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The Alien Aphrodisiac and Other Weird Sex Tales [MultiFormat]
eBook by M. J. Rennie

eBook Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica
eBook Description: Femdom, maledom, and the often kinky twists found in dum dum dee dum are among the secrets revealed in M. J. Rennie's latest story collection, Weird Sex Tales. Set in a variety of alternate universes, this all-new array of erotic yarns switches from normal to paranormal in the blink of an alien eye. Included in Rennie's array of peculiar parables are the following: An older woman's previously suppressed dominant nature emerges when she is drawn into an intimate relationship with her former son-in-law. Does wealth consist of material things alone, or does a great love life rate higher? A hotly passionate pair considers. A couple's intimate video session at the site of a old shipwreck sparks an internet Sex-Tube sensation. An exhibition of feminine dominant art spurs a woman and her best friend to try things on their husbands they've never tried before. A man with fantastically powerful alien amulet takes a break from amour with his beloved to fend off cannibals from outer space. Can a threesome be a permanent arrangement? A casual encounter evolves into something more long-lasting for a special trio. Two football fanatics fall in love at a rain-soaked game, and enjoy wildly inventive sex afterwards. Touchdown! A young punk rocker has groupies galore, but falls for a sophisticated woman who looks down on his music--and him. At once bemused, lewd, enchanting, charming, sensual, sultry, and strange, M. J. Rennie's eye for vivid detail and eminently elegant style are on full display in this wonderfully wicked collection. Cover: T. L. Mars

eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler Editions
Fictionwise Release Date: October 2008

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By no means was the house at 3995 Monroe in Southwest Slateville a mansion, but it was large, comfortable, and familiar. At 3200 square feet, it boasted three spacious bedrooms, one small guest room, three baths, two fireplaces, a den, a study, a modern kitchen, a living room, and a formal dining room.

Best of all, it sat on a quarter acre hillside lot with a beautiful view, overlooking the city.

At the present moment, Myrna Thompson's soon-to-be ex son-in-law Eric Demond resided there, although he was in the process of getting ready to turn the place over to her.

Eric's marriage to Myrna's daughter Destiny had been history for more than a year, but the property settlement, as usual, had taken far longer to resolve. Meanwhile, Eric paid a nominal rent to Myrna, in return for keeping the property maintained.

However, Eric had recently found an apartment in a building nearby and had signed a lease.

Myrna was therefore faced with a decision: Should she move back into the place where her own happy marriage to Destiny's father had been joyful, but where her daughter's marriage to Eric had turned sour? Or, memories aside, should Myrna simply stay in the condominium where she currently lived? There were strong arguments on both sides.

On the plus side, Myrna still owned the house, free and clear, having wisely supplied the use of it to Destiny and Eric, but not the title. Unfortunately, the apartment Myrna lived in now felt cramped, and the kitchen was simply atrocious. By contrast, the Monroe Street house had plenty of storage, an enormous master suite, and a lovely, remodeled kitchen,

On the minus side, there was the problem of upkeep. Myrna would have to find a boy to take care of maintenance, the yard, repairs, and the myriad other tasks for which males are ideally suited. And it was terribly hard to find good help.

Following her instincts, as Myrna usually did, she decided to return to her former residence.

There was another factor unrelated to her housing situation that Myrna found increasingly difficult to accept. At the condo in the upscale adult community where she lived since allowing Destiny and Eric to move into the family home, Myrna had run into numerous difficulties with her neighbors.

As an attractive widow in her mid forties, Myrna had found the so-called "senior" lifestyle rather too antiseptic and boring. Though old, the men were nice, but their wives were altogether too gossipy, spiteful, and downright mean, partly because their husbands were attracted to her.

Besides, given the superb condition Eric had kept the house in since Destiny had left, it just felt right to move in.

Therefore, on a glorious spring day, a Tuesday, the movers arrived with Myrna's belongings. Eric met her at the front door to hand over the keys and to give his former mother-in-law a tour of the premises.

"Mrs. Thompson, of course I know you know the house," Eric said, in an abashed voice. "But I'd like to point out some of the updates I've undertaken."

"Thank you, Eric," Myrna said. "I must confess the place does look awfully nice."

Eric beamed. Then his expression darkened momentarily.

"I'm sorry about the way things turned out between me and Destiny, Mrs. Thompson," he said.

Myrna smiled warmly, wistfully. The failure of her daughter's marriage was a particular sore spot, the result of Destiny having fallen in love with another man. Destiny had left Eric to go live with this man, whom Myrna disliked.

"Nothing that happened is anything that you should feel badly about, Eric. I know how hard you tried to convince Destiny that your marriage was worth saving. I was proud to have you as my son-in-law. My daughter felt otherwise."

"That's very sweet of you to say, Mrs. Thompson. It makes me feel better to know that you don't blame me."

Eric smiled for the first time now, also a bit wistfully, Myrna observed.

Truth be told, it was difficult to see, on the surface, why Destiny had rejected Eric during their brief marriage. He was tall, muscular, and quite handsome, with curly brown hair and pale blue eyes. Not only was Eric attractive, he was witty, well-informed, refined, and possessed of excellent manners.

In drawn out conversations with Destiny about her separation and divorce, the only thing Myrna could get out of her daughter was a consistent complaint that Eric was too "wimpy."

"I want a less dependent man, who isn't so slavishly obedient to me all the time," Destiny had said.

Well, whatever Destiny had identified as Eric's shortcomings, Myrna had found him very appealing, despite the fact that he was fourteen years her junior. That made Eric five years older than Destiny, which Myrna had previously thought was an ideal age differential between a woman and her husband.

After all, hadn't Myrna's late husband Robert been almost exactly five years older than her on the day of their marriage?

A man should always be at least several years older than the woman he marries, shouldn't he? Myrna thought.

Sure. But lately, Myrna had begun to question some of the certainties that had governed her life while Robert was alive. His death from a heart attack shortly after Destiny's marriage to Eric had shaken the foundations of Myrna's beliefs.

Only in the last year had Myrna begun to date, though not very seriously. And once she had started dating, she also started wondering whether it was worthwhile to do it.

The men available to a woman her age were often quite feeble or just plain irritating, many harboring obsolete ideas about the man dominating and the woman submitting.

Worse of all were the old men's bodies. Myrna found that she couldn't bear to look at skinny, hairless legs and knobby knees on a man. Sunken chests and flabby bellies were a huge turn off too, especially since Robert had always striven to keep himself in shape. He had looked great, right up to the day of his death. His sudden cardiac arrest had not only been a shock, it had been a surprise as well. You just never knew.

Finally, if Myrna was going to be with a man, she would expect to be intimate with him. No amount of prescription erectile dysfunction medication could possibly enliven the limp, lifeless penises and boggy, drooping testicles she'd come across during her recent liaisons.

If Myrna was going to be with a man again, she wanted to be his wife, not his nurse.

Myrna was still beautiful in middle age, a vivacious, outgoing woman with a keen intelligence and loads of energy. An older, riper version of her beautiful daughter, Myrna was weathering the change of life with exceptional grace.

Blessed with brunette hair and a pretty oval face, Myrna also had a pair of large, liquid grey eyes that seemed to look right through the person she was speaking to at any given time.

Coupled with her full, sensuous lips, and small, slight nose, Myrna had the classic, chiseled features of a model.

Complimenting Myrna's facial beauty was a body that many women half her age would commit a felony for. Following her husband's death, Myrna had gained weight, but then, in an act of self discipline, she had taken it off.

Her breasts, which had been large almost from the instant they appeared at age fourteen, were still firm and showed little sign of sag.

Additionally, Myrna looked fabulous in almost any outfit she wore, displaying a natural chic that was the envy of the women in her circle. Her clothing was invariably well cut, stylish, and typically expensive.

On moving day, Eric showed Myrna the fixtures he had replaced, the new tile he'd laid in the laundry room and kitchen, the new appliances, and all manner of repairs and fixits. He was particularly eager to show off the upgrades he had made to the bathrooms, installing new tubs, sinks, toilets, shelves, and even a bidet in the master bath. The fixtures were top quality and the accents were nicely chosen color-wise.

"I deeply appreciate your dedication in caring for a property that was not, and likely never will be your own." Myrna said. "You've done splendidly, Eric."

"Thank you. Perhaps I should also tell you the dishwasher probably needs replacement. It worked fine until about three weeks ago. Now it's beginning to sound funny, and you have to run through an extra cycle to make sure they get clean."

"I'll attend to that as soon as feasible." Myrna declared.

From there, Myrna followed Eric outside into the garden. The afternoon sun fell on Myrna's pink knit top, which contrasted nicely with her white wool skirt, nylon stockings, and white, high-heeled pumps. The knit top displayed Myrna's shapely bosom to particularly good advantage.

Myrna's skirt, meanwhile, fit snugly on her hips, swelling in the back where it covered her firm, prominent buttocks. On this very pleasant spring day, she appeared to be the very picture of fashionable, mature womanhood.

Eric's eyes traveled over Myrna's form discreetly. Truth be told, he had felt an attraction to his wife's mother from the date of their first meeting. Although Eric had been deeply in love with Destiny and completely devoted to her during the years of their marriage, he could not deny that his feelings for Myrna were exceptionally strong.

As far as Eric was concerned, Myrna was not only charming and personable, her aura of sophisticated sexiness often left him incredibly aroused.

Despite that, Eric was resolved not to let it show.

Too much.

After the garden tour was concluded, there was one last thing Eric wanted to say before taking his leave.

"Mrs. Thompson--"

"Eric," Myrna interrupted, "I'd prefer it if you called me by my first name," she said. "I've always found Mrs. Thompson a shade too formal."

Eric nodded agreeably.

"Myrna," he began, "as you can see, the house is in good order. But the yard still needs a lot of attention, particularly now that we are in the growing season. I just want you to know that if anything comes up, I'd be happy to assist. The biggest issue is that swampy area in the back yard, where water comes down off the hill. A French drain that would channel the excess water to the street is the best solution. I really love this house, and I'm pretty handy with tools. I can take care of most repairs that crop up."

"Why, thank you, Eric. I can see that you've put in quite a lot of effort, keeping the house maintained. I appreciate it very much. You know, this is the house where my husband and I raised Destiny, and so it holds many fond memories."

"I know it does."

There was a moment when they looked into each other's eyes, and a feeling passed between them. It seemed to indicate that despite the failure of Destiny's marriage to Eric, Myrna and her former son-in-law enjoyed a rapport transcending their present circumstances.

For a man who had been cheated on and deserted by his wife, Eric appeared largely untroubled, perhaps even relieved. At the same time, it was Myrna's first awareness that Eric might have feelings for her beyond her role as his ex-wife's mother.

After Eric left that day, Myrna supervised the moving in of her furniture and personal items. She had little time to think about Eric's barely-concealed attraction to her.

It wasn't until later that night, in the hour right after she went to sleep, that Myrna experienced an extraordinary dream, one that left her restless, aroused, and somewhat disturbed.

In her dream, Eric confessed to Myrna his feelings for her by calling her cell phone, and, not reaching her, leaving a most poignant message:

"Myrna, maybe you never expected to hear from me again, but I've been thinking about you and I just had to call. I don't blame you for not wanting to be bothered. The problem I'm having is that I can't get you out of my mind. I love you and there is nothing I can do about it. No matter how hard I try to push away my thoughts of you, they keep coming into my head. The reason I'm calling is that I'd like to see you, and wonder if that would be okay. I love you very much."

Myrna awoke with a start, wondering why she had dreamt such a peculiar stew of impossible notions. It gnawed at her for quite some time. To get it out of her head and get back to sleep, Myrna masturbated for the first time in months, experiencing an orgasm so intense that she cried out in the darkness.

* * * *

Exactly one month later, Eric was at Myrna's house, having finished digging a ditch in the backyard, funneling water from a swampy area along the back fence into a collecting pipe. From there the pipe channeled the water to a city-owned storm drain. It had been difficult, exhausting work, but Eric had done it, and he was now ready to knock off for the day.

He rapped on the patio door to tell Myrna that he was loading his tools into his truck and planned to leave soon.

Myrna came outside to inspect the work. Already water was flowing from the soggy space into the drainage system. She was pleased with the results and said so.

"I want to thank you so much, Eric. That has been a problem the whole time we've lived here. It's been a breeding ground for mosquitoes and flies, I'm sorry to say. My husband Robert was never quite able to decide what to do about it."

While Myrna walked around, Eric had a hard time keeping his eyes averted from her fetching body.

She was dressed in a crisp white romper and white sandals. A white straw hat covered her head in the sunshine.

Eric, by contrast, was shirtless and sweaty. He wore a pair of ragged cut-off jeans, work boots, and a khaki baseball cap with a French Foreign Legion-type flap that covered his ears and the back of his neck.

He had, Myrna noted, a pair of strong, muscular arms and a hard, flat belly. Eric's tanned, hairy legs were attractive enough to draw her appreciative gaze, as the adjunct they were to his virile, masculine presence.

Reaching for the work shirt he had taken off after the day grew hot, Eric threw it over his shoulder. Myrna could see that his arms, shoulders, and chest glistened with manly sweat.

Myrna steeled herself to ask Eric a question, one that she had debated all day long, as he worked outside in the yard. Perhaps she was feeling nervous for nothing.

After all, if he said no, he said no.

"Eric, I was wondering if you'd care to dine with me," Myrna said. "I have a delicious meal in the works and I'd be delighted to share it with you. It would be my way of rewarding you for the hard work you've put in here today."

"That's very sweet, Myrna. But you're already paying me and I wouldn't want to impose on you."

"It wouldn't be an imposition. Really."

"I'd have to get cleaned up. I'm a mess."

"You could change clothes here. I have extra robes, slippers, sandals. Everything. As soon as you're showered, we could enjoy a nice cocktail. I make a fine margarita, you know."

Eric gave Myrna his most engaging smile.

"I think I'd like that."

Under Myrna's guidance, Eric showered, changing into a blue terrycloth robe and slippers that had previously belonged to her late husband, Robert.

Dinner was delicious, just as Myrna had promised. The only drawback was that her new dishwasher hadn't been installed yet and she was forced for the time being to do dishes by hand.

Not only did Eric help carry them to the kitchen, he offered to help wash them.

"That's very sweet, Eric. What would you like to do? Wash or dry?"

"I'll be happy to wash."

"Well, if you're going to do that, you'll need rubber gloves and an apron."


Myrna got one of her old cotton bib aprons from the linen closet down the hall. It was in a dark shade of pink, with ruffles on the hem and lace accents adorning the bib. Eric put it on without protest and soon after he had snapped on the gloves, he was busy with the scouring pad.

The job was a two sink operation, and the water in the rinsing sink was very hot. Eric wore the apron over the terrycloth robe Myrna had given him, careful not to let the rinse water splash on either of them. They talked as easily as a longtime married couple while they worked, laughing and getting the chore done in short order.

With the dishes out of the way, they enjoyed an after dinner drink--brandy with Irish cream. Eric didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave, and frankly, Myrna was in no hurry to see him go. They talked for several more hours, until it was nearly midnight.

During the course of that discussion, Eric confessed that he had always admired Myrna and thought her very attractive.

"But more than that," Eric went on, "I sense that you are a very dominant personality, and because of that, I am especially drawn to you. I find myself wanting to serve you."

Myrna's body experienced arousal in that moment, reflecting a strange inner excitement, as the full import of what Eric had said became clear. Still, she sought further clarification.

"I'm not sure just what you mean, Eric. I've never considered myself a dominant person. I suppose I could be called assertive, perhaps, but not dominant. In fact, I think I'm a little concerned that you should think of me that way."

Eric's face reflected confusion and embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I apologize for any wrong impression. I feel bad that I may have misjudged you. I never intended to do that. Please forgive me."

"Well," Myrna said, taking a deep breath. "I suppose I could be being too hard on you. We haven't been close enough for you to know my thinking. I appreciate your honesty, Eric, but I believe you fundamentally misunderstand my temperament."

"Again, I am dreadfully sorry," Eric said.

"That's all right," Myrna said with a smile. "We'll just consider the matter closed."

This course of action was agreeable to Eric, as Myrna expected it would be.

"We've talked so long that it's quite late," Myrna said brightly. "Eric, I wonder if you shouldn't spend the night here, in the guest room. I don't want to jeopardize your safety by letting you drive after you've been drinking. What do you think?"

"I would be happy to spend the night," Eric answered, "in the guest room. I'm not eager to drive either."

"Then it's settled."

They retired for the evening, Myrna to her bedroom and Eric to the guest room. After a long day of physical labor, he fell asleep immediately. Myrna had more trouble, her mind working on what Eric had confessed to her.

Mmm ... Why was it that Eric wanted to "serve" her? What did he mean when he said that she was "dominant?"

An hour after lying down, and with no answer to her questions, Myrna drifted into a restless, yet excited slumber.

The following morning, Myrna awakened early, and despite the late hours they had kept the previous night, she felt refreshed and energetic. As soon as Myrna donned her robe and brushed her hair, she crept down the hall to the guest room. She went with the intention of waking Eric so they could begin the day.

Myrna saw that the door to the room was open, and that he was still asleep. The night had been warm, and the covers were off as Eric slept, on his side, facing the door.

There, in all its masculine glory, rose Eric's penis, fiercely erect! Myrna took a sudden breath as she gazed upon it, the thing swollen with that peculiar tension young men often experience in the morning.

The phrase most typically used to describe this phenomenon, which Myrna had never heard, is "Morning Wood."

Though she might be unaware of vulgar colloquial terminology, Myrna was not immune to a display of potent male virility.

Eric's organ was a singular specimen, very long and thick, with a blunt crimson head and pulsing purple veins running lengthwise along the immense shaft. His testicles, also large, hugged the base like a pair of pink, nesting eggs.

Despite the extreme allure of Eric's penis, Myrna shook herself free from its spell and quietly approached the bed. There were a number of issues she still wished to discuss with Eric, left over from the previous evening.

She needed answers.

Myrna drew the bedspread over Eric's exposed manhood and gently shook him awake.

"Come get up, Eric," she said. "It's time for breakfast."

* * * *

They took breakfast that morning while dressed in robes again, with Eric wearing another that had formerly belonged to Myrna's late husband. This one was pure white terrycloth, luxurious, soft, and fluffy. Over coffee, Myrna probed Eric about why he wanted to "serve" her and continue to be part of her life.

"Such an interest is unique in my experience," Myrna said. "No man has ever made such a proposal to me."

With that, the whole story of Eric's desire for domination came spilling out. For years, he said, he had admired Myrna, whom he found extremely sexy and appealing. He informed Myrna that he couldn't get her out of his mind, using almost the same words he had spoken in her dream!

"Besides being involved in your life, I want to do domestic chores for you. It would thrill me to do your laundry, cooking, cleaning, repairs, and housework. Nothing I could think of would make me happier or more fulfilled," Eric said,

A warm sensation worked its way through Myrna's lush body, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

"Why?" Myrna managed to ask. "Why would you want to do those things specifically? Is there something sexual to it?"

Eric lowered his eyes, nodding. Yes, apparently there was. At that point, Eric asked if he could get on Myrna's computer, so that together they could look at some of his preferred "Feminine Domination" internet web sites.

"There's a lot of information about it available nowadays," he said. "It isn't all hidden away, as was the case in the past."

Indeed it was not, although Myrna was certainly a newcomer to this type of material. And because of her generally conservative outlook, she was predisposed to look unfavorably on it.

However, as Eric surfed through the various web pages, Myrna found herself becoming increasingly aroused, despite the affronts to her refined nature that many web sites presented.

Myrna found that she was rather drawn to the essential idea of Feminine Domination, and that Eric's obvious enthusiasm for the practice had a contagious effect on her.

The most compelling concept in her mind was the notion that a woman could take control of a man's sexual organs, employing one of the new polycarbonate Male Chastity Devices that were being marketed. Myrna could plainly see how this would provide a woman with the upper hand in a relationship.

"This is interesting," she said at last. "I can see where there are many advantages in being part of a Feminine Dominant couple, with its clear delineation of interpersonal roles. But for us, Eric, there are too many obstacles. First of all, I'm sure my daughter Destiny would not approve."

"I understand that, Myrna. I would never want to come between you and your daughter."

"That's good, because you won't. In a situation where I would have to choose between you or Destiny, my daughter would win out. On the other hand, I would very much like to avail myself of your services, in the role of houseboy. However, I also want you to know there will never be anything sexual between us."

"Yes, Myrna."

"Furthermore, I would insist that there be no expectations on your part, emotionally or otherwise. If we were to proceed with a domestic arrangement, any satisfaction you receive shall derive from serving me, and serving me well. You see, Eric, I have very strict standards for the household responsibilities I would require you to undertake, and if you fail at them, it would be necessary for me to alter or discontinue our arrangement."

"But you will ... let me do things for you?" Eric asked.

Myrna nodded. "For the time being, yes. But only under the conditions I have outlined."

"When would I start?"

"Right now, I think."


"Yes. We can start by training you to do my laundry, a task a find particularly onerous. Follow me."

Myrna brought Eric to the laundry room downstairs, where she showed him the basket filled with soiled clothing and instructed him in the operation of the washer and dryer.

"While we're at it, why don't you fetch your dirty clothes from yesterday and we'll wash them right now?"

Eric got his clothes and brought them down. Myrna had already started the machine. She demonstrated the various controls and showed him how to drape his clothes around the agitator--jeans, work shirt, socks, and underwear.

Then Myrna looked at Eric, frowning.

"The robe I am wearing is freshly laundered," she said. "But yours has been in the closet for many months. I think you should put it in the washer as well."

Eric's face flushed.

"But I'm naked underneath."

Myrna lightly touched her fingers to Eric's cheek.

"Eric," she said, in a warmly maternal tone, "as I told you, there will not be anything overtly sexual between us. But that doesn't mean I expect you to be physically inhibited around me. I have no interest in you sexually. All I want to do is make sure that you know how to handle my household chores properly and that you obey me readily. So take off that robe and put it in the washing machine."

Eric blushed deeply. But because Myrna was such a formidable presence--so commanding, so powerful--he could not resist.

Without another word, Eric undid the cord at his waist and took off the terrycloth robe.

He felt a little uncomfortable, especially since his penis was in a state of semi-erection. He bunched up the robe and dropped it in the machine, which was now full and beginning to churn.

"Not that way!" Myrna said sharply. "Your load will become unbalanced if you stick it in like that." She reached down and arranged the robe in a circle around the agitator.

"See? Curl it around this big upright thing. Like this."

"Oh yes, I see."

Myrna closed the lid and looked at Eric. No expression showed on her face, but within, her excitement was acute.

"I suppose we need you to put on something while we wait for your clothes," she said. "At least to keep that thing covered."

"What would you suggest?"

"Let's go upstairs to my bedroom. I still have some panties from when I was rather heavier than I am now. I think they might fit you. If you don't mind."

"Umm--no, I guess I don't mind."

"Good. After that, we can go through my closet together, and I can demonstrate how I want you to launder my undergarments. I am most particular about them, you know."

"I understand."

Myrna smiled. They went upstairs together, with Myrna in the lead, and a nude, nervous Eric holding her hand.

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