Tristmegistis has 10 stories published on MenOnTheNet.com's Gay Erotic Stories, including:
My then-fiancée and I discovered the ecstasy of acting out sexual our fantasies quite by accident. It was late one Saturday night and we'd just gotten home from a party. We were both more than slightly tipsy and exceedingly frisky as a result. Our first kiss inside my apartment rapidly escalated into an impassioned grope. "I love how easy it is to get to your tits in this dress," I ...
There was that same avoidance after our second amazing night of perverse debauchery. By the time I woke up, stiff and sore, on the living room carpet, Helen had cleaned herself up and was her normal old self again and acted like nothing had happened. To tell the truth, I was thankful. I'd done and said things to her I was deeply ashamed of. I'd treated a smart, beautiful woman I...
I have to give Helen credit. She never once broke her promise not to act slutty in secret any more. Maybe that's part because I was so hooked on the game myself that I never let more than a month or so pass without silently handing her the key to the storeroom. She knew what to do with it. And it usually happened more than once a month, to tell the truth. It was only the day...
Angela's voice shook with barely restrained anguish. "Why do you do things like this to me, Roger?" It wasn't the first time he'd come home with subtle traces of another woman on him. "Because," he said flatly, "you won't give me what I want." If he hadn't been drunk, the truth would never have escaped him. And nothing could have hurt her more. She fled to their bedroom and locked...
"Jesus," Lisa bitched into her beer, "if I wanted to be a damned secretary, I wouldn't have bothering going to college. I want to be a cop, damn it!" "Know what your problem is?" Barney asked. He didn't lisp any more than he simpered. So much for her naive stereotype of gay men. He was the only person in the precinct she could talk to - her first true friend since high school,...
Chapter II: Hard Duty Barney just sat there, silent as a cemetery. "Jesus," Lisa begged, "say something, will you?" She fumbled a cigarette alight. He stared emptily at her tobacco, shook his head as if to clear it. "Sorry. It's just hard to believe." "What?" she bridled, spitting smoke. "That tight-assed little me has been getting her brains fucked out after ten years of...
Chapter III: The Streets Dawn Friday. The Lisa emerging from the elevator and opening her apartment door wore the same gold mini-dress and matching shoes, the same lurid makeup as the one who'd left the building at ten the evening before. But she wasn't the same, at least in her own mind. She'd done too many things in the intervening eight hours that could never be undone, even if...
Chapter IV: The Princess Rides Out She awoke early - noon. After a great workout that left her tingling, alive all over, she showered and used the last of the hair color. She spent a ritualistic hour before the mirror, painting her living self-portrait. She was pleased by her work, by the malleability of her face, the way it changed so quickly and remarkably into whatever she wanted...
Chapter V: Room 127 Reasoning her way out of depression was like trying to blow her face off with an unloaded weapon. Usually, it was a waste of time, but every now and then she got a surprise. Night finally fell on Sunday. It'd been a long, long day, and none of it had been fun. The attention-stealing skirt and blouse, the heels and hose she wore that night were new. Her hair...
Horror clamped around Lisa like a vice. It took every iota of her strength to keep quiet, not to show any reaction to the news. She hadn't even known his real name. Paul Twilley. She'd only called him fag, wimp, Lisa. He was dead, split from his mutilated cock to his false tits. There were pictures. Her horror had two parts. First came the irrevocability and senselessness of the...
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