tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-202223812024-03-07T07:43:16.114+00:00The Erotic LibraryErotic Fiction by Alex & SuzanneAlexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-50065642717055857692013-01-03T20:15:00.001+00:002013-01-03T20:15:42.507+00:00Sex Story CompetitionKinky Halo are holding a sex story writing competition, the theme is school fantasies.
Kinky Halo Erotic Story Competition.
There's a $50 prize so get your writing heads on and send them your entry.Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-56939972683004312102011-06-22T09:03:00.001+00:002011-06-22T09:05:55.382+00:00Free Sex Story WebsiteWe've opened up a new site with lots of out old kinky sex stories and a lot of new ones. In fact over the next couple of days there's a free sex story for those into lactation kink and those of you who like waters ports in the bedroom. Both of these are firsts for me so I'd be interested to see what you all think of them.They can both be found over at KinkyHalo.com.You might also be interested toAlexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1146659433562920912006-05-03T12:30:00.000+00:002006-05-03T12:31:03.386+00:00Elliot Brown - Part 5This story was originally published on AlexSuze.com 7 April 2006.In the entrance hall of the governor’s office a small round beetle of a man scurried scarab like across the marble toward the reception desk. He peered at the young, nameless Barbie doll off a girl behind the counter, “You have a package for me.”She opened her mouth to ask his name, but before she could utter the words he said “It’sAlexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1146077685252272862006-04-26T18:54:00.000+00:002006-04-26T18:57:12.606+00:00Elliot Brown - Part 4This story was originally published on AlexSuze.com 3 April 2006.Elliot picked up the package containing his weapon from Eve’s empty apartment. She was probably in an illegal bar on the fringes of the commercial quarter oiling the wheels of the black market with the money he had paid her for his custom piece. She could handle herself, but he did not let his mind linger on how dangerous it was forAlexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1143751279875657132006-03-30T20:40:00.000+00:002006-03-30T20:51:41.026+00:00Elliot Brown - Part 3This story was originally published on AlexSuze.com 22 March 2006.Tuesday EveneingEve was tied to the bed blindfolded, naked and vulnerable. The room was silent, insulated from the noise of the adjoining brothel. Laying there spread-eagled on her back she remembered when this had been a familiar part of her life. When her and Elliot had been a team, at work and in their up-town apartment. But Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1143222985934378612006-03-24T17:55:00.000+00:002006-03-24T17:57:45.016+00:00Elliot Brown - Part 2This story was originally published on AlexSuze.com 19 March 2006.Tuesday EveneingShe blinked as the laser scanned her retina. “Good evening Mrs Baker”, greeted the rich rounded voice of the apartment’s security system. “Good evening George”, she replied. Her husband was still out. He’d be another couple of hours, recovering from his infidelity with that young slut no doubt.She would have to Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1142882280880212082006-03-20T19:16:00.000+00:002006-03-20T19:18:00.896+00:00Elliot Brown - Part 1This story was originally published on AlexSuze.com 13 March 2006.TuesdayA trail of clothes led from the door of the hotel room to the bed. Two glistening bodies heaved and strained against one another. She lay, blonde hair spread on the pillow, eyes closed, moaning, her young over-enhanced breasts pointed to the ceiling. She implored him to fuck her, impale her with his manhood.He needed no Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1137875444531454102006-01-21T20:29:00.000+00:002006-01-21T20:30:44.550+00:00Meet Me Behind the Bike SHeds - The Piano LessonThis contribution to the behind the bike sheds is by Gigi. As her blog is no longer in existence I asked for a copy to puyblish here, which she kindly provided. Enjoy.“Need help with that Miss?”He said leaning over me. I could smell the alcohol on his breath.“No thank you, Mr. Hanrahan. It’s only one bag, I can manage.”I slammed the car door shut and with my grocery bag in my arms I turned Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1136493139332501282006-01-10T13:10:00.000+00:002006-01-10T13:06:03.066+00:00Behind the Bike Sheds - Part 4, Look Who Had Me for DinnerWhat a week it had been, the best part by far was screwing Alex. I had thought about that encounter several times over the past few days. He really made me feel good that day we fucked. Yes, I had been involved in several relationships over the years but those guys always left me feeling a little dirty and even used. Alex was different; if anything I think he had become a little shy over the Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1136493020472600622006-01-07T09:29:00.000+00:002006-01-07T17:42:37.833+00:00Behind the Bike Sheds - Part 3, Look Who I'm Having for DinnerI have thought quite a lot over the past few days about my encounter with Alex. He has been acknowledging me in class and I know he has been staring at me during lessons. Although he seems to become a little reticent, I’m not sure if he regrets what we did or is a little embarrassed. I would like to think he might be a little shy. I’ll sure help him get over that one.Anyway, it is Friday night Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1136492861873064002006-01-06T09:26:00.000+00:002006-01-06T18:53:46.233+00:00Behind the Bike Sheds - Part 2, Boys will be boysSuze wrote a story recently about what it would have been like if we had been at school together and had hooked up then. Pure fantasy as we met up after high school, but a very provocative thought. I do have a thing about school uniforms, not schoolgirls, I’d like to make that very clear, just naughty grown-up girls in school uniforms. OK I admit it any form of smart uniform, military, police, Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1136492563065471282006-01-05T20:21:00.000+00:002006-01-05T20:22:43.080+00:00Behind the Bike Sheds - Part 1, I'll meet you behind the Bike ShedsThis is an English expression used in relation to “relations” in schools. It refers to hiding away and taking part in an activity which would surely get you in to trouble, or possibly expelled. Such as smoking or drinking alcohol.You may all be wondering if at this point I have taken leave of my senses. No, I was reminded of this expression the other day when Alex got talking about his days at Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1135941498711414852006-01-04T01:00:00.000+00:002005-12-31T11:54:17.070+00:00Yew Tree Manor - Part 6Kate and John were floating about 500 metres above Time Square, bobbing up and down slightly in the warm summer breeze wafting across Manhattan. The sun warmed their backs as they regarded the scene below.Looking down at the crowds on the sidewalks Kate asked, “Have you ever truly loved one of these creatures? I mean really loved, not lusted after, or used, or destroyed them.”“Once”, John repliedAlexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1135812295593359532006-01-03T01:00:00.000+00:002005-12-31T11:54:07.830+00:00Yew Tree Manor - Part 5Kate was walking down Oxford Street when she first heard the voice. It was quieter than a whisper, but carried over the noise of the Christmas shoppers milling around her. She looked round. “What do you want?”, she thought.“I felt your little tantrum at the manor”, said the voice.“What are you talking about?”, she thought. She had been trying to forget the manor, mark it down as one of her Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1135812217317657742006-01-02T01:00:00.000+00:002005-12-31T11:53:35.450+00:00Yew Tree Manor - Part 4Kate screamed a hellish scream. Her obsidian heart burning with hatred for these despicable mortal creatures.She swooped back to the dining room. Mark and Luke were gibbering on the carpet. Each experiencing their own personal purgatory as they relived the events of a few minutes ago.“Get out”, yelled Kate. They ran, despite their minds being horribly damaged, despite their perception of the Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1135812111527733382006-01-01T01:00:00.000+00:002006-01-01T11:40:00.810+00:00Yew Tree Manor - Part 3Hurld headlong flaming from th' Ethereal SkieWith hideous ruine and combustion downTo bottomless perdition, there to dwellIn Adamantine Chains and penal Fire,Paradise Lost, John Milton, 1667When Peter and Kate eventually entered the kitchen, the other couples were already picking at the food as they carried it through to the dining room.Emily was talking to Mark, next to the sink. She stopped Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1135812017993326282005-12-31T01:00:00.000+00:002005-12-30T21:46:33.616+00:00Yew Tree Manor - Part 2A savage place! As holy and enchantedAs e’er beneath a waning moon was hauntedBy a woman wailing for her demon lover!Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Kubla Khan, 1798-99Peter opened the front door to be greeted by a comic tableaux. Four of his friends, dressed as if they had just stepped out of a certain Chateaux on lake Lucerne at the turn of the 19th century. Unfortunately they had stepped out into oneAlexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1135811923135832992005-12-30T01:00:00.000+00:002005-12-30T21:45:17.036+00:00Yew Tree Manor - Part 1Like one that on a lonesome roadDoth walk in fear and dread,And having once turned round walks on,And turns no more his head;Because he knows, a frightful fiendDoth close behind him tread.Samuel Taylor Coleridge, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, 1797-98The house stood at the very top of a hill surrounded by trees, but visible from all sides. The trees, now leafless as autumn drew on and winter Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1135811826196351582005-12-29T01:00:00.000+00:002005-12-29T14:48:02.203+00:00Yew Tree Manor - Prologue IIThe old man sat on the rocky promontory looking out over the bay, and beyond into the Atlantic. Over the horizon, thousands of leagues away was the New World. And it was new, discovered only a few hundred years ago. In universal terms a few centuries is the blink of an eye.The old man’s rod supported a fishing line that fell away twenty-five metres to the crashing waves below. It was late summer Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1135811644421104322005-12-28T23:13:00.000+00:002005-12-28T23:14:04.440+00:00Yew Tree Manor - Prologue IWe are the sum of our experiences. Aside from our physical makeup we are forged by our hopes and fears, our triumphs and our defeats, our love and our loathing. The choices we make change the course of our lives, perhaps minutely, perhaps wrenching us from one path onto another. But once made, they resonate throughout the rest of our existence.None of us can foresee the outcome of the choices we Alexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20222381.post-1135682745253125382005-12-27T11:24:00.000+00:002005-12-27T11:28:04.746+00:00The Erotic LibraryThis is a place were all our erotic fiction will be kept. It'll be published on AlexSuze as well, but here it'll be more accessible if the fictional stories is what you're looking for.Alex & SuzeAlexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14796847764627269562noreply@blogger.com2