Fiends That Go Boink

By A. Silenus

Otherworldly beings put the moves on down-to-earth women in these three stories in the erotica genre. Dreams and fantasies prove to be open doors for a ghost, a demonic familiar and an advertising icon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. Silenus
• Release date: Aug 23, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466179684

A. Silenus

A. Silenus spent his early years in southern England and now lives in Arizona. He writes in various genres under different names.His erotic romance, The River's Embrace, is published by Excessica Publishing.Three short story collections in the erotica genre are available: Fiends That Go Boink, which has otherworldly themes, Obsessions, and Two Men And A Woman In A Boat, loosely inspired by Jerome K. Jerome's Victorian classic.His short stories in the erotica genre have been published online at Fishnet, in Forum magazine in the UK, and in anthologies published by Cleis (Afternoon Delight), Blue Moon (The MILF Anthology) and Ravenous Romance (Wicked Pleasures).

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Fiends That Go Boink

Published by A. Silenus at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 A. Silenus

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Table of Contents:

In Their Shoes

Book Signing (Hazards Of The Road)

We’ll Be Right Back

In Their Shoes

It was one of those long weekend trips Douglas liked to take in the summer. The heat was hanging around the house like a shroud, he’d say, and he was ready to answer the call of the open highway.

Who was I to argue? A chance to escape the city, and the decorative rites involved in being the child wife of a semi-retired executive wasn’t that unbearable. Child wife? That’s what his corporate cronies called me when they thought I was out of earshot. Funny how old people think the whole world is losing its hearing once they start losing theirs.

Don’t get me wrong, I was devoted to the man and his social calendar. What’s not to like about dinner engagements and theater, right? Playing dress up and flirting with maitre d’s every other night? So what was I moping about? Maybe it was the weather.

Yep, that’s what it must be.

I had to drive of course, and believe me it was a few miles before the call of the open highway was much more than a groan of protest. The vision of a hotel dining room was already x-rated in my mind. I pictured him and his buddies swilling drinks and baying at joke after pathetic joke. Me and the rest of the wives would be tittering in sympathy of course. What else could we do? We were there for the duration.

It’s always a relief to get out of the traffic, isn’t it. Finally, trailer ghettoes and truck oases began to give way to ragged crests of sagebrush; breaks began to open up in the blustering barrage of monster trucks hogging the fast lane. Ah, the wild and the free!

Oh, Douglas, wake up! Look what you’re missing. Hey, Dougie, my sweet pecan pie, my amnesia of the gods, take in a piece of this. Breathe deep. Reach out and grab some open space — before you and your developer buddies find a better use for it, that is.

Course I wouldn’t dare. Call him Dougie that is, let alone wake him up. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I could wake him up. Well, maybe I could get his eyes to open and his mouth to utter words. A complete sentence might be too much to expect. But