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Troll

Mythical Races Erotica

Kay Nyne

Copyright

Layout Copyright © 2018 by PMO Publishing. Published 2018 by PMO Publishing. Ebook design by PMO Publishing. Cover art by PMO Publishing. Contact: pmopublishing@gmail.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the authors permission.

Authors note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

Chapter 1

“The Barbary Ape or Barbary Macaque has been here on Gibraltar much longer than the British have.”

The dry old tour guide was clearly repeating a speech given countless times before, and her total lack of enthusiasm was blatantly obvious. “No-one knows when they were introduced or how. Some say they travelled here from North Africa with the Moors when they invaded, others say that the colony was founded by the escaped pets of sailors… and there are also fanciful theories of an undersea tunnel that links Gibraltar to Africa.” The guide shrugged, “Who knows for sure, maybe they really did walk here beneath the waves. The only thing that is known with any certainty is that there is no fossil record of this type of monkey living in Europe, so they must have come from Africa.”

“I thought these were apes not monkeys,” a small man with thick glasses interrupted, “Monkeys have tails, apes don't, and these don't have tails.” He looked smug, confident that he had tripped up the so called expert.

“The Barbary Macaques are a species of tailless monkey, and the name Barbary Ape is a complete misnomer,” the guide continued without even glancing toward the cocky inquisitor. “And now we come to legend. As you all know by now Gibraltar is a British Dependency… a little part of the British Isles down here at the very bottom of Europe. And the legend says that as long as the Macaques live here on the rock it will remain British. Quite silly you may think, but it is a superstition that caused Britain's wartime prime minister Sir Winston Churchill to insist that the colony be supplemented with wild caught Macaques from Morocco when the numbers here dropped down to around seven in total. Currently there are more than three hundred living wild here… Now, moving on.” and the jaded guide walked toward the entrance to a deep limestone cave without even looking back to check if her flock of tourists had followed.

***

Bored! Helen tugged her boyfriends sleeve as he followed the group deeper into the murky depths of the cave system.

“Dave, do we really have to do this?” she whispered.

“It's educational.” he replied.

“It's not,” she hissed, “It's bloody boring, and about as dry as the old biddy leading this stupid tour!”

Helen wasn't really an academic, not that she was stupid or dumb, she just wasn't turned on by history, or geology, or biology. She didn't care where the dirty monkeys had come from, she didn't care that they weren't apes… and she definitely didn't care that beneath the massive rock were so many tunnels that many had never been explored. She was hot, she was uncomfortable, she was thirsty… but more importantly she was horny, incredibly horny.

Maybe it was something to do with the climate or the air? But since she'd arrived on the rock five days earlier she'd been filled with a rampant lust that had both shocked and delighted long time boyfriend David.

“Insatiable!” he had said one night as he lay panting on the sweat soaked bed beside her.

“I don't know what that means,” she had giggled, “But I do know I need you to fuck me again, hard… Now!”

“It's a bit creepy down here.” she glanced around at the deep shadows, remembering what they had been told before entering the newly discovered and opened system of caves. Stick with the group they'd been warned, stay away from side tunnels… don't go wandering off on your own.

“Now Dave,” she whispered, then grabbed his hand and held him back as the group strolled deeper into the gloom. “I'm ready now!”

David gulped and looked around nervously, the light was low but certainly bright enough for it to be obvious what they were doing should he buckle to her demands. “What if someone comes back, what if another group comes through and catches us?”

Helen shivered and closed her eyes for a second, she could imagine worse things that could happen. But Dave's shy she told herself, it wouldn't have upset her if they were caught fucking but she knew her more reserved boyfriend would probably die of embarrassment.

“I didn't mean right here in the middle of the tunnel.” she giggled and tugged his hand again steering him toward a wide dark crack in the side wall.

“What did the guide say!” David bleated as he baulked at the threshold, “Don't go wandering off on your own.”


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