Featuring free erotica ebooks from Smashwords authors and publishers. ADULT CONTENT: These books contain subject matter not suitable for children. If you're under 18, or erotica's not your thing, please enjoy these cute hamsters instead.

	Daddy Catches His Little Slut (Daddy Sex Stories)	by Candy Young Oct. 21, 2011	3455 words	Read a sample
	When Christy’s stepfather comes home early and finds her nearly naked with a guy in her room, he is absolutely furious. But when she notices the bulge in his pants, his little slut decides to do whatever she can to make up with Daddy.
	Author bio: I apologize for removing all the books in this collection. I appreciate all of your support. As a writer, it means a great deal to me. Unfortunately, this book collection has been removed in accordance with Smashword's request. Paypal objected to the stories content (although they were between consenting, unrelated, legal adults), and therefore, to comply, each of my stories have been removed from Smashwords. Thank you for understanding.
	Thirty Minutes Till	by Evangeline Love Jan. 27, 2011	3436 words	Read a sample
	A sequel to Thirty Minutes or less: Two years has done nothing to suppress Reese’s need for Charlie and now that she is back in her beloved small town she is plagued with reminders of the too brief time they shared. What would she do if she ran into Charlie? Would she turn tail and run… again? Or give into the rare connection they share…
	Author bio: After attempting but failing miserably at college and snoozing through her ten hour work days Eve knew she needed to do something more exciting with her life. What started out as a hobby, quickly turned into several stories, some short, some long, some dead ends and some just no good at all. Evangeline is a sucker for a happy ending, a chocoholic and the rare person who loathes coffee. She loves being able to create worlds in which your everyday person can find true love and happiness... And maybe a little something to singe the sheets.
	The Honey Trap Files Vol.1 - The Recruit - (A CJ Mills Sexcapade)	by Bebe Smith April 12, 2012	3285 words	Read a sample
	In the first instalment of an explicit new series, CJ Mills is being interviewed for the position of professional 'Honey Trapper' - someone who is paid to seduce men (and women) who are suspected by their partners of cheating. But CJ doesn't stop at just the come-on, she's wants the full cum, and there's nothing she won't do to make sure she gets it. Vol.1 of The Honey Trap Files.
	Author bio: I'm a Santa Monican by birth, but am now living in a sleepy, chocolate box English village. I live quite a prim and proper life by day, but at night I like to lock the door and while away the hours writing down all my fantasies, then sharing them with you. My tales take place mainly in the L.A. of my youth, but since discovering just how much sex goes on behind the closed doors of 'genteel' English country villages, I'm hoping to bring some of those saucy stories your way, too, so stay tuned!
	Rough Sex In Her Lonely Cabin	by Kitty Meaker Jan. 26, 2012	3241 words	Read a sample
	The cowboy rides the open road. The woman's husband is off to war. When two lonely souls meet in an isolated cabin, what else is there to do? Their mutual need becomes mutual pleasure... and maybe something more.
	Author bio: An innocent office lady by day, Kitty Meaker spends her nights writing filthy stories to fulfill her dirtiest fantasies.
	The Lovership: To the Rescue	by Jazzie Dixson Jan. 13, 2012	3240 words	Read a sample
	Blaze steps out of the car…smooth, dark skin, white shorts, pink shirt, and bulging muscles. Not too much, but ahhh just enough. Such a gentleman. He opens the door and ushers Jazzie into the car gently. It had been far too long since she had something for herself. She wasn’t getting any of what she needed from anyone. Could Blaze save her from the mess she found herself in? Would he be willing?
	Author bio: An avid writer since childhood, Jazzie Dixson is from the midwestern United States. She enjoys reading and is a great fan of authors Nicky Charles and John Grisham. Married and mother of two, Jazzie writes on a wide range of topics. Her interest in erotica stems from an understanding that sex and intimacy are meant to be beautiful. She calls herself 'blessed' for having encountered men who appreciated her involvement in the sexual process, realizing that she always saw her role as a woman--who is supposed to both give and receive pleasure. One man, in particular, her lover for many years--Blaze Fowler--always understood the concept and lent himself willingly to the process.
	No Kissing, No Touching	by Asher MacDonald Dec. 06, 2010	3188 words	Read a sample
	Charlee should never make a bet after two margaritas, especially with Will, who she has been dating but keeping at bay. Now it's time to pay up. She's not sure what little sex game Will has in mind, but Charlee has set the ground rules: No Kissing, No Touching.
	Author bio:
	Jarod	by I.G. Frederick Nov. 02, 2011	3108 words	Read a sample
	Geneviéve, a forty-something divorcée, accepts an offer from a twenty-four-year-old co-worker to help her move into her new condo. She volunteers to make him dinner as a thank you, but he has other ideas. (Approximately 2,500 words. Contains graphic sex.)
	Author bio: Check back regularly here for new erotic fiction or subscribe to http://eroticawriter.livejournal.com/ to learn when I've posted new stories. If you've purchased a short story and then wish to purchase the collection containing that story, contact her for a coupon. (Proof of purchase required.) ~~~~~~~~~~~~ I.G. Frederick has specialized in erotic fiction and poetry since 2001 and has sold numerous short stories and poems to various print and electronic publishers. Her novels have received high praise from readers, critics, and other writers. I.G.'s short stories have appeared in Hustler Fantasies, Forum, Foreplay, Desire Presents, as well as electronic, audio, and print anthologies. You can read reviews of her work, find links to purchase her novels and poetry collection, and learn what short stories she will publish next on her website. (www.eroticawriter.net) In addition, I.G. Frederick is an accomplished book designer and together with the awesome artist Nyla Alisia (http://www.nylaalisia.net/) and her submissive Patrick (web designer extraordinaire) provides services to indie authors and small presses as part of Pussy Cat Press (http://pussycatpress.com/). Pussy Cat Press services include elegant cover design for print and electronic books (check out the fabulous new covers for Broken, Shattered, and Dommemoir), print and electronic book formatting/design, and web development and design.
	Sex by the Book (M/F Public Sex Erotica)	by Jessi Bond March 26, 2012	3082 words	Read a sample
	Ellie's got a problem: What's a lonely librarian to do on a hot, sticky summer day when nobody's coming to check out her books? Why - have hot sex with the first handsome stranger who comes along, of course! Warning - this m/f story contains hot foreplay, public sex, and a sizzling money shot. Proceed with caution!
	Author bio: Jessi lives in upstate New York with her husband, two pets, and a filthy, filthy muse.
	Hallowing Eve	by Alessia Brio Oct. 09, 2009	3071 words	Read a sample
	Bad weather, a secluded mountain cabin, and a big box o' sex toys provide the backdrop for Lisa's seduction of her colleague, Eve. This story was first published by Torquere Press in its Fresh Off the Vine 'zine. It also appeared in the print edition of Alessia Brio's debut collection, fine flickering hungers.
	Author bio: Take one part Appalachian redneck, one part aging wet dream, and one part filthy-minded wordsmith. Mix well and serve with chocolate-covered cherries. There you have the one and only Alessia Brio. Alessia writes all colors and flavors of erotica, from heterosexual to menage to same sex, and from twisted to humorous to deeply touching. (Sometimes, usually by accident, it even qualifies as romance.) Her work has earned her critical acclaim in the form of a few EPIC eBook Awards for Best Erotica, a couple Next Generation Indie Book Awards, and a Romantic Times Top Pick in addition to a plethora of glowing online reviews. Not all of Alessia's publications are allowed here on Smashwords due to censorship. Readers interested in the full catalog are encouraged to visit her label's website at www.PurpleProsaic.com
	Mina Goes American: Office Femdom Short Sex Fiction Erotica	by Joe Brewster Oct. 24, 2009	3012 words	Read a sample
	Mina is a gorgeous Swede who is new to America and having trouble with the sexual politics of the American workplace. When Mina unknowingly turns a guy into her personal Office Bitch a few of her female coworkers explain to her over lunch the ins and outs of American Office FemDom behavior. Humorous short fiction
	Author bio: Ever since Moby Dick became The Great American Novel writers have dreamed of putting together their own version of epic greatness: I had the same ambition and my quest failed as badly as Ahab's quest for the great white whale. The Sex Monster gobbled it up. I prepared for my quest by devouring every book I could find on how to write novels. These books were written by successful novelists. Several of the authors revealed a curious fact: they had sharpened their writing skills churning out sex novels-- so-called porn--before they ever placed a manuscript with a 'legit' publisher. This struck me as odd but I paid it no mind. I took it merely as trivia. I plowed ahead with my plan to apply all my attention to my Great American Novel; any 'practice novels', porn or otherwise, seemed like a waste of resources and precious writer 'mojo'. I gathered all my notes and character outlines and got down to business. I put fresh lines on paper but I soon lost the thread and the story slipped away. So I took it apart and began sorting it out and tightening it up. But after my third or fourth re-write I had 100 stale pages that sagged under the weight of empty prose before the whole thing gave way and came apart at the seams. I needed to practice writing stories that had 'a beginning', 'a middle', and 'an end', to get a feel for how a story should develop. The way I went at it I was going nowhere not-so-fast. That's when my mind drifted to thoughts of smut: I decided to write my own 'porn' novel. When I first read about the authors 'honing their chops' writing porn I just thought it was odd. But it actually made sense. Sex had built-in conflict-- the basis for every good story-- and, where sex is concerned, who doesn't let their emotions overrule common sense? That is the basis for all irony (I loved irony) so I gave it a try. The great thing about that was I no longer felt any pressure to write perfect prose. It was strictly practice and so words flowed and great characters popped up out of nowhere. I had nothing to lose but my novel-writing virginity. I went for it. My novel experiment was set in a telemarketing office and like most first novels it was based on true events. So I wrote what I knew. According to the experts that is practically Novel Writing 101. I worked answering phones for an inbound telemarketing company. Afternoons were slow. Hours passed with no calls coming in. Reps were free to use the down-time as we pleased. Most reps sat and gossiped. I read books. To my way of thinking I got paid to read books. I learned things. I had my own on-the-job scholarship. That's actually where I read most of my how-to-write-a-novel books. One night my gossiping coworkers played a 'Name Game' where they took turns naming a person and the rest of them had to say if they found the nominee sex-worthy. I kept my nose in my book but I couldn't help overhearing. They started off with movie stars and celebrities and famous politicians and such. No one agreed on anything. One person's fantasy was another person's nightmare. Then talk turned to our absent coworkers and whether or not they were bedroom material. Again, no one agreed -- until Mildred's name came up. Mildred was our section leader. She sat at the head of the room and, in contrast to the rest of us, always seemed busy doing some work-related chore. She was taking a rare smoking break when the crew started talking about her. Mildred had the most perfect set of legs I have ever seen on a living person. They were dazzling. They were sexy. They were mind-boggling actually. I would look at them and try to figure out what it was that made them so perfect. I couldn't. A thousand other women must have had legs that were almost identical to hers-- but not quite. That slight difference made all the difference in the world. Mildred's legs blew my mind. There were times when I'd thank God for the simple pleasure of having Mildred's legs to look at on long boring nights. The first time I saw Mildred I walked up to her from behind; checking out her short skirt and her legs and heels in the process. Her auburn hair swung about her shoulders as she turned to face me. I'd have guessed her age to be anywhere from 18 to 29--- until she faced me. She was every bit of 60. I nearly gasped with surprise. Mildred's age startled me but it did nothing to dampen my admiration--and lust--for her legs. They were still absolutely flawless; smooth and shapely; without a trace of 'spider' veins that woman much younger than her are often prone to. She was a genetic marvel. I know I'm going on and on about her legs so I'll stop--but one last thing: her whole body looked hot; at least from what I could see of it with her clothes on. She stood 5' 6" barefoot. Weighed 105lbs. Measured about 34-24-34. Slim and well proportioned. So imagine my astonishment when her name was offered up for sexual review and the response was immediate, unanimous, and utterly negative. The gossip crew freaked-out at the thought of any sexual contact with Mildred. They wouldn't touch that lady if their life depended on it. Their attitude ticked me off! I slammed my book down and was all set to tear into them. I was just about to shout that they were all crazy--- out of their freaking minds--- and announce that I'd go down on that woman in a heartbeat if I had the chance--when Mildred walked in. Luckily, I saw her just before I let loose and held my tongue. There was an awkward silence but it passed. Mildred never heard anything. As far as my aborted outburst was concerned: the crew all thought I was angry because they were making so much noise while I was trying to read. No one had any idea I was about to defend Mildred's sex appeal. I had never told anyone how I felt about her. I had taken it for granted that everyone felt the same way I did about Mildred and her legs. After that I kept my feelings a secret. My first novel was an idealized fantasy of what might have happened if I told everybody how I felt and Mildred walked in and heard me. She could have wrapped me around her little finger and had me 'servicing' her in our spare time. That would give new meaning to the phrase 'Down-Time'. That temp assignment provided plenty of material for stories dealing with all manner of sex. That's why I say the Sex Monster devoured my Great White Whale. One sex story led to another while my Epic Novel simmered on the back burner and I never really got back to it. An audience existed for this type of 'Office FemDom' before I even knew what to call it. Readers are the ones that 'TAGGED' it for me. Hundreds of readers paid good money for it online right from the start but things really exploded with Amazon Kindle. If I had never read those particular How-To books that mentioned porn novels I would probably never have tried it. If I hadn't worked at that particular temp assignment I would probably not written any sort of FemDom. That particular office was female-dominated. Women were the bosses and overwhelming outnumbered men. And because the atmosphere was so relaxed sex topics were bandied about like we were at a bar or something. Usually from a woman's point of view reducing men to sex objects and holding them up for ridicule. That's why my stories came out with a FemDom theme. The way it played out I simply had to imagine things if normal sexual inhibitions disappeared and write out what would happen if the women were free to live their fantasies and men had to give them their way. The rest is history...
	Ellen's Big Day	by Joe Brewster Nov. 01, 2010	2976 words	Read a sample
	Ellen gives her office wardrobe a complete make-over only to find she doesn't have the guts to carry off this new, sexier, look. She feels silly stumbling around on her 'killer' heels in an outfit that makes her feel fat, and naked. She imagines everyone is laughing at her. In the end she takes it out on Joe but not before Joe sets her straight on a few issues. Oral Sex, FemDom Overtones,
	Author bio: Ever since Moby Dick became The Great American Novel writers have dreamed of putting together their own version of epic greatness: I had the same ambition and my quest failed as badly as Ahab's quest for the great white whale. The Sex Monster gobbled it up. I prepared for my quest by devouring every book I could find on how to write novels. These books were written by successful novelists. Several of the authors revealed a curious fact: they had sharpened their writing skills churning out sex novels-- so-called porn--before they ever placed a manuscript with a 'legit' publisher. This struck me as odd but I paid it no mind. I took it merely as trivia. I plowed ahead with my plan to apply all my attention to my Great American Novel; any 'practice novels', porn or otherwise, seemed like a waste of resources and precious writer 'mojo'. I gathered all my notes and character outlines and got down to business. I put fresh lines on paper but I soon lost the thread and the story slipped away. So I took it apart and began sorting it out and tightening it up. But after my third or fourth re-write I had 100 stale pages that sagged under the weight of empty prose before the whole thing gave way and came apart at the seams. I needed to practice writing stories that had 'a beginning', 'a middle', and 'an end', to get a feel for how a story should develop. The way I went at it I was going nowhere not-so-fast. That's when my mind drifted to thoughts of smut: I decided to write my own 'porn' novel. When I first read about the authors 'honing their chops' writing porn I just thought it was odd. But it actually made sense. Sex had built-in conflict-- the basis for every good story-- and, where sex is concerned, who doesn't let their emotions overrule common sense? That is the basis for all irony (I loved irony) so I gave it a try. The great thing about that was I no longer felt any pressure to write perfect prose. It was strictly practice and so words flowed and great characters popped up out of nowhere. I had nothing to lose but my novel-writing virginity. I went for it. My novel experiment was set in a telemarketing office and like most first novels it was based on true events. So I wrote what I knew. According to the experts that is practically Novel Writing 101. I worked answering phones for an inbound telemarketing company. Afternoons were slow. Hours passed with no calls coming in. Reps were free to use the down-time as we pleased. Most reps sat and gossiped. I read books. To my way of thinking I got paid to read books. I learned things. I had my own on-the-job scholarship. That's actually where I read most of my how-to-write-a-novel books. One night my gossiping coworkers played a 'Name Game' where they took turns naming a person and the rest of them had to say if they found the nominee sex-worthy. I kept my nose in my book but I couldn't help overhearing. They started off with movie stars and celebrities and famous politicians and such. No one agreed on anything. One person's fantasy was another person's nightmare. Then talk turned to our absent coworkers and whether or not they were bedroom material. Again, no one agreed -- until Mildred's name came up. Mildred was our section leader. She sat at the head of the room and, in contrast to the rest of us, always seemed busy doing some work-related chore. She was taking a rare smoking break when the crew started talking about her. Mildred had the most perfect set of legs I have ever seen on a living person. They were dazzling. They were sexy. They were mind-boggling actually. I would look at them and try to figure out what it was that made them so perfect. I couldn't. A thousand other women must have had legs that were almost identical to hers-- but not quite. That slight difference made all the difference in the world. Mildred's legs blew my mind. There were times when I'd thank God for the simple pleasure of having Mildred's legs to look at on long boring nights. The first time I saw Mildred I walked up to her from behind; checking out her short skirt and her legs and heels in the process. Her auburn hair swung about her shoulders as she turned to face me. I'd have guessed her age to be anywhere from 18 to 29--- until she faced me. She was every bit of 60. I nearly gasped with surprise. Mildred's age startled me but it did nothing to dampen my admiration--and lust--for her legs. They were still absolutely flawless; smooth and shapely; without a trace of 'spider' veins that woman much younger than her are often prone to. She was a genetic marvel. I know I'm going on and on about her legs so I'll stop--but one last thing: her whole body looked hot; at least from what I could see of it with her clothes on. She stood 5' 6" barefoot. Weighed 105lbs. Measured about 34-24-34. Slim and well proportioned. So imagine my astonishment when her name was offered up for sexual review and the response was immediate, unanimous, and utterly negative. The gossip crew freaked-out at the thought of any sexual contact with Mildred. They wouldn't touch that lady if their life depended on it. Their attitude ticked me off! I slammed my book down and was all set to tear into them. I was just about to shout that they were all crazy--- out of their freaking minds--- and announce that I'd go down on that woman in a heartbeat if I had the chance--when Mildred walked in. Luckily, I saw her just before I let loose and held my tongue. There was an awkward silence but it passed. Mildred never heard anything. As far as my aborted outburst was concerned: the crew all thought I was angry because they were making so much noise while I was trying to read. No one had any idea I was about to defend Mildred's sex appeal. I had never told anyone how I felt about her. I had taken it for granted that everyone felt the same way I did about Mildred and her legs. After that I kept my feelings a secret. My first novel was an idealized fantasy of what might have happened if I told everybody how I felt and Mildred walked in and heard me. She could have wrapped me around her little finger and had me 'servicing' her in our spare time. That would give new meaning to the phrase 'Down-Time'. That temp assignment provided plenty of material for stories dealing with all manner of sex. That's why I say the Sex Monster devoured my Great White Whale. One sex story led to another while my Epic Novel simmered on the back burner and I never really got back to it. An audience existed for this type of 'Office FemDom' before I even knew what to call it. Readers are the ones that 'TAGGED' it for me. Hundreds of readers paid good money for it online right from the start but things really exploded with Amazon Kindle. If I had never read those particular How-To books that mentioned porn novels I would probably never have tried it. If I hadn't worked at that particular temp assignment I would probably not written any sort of FemDom. That particular office was female-dominated. Women were the bosses and overwhelming outnumbered men. And because the atmosphere was so relaxed sex topics were bandied about like we were at a bar or something. Usually from a woman's point of view reducing men to sex objects and holding them up for ridicule. That's why my stories came out with a FemDom theme. The way it played out I simply had to imagine things if normal sexual inhibitions disappeared and write out what would happen if the women were free to live their fantasies and men had to give them their way. The rest is history...
	My Favorite Bitch : College FemDom Short Fiction	by Joe Brewster July 15, 2011	2975 words	Read a sample
	Meg & Joe are study partners. Joe adores Meg but is too wimpy to make a move on her. He doesn't want to take advantage of their friendship. Meg treats Joe like a dog. Joe doesn't seem to mind. One day Meg pushes Joe too far & he snaps. Joe makes sure Meg gets what's coming to her.
	Author bio: Ever since Moby Dick became The Great American Novel writers have dreamed of putting together their own version of epic greatness: I had the same ambition and my quest failed as badly as Ahab's quest for the great white whale. The Sex Monster gobbled it up. I prepared for my quest by devouring every book I could find on how to write novels. These books were written by successful novelists. Several of the authors revealed a curious fact: they had sharpened their writing skills churning out sex novels-- so-called porn--before they ever placed a manuscript with a 'legit' publisher. This struck me as odd but I paid it no mind. I took it merely as trivia. I plowed ahead with my plan to apply all my attention to my Great American Novel; any 'practice novels', porn or otherwise, seemed like a waste of resources and precious writer 'mojo'. I gathered all my notes and character outlines and got down to business. I put fresh lines on paper but I soon lost the thread and the story slipped away. So I took it apart and began sorting it out and tightening it up. But after my third or fourth re-write I had 100 stale pages that sagged under the weight of empty prose before the whole thing gave way and came apart at the seams. I needed to practice writing stories that had 'a beginning', 'a middle', and 'an end', to get a feel for how a story should develop. The way I went at it I was going nowhere not-so-fast. That's when my mind drifted to thoughts of smut: I decided to write my own 'porn' novel. When I first read about the authors 'honing their chops' writing porn I just thought it was odd. But it actually made sense. Sex had built-in conflict-- the basis for every good story-- and, where sex is concerned, who doesn't let their emotions overrule common sense? That is the basis for all irony (I loved irony) so I gave it a try. The great thing about that was I no longer felt any pressure to write perfect prose. It was strictly practice and so words flowed and great characters popped up out of nowhere. I had nothing to lose but my novel-writing virginity. I went for it. My novel experiment was set in a telemarketing office and like most first novels it was based on true events. So I wrote what I knew. According to the experts that is practically Novel Writing 101. I worked answering phones for an inbound telemarketing company. Afternoons were slow. Hours passed with no calls coming in. Reps were free to use the down-time as we pleased. Most reps sat and gossiped. I read books. To my way of thinking I got paid to read books. I learned things. I had my own on-the-job scholarship. That's actually where I read most of my how-to-write-a-novel books. One night my gossiping coworkers played a 'Name Game' where they took turns naming a person and the rest of them had to say if they found the nominee sex-worthy. I kept my nose in my book but I couldn't help overhearing. They started off with movie stars and celebrities and famous politicians and such. No one agreed on anything. One person's fantasy was another person's nightmare. Then talk turned to our absent coworkers and whether or not they were bedroom material. Again, no one agreed -- until Mildred's name came up. Mildred was our section leader. She sat at the head of the room and, in contrast to the rest of us, always seemed busy doing some work-related chore. She was taking a rare smoking break when the crew started talking about her. Mildred had the most perfect set of legs I have ever seen on a living person. They were dazzling. They were sexy. They were mind-boggling actually. I would look at them and try to figure out what it was that made them so perfect. I couldn't. A thousand other women must have had legs that were almost identical to hers-- but not quite. That slight difference made all the difference in the world. Mildred's legs blew my mind. There were times when I'd thank God for the simple pleasure of having Mildred's legs to look at on long boring nights. The first time I saw Mildred I walked up to her from behind; checking out her short skirt and her legs and heels in the process. Her auburn hair swung about her shoulders as she turned to face me. I'd have guessed her age to be anywhere from 18 to 29--- until she faced me. She was every bit of 60. I nearly gasped with surprise. Mildred's age startled me but it did nothing to dampen my admiration--and lust--for her legs. They were still absolutely flawless; smooth and shapely; without a trace of 'spider' veins that woman much younger than her are often prone to. She was a genetic marvel. I know I'm going on and on about her legs so I'll stop--but one last thing: her whole body looked hot; at least from what I could see of it with her clothes on. She stood 5' 6" barefoot. Weighed 105lbs. Measured about 34-24-34. Slim and well proportioned. So imagine my astonishment when her name was offered up for sexual review and the response was immediate, unanimous, and utterly negative. The gossip crew freaked-out at the thought of any sexual contact with Mildred. They wouldn't touch that lady if their life depended on it. Their attitude ticked me off! I slammed my book down and was all set to tear into them. I was just about to shout that they were all crazy--- out of their freaking minds--- and announce that I'd go down on that woman in a heartbeat if I had the chance--when Mildred walked in. Luckily, I saw her just before I let loose and held my tongue. There was an awkward silence but it passed. Mildred never heard anything. As far as my aborted outburst was concerned: the crew all thought I was angry because they were making so much noise while I was trying to read. No one had any idea I was about to defend Mildred's sex appeal. I had never told anyone how I felt about her. I had taken it for granted that everyone felt the same way I did about Mildred and her legs. After that I kept my feelings a secret. My first novel was an idealized fantasy of what might have happened if I told everybody how I felt and Mildred walked in and heard me. She could have wrapped me around her little finger and had me 'servicing' her in our spare time. That would give new meaning to the phrase 'Down-Time'. That temp assignment provided plenty of material for stories dealing with all manner of sex. That's why I say the Sex Monster devoured my Great White Whale. One sex story led to another while my Epic Novel simmered on the back burner and I never really got back to it. An audience existed for this type of 'Office FemDom' before I even knew what to call it. Readers are the ones that 'TAGGED' it for me. Hundreds of readers paid good money for it online right from the start but things really exploded with Amazon Kindle. If I had never read those particular How-To books that mentioned porn novels I would probably never have tried it. If I hadn't worked at that particular temp assignment I would probably not written any sort of FemDom. That particular office was female-dominated. Women were the bosses and overwhelming outnumbered men. And because the atmosphere was so relaxed sex topics were bandied about like we were at a bar or something. Usually from a woman's point of view reducing men to sex objects and holding them up for ridicule. That's why my stories came out with a FemDom theme. The way it played out I simply had to imagine things if normal sexual inhibitions disappeared and write out what would happen if the women were free to live their fantasies and men had to give them their way. The rest is history...
	Slow Hand	by Lacey Diamond March 03, 2011	2967 words	Read a sample
	This is a short erotic romance story.
	Author bio: Lacey's a grandmother.But that doesn't mean she's a dried up old prune.Her husband of thirty-five years can attest to that.Lacey believes reading a steamy love story or writing one can give most any relationship a pleasurable boost.
	Frat Party Deflowering	by Belle Hart April 24, 2012	2862 words	Read a sample
	Gorgeous college freshman Olivia goes to a frat party with one goal: to get laid. She's sidelined by a couple of crude frat boys who want to force her to have sex. A hot sophomore rescues her. Could he finally be the guy she wants to go all the way with? Length: Short Story, 2600 words.
	Author bio: Belle Hart is an erotica author who likes to write raunchy taboo stories. She also likes sci-fi/fantasy TV, is a terrible cook, would rather go barefoot than wear high heels, and loves a good summer rainstorm (while curled up with the right fella).
	STRIP (A Quickie)	by Stella Kingston Sep. 26, 2011	2860 words	Read a sample
	A young project manager gets laid off and is forced to audition as a stripper. She doesn't get the job, but she does get laid. This is a free title. Please come back to rate/review it if you like it.
	Author bio: Stella Kingston writes erotica featuring bad boys and naughty girls. Her latest title is Vacation Whore, a short story depicting the first date between a multi-millionaire and a girl he met online. All titles are suitable for adults only.
	The Quickie (Sexy and Short Erotica Story)	by Kitty Fine Dec. 20, 2011	2683 words	Read a sample
	This is a very short but sizzling sexy story. Nympho Nikki finds a way to be naughty during a boring class in her last year of high school. She scores with the high school quarterback for a hot, explicit quickie at school. Warning: For adults 18+ only! All characters are 18+ and no minors are depicted in this work. Contains: mf, oral sex, explicit sex, dirty talk, and satisfying orgasms.
	Author bio: Kitty Fine writes soft and hardcore erotica, getting inspiration from her own wild days and her forever naughty mind. Former Catholic school girl, stripper and nympho, she aims to share her bad girl adventures and hot imagination to please her readers.
	Lusting After Step Dad	by Belle Hart April 24, 2012	2653 words	Read a sample
	Leah has always thought her step dad was sexy, but she's never had an erotic dream about him before. Not until her mother teases her step dad about spanking her on her 18th birthday, which leads to a kinky dream of sex and corporal punishment. Length: Short Story, 2400 words.
	Author bio: Belle Hart is an erotica author who likes to write raunchy taboo stories. She also likes sci-fi/fantasy TV, is a terrible cook, would rather go barefoot than wear high heels, and loves a good summer rainstorm (while curled up with the right fella).
	Looking To Party -- College Daze: Volume Six	by T.J. Holland March 29, 2012	2589 words	Read a sample
	College Daze is the story of a young woman getting a taste of the college life one sexual encounter at a time. It's the end of the semester and our narrator is looking to party! And after a trip to Las Vegas, a bottle of tequila and some time in the hot tub getting herself warmed up, she's ready to go. Who will catch her fancy on this night? A man? A woman? Or maybe both? Adults only! 18+
	Author bio:
	My Dearest Isabella	by Antonio Angelo July 12, 2011	2587 words	Read a sample
	Isabella finds more than words when she explores a letter containing a spiritual invitation from her far away lover. This erotic tale of love in pen lets you glance into the bedroom of lovers thousands of miles apart.
	Author bio: More thought should go into this, than I'm giving it. But I am just a guy that loves women is that so wrong? I stumbled into the erotica genre, playing around with my friends online. My stories are personal even when they are wrapped in deep fantasy. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my stories and bio. I love to hear from my readers and will respond to any questions or suggestions for the books. I edit them myself and am not exactly known for my grammar skills so if you see something that should be corrected please let me know. antonioangelo21@yahoo.com
	Where Do We Go From Here?	by Jessica Morse Jan. 19, 2011	2543 words	Read a sample
	Danielle's relationship with her boyfriend John is in shambles. She doesn't want to lose him, but doesn't know how to fix things. Sometimes bodies can express things we don't know how to get across with words. (Flash fiction - 1900 words)
	Author bio: Jessica Morse has been writing since she was a child. Her first work was a one act play about the dangers of letting dogs off their leashes, written when she was seven. Since then she’s worked as a waitress, fundraiser, and freelance writer. Jessica wrote her first piece of erotic romance in 2008, and never looked back. Jessica has lived in Philadelphia, PA for her entire life, but travels as often as she can (her current tally is three continents and twelve countries). When she’s not writing or reading one of the eight hundred books in her home, she spends time with her husband and their fifteen pound cat.
	A Woman's Lust 1: The Harbour	by CS Morgan May 29, 2011	2476 words	Read a sample
	A woman goes for an evening stroll along a sea wall in a historic harbour town. With people passing by, she has a sexual encounter that is so sensual, so arousing, she can't control herself. This 2,300 word story is the first of a series of erotic tales based on my experiences and fantasies aimed at women, but which can still be enjoyed by men and women alike.
	Author bio: 'A Woman's Lust' is a series of erotic tales following the fictional British couple Rachel and John. These stories have ranked in the top 50 in both the Amazon and the iTunes Erotica categories. Eroticism is in the mind, and as you get to know Rachel, I hope I can get inside yours, arousing and exciting you. I hope you enjoy reading these stories as much as I did writing them! Love CS Morgan x
	Catering	by Jessica Freely April 20, 2010	2475 words	Read a sample
	Slackers Stan and Gus really need this job, but will Stan's big mouth get them into trouble, or will it open up a whole new opportunity for career advancement?
	Author bio: I've been writing and publishing genre fiction under a variety of names for over fifteen years, but it wasn’t until I stumbled upon a stash of Jay and Silent Bob fanfiction that I found my true calling: male/male romance. I haven’t looked back since.
	Anonymous Fuck - The Hotel 1	by R Hawthorne April 05, 2012	2447 words	Read a sample
	Julia is unsatisfied in her marriage, unhappy and unfulfilled until her friend introduces her to a website, Anonymous Fuck, that allows strangers to meet for sex. Julia's first erotic encounter is with a man who thrills her in ways she didn't think possible and introduces her to things she never thought she'd try...let alone like. This is an erotic short story for adults only. 2,300 words.
	Author bio: Got bored reading other people's erotica so I thought I'd write my own. I have also published a 4.5/5 star rated crime novel on Amazon.
	Mandy's Surprise - A Prelude	by Emelia Hayes April 25, 2012	2410 words	Read a sample
	A short erotic prelude to Mandy's Surprise.
	Author bio: I'm an Aussie and I love my country. I read and write, and dream big.
	Tessa and Jade	by Belle Hart April 24, 2012	2366 words	Read a sample
	Tessa and Jade are best friends, both 18, bisexual, and secretly lovers. After their senior prom, they have sex while telling each other their favorite fantasies of banging the men in their lives. Length: Short Story, 2100 words.
	Author bio: Belle Hart is an erotica author who likes to write raunchy taboo stories. She also likes sci-fi/fantasy TV, is a terrible cook, would rather go barefoot than wear high heels, and loves a good summer rainstorm (while curled up with the right fella).
	Her Massage	by Rushmore Judd April 01, 2011	2354 words	Read a sample
	As a professional masseuse for twelve years he had never before crossed the line but her beauty and youthful encouragement was too much to resist. All of his good intentions are eroded as he responds to each of her subtle hints. He is drawn in deeper and deeper into a a whirlpool of emotion overriding any logic his profession required.
	Author bio: Rushmore Judd began writing erotic stories in the early 1990's. When the internet arrived, he finally found an outlet for his stories and what was a hobby became an avocation. Publishing on a few websites he developed a loyal following that encouraged him. His writing is straight forward in its descriptions without a heavy reliance on euphemisms. Frequently someone in the story is pushing a boundary, exploring new experiences or crossing a forbidden line. It is the struggle between conscience and lust that characterizes many of his stories. Others have accused him of being a woman who only pretends to be a man because of his intimate understanding of the way a woman reacts and thinks. He prefers to think of himself as a lesbian trapped in a man’s body. Some have suggested that his readings become required reading for young men and teens. His stories project a positive view of sex and seduction. In 2010 he started his own website (www.rushmorejudd.com) and in April of 2011 he published his first story on Smashwords.com. Rushmore has had a successful career as a business consultant and in that capacity he has traveled the world, living in Europe for a time. Currently he lives in the beautiful Berkshire region of New England with his wife. If you are dissatisfied with any story you purchased from me, please contact me at rushmore.judd at gmail.com. Comments and ratings are very much appreciated.
	Boss Bangs the Secretary	by Belle Hart April 24, 2012	2325 words	Read a sample
	Chad's beautiful red-haired secretary Carol has had her eye on him for a while. One night when they are both working late she decides to finally seduce him. Chad turns out to be a willing target, aggressively having his way with her once he knows she's interested. Just the way she likes it. Length: Short Story, 2100 words.
	Author bio: Belle Hart is an erotica author who likes to write raunchy taboo stories. She also likes sci-fi/fantasy TV, is a terrible cook, would rather go barefoot than wear high heels, and loves a good summer rainstorm (while curled up with the right fella).
	King Shit and the Fat Ass	by Joe Brewster March 20, 2011	2315 words	Read a sample
	A college bound football star and an overweight Goth Girl are part of a summer program to help inner city kids. One is a handsome Hunk used to getting things handed to him. The other is an ugly wench who won't take anything from anybody. The guy is there only to fulfill his community service sentence that kept him out of jail. The girl is dedicated to helping kids through art which is her passion.
	Author bio: Ever since Moby Dick became The Great American Novel writers have dreamed of putting together their own version of epic greatness: I had the same ambition and my quest failed as badly as Ahab's quest for the great white whale. The Sex Monster gobbled it up. I prepared for my quest by devouring every book I could find on how to write novels. These books were written by successful novelists. Several of the authors revealed a curious fact: they had sharpened their writing skills churning out sex novels-- so-called porn--before they ever placed a manuscript with a 'legit' publisher. This struck me as odd but I paid it no mind. I took it merely as trivia. I plowed ahead with my plan to apply all my attention to my Great American Novel; any 'practice novels', porn or otherwise, seemed like a waste of resources and precious writer 'mojo'. I gathered all my notes and character outlines and got down to business. I put fresh lines on paper but I soon lost the thread and the story slipped away. So I took it apart and began sorting it out and tightening it up. But after my third or fourth re-write I had 100 stale pages that sagged under the weight of empty prose before the whole thing gave way and came apart at the seams. I needed to practice writing stories that had 'a beginning', 'a middle', and 'an end', to get a feel for how a story should develop. The way I went at it I was going nowhere not-so-fast. That's when my mind drifted to thoughts of smut: I decided to write my own 'porn' novel. When I first read about the authors 'honing their chops' writing porn I just thought it was odd. But it actually made sense. Sex had built-in conflict-- the basis for every good story-- and, where sex is concerned, who doesn't let their emotions overrule common sense? That is the basis for all irony (I loved irony) so I gave it a try. The great thing about that was I no longer felt any pressure to write perfect prose. It was strictly practice and so words flowed and great characters popped up out of nowhere. I had nothing to lose but my novel-writing virginity. I went for it. My novel experiment was set in a telemarketing office and like most first novels it was based on true events. So I wrote what I knew. According to the experts that is practically Novel Writing 101. I worked answering phones for an inbound telemarketing company. Afternoons were slow. Hours passed with no calls coming in. Reps were free to use the down-time as we pleased. Most reps sat and gossiped. I read books. To my way of thinking I got paid to read books. I learned things. I had my own on-the-job scholarship. That's actually where I read most of my how-to-write-a-novel books. One night my gossiping coworkers played a 'Name Game' where they took turns naming a person and the rest of them had to say if they found the nominee sex-worthy. I kept my nose in my book but I couldn't help overhearing. They started off with movie stars and celebrities and famous politicians and such. No one agreed on anything. One person's fantasy was another person's nightmare. Then talk turned to our absent coworkers and whether or not they were bedroom material. Again, no one agreed -- until Mildred's name came up. Mildred was our section leader. She sat at the head of the room and, in contrast to the rest of us, always seemed busy doing some work-related chore. She was taking a rare smoking break when the crew started talking about her. Mildred had the most perfect set of legs I have ever seen on a living person. They were dazzling. They were sexy. They were mind-boggling actually. I would look at them and try to figure out what it was that made them so perfect. I couldn't. A thousand other women must have had legs that were almost identical to hers-- but not quite. That slight difference made all the difference in the world. Mildred's legs blew my mind. There were times when I'd thank God for the simple pleasure of having Mildred's legs to look at on long boring nights. The first time I saw Mildred I walked up to her from behind; checking out her short skirt and her legs and heels in the process. Her auburn hair swung about her shoulders as she turned to face me. I'd have guessed her age to be anywhere from 18 to 29--- until she faced me. She was every bit of 60. I nearly gasped with surprise. Mildred's age startled me but it did nothing to dampen my admiration--and lust--for her legs. They were still absolutely flawless; smooth and shapely; without a trace of 'spider' veins that woman much younger than her are often prone to. She was a genetic marvel. I know I'm going on and on about her legs so I'll stop--but one last thing: her whole body looked hot; at least from what I could see of it with her clothes on. She stood 5' 6" barefoot. Weighed 105lbs. Measured about 34-24-34. Slim and well proportioned. So imagine my astonishment when her name was offered up for sexual review and the response was immediate, unanimous, and utterly negative. The gossip crew freaked-out at the thought of any sexual contact with Mildred. They wouldn't touch that lady if their life depended on it. Their attitude ticked me off! I slammed my book down and was all set to tear into them. I was just about to shout that they were all crazy--- out of their freaking minds--- and announce that I'd go down on that woman in a heartbeat if I had the chance--when Mildred walked in. Luckily, I saw her just before I let loose and held my tongue. There was an awkward silence but it passed. Mildred never heard anything. As far as my aborted outburst was concerned: the crew all thought I was angry because they were making so much noise while I was trying to read. No one had any idea I was about to defend Mildred's sex appeal. I had never told anyone how I felt about her. I had taken it for granted that everyone felt the same way I did about Mildred and her legs. After that I kept my feelings a secret. My first novel was an idealized fantasy of what might have happened if I told everybody how I felt and Mildred walked in and heard me. She could have wrapped me around her little finger and had me 'servicing' her in our spare time. That would give new meaning to the phrase 'Down-Time'. That temp assignment provided plenty of material for stories dealing with all manner of sex. That's why I say the Sex Monster devoured my Great White Whale. One sex story led to another while my Epic Novel simmered on the back burner and I never really got back to it. An audience existed for this type of 'Office FemDom' before I even knew what to call it. Readers are the ones that 'TAGGED' it for me. Hundreds of readers paid good money for it online right from the start but things really exploded with Amazon Kindle. If I had never read those particular How-To books that mentioned porn novels I would probably never have tried it. If I hadn't worked at that particular temp assignment I would probably not written any sort of FemDom. That particular office was female-dominated. Women were the bosses and overwhelming outnumbered men. And because the atmosphere was so relaxed sex topics were bandied about like we were at a bar or something. Usually from a woman's point of view reducing men to sex objects and holding them up for ridicule. That's why my stories came out with a FemDom theme. The way it played out I simply had to imagine things if normal sexual inhibitions disappeared and write out what would happen if the women were free to live their fantasies and men had to give them their way. The rest is history...
	Steamy Shoppers	by Michael Constantine Jan. 09, 2011	2185 words	Read a sample
	A man is overcome with a fantasy he has of a woman he sees in a grocery store.
	Author bio:
	Love is Blind	by Kathleen Longwood April 26, 2012	2012 words	Read a sample
	Miranda meets a blind student whose name - Elwin, makes her smile. She first talks to him when she sees him with his nose an inch away from a thick book of ee cummings poems. On their walks in the gardens she gives him the gift of self-confidence, he gives her his sensuality of touch and insights to her deepest sexual self.
	Author bio: Kathleen Longwood writes sensual erotica for the intelligent woman. You are never left with a feeling of distaste, but with a lingering passion for life. Mysterious, physical, oddly romantic forces are at play in the life and body and psyche of our heroine. Stories are set in libraries, cathedrals, sometimes Europe or the tropics with sensual descriptions of people, places and uhmm, passionate secret sexual encounters. Come on an exotic, erotic excursion, opening a heretofore secret world of possibilities.
	The Massage	by Suze Smith March 19, 2011	2010 words	Sample 30%
	A short erotic story about a girl and a really great massage.
	Author bio: 30 year old woman. Confused about life but sure about smut.
	Alexandra The Great An Office FemDom Short	by JD Kindle Jan. 03, 2012	1977 words	Read a sample
	Alexandra works in an office but her passion is bodybuilding. Her massive size commands respect but frightens her coworkers--except for one nerd who adores her. The nerd asks her on a date & she accepts & turns him into her personal sex slave for the night. The next day she shuns him at work. The nerd seeks the advice of Sandy, his only friend at work, & she takes up where Alexandra left off.
	Author bio: J D Kindle writes Femdom erotica with a hard sexual edge that cuts into truly raunchy territory at times.
	Victoria's Secret Slut - An Office FemDom Story	by Joe Brewster April 07, 2011	1647 words	Read a sample
	Victoria & Ian are an 'Office Couple', coworkers of the opposite sex that behave like an old married couple. They each have spouses of their own to whom they are faithful. Ian is much more emotionally invested than Victoria & she can't help taking advantage of him daily in a nonsexual way. While traveling together on business Victoria has her husband's blessing to use Ian as a sexual submissive.
	Author bio: Ever since Moby Dick became The Great American Novel writers have dreamed of putting together their own version of epic greatness: I had the same ambition and my quest failed as badly as Ahab's quest for the great white whale. The Sex Monster gobbled it up. I prepared for my quest by devouring every book I could find on how to write novels. These books were written by successful novelists. Several of the authors revealed a curious fact: they had sharpened their writing skills churning out sex novels-- so-called porn--before they ever placed a manuscript with a 'legit' publisher. This struck me as odd but I paid it no mind. I took it merely as trivia. I plowed ahead with my plan to apply all my attention to my Great American Novel; any 'practice novels', porn or otherwise, seemed like a waste of resources and precious writer 'mojo'. I gathered all my notes and character outlines and got down to business. I put fresh lines on paper but I soon lost the thread and the story slipped away. So I took it apart and began sorting it out and tightening it up. But after my third or fourth re-write I had 100 stale pages that sagged under the weight of empty prose before the whole thing gave way and came apart at the seams. I needed to practice writing stories that had 'a beginning', 'a middle', and 'an end', to get a feel for how a story should develop. The way I went at it I was going nowhere not-so-fast. That's when my mind drifted to thoughts of smut: I decided to write my own 'porn' novel. When I first read about the authors 'honing their chops' writing porn I just thought it was odd. But it actually made sense. Sex had built-in conflict-- the basis for every good story-- and, where sex is concerned, who doesn't let their emotions overrule common sense? That is the basis for all irony (I loved irony) so I gave it a try. The great thing about that was I no longer felt any pressure to write perfect prose. It was strictly practice and so words flowed and great characters popped up out of nowhere. I had nothing to lose but my novel-writing virginity. I went for it. My novel experiment was set in a telemarketing office and like most first novels it was based on true events. So I wrote what I knew. According to the experts that is practically Novel Writing 101. I worked answering phones for an inbound telemarketing company. Afternoons were slow. Hours passed with no calls coming in. Reps were free to use the down-time as we pleased. Most reps sat and gossiped. I read books. To my way of thinking I got paid to read books. I learned things. I had my own on-the-job scholarship. That's actually where I read most of my how-to-write-a-novel books. One night my gossiping coworkers played a 'Name Game' where they took turns naming a person and the rest of them had to say if they found the nominee sex-worthy. I kept my nose in my book but I couldn't help overhearing. They started off with movie stars and celebrities and famous politicians and such. No one agreed on anything. One person's fantasy was another person's nightmare. Then talk turned to our absent coworkers and whether or not they were bedroom material. Again, no one agreed -- until Mildred's name came up. Mildred was our section leader. She sat at the head of the room and, in contrast to the rest of us, always seemed busy doing some work-related chore. She was taking a rare smoking break when the crew started talking about her. Mildred had the most perfect set of legs I have ever seen on a living person. They were dazzling. They were sexy. They were mind-boggling actually. I would look at them and try to figure out what it was that made them so perfect. I couldn't. A thousand other women must have had legs that were almost identical to hers-- but not quite. That slight difference made all the difference in the world. Mildred's legs blew my mind. There were times when I'd thank God for the simple pleasure of having Mildred's legs to look at on long boring nights. The first time I saw Mildred I walked up to her from behind; checking out her short skirt and her legs and heels in the process. Her auburn hair swung about her shoulders as she turned to face me. I'd have guessed her age to be anywhere from 18 to 29--- until she faced me. She was every bit of 60. I nearly gasped with surprise. Mildred's age startled me but it did nothing to dampen my admiration--and lust--for her legs. They were still absolutely flawless; smooth and shapely; without a trace of 'spider' veins that woman much younger than her are often prone to. She was a genetic marvel. I know I'm going on and on about her legs so I'll stop--but one last thing: her whole body looked hot; at least from what I could see of it with her clothes on. She stood 5' 6" barefoot. Weighed 105lbs. Measured about 34-24-34. Slim and well proportioned. So imagine my astonishment when her name was offered up for sexual review and the response was immediate, unanimous, and utterly negative. The gossip crew freaked-out at the thought of any sexual contact with Mildred. They wouldn't touch that lady if their life depended on it. Their attitude ticked me off! I slammed my book down and was all set to tear into them. I was just about to shout that they were all crazy--- out of their freaking minds--- and announce that I'd go down on that woman in a heartbeat if I had the chance--when Mildred walked in. Luckily, I saw her just before I let loose and held my tongue. There was an awkward silence but it passed. Mildred never heard anything. As far as my aborted outburst was concerned: the crew all thought I was angry because they were making so much noise while I was trying to read. No one had any idea I was about to defend Mildred's sex appeal. I had never told anyone how I felt about her. I had taken it for granted that everyone felt the same way I did about Mildred and her legs. After that I kept my feelings a secret. My first novel was an idealized fantasy of what might have happened if I told everybody how I felt and Mildred walked in and heard me. She could have wrapped me around her little finger and had me 'servicing' her in our spare time. That would give new meaning to the phrase 'Down-Time'. That temp assignment provided plenty of material for stories dealing with all manner of sex. That's why I say the Sex Monster devoured my Great White Whale. One sex story led to another while my Epic Novel simmered on the back burner and I never really got back to it. An audience existed for this type of 'Office FemDom' before I even knew what to call it. Readers are the ones that 'TAGGED' it for me. Hundreds of readers paid good money for it online right from the start but things really exploded with Amazon Kindle. If I had never read those particular How-To books that mentioned porn novels I would probably never have tried it. If I hadn't worked at that particular temp assignment I would probably not written any sort of FemDom. That particular office was female-dominated. Women were the bosses and overwhelming outnumbered men. And because the atmosphere was so relaxed sex topics were bandied about like we were at a bar or something. Usually from a woman's point of view reducing men to sex objects and holding them up for ridicule. That's why my stories came out with a FemDom theme. The way it played out I simply had to imagine things if normal sexual inhibitions disappeared and write out what would happen if the women were free to live their fantasies and men had to give them their way. The rest is history...
	Delicious	by Nicky Faulkes May 11, 2012	1551 words	Read a sample
	Some girls love to share. Anna and Mandy share a snack with me. They're delicious girls. This contains material not suitable for minors.
	Author bio: The radio dial casts an exotic, otherworldly glow over the room as the Country Music Hour comes to an end. It's late and the seductive sound of rock and roll sneaks in the small town through his bedroom. The music and the warm, humid air hold a promise of intimacy and sensuality. Nick lies in bed and breathes it in, soaking up the atmosphere of the southern night. He mind is filled with dreams of leaving this small town and these small minds behind. He imagines himself on stage with a guitar in hand, singing and playing for the girls who've come to dance. His head is filled with the tales of wild women and dashing heroes his father and grandfather have told him. His ears are filled with a mix of the primal beat of rock and roll. The windows desperately seek a cool breeze in the summer night. What comes through them instead is the sound of a couple making love. The sighs and moans of lovers and the steady rhythms and plaintive wails of music mix in the darkness. As the intensity builds, a scream of pleasure and cry of release from ring out. All that's left are the fantasies of a young man and the pulsing beat of the music to fill his dreams as his eyes close and sleep overtakes him. *** Years later, the stories he tells come from a life of hedonistic pursuits and the driving beat of the music he's played. Memories and fantasies blend on the page before him. Now, the stories in his head are his own. He writes about women he's known and loved in his series, "My Girls". Stories like the award-winning "The Time of My Life" and others beg to be shared. Pictures of old friends and awards hang on the walls, the glass in the frames reflects the glow of the computer screen. Guitars stand sentry, ready to accompany him as the morning sun invades his home. Another night has passed and another day is coming. It's time to get some sleep but his memories, fantasies and music still ring in his ears as he lies back to drift away.
	Cougar Loves Doctor Cock	by Ruby Matthews Jan. 11, 2012	1525 words	Read a sample
	Sasha has an appointment with a hunky doctor. And when she sees him, Sasha knows he's just the antidote to her lackluster sex life. Mature Content. For Adults Only. Ruby Matthews is the writer of "Sexy Studs," Super Sexy Studs," "Cougar Loves Soldier Cock," "Cougar Loves Lifeguard Cock," "Red Hot Fireman Cock," "Pool Boy Pussy Pounding," and "Banging The Boss."
	Author bio:
	Tom Ford Stole My Training Wheels	by A.H. Scott Nov. 13, 2011	1369 words	Read a sample
	Fashion is a statement and reflection of one's independence from the restraints of what society deems worthy of acceptance. A.H. Scott takes "Tom Ford Stole My Training Wheels" out of the box of boredom.
	Author bio: A.H. Scott resides in the Northeastern United States. She's a new voice and vision of fiction and poetry. I have been writing short stories and poetry ever since childhood. But, now I'm dipping my toe into the pond of publishing. As an author, I enjoy letting my characters and plots that I've created get inside of the reader's heads. I make a promise to anyone that rolls the dice and catches a glimpse of my work that you will never be bored. Your eyes, mind and soul shall be thrilled. This is my bond to you, the reader. No simplicity ever from A.H. Scott. Always complexity is my main intent on anyone who reads my work. “I want the reader to be affected in two ways – above the neck & below the belt”. – A.H. Scott ----------- "I don't write for children. I write for adults". - A.H. Scott ------ "I believe art should be as enigmatic as the artist who creates it." A. H. Scott ------ "Silence is acceptance. Acceptance is conquest. Conquest is a rainbow obscured by a black cloud of contempt". - A.H. Scott ------------- "MY WORDS ARE MY CALLING CARD". - A.H. Scott 8/2/11
	Tom Ford Stole My Training Wheels	by A.H. Scott Nov. 13, 2011	1369 words	Sample 52%
	Fashion is a statement and reflection of one's independence from the restraints of what society deems worthy of acceptance. A.H. Scott takes "Tom Ford Stole My Training Wheels" out of the box of boredom.
	Author bio: A.H. Scott resides in the Northeastern United States. She's a new voice and vision of fiction and poetry. I have been writing short stories and poetry ever since childhood. But, now I'm dipping my toe into the pond of publishing. As an author, I enjoy letting my characters and plots that I've created get inside of the reader's heads. I make a promise to anyone that rolls the dice and catches a glimpse of my work that you will never be bored. Your eyes, mind and soul shall be thrilled. This is my bond to you, the reader. No simplicity ever from A.H. Scott. Always complexity is my main intent on anyone who reads my work. “I want the reader to be affected in two ways – above the neck & below the belt”. – A.H. Scott ----------- "I don't write for children. I write for adults". - A.H. Scott ------ "I believe art should be as enigmatic as the artist who creates it." A. H. Scott ------ "Silence is acceptance. Acceptance is conquest. Conquest is a rainbow obscured by a black cloud of contempt". - A.H. Scott ------------- "MY WORDS ARE MY CALLING CARD". - A.H. Scott 8/2/11
	Rivka the Tailor	by Bianca Noire May 16, 2012	1226 words	Read a sample
	A visit to a dressmaker in an unfamiliar part of the city leads to a surprisingly erotic moment between a beautiful call-girl and the tailor who takes her measurements.
	Author bio: Blogger/author of Ivory Silk, Black Lace: Contemplations of a Contemporary Courtesan, lover of words, sensualist.
	The Every Woman's Fantasy Series Introduction	by Rick Barry Dec. 12, 2011	1045 words	Read a sample
	The book is a free introduction to the series and it's chronicles.
	Author bio: Rick Barry is a self-taught writer. Living in the southern United States, he has been writing for just under five years.
	Small Packages	by Elise Logan June 30, 2011	785 words	Read a sample
	A snippet of sexy. In an office bathroom, one woman takes a break from the day to recharge her batteries.
	Author bio: Elise Logan writes completely hot stories that cross genres and boundaries. Born in Texas, she currently lives in Virginia with her husband, daughter, and four cats. She has a massive aversion to the cold and a virulent dislike of non-competition compliant chili.
	She: A Flash Fiction BDSM Tribute	by Joe Brewster Oct. 10, 2010	730 words	Read a sample
	Male sub tells of the joys of serving his Domme. A poetic homage from a male submissive to the woman he serves. F/m FemDom. Very short fiction.
	Author bio: Ever since Moby Dick became The Great American Novel writers have dreamed of putting together their own version of epic greatness: I had the same ambition and my quest failed as badly as Ahab's quest for the great white whale. The Sex Monster gobbled it up. I prepared for my quest by devouring every book I could find on how to write novels. These books were written by successful novelists. Several of the authors revealed a curious fact: they had sharpened their writing skills churning out sex novels-- so-called porn--before they ever placed a manuscript with a 'legit' publisher. This struck me as odd but I paid it no mind. I took it merely as trivia. I plowed ahead with my plan to apply all my attention to my Great American Novel; any 'practice novels', porn or otherwise, seemed like a waste of resources and precious writer 'mojo'. I gathered all my notes and character outlines and got down to business. I put fresh lines on paper but I soon lost the thread and the story slipped away. So I took it apart and began sorting it out and tightening it up. But after my third or fourth re-write I had 100 stale pages that sagged under the weight of empty prose before the whole thing gave way and came apart at the seams. I needed to practice writing stories that had 'a beginning', 'a middle', and 'an end', to get a feel for how a story should develop. The way I went at it I was going nowhere not-so-fast. That's when my mind drifted to thoughts of smut: I decided to write my own 'porn' novel. When I first read about the authors 'honing their chops' writing porn I just thought it was odd. But it actually made sense. Sex had built-in conflict-- the basis for every good story-- and, where sex is concerned, who doesn't let their emotions overrule common sense? That is the basis for all irony (I loved irony) so I gave it a try. The great thing about that was I no longer felt any pressure to write perfect prose. It was strictly practice and so words flowed and great characters popped up out of nowhere. I had nothing to lose but my novel-writing virginity. I went for it. My novel experiment was set in a telemarketing office and like most first novels it was based on true events. So I wrote what I knew. According to the experts that is practically Novel Writing 101. I worked answering phones for an inbound telemarketing company. Afternoons were slow. Hours passed with no calls coming in. Reps were free to use the down-time as we pleased. Most reps sat and gossiped. I read books. To my way of thinking I got paid to read books. I learned things. I had my own on-the-job scholarship. That's actually where I read most of my how-to-write-a-novel books. One night my gossiping coworkers played a 'Name Game' where they took turns naming a person and the rest of them had to say if they found the nominee sex-worthy. I kept my nose in my book but I couldn't help overhearing. They started off with movie stars and celebrities and famous politicians and such. No one agreed on anything. One person's fantasy was another person's nightmare. Then talk turned to our absent coworkers and whether or not they were bedroom material. Again, no one agreed -- until Mildred's name came up. Mildred was our section leader. She sat at the head of the room and, in contrast to the rest of us, always seemed busy doing some work-related chore. She was taking a rare smoking break when the crew started talking about her. Mildred had the most perfect set of legs I have ever seen on a living person. They were dazzling. They were sexy. They were mind-boggling actually. I would look at them and try to figure out what it was that made them so perfect. I couldn't. A thousand other women must have had legs that were almost identical to hers-- but not quite. That slight difference made all the difference in the world. Mildred's legs blew my mind. There were times when I'd thank God for the simple pleasure of having Mildred's legs to look at on long boring nights. The first time I saw Mildred I walked up to her from behind; checking out her short skirt and her legs and heels in the process. Her auburn hair swung about her shoulders as she turned to face me. I'd have guessed her age to be anywhere from 18 to 29--- until she faced me. She was every bit of 60. I nearly gasped with surprise. Mildred's age startled me but it did nothing to dampen my admiration--and lust--for her legs. They were still absolutely flawless; smooth and shapely; without a trace of 'spider' veins that woman much younger than her are often prone to. She was a genetic marvel. I know I'm going on and on about her legs so I'll stop--but one last thing: her whole body looked hot; at least from what I could see of it with her clothes on. She stood 5' 6" barefoot. Weighed 105lbs. Measured about 34-24-34. Slim and well proportioned. So imagine my astonishment when her name was offered up for sexual review and the response was immediate, unanimous, and utterly negative. The gossip crew freaked-out at the thought of any sexual contact with Mildred. They wouldn't touch that lady if their life depended on it. Their attitude ticked me off! I slammed my book down and was all set to tear into them. I was just about to shout that they were all crazy--- out of their freaking minds--- and announce that I'd go down on that woman in a heartbeat if I had the chance--when Mildred walked in. Luckily, I saw her just before I let loose and held my tongue. There was an awkward silence but it passed. Mildred never heard anything. As far as my aborted outburst was concerned: the crew all thought I was angry because they were making so much noise while I was trying to read. No one had any idea I was about to defend Mildred's sex appeal. I had never told anyone how I felt about her. I had taken it for granted that everyone felt the same way I did about Mildred and her legs. After that I kept my feelings a secret. My first novel was an idealized fantasy of what might have happened if I told everybody how I felt and Mildred walked in and heard me. She could have wrapped me around her little finger and had me 'servicing' her in our spare time. That would give new meaning to the phrase 'Down-Time'. That temp assignment provided plenty of material for stories dealing with all manner of sex. That's why I say the Sex Monster devoured my Great White Whale. One sex story led to another while my Epic Novel simmered on the back burner and I never really got back to it. An audience existed for this type of 'Office FemDom' before I even knew what to call it. Readers are the ones that 'TAGGED' it for me. Hundreds of readers paid good money for it online right from the start but things really exploded with Amazon Kindle. If I had never read those particular How-To books that mentioned porn novels I would probably never have tried it. If I hadn't worked at that particular temp assignment I would probably not written any sort of FemDom. That particular office was female-dominated. Women were the bosses and overwhelming outnumbered men. And because the atmosphere was so relaxed sex topics were bandied about like we were at a bar or something. Usually from a woman's point of view reducing men to sex objects and holding them up for ridicule. That's why my stories came out with a FemDom theme. The way it played out I simply had to imagine things if normal sexual inhibitions disappeared and write out what would happen if the women were free to live their fantasies and men had to give them their way. The rest is history...