Sunday, June 10, 2012


BILLY'S RETURN by Alex J. Alex

Three girls and only one Billy? Can he keep up?

It all started when Susan accidentally called up a minor demoness named Pantallas with a Tarot card. Then, at Diana’s birthday party, they played strip poker, all three of the girls and Billy, but that was before anyone knew about the pill so nobody went all the way.

Then Billy went to Viet Nam.

This story is about his return two years later. They are all on the pill now and intend to take advantage of it. Is Billy up to it? Can he really take on all three of the girls? Oh yeah! And all at the same time, with the help of Pantallas. But which one will he end up with?



Pantallas hovered, unseen, above them in the shower. She waved her hands in a ritual gesture. Billy’s **** stiffened instantly, standing straight out, pointing at Susan.
“Oh my,” whispered Susan to herself.
She stood up and turned off the shower. They exited and dried off with the large towels thoughtfully provided by Joan. Susan led him out and into the largest bedroom, her wide, round hips rolling from side to side. There, in the middle of the largest king-size bed he had ever seen, were Joan and Diana, naked and flushed, waiting for Billy and Susan to join them. They were fingering themselves.
Susan dropped between them and joined them in playing with herself.
Joan sat up and smiled at Billy. “It’s my turn again. I’ve been practicing something, and I hope I can do it right. I might choke, so these two will have to help.”
She turned around and leaned her head off the edge of the bed, looking up at Billy. She looked at his **** and reached out for it.
“What I want you to do is **** my throat. I want you to slide that thing of yours all the way down into my throat so I can feel every bit of it while I swallow and keep swallowing. Now, you’ll have to pull almost all the way out on each stroke, so I can breathe, but I want you all the way in, too, each time.
Billy looked down at her. She tilted her head back and opened her mouth as wide as she could. Diana and Susan got up on each side of him and pushed him forward. Joan reached up and caressed his balls, which were hanging down and swinging beneath his ****. With her other hand, she guided it into her mouth and sucked it in.
“Ohhh!” said Billy. He pushed his hips forward so that his **** slid deep into her throat, and he could feel the muscles rippling around him as she swallowed, guiding his **** down the right pipe. His balls slapped against her forehead. He pulled out again so she could take a breath, but then, it felt so good, he involuntarily thrust forward again.
“Oh my god!” he yelled.
Pantallas made sure he stayed stiff and hard, and she made sure that Joan didn’t choke or gag and got enough air to breathe.
“Oh, Joan!” Billy thrust into her throat again, and then again. They developed a rhythm. Billy closed his eyes for a moment, then he looked down at her. He could see her throat expand as his dick entered and slid down into her esophagus.
Susan was rubbing her tits against his left side. She pulled his hand to her ***** and he played with her clitoris.
Diana got back up on the bed, stood up and placed her feet on either side of Joan’s head. She pulled Billy’s face to her *****, playing with it and spreading the lips.
Billy licked out with his tongue to her clitoris: it smelled so wonderful and tasted so good. He sucked on the little hood covering the most sensitive part of her *****.
“Ohhh!” she moaned.
Susan was caressing his balls as he slid his **** in and out, down Joan’s throat. He was still rubbing her clit.
With his other hand he reached around behind Diana and pulled her toward his face, playing with her marvelous ass as he sucked on her *****. He stuck his tongue in as far as he could, trying to insert it up into her ******.
Pantallas made sure he was successful.
“Oh god, Billy.”
Her hands were behind his head, crushing his face to her crotch.
And all the time, he continued to **** Joan’s throat. He had come so many times already that it seemed to last forever. Diana shuddered over and over again as he used his tongue to elicit the most satisfying orgasms she could have.
She finally had enough and almost lost her balance when she got dizzy on the last orgasm. She got down, and Susan took her place. He brought her to a massive orgasm which made her twitch and buck against his face. She, too, finally had had enough and got down.
And he continued to **** Joan’s throat. He looked down, fascinated by the way her throat expanded each time his **** entered it. He looked down the bed at her clean shaven *****. She was fingering herself. He leaned over and licked at her, brushing her hand away.
“Mmmm!” she moaned.
He lay down on top of her and, reaching around behind her to grab the cheeks of that perfect ass, he dropped his face between her legs and sucked her clit into his mouth. His nose pushed up into her ******. He continued to **** her throat as he did his best to pleasure her. Her juices were flowing all over his face. He finally rolled on his back, pulling her over on top of him. The sight of her ass bouncing up and down as he licked her ***** fascinated him and he finally felt himself beginning to come.

Friday, June 1, 2012


ANTARES by Alex J. Alex

In the arena where nude combatants fight like old west gunslingers, usually to the death—ala The Quick And The Dead—gladiator training usually begins at eighteen and few live to see their next birthday. Any who survive are usually retired within ten years.

At forty, Antares and Maximus are the greatest champions in history. Maximus has been consulting a soothsayer for years. Antares thinks such is silly, but he convinces her to see the old Tarot reader. When the five of Pentacles appears, the reader predicts hard times, suffering, poor health and rejection and recommends that Antares retire.

Antares ignores the advice and her next fight is the most brutal event in arena history. Badly wounded, she beheads her opponent, but suffers a terrible disfigurement and disability that forces her to retire. Antares is shunned, becomes addicted to several vices and ends up a vagrant.

Contacted by a writer/journalist who senses a great story, Antares is rescued and rehabilitated by a shady, unlicensed, but brilliant doctor. Visiting the soothsayer once again, she is urged to seek out Maximus.

Maximus’s life has not turned out well either. He was supposed to meet a wonderful woman, marry, have children, etc., but he never met her—she’s the woman Antares killed in the arena. The question is, what will Antares find?



Antares didn’t put much stock in the soothsayers, but Maximus had talked her into a session with the Tarot reader. She sat there while the ugly woman played with the cards. A concerned look came over the old woman. She looked up and placed the card in front of Antares.

“This is a bad card. The five of Pentacles. It foretells hard times, suffering and ill health. It also indicates rejection.”

Antares looked down her exquisitely formed nose at the card. “It doesn’t look so bad to me.”

“Ah. But that’s what you have me for. I can tell you what it means.”

Antares squirmed in her chair. I don’t have time for this, she thought.

“You are a gladiator, aren’t you?”

Antares nodded.

“Are you any good? Well, of course you are. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be alive, would you?”

The old woman grinned up at Antares who just stared back at her.

“In what event do you compete?”

Antares cleared her throat. “I’m a gunslinger. I’m the top shooter in the arena. I’ve never even been nicked. Most of my opponents are dead before they can even draw, never mind get off a shot.”

The old woman nodded. “Mmmm. Your health is good?”


“You look good. You are very beautiful.”

Antares laughed. “That is true. That is why I command such high rewards to compete.”

“Your hand is steady? Your vision is good?”

“Excellent. And I’m the fastest shooter they’ve ever seen, anywhere. They’ve timed me with a chronograph. And I’m accurate. I shoot to kill. And I’m very good at it.”

“Yes. You’ve killed many women, haven’t you?”

Antares frowned. “That’s my job. It’s what I do. People pay a lot of money to watch me kill other women, especially if they’re pretty, or sexy.”

“Mmmmm. I’ll wager they would pay even more to see someone else kill you.”

Antares squirmed in her chair. This interview was getting uncomfortable. “They probably would. A lot of people bet against me every time I enter the arena. They lose. I wouldn’t bet against me if I were you.”

“Mmmm. Well, the cards don’t lie. Be careful. It may be time to retire.”

Antares laughed. “Retire? I’m the best there ever was, and I’m at the top of my game. Retire? Shit. That’ll be the day.”


Monday, January 3, 2011



It's 1969. Max has been home from Viet Nam for a year now and he takes another trip. Last year he went across the country to California and back, meeting fascinating women every place he stopped. This year he travels the Old South and meets even more women that are fascinating. You decide whether 1969 is better than 1968 was.

Check out the first Max Daily book - THE ADVENTURES OF MAX DAILY



Mickey held Max’s hand as she led him out and onto the ramp to the boardwalk. She led him across the deserted promenade and up toward the Steel Pier. They came to a little space between two booths on the inside and she stopped him. The booths were both closed up for the night. It was after four o’clock in the morning. She reached up to kiss him.

“This is my special place,” she said.

She squeezed between the booths and jumped off the edge of the boardwalk down to the sand beneath.

“Come on, Max.”

Max squeezed through, too and dropped down beside her. She led him under the boardwalk toward the beach. He could hear the surf pounding as the tide came in. She had a small, dark green blanket on the sand, about ten feet back from the beach edge of the boardwalk.

“It’s just back far enough that nobody notices, but it’s close enough to the beach that I can see everything,” she said.

Mickey dropped down on the blanket and looked up winsomely at Max. He lay down beside her. In no time, they were embracing each other, sharing kisses and exploring each other under their clothing. Max pulled up her sweater and bra to find her hard succulent nipples. He sucked on them long and hard.

“Nobody will notice us this late,” she said.

They removed their clothes and tangled their limbs together. Mickey seemed to be surprised that Max was ready again, but she took advantage of it. They made long, slow, gentle love again and then once more, taking a little nap between each episode.

Max awoke to the sun shining down through the slats above him. As he looked up, a woman walked across his field of view and he stared up her dress.

Mickey was stirring, too.

“Damn,” she said, “I didn’t think it was this late. We’ve got to get out of here.”


Wednesday, July 15, 2009



New Short Story Collection Gives Us Love, War, Humor and Horror

From a sniper in the jungle, a snake in the desert, and three shady characters involved in a very unusual execution, to witches in New England, an old fisherman, and both sides of the tragic war of attrition on the Emerald Isle, Alex J Alex gives us love stories, tragedies, war stories, and humorous touches in everything from very short to long. Enjoy reading them, but keep the nightlight on!


Pierre was about to bust, but he waited for her to notice the battered violin case on the table.

“What’s this?” she finally asked.

“Open it,” he said.

Her eyes grew wide as she opened the case and lifted the instrument, feeling its perfect balance and examining the exquisite wood grain.

They heard a commotion out in the hallway.

She raised the violin and reached for the bow.

Someone pounded on their door.

“Police!” someone shouted. “Open up!”

Pierre and Alice looked at each other in stunned silence.

“Break it down!” a voice shouted .

The door burst open and three uniformed policemen in flak jackets and riot gear rushed in. They all carried shotguns. The first thing they saw was a woman in the dim light holding what looked like a rifle to her shoulder. Shots rang out. Alice slumped in her chair, blood spurting from several wounds.

“No! No! No!” shouted Pierre as he jumped up and rushed at the intruders to stop them. All the officers saw was someone rushing at them. More shots rang out as they shot him, too.

“Damn!” a voice said as Detective Arugula pushed through the door. “Why’d you have to shoot them?”

“I thought she had a gun,” the policeman replied, “and then this guy rushed me. I had to defend myself.”

Arugula reached down and grabbed Pierre by the collar. “Where’s the dope, you scumbag?” he shouted, his face an inch from Pierre’s. “We know all about your operation. We’ve got eyewitnesses, willing to testify against you and we’ve had this building under surveillance for weeks.”

Pierre’s head rolled back. Tears rolled from his eyes. Blood gurgled from his throat. He realized that he had never actually met Detective Arugula. “I’m Pierre Valois. I’m the one who called you. Why have you done this?”

It was the last thing he ever said.

* * * *

Detective Arugula looked up at the door. It clearly said this was apartment 3-B.

Julio and Abdulla were racing down the hall to the stairs, leaving the door to apartment 3-E wide open.

“My God!” the detective declared. “What have we done.”

Sunday, March 15, 2009


Anthology features two stories from Alexis Anthony
The Jewel of Herculaneum - Alexis Anthony
A Jewel from the past comes to the present.
Lola - Alexi Anthony
A new twist to an old song.
Stone Cold Desire - Mark Alders
When true love is worth any price, even an eternity in stone.

Battle in the Bedchamber - Jojo Brown
Domination has purpose and winning this battle will leave a man dry.

A Living Forest - Paula Calloway
Immortality bargains with Death for love’s heart.

The Necklace - Kira Chase
Can a necklace change one's destiny? When Jordan finds a long lost necklace from her late grandmother, her life takes a new and unexpected turn.

Behind the Jade Tiger - Christie Gordon
What truth lies beneath a restless blanket of dreams?

Terra Form - Viola Grace
There is more than one way to give life.

Mystical Passions - Stephani Hecht
After a lifetime of being separated from her own kind, Korin encounters a handsome, mysterious male who holds the key to unlock her past and her passion.

Mystical Rapture - Stephani Hecht
Branded a traitor by elven brethren, Devin decided there is no such thing as a Happily Ever After, until he stumbles across a beautiful female who ignites an undeniable passion.

Phantom Persuasion - Celia Jade
Is there a connection between a string of mysterious letters in Brigit’s apartment and the sensual man paying her very erotic visits in her dreams?

The Pirate and the Mermaid - Marc Jarrod
The gift from the sea is more than what you see.

Banished - A.J. Llewellyn
Hawaiian kahuna Mahini is banished for violating huna law. Can he find a new life, even love on a remote volcanic island or only death?

Hula - A.J. Llewellyn
Is love really like a hula dance? Can Mingo McCloud win back his cheating lover Kaolin or have they made too many missteps?

Disciplining Baron - D.J. Manly
A little naughty is a lot of nice, but the question is just who is naughty and who is nice.

Green Eyes - D.J. Manly
The eyes tell all and then some because it’s all in the eyes.

A Stone’s Throw: Emma - C.R. Moss
Her friend gone, her grief strong, Emma enters a boutique to find comfort and gets a deal of a lifetime.

Perfect Vessel - Tierney O’Malley
Jade is at the end of her rope, but the only lifeline in sight is from Kyr, a handsome green alien offering a proposal so wicked and indecent it’s hard to ignore.

Clancy’s Irish Dream - Evelyn Star
Pistachio ice cream isn’t the only green thing in the freezer.

Department Nine - Jen Suits
Getting picked up can be a little more than expected.

Slave for Sex - Laura Tolomei
Rydan’s dead lover returns as a green faerie, seducing him into passionate sex and submission, but will he trust her enough to change his destiny?

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

COMMANDO - A Kelly Winchester Novel

COMMANDO by Alex. J. Alex

The world is at war. Kelly Winchester is a U.S. Navy fighter / bomber pilot who is recruited by an elite force that has been formed to take the war behind enemy lines. Kelly has been successful where others have not. She falls in love with the commander of the unit, Jim Bradock, a Navy Captain and they marry, but she decides to keep her name.

The two embark on a Commando operation together, but are separated, and Kelly has to make her own way to try to accomplish the mission and make a return to friendly territory. She heads west, across China and Mongolia with the intention of finding U.S. forces in Afghanistan.

Kelly steals a plane and gets to within 100 miles of the border, then she has to walk the rest of the way. Once in Afghanistan, she is captured by the Taliban and is about to be beheaded on television when her husband leads units of the First Cavalry to rescue her.



Kelly sat there for at least a half an hour, minding her own business. She was about to give up and leave, when a nicely dressed man with a little mustache came in and crossed the floor in her direction, looking straight at her. He moved stealthily, like a cat. He had black hair slicked back flat on his head. He was smoking a cigarette.

He sidled up to her, motioning to the bartender to bring him a drink and refill Kelly’s. He smiled at her as if she should know who he was. He seemed to expect Kelly to speak first. Instead she smirked at him and turned toward the bar. She lifted her half-empty drink to her lips, downed it, slammed the glass down on the bar upside down and said in a purposely bored sounding voice, “Gon bay.”

The bartender handed him a glass and he did the same thing. “Gon bay,” he said, slamming his glass down on the bar.

Kelly turned her head to face him. She removed her dark glasses and batted her eyes at him.
“Wu Tang?”

He looked at her with amusement. “Madam Chang?”

They both laughed.

“We’re supposed to know each other, aren’t we,” she said.

“I just know your name, and that you’re nice to look at.”

“I’ve heard that you’re pretty slick yourself.”

“I suppose you know who I am.”

“I do.” She smiled at him. “I’ll bet you want to know who I am.”

“I admit, right now, you are a mystery. I like mysterious women.”

“So I’ve heard.” She dipped the middle finger of her left hand into the drink the thoughtful bartender had just placed in front of her. She swirled it around, raised her finger to her lips and sucked it into her mouth, sucking it in and out. She closed her eyes and sensuously made love to her finger the way she would a man’s penis, faking a gentle orgasm.

Wu Tang sat there watching her, entranced. She was hardly doing anything, hardly moving, but it was like watching a porno movie. He reached out and placed his hand on her neck, kneading it gently. Kelly moaned softly in pleasure. His hand was warm and it did feel good.

She removed her finger from her mouth and swirled it around in her drink again. Kelly opened her eyes, turning to look at him. She raised her hand to his lips and slowly inserted her finger into his mouth. He was caught up in her sensual play. He sucked her finger into his mouth, savoring the alcohol and swirling his tongue around it. He closed his eyes. She slid her finger in and out, fucking his mouth with her finger.

She slowly pulled her finger back out of his mouth. He sat there with his eyes still closed for a moment. Kelly dipped her finger into her drink again and raised it to his lips again. She didn’t let him suck it into his mouth though, she made him lick the alcohol off of it.

He opened his eyes. He cleared his throat and unobtrusively shook his head as if emerging from a trance.

“Would you care to dance?”



Lieutenant Kelly Winchester is a pilot who is shot down over the jungle and captured. Held in a prisoner of war camp run by a sadistic maniac, she is eventually transferred to another prison where she is brainwashed and finally sold as a slave. Her strength will prevail...and her heroism. Her enemies may be sorry she survived...


She watched the last missile streak over the jungle and strike the target, obliterating it.

"Look out! Look out!" screamed the voice of POPEYE, her wingman through the headphones. The warning buzzer blared at her, alerting her to an enemy missile locked on to her aircraft.
"VIXEN, you've got a missile on your tail."

She wrenched the stick back and to the right. The plane responded nimbly and climbed up and to the right in a gut-wrenching 3 Gee maneuver.

Then the missile exploded. It didn't actually contact VIXEN's plane, but it was close enough, blowing the tail apart and sending the plane tumbling back down toward the jungle.

"Eject, VIXEN, eject!" yelled POPEYE.

Realizing that she only had moments to react, the pilot quickly punched the eject button. As the explosives beneath her seat exploded, the cockpit canopy flew off and the seat exited the aircraft. She hoped she wouldn't be killed by the tumbling aircraft before clearing the wreckage.

The wind almost knocked her unconscious as she was thrown clear. Then the parachute deployed, slowing her down. Suddenly it was very quiet. She looked down at the jungle. She watched as her plane crashed and exploded in a tangle of twisted metal.

She manipulated the controls of her chute, steering away from the target she had just demolished and toward a stream, just visible beneath the trees. She dropped toward the ground as quickly as she could. The sooner she got down and had a chance to hide, the more likely she could elude those on the ground and, hopefully, get picked up by a rescue helicopter.

She skillfully guided the chute between the trees and over the little stream. She swooped down over the rushing water. She lifted her legs and landed in the middle of the stream on her butt.
The water was warm like the humid air. She surfaced as quickly as she could in the rushing water and stabbed her feet into the mud. The water was only about four feet deep and she stood up, all five feet, eight inches.

She hurried to strip off the chute harness and gather it into a ball. She fought her way against the current to the shallows and up the bank to dry ground. She rolled the chute into a ball and pushed it into a hollow between the roots of a tree on the bank. She covered it with some leaves, a few twigs, and a strip of moss she stripped from the ground.

She heard a dog bark. She heard voices. Someone was coming, rather noisily, through the underbrush. She slipped back into the water and out into the current, lifting her legs and drifting downstream. She pushed herself ahead by stabbing at the mud on the bottom with her boots. For rescue, she needed to stay near the plane, but to elude pursuers, she needed to get moving.
She reached down to her thigh and retrieved the service pistol from its holster. She moved faster and faster as the current swept her along.

She couldn't hear the pursuers anymore, but as the current got swifter, the channel got shallower. When it got up to about two and a half feet, she stood up and waded to the bank opposite the side where she had heard the pursuers. She climbed up the bank and slipped into the dark forest. She shook the pistol to get rid of as much of the water as she could, then she pulled the slide back and chambered a round. She thumbed the safety off.

The underbrush made it difficult to move quickly, and she couldn't help leaving a trail. The flight suit hadn't kept her dry and it was soggy, slowing her down. The helmet on her head seemed heavier than it had in the cockpit. Every step she took seemed like it made too much noise. She kept listening for the sound of a pursuit, and eventually she heard it.

She looked around for a tree to climb and hide in, but there were none with branches low enough for her to reach. She hunkered down between some bushes at the edge of a small clearing and covered herself with some damp leaves.

It didn't take long. She watched as several men following her trail, entered the clearing. There were two young men, boys really, one old man, and a strong-looking man carrying an AK-47 who seemed to be in charge. It was obvious that the trail ended in the clearing. The men just couldn't tell where she was hiding.

They flailed around at the brush with sharp, wicked-looking machetes. As they came closer to her, she stood up and leveled the pistol at them. Her sudden appearance elicited an excited exchange in a language she could not understand, but they were all laughing at her.

She was suddenly hit from behind and thrown to the ground. Her attacker landed on her back as she fell face down in the mud. The pistol went flying as she had the wind knocked out of her. The attacker grabbed her arm and twisted it back into a hammerlock behind her back. She was yanked to her feet.

Another man, wearing a jungle uniform, came around from behind and stood nose to nose with her. He yelled at her incomprehensibly, his face thrust close to hers. He had bad breath. Then he yelled at her in English.

"Yankee pig!" He reached up and yanked off her helmet. As her blond hair shimmered around her shoulders, the startled man staggered back a step and the others fell silent.

"You're a woman!"

She smirked at him.

"Surprised?" she said softly.