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
    the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
    relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
    administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
    she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
    with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
    is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.

    Funny

    how much the preparation centered on my friend, Marie, and choosing a date when
    her husband was out of town at the same time my husband was traveling. Then the
    excuse to have her sleep over was not forced. Falling in October, I was incited
    to try the third gaudus, the last adventure, the
    forbidden.

    "The

    box is ornate," Marie said. "Very unusual. Where did you get
    this?" She hesitated but I encouraged her to trace the delicately carved
    design with her fingers. I perceived a small shudder and a momentary loss of
    focus before she fixated on the illustration, very similar to my reaction the
    first time I touched the motif and then all sorts of symbols and figures within
    the pattern seemed obvious. Hearts and circles with lines symbolizing classical
    gods of love, serpent-like marks fitting tribal archetypes of fertility, an arc
    pierced by an arrow from the occult, and more of the phallus and sexual feats.

    "I

    found this odd little shop in the city," I answered her question.
    "You'd probably call it the shady part of town. It was mixed in with smoke
    shops and sex boutiques and other stores selling incense and tarot cards and
    touristy kind of voodoo paraphernalia. I don't know why this shop seemed more
    authentic. As I entered, the owner led me to a back room where I could examine
    this box. She was like a gypsy, telling me small things about where I lived and
    my marriage that she probably guessed from my clothes or my words or my facial
    expressions to the things she was saying. She told me of her vision, of how I
    would visit and this box was meant for me, and it all became very convincing
    that somehow by fate I came to unite with this artifact.

    "And

    how does all this work?" Marie wanted to know. "Why do you light
    these candles around your room and place these crimson towels beside of your
    bed?"

    "I

    make it a ritual. Maybe it's my own doing. I wipe them lightly with the towels
    when I'm done and then I won't erode the natural oils with soap. The
    experiences guide me, like each time I do the gaudus
    I learn something new. I let my feelings guide me. For this occasion, for this
    third gaudus, I bought this special robe, this black
    satin robe. And I ask you to watch over me, to make sure nothing bad happens.
    Because I'm nervous. I'm anxious but more, I'm afraid."

    "What

    do you call them?" Marie wanted to know. "Each one is a gaudus, or a gaudu, or all three
    are gaudi?"

    "I

    don't know, the woman said 'Experience the gaudus'
    and I called each one a gaudus."

    I

    opened the lid and showed Marie the three wooden objects laying in their molded
    berths of velvet. Three small knobs like shoe horns or the neck of a bow that
    could fit in your hand and nest with your palm and the crook of your thumb. The
    shape and etchings evoked millennia of women seeking gratification. I touched
    the chestnut colored horn in the middle, and then the dark mahogany horn on the
    left. But not the light birch horn on the right.

    "They

    don't look like much," Marie commented, but her tone was friendly and
    light.

    "I

    thought that, too" I agreed. "But after you encounter one and you
    appreciate the way it grows on you, you won't look at them the same. The first
    one I experienced was this caramel colored piece in the middle. I was seduced
    by a bronzed Italian stud on the Riviera. It's crazy, but I think it
    happened."

    Marie

    looked surprised and also concerned for me.

    I

    continued, "This dark piece on the left took me to a wild adventure in the
    jungle, where I was forced to submit and yet I woke with rejuvenation. If you
    watch you will see, I know. But if you can, I fear what this third journey will
    bring, and I want you to safeguard no physical harm comes to me."

    "What

    makes you worried?" Marie asked. "Why is it different?"

    "There's

    a symbol on the bottom of it," I explained. I lifted the piece and showed
    her the end. "It's faint but that looks like a Christian cross, and
    roughly hewn. I feel a strange mixture of emotions when I touch it. And the
    color is pale, like death."

    "Let

    me touch it," Marie suggested.

    "It

    will be safer if I go first. You'll see how quickly these pieces transform. I'm
    certain of that. There are many aspects still unclear, as to what took place
    and what was imagination, and I questioned if I was losing my mind. But you
    will see the transformation. Watch."

    I

    rolled the pale wood in my fingertips and rubbed my thumbs up the smooth shaft
    of the bow. Instantly it was larger in my hands. I rubbed it across my chin and
    smelled the ruddy mix of blood and dirt and sweat. I brushed my cheek flush
    against the tip. I kissed the soft surface and let the round head nestle on the
    inside of my lips.

    My

    tongue tasted the underside. I made it wet with my saliva yet savored its own
    moisture. Heavy and masculine and aggressive. I was offended at first but
    became accustomed to it. Like the first time when that boy, Jared, kissed me. I
    wasn't expecting it and I could smell his breath and he must have eaten
    something like meat. The smell put me off but then I accepted it and learned it
    like coffee or liquor, and I could anticipate the depth of the kinship like
    knowledge itself.

    My

    thumbs and fingers worked the shaft, firm and full and slippery from my saliva.
    The slickness helped the shaft swell. I created friction through a circle of
    thumb and forefinger. It swelled in in my mouth as I pushed down to receive its
    length. I felt the ridge of the helmet bump my lips on each pass. I tried to
    extend my tongue to simultaneously tease the meaty underside and the tender
    skin along the middle ridge.

    A

    bright light pierced the darkness. The light shone in my eye and made me
    squint. I could barely discern the pale tip of the cock before my face as I
    held it in my hands. Above, the dark silhouette of shoulders and hood eclipsed
    the beam of light but I saw no facial features.

    "Do

    not hesitate," he commanded me. "You will accept the sacrament."

    I

    tried to catch my breath. I opened my mouth and extended my tongue to receive.
    He pushed into my mouth roughly, forcing to the back of my throat. It made me
    gag. At the same time I felt my vagina clench and send a tingle through my
    pelvis. His hands on the back of my head held me down.

    I

    pressed my hands against his thighs to hold him back but he moved my hands one
    at a time to his testicles. "Feel the weight," he commanded me. They
    were large and hairy as they hung in my fingers. I looked forward to the time I
    could make them retract and yield their juice.

    "You

    will stand and be naked before us," he said sternly. I stood as he raised
    my hands. He untied the front of my robe and pushed the collar back off my
    shoulders. I pulled the robe off the rest of the way and let it fall at my
    feet. Though the air was warm, I felt a chill on my nipples.

    "You

    have sinned," he yelled sternly.

    "No,"

    I screamed. "I have done nothing wrong.

    "Do

    not tell us the lame tale that you are a victim! We are not ignorant of your
    ways and the methods you young girls use to tease men. You led him to defile
    your body!"

    "No,

    I never asked for that," I said. "He forced himself on me."

    "Do

    not lie to us! We can make you tell the truth."

    "I

    said 'No' yet he forced himself."

    "Did

    he force himself in your mouth or in your womb?" The man's voice shook
    within my head.

    "First

    in my mouth," I answered. "We were kissing in the back of the car as
    any teenagers do. That is not a sin. He grabbed my head and forced me into his
    lap. I had not even seen in the darkness that he unzipped himself and his cock
    was hard. He shoved my mouth onto his cock. He smelled bad. I don't think he
    had showered in days. And his friends in the front were laughing as he fucked
    my head."

    "You

    enjoyed it!" the man demanded.

    "I

    did not want it," I protested.

    "When

    it happened, you took him in your mouth and you enjoyed it." I did not
    deny this. "And you led him to take your maidenhood?"

    "No,

    he stole my virginity. I never consented. He pushed me back on the seat and
    ripped my panties off. His friends leered at me over the front seat and one
    took my panties as a souvenir. He was too strong for me and I could not stop
    him. He pushed his cock inside of me and it was all I could do to withstand the
    sting as he took my virginity."

    "Do

    not lie to us!" he commanded again. "You did not close your legs or
    try to stop him. You did not scratch him or punch with those little fists of
    yours. You wished the others would have fucked you, too, that night."

    "They

    did not," I asserted.

    "You

    wished it," he insisted. "You wished as he thrust his manhood in your
    vagina and squeezed his hot sperm in your body that the others would
    follow."

    "I

    could not stop my body," I argued. "I was young but my body was
    disposed to mate. When he took control of my vagina and he stimulated my
    genitals then my mind could no longer stop it."

    "Look

    how wet you are," he demanded, shoving his fingers in my cunt. He pushed
    two fingers inside, sliding deeper in and out. Then he put those fingers to my
    mouth and made me taste my stimulation. "The devil has possessed your womb
    and makes you lead young men to sin."

    "They

    force their will upon me," I protested.

    "You

    will atone for your transgression." My hands were lifted roughly above my
    head and back, forcing me to fall back on the bed. I expected to feel the soft
    cushion of my mattress but it was hard and firm, a wooden plank to angle my
    body elevated and vulnerable. My hands were tied to the upper corners and I
    could not defend myself. The strain on the sinews of my shoulders sent a rush
    of adrenaline through my body. Standing between my legs, he opened his robe
    completely and revealed his erect cock at the edge of my vagina. It was not
    large or attractive, but he rubbed the tip on my lips and made them swell and
    open to want him.

    He

    pushed his cock slowly inside of me and the strength of his cock felt good
    against the tight cincture of my cunt. As he cleared the rim of my entrance and
    lubed my vagina, I felt wetness spread through my pelvis. I relaxed to take him
    and ease him deep within. The silhouette of his hooded frame hovered over me
    before the dancing flame of a torch ensconced on the wall.

    "You

    consort with the devil," the man breathed heavily in my face. His pelvis
    bumped my clitoris as he thrust completely inside. The electricity running up
    my spine prevented me from thought or speech. "He has chosen you and he
    will possess you."

    The

    man withdrew and left a hole of want and loss inside of me. I whimpered for him
    not to stop. My hands were taken and turned to force my body over, my nipples
    rubbing against the hard grain of the wood. I tried to press up on my elbows so
    my swollen nipples would not be scraped. The man pushed my legs apart sternly.

    "You

    wish to yield your anus," he commented.

    "No,

    I've never done that," I denied him.

    "You

    wish it," he corrected me. "You desire to take my cock and lose your
    anal virginity." He pressed his cock at the entrance of my anus. It was
    wet and firm and it set all of the tender nerves in my pelvis on fire. As he
    forced the head of his cock in the tight cincture of my ass I was powerless to
    relax but I could enjoy the friction of his strength within the trying rim of
    my muscles. My ass was struggling to stay closed and at the same time desiring
    him to push further. When he more fully entered my ass and fucked it as he had
    fucked my cunt, I appreciated the tight swish of his gnarly stick firing
    impulses all around my pelvis. Slick and tingling while tugging the sphincter.
    I wanted him to cum in my ass.

    "You

    will prepare him," the man commanded. I did not understand him. I was lost
    to his cock.

    "You

    will prepare him," the man repeated. I opened my eyes and saw the small
    dark knob before my face. It was the mahogany gaudus
    now brushing my cheek. I smelled its musk. The deep, meaty odor of animals
    rutting in the jungle. I opened my mouth and sucked on the head and then the
    shaft of this black cock. It was instantly swollen, much more quickly than I
    had experienced before. The foreskin protecting the helmet retracted and I
    could run my tongue on the edgy rim of the head. It tasted earthy and scorched
    like burnt wood or incense. I licked more eagerly to understand the complexity.

    The

    black cock was full now and impaled in my throat. I relaxed my esophagus to
    deep throat the shaft. Bigger than I remembered but pushed slowly without
    coercion to allow me to swallow. When I choked for air he withdrew. He pressed
    his testicles to my face and I kissed them. I snaked my tongue under his balls
    and teased the meaty bulge between his scrotum and anus. He lifted one leg
    before my face to let me lick this area and taste the nasty, dirty ooze of his
    sweat and filth. I longed to lick his testicles and suck his cock at the same
    time.

    The

    man stopped fucking my ass but held still within me. He rolled me over and now
    I lay back against his chest with his cock fully up my butt. His legs wrapped
    around my ankles and held my legs spread open. He grabbed my wrists and forced
    my arms behind me to the small of my back, clutched in one of his hands,
    arching my frame and tilting my hips.

    "You

    will receive his wonder," the man commanded in my ear. "You will take
    the darkness and feel the utter glory of his power.

    The

    black cock pushed into my vagina. I had never felt two at once. The pressure
    within was unbearable as the man in my ass pressed my muscle wall against the
    black cock. The black man sensed the limits of my body and slid slowly.
    Contortions flashed across my face. My cunt melted to a river flowing on his
    shaft. When he was completely inside, and the crux of his groin bumped against
    my clit, then he increased the pace and hit all the ribs of my vagina in cycles
    of fire.

    His

    body was so hairy over me. I saw the hair shooting from his head before the
    fire of the torch. There may have been smoke from the torch or incense burning
    that made it hard for me to focus. I could smell the obscure and foreign aroma
    of incense mixed with his sweat as he grunted close to my face. I thought for a
    moment those might be horns or was I imagining shapes from his spiky hair in
    silhouette? His hands were rough like paws on my shoulders to hold me down as
    he thrust inside and bumped my cervix. Fortunately, the man behind laid still
    within my ass to let the black man dictate the progression, but he teased my
    nipples with his free hand. His fingers were normal and soft enough to
    titillate me without harm.

    "That's

    so beautiful," the woman whispered in my ear. Her voice surprised me.

    "Is

    that your disciple?" the man behind asked me gruffly.

    I

    tried to see her face to understand who. Her hair was darker, straighter and a
    little longer than I remember Marie's. Her eyebrows were full and thick, but
    sharp above her eyes. Her lips were red with a tint of lipstick between rose
    and blood. And she wore my robe, or she had found a satin robe almost identical
    to the one I had been wearing. By the way her nipples pressed the fabric, I
    perceived she was not wearing anything else.

    "Did

    you bring a disciple to assist your breeding?" the man behind asked
    further. The woman only smiled at me and brushed my cheek gently. The lightness
    of her nails barely touching my skin contrasted how vigorously the black man
    thrust in my cunt. She leaned down and kissed me with those red lips. It was
    wrong and I tried to turn away. She held my chin and edged her tongue between
    my lips and tried to fuck my mouth with it.

    The

    woman withdrew. She traced the caramel gaudus down
    the bridge of my nose and poked my cheek with it. Then she leaned back slightly
    with a smirk and inhaled the tip of the gaudus. I
    tried to focus, to understand if it was Marie, but she seemed more like a
    relative, perhaps Marie's younger cousin. She slobbered on the gaudus and then turned it sideways before my eyes, sliding
    her tongue under the length to tease me. As it grew, the woman sucked it within
    the O of her lips. She let it pop out with a distinctive smack and touched it
    lightly to my lips. I tasted the rich Tuscan sun that I knew so well but mixed
    now with the woman's slaver. I tried not to react so it would not encourage her
    but I knew the waves of vigor from the dark cock that owned my cunt overwhelmed
    me and sent ripples of submission across my face.

    The

    woman smiled and formed her lips to an O again, yet overly demonstrative to
    make me watch. She sucked the cock deeply. I saw her tongue poke out to tease
    the tender bulge, as I had done, and letting her spit pool to a drop running
    down to his balls. He stepped close to my head, which blocked the dim light of
    the flame, and I could only see shadows of his testicles near my forehead and
    the massive curve of his thigh and the intricate curve of her lips sliding on
    his cock. It seemed that he wanted me to watch the cock I loved being sucked by
    another.

    The

    man in my ass started to hump slightly. Just a subtle counter movement to the
    large, black cock stuffing my vagina like a piston. My eyes rolled back as I
    lost control.

    The

    caramel cock pushed at my lips now. He was standing over me and I saw nothing.
    I tilted my neck back to take the length of his cock directly down my throat. I
    enjoyed the familiarity of his shape. But I also tasted the unusual saltiness
    of the woman. Or it could have been a mix of the woman and his pre-cum. I was swimming
    in the simultaneous fucking of my cunt, my ass and my mouth.

    Fingers

    playing lightly over my nipples. It completed the sensation on all parts of my
    body. Delicate fingers pinching and rolling my nipples, and barely brushing
    over the tops like wind. Small, graceful touches. Not his fingers but hers.

    The

    proctor stated in my ear, "You like her touch."

    I

    mumbled on the cock, "No, I did not seek sex with another woman."

    "Yes,

    confess it!" he countermanded me. "You have fantasized about a woman
    touching you." My Italian lover withdrew his cock, now dangling over my
    face. The woman leaned forward and slurped at the tip, as though trying to
    taste my sex with him as much as to pleasure th

    1 hr 17 min
  • Dave's Journey Back To Nature: Part 6

    Dave's Journey Back To Nature: Part 6A Naturist Media Empire.

    Based on posts by Big galoot, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.



    Suzi, the entertainer.

    We all sat there a little lost for words, Annie eventually saying "Well I'd sign up just for the views in the garden."

    We all smiled at this before Suzi said, "Do you think she did that all off the top of her head, unscripted and unplanned."

    I

    nodded before saying "I think so, she just a complete natural. She
    manages to combine a relaxed wholesomeness with an incredible
    sexuality."

    Annie laughed, "Dave, When did you become so articulate?"

    "I know what you mean; normally he just rubs his cock like an ape and says 'I'd like to fuck that'.

    I

    stuck my tongue out at the two laughing women before all our attentions
    turned to Muriel and BJ who were coming through the door. Muriel was
    still naked and smiling broadly, her face alight with the cold and the
    excitement. Annie gave BJ a ‘thumbs-up’ and he smiled, whether because
    of the Wi-Fi, or something else, I'm not sure.

    Suzi stood and embraced Muriel, "You were incredible, did you just make that up off the top of your head?"

    "I

    did. I considered winking at the camera with my asshole when I was bent
    over, but decided to do it with my eye at the end." When we all stopped
    laughing Muriel said, "That was so exhilarating and exciting I want to
    do it every day. How did it look on the screen?"

    "Brilliant." Annie said, "The quality was great and you were mesmerizing."

    Muriel

    went and put a dressing gown on to warm up a bit, when she returned she
    said, "So what do we do now, can we post it online?"

    "We

    could but there's no real point." BJ said. "Firstly I need to set Annie
    up in her cabin so she can broadcast tonight. After she's finished I
    can come back here and set up your site, get you a paywall and then
    you're good to go. We can post that as your intro video and I can show
    you how to add content yourself."

    "Wonderful, why don't you both come back for a celebratory meal and we can do it after, if we're not too jolly."

    It

    turned out Annie wanted to rent two cabins, one to live in and one as a
    studio to film in. I helped them carry their gear in and then left them
    to get ready, Annie telling me the cam site she was on and to make sure
    we all watched later.

    We

    logged on and hardly recognized the bedroom she was filming from,
    whatever they'd done with the lights it looked amazing. Annie was sat in
    a large swivel chair I'd carried in earlier, smiling as big as ever.
    "Do you think we should have another small glass of wine while we
    watch?" Muriel asked, Suzi looking at her as if it was a silly question;
    I went to the kitchen and opened a new bottle.

    I

    could hear them both giggling and wondered what I was missing, corking
    the bottle in my haste to get back. "What have I missed?"

    "Nothing too exciting, just Annie undoing a button and squeezing her tits through her shirt." Muriel said.

    "That's enough for Dave to start wanking." Suzi chided me.

    "You don't give me any credit, I'd want to see at least two buttons undone." I feign indignation.

    She'd

    only been on ten minutes but already had over forty viewers, as if they
    were waiting for her to come on. "I think I'll start the cooking, call
    me when it heats up." With that Muriel left and went to the kitchen,
    leaving the two of us alone for the first time that day.

    "How you doing, it's been a strange day." I said as I hugged Suzi.

    "I'm doing ok, excited and nervous at the same time, I can't believe we've agreed to film ourselves naked."

    I

    was about to point out that last year, plenty of people had cameras
    when she posed as Lady Godiva but before I could Suzi leant in and gave
    me a gorgeous, sumptuous kiss, only interrupted by Muriel shouting. "I
    seem to be low on potatoes. Do you have any over at your cabin?"

    "I

    think we do, I'll go and have a look." Suzi kissed me again and said,
    "See you soon lover boy, don't get too excited by Annie’s cam show."
    Before standing and leaving.

    After a few minutes Muriel returned, saying she couldn't do anymore til Suzi came back.

    Annie

    was up to eighty viewers and began removing her shirt. Her tits were
    pushed up in an undersized bra, "I love her tits." Muriel said, almost
    lecherously. I was smiling at this when Annie’s face suddenly turned
    away from the camera, a surprised looked replaced by an even bigger
    smile.

    51 min
  • Dave's Journey Back To Nature: Part 5

    Dave's Journey Back To Nature: Part 5The Energetic Naturists, in a lockdown.

    Based on posts by Big galoot, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.



    The

    naturist photoshoot was much more fun than I anticipated. It gave
    license to delightful ‘touchiness’. As we were catching our breaths and
    chatting James was looking through his shots, "I think I have some great
    ones. What next Muriel?" He was definitely getting into his stride.

    "I think David should chase me but I'm old and will be easy to catch, I think he should chase me with Annie on his back."

    I wasn't expecting that and nor was Annie but she was the first to respond, "sounds like fun."

    I

    knelt down and Annie climbed onto my back, her legs around my waist and
    her arms around my neck, as I stood she held on tightly, pressing
    herself into me, her short legs spreading further until I could feel her
    mound rubbing against my lower back, and her boobs squished into me.
    She wiggled up and down a bit, rubbing herself against me.

    "Comfortable?" I asked

    "Oh yes." She answered a little huskily.

    "Before we start running I think you should get some still shots, come here and stand behind Annie." Muriel said.

    James did this and then Muriel told him to kneel down. I heard him gasp and then he started clicking away.

    "You dirty bitch! I'm completely exposed, he can see everything from down there." Annie said laughing.

    She

    obviously wasn't too worried because she arched her back and stuck her
    ass out, exposing even more to the camera, all the time whispering in my
    ear, "I'm so wet, I think I'm dripping."

    "I think they're the most incredible shots I've taken."

    "Stick with me kid, with my dirty mind and your camera skills we'll make a great double act."

    As we were laughing at this Annie was still whispering in my ear and rubbing herself off against me.

    "Oh

    James, you have to get a close up of this, I've never seen Dave's
    tallywhacker looking so big, what do you think Muriel?" Suzi asked,
    smirking and making it obvious she knew what was going on.

    Muriel

    played right along, saying, "definitely the biggest it's ever been." As
    she encircled it with her thumb and forefinger, making sure James got
    shots emphasizing the fact they didn't meet. They were right, I was
    ready to burst, but work to do first.

    Muriel

    ran slowly with James behind her, stopping and bending as if out of
    breath, insisting he took pictures of her exposed holes, "they're for my
    private collection."

    We

    could have caught her easily, but Annie whispered for me to go slow as
    she was enjoying it. She was beginning to feel heavy, but as her
    breathing changed, and she started to wiggle faster I forgot about the
    weight. Her mouth was next to my ear and a cascade of oh and ah;
    followed by "fuck, fuck, fuck I'm cumming."

    She was letting everyone within five hundred yards know she'd orgasmed, and she nearly deafened me.

    As

    she settled I went to put her down but Muriel had other ideas, "you
    haven't caught me yet." So off we went again, Annie no longer whispering
    as she said, "take it slowly, my nips are sensitive and my clit’s on
    fire."

    To

    Annie’s relief, Muriel let us catch her easily but insisted on mounting
    from the front for our hug. She managed to clamber up and sat astride
    me, teasing my upright pole with her twat, allowing James to click away
    merrily as she did so. I stood a bit with both women wrapping their
    bodies around me, their tits and cunts grinding in. This should have
    been erotic for me, but I was concentrating on bracing my body against
    the weight. It was only when Muriel and Annie started kissing over my
    shoulder and then both nibbling at my ear that my legs turned to jelly.

    Muriel

    was in her element "I think we should all have some more wine before
    our next shots or maybe some water, better still wine and water." While
    the rest of us recovered on the grass, Suzi and Jenna went to get the
    refreshments. "Bring the baby oil back with you." Muriel shouted after
    them.

    "How are the photos coming?" I asked James

    "Incredible, I can't believe some of the shot's I've got, very hot and erotic."

    "Was it weird taking those sort of pictures of your sister."

    "Yes and no, as I got into it I forgot she was my sister, it was only after she came that I felt a bit embarrassed."

    "Not ones for the family photo album then?"

    "I wouldn't put it past her."

    When they returned with the refreshments I made a beeline for Suzi, feeling a wee bit guilty.

    0 min
  • Dave's Journey Back To Nature: Part 4

    Dave's Journey Back To Nature: Part 4The Business Turn-around.

    Based on posts by Big galoot, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.



    The three of us found ourselves sat naked, prim and properly behind our booth.

    As

    you can imagine our booth was very popular, and you can't keep a good
    man or woman for that matter down. Everyone was very polite asking the
    same, repetitive questions. Many complimenting Suzi and Muriel.

    "I'm

    bored." Said Suzi and we agreed that it was getting tedious and quite
    anti-climactic. "I have an idea, I'll do it first, then you have to
    follow."

    "What?" I perked up.

    "Wait and see, I'm waiting for a dishy man to come along."

    She didn't have to wait long, before a well-built local lad sauntered over.

    "That was a lovely show you put on there, ladies."

    "Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Have you ever visited our Arundel holiday resort?"

    "No, but I've thought about it."

    Suzi

    stood up, allowing her hair to fall away from her boobs and the top of
    her pussy lips to be seen between her closed legs. She leant forward and
    opened up a leaflet, explaining it to the young lad, but he wasn't
    listening.

    After

    he left, we all had a good giggle and I was volunteered next. I asked
    Muriel to point out some locals who might be up for a good laugh.

    "That's Jill, whose original idea this all was. Over there, with her sister. I'll call them over."

    They approached rather sheepishly, but were calmed by our big smiles.

    "I hear you've had an exciting day." Jill said

    "And it's all down to you and your marvelous idea." I praised her.

    Jill blushed a bit at this and I took it as my cue, I stood up with my semi erect cock bouncing around in front of me,

    "Ladies,

    let me buy you a drink; as a thank you." As I said this I maneuvered
    towards them, Jill nearly jumping backwards, but her sister a much
    cooler customer. Staring directly at my rocket, she said, "Where do you
    keep your money?"

    I

    gestured reaching for my wallet, then acting like I misplaced it. My
    hands slapped one ass cheek, then the other. Then I shrugged in an ‘I’m
    so sorry’ sort of way.

    We all burst out laughing and bade farewell to the good-natured sisters.

    "I

    don't know if I can top that." Said Muriel, still laughing "and besides
    the festival is closing shortly. Thank you both so much for one of the
    nicest, most fun, and exciting days I've ever had. I love you both." We
    all welled up and came in for a big hug, a family hug.

     The  bookings rocketed and the Arundel Resort went from strength to strength, generating more great opportunities.

    First,

    the local and regional press covered all the event. A Few Fleet Street
    London papers reposted the frackus. One rather cheeky tabloid did a
    feature report, a few days later, carrying a background history of the
    ‘Hippy Free-Love Resort.’

    Then, the targeted audience, those who are serious about nudism; all read our feature article about the resort.

    It was focused on Naturism for a new generation. Within weeks our resort was booked full, well into late September.

    Muriel

    hired Geri, who is Mary’s lover, and just happens to be the daughter of
    Jim & Muriel’s old friends and patrons, since the 80s. Geri was
    asked  to help with publicity and promotions. Geri had arranged an
    ongoing advertising contract with H & E magazine. This allowed the
    resort to seal the deal and bring in folks from a worldwide draw.

    Geri had reserved a block of Chalets for a reunion of fellow 2nd generation

    naturists. She asked them to feel free to invite a partner, as well.
    The reunion was planned for mid-august. Geri structured the activities
    with the help of Mary. Suzi and I just helped wherever a need arose.
    Suzi and I had no idea how much our ‘Godiva Event inspired the reunion
    group. They wanted us to participate in everything, even though we
    didn’t share their legacies.

    Muriel

    loved that week more than any. She said it was like going back in time,
    to when she and Jim were with several dozens of ‘flower children.’

    In

    September, an aging folk group, from sixties fame, was booked for an
    outdoor concert. It brought out many of the original hippies, Suzi and
    Dave arranged with Mike, to lease his hayfield across the road from the
    entrance gate. There, the tents, RV and campers filled the horizon.

    49 min
  • Dave's Journey Back To Nature: Part 3

    Dave's Journey Back To Nature: Part 3Jill, Mike, and Penny Contrive a publicity plan.

    Based on posts by Big galoot, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.



    On Thursday, Geri phoned. She spoke with Muriel for a while before being handed back to me,

    "How you doing?" Geri asked.

    "Good. A strangely odd week, very hard for poor Muriel; but we're getting there."

    "How's the resort looking, have you got many bookings."

    "I

    think there's a couple for this weekend and Suzi and I are going to
    sort out the chalets tomorrow for them. A few more next weekend, after
    that I don't know, why?"

    " Remember I said I'd ask around, see if anyone had any ideas."

    "Yes."

    "Well Freddy Spencer, one of my old chums from the Arundel Naturist Resort, is now the editor of H & E magazine."

    Geri sounded really excited but I didn't know what she was talking about.

    "H & E magazine is like the naturist bible, it's run for and by naturists."

    "Ok and?" I pressed.

    "Well, like me, Freddy has some fond memories of coming down there with his parents. They were lovely, innocent, naked days,"

    "That's great, but how does that help us now?"

    "Well

    Freddy would like to come and do an article about the place, promote it
    as a fun, welcoming place to be. He says he'll give us a four page
    spread, and if we can make it look fun, with a good mixture of young and
    old, then it should do wonders for the resort’s image and bookings."

    "Sounds great but how are we going to do it, there's very few people booked in for the next few weeks."

    "They normally use professional, perfect models for their shoots, but I think we can make it more real, more natural."

    "How so."

    "I've

    volunteered myself, Mary, you and Suzi to be models, I'm was also
    thinking about Muriel, but with Jim passing away I don't know."

    Fine for me, Suzi or Geri, But I could never see Mary agreeing. "What doe's Mary think of it?"

    "I haven't told her yet."

    I found myself shaking my head and laughing. "Good luck with that."

    I

    told Muriel about it, and she was over the moon! Her spirits
    immediately lifted, chattering away about where we could take the photos
    and such.

    There

    was a knock at the door and I said I'd get it. Mike Squires and his
    wife, Penny, were standing there along with two other neighbors; come to
    show their condolences.

    When the visitors entered the living room, Muriel seemed pleased as she stood to greet them.

    "So good of you all, to come over."

    To make ourselves useful; Suzi and I asked if anyone wanted tea,

    "Maybe something a bit stronger?" Muriel said.

    Everyone had a drink and they were having a good old natter, telling stories about Jim and 'the good old days'.

    We

    just sat and enjoyed listening, keeping everyone's glasses topped up.
    The conversation eventually got around to Muriel's plans for the future
    and for the holiday resort.

    "Well

    I hope to keep it running, although my bookings are way down on
    previous years. But these two lovely young people are going to help, so
    we might manage."

    "Yes; I met Dave and Suzi the other day and the place is already looking better." Mike said, smiling at Suzi.

    0 min

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