Click on image to enlarge.

Category: Erotica/Erotic Fantasy/Fantasy
Description: A Sexy Saga of Sherwood Forest! From the author of The Erotic Adventures of King Arthur comes this story of Robin Hood as he really was. What's the point of being a rogue and an outlaw if you don't have any fun? Here is Robin Hood with a full quiver and he's ready for love. Why were the Merrymen so merry? You'll learn the reason. And you probably suspected it all along. The Erotic adventures of Robin Hood recounts the famous archer's tale without the prudish deletions the Victorians made. The balladeers knew Maid Marian was not Robin's only mate. This book discloses some of the others. For that matter the lovable, wine-guzzling Friar Tuck was hardly celibate. Even Richard the Lion Heart was famous for a few sexual quirks that he displayed in Sherwood Forest. If you love stories of Robin Hood--and who doesn't--you will love this merry, sassy, ribald behind-the-leaves story of Robin, Marion, and all the Merry Men.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler, 2005
eBookwise Release Date: October 2005

13 Reader Ratings:

Great	Good	OK	Poor

Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [149 KB]
Words: 34110
Reading time: 97-136 min.

Robin was a lusty youth, eighteen years old. He had discovered the glories of sex and reveled in them.

His girlfriend, Rosalind, was as enthusiastic in the erotic sport as Robin, and welcomed his advances when they were in the hayloft, in the forest, or, occasionally, when the coast was clear, in bed. She loved having his supple fingers, his flickering tongue, and his lively prick touch her on every accessible spot on her body. His fingers loved to caress her round, firm breasts. His tongue lapped up the honeyed mead that lurked between her thighs. And his cock's voyages up her love channel always delighted her.

Robin was delighted with his Rosalind. But, as much as he enjoyed their romps, he had one fault to find with her. She would not give him head.

Robin had been introduced to sex by an older girl who was a virtuoso on the skin flute. His first orgasm with another person was with that skillful young lady, and he truly wanted to experience fellatio with his Rosalind as well. He pleaded. He cajoled. He begged. He prayed. But Rosalind simply would not be moved. She had it in her mind that her mouth should remain virginal, and that was that.

But, in every other way, Rosalind was not only available but eager to give and take in the game of love. So Robin took her one failing philosophically and was not one to mope about.

Early in the merry month of May, when Robin and Rosalind were happily disporting themselves in the hayloft of her barn, the happy couple had idled away a few hours in their favorite pursuits and were resting contentedly in each other's arms.

"I heard that the Sheriff of Nottingham is sponsoring an archery match in Nottingham Town tomorrow," Robin mentioned.

"You're a good shot," Rosalind said, giving a double meaning to her words. "I've never known you to miss the target."

"And I love target practice," Robin answered. "And you give me plenty of opportunity."

They laughed at the weak joke they had exchanged.

"Can you guess what the prize is for the winner of the sheriff's meet?" Robin continued.

Rosalind could not guess.

"A butt of good October ale," Robin told her.

Rosalind had a thirst for good, humming ale. And of all ales, October brew was by far her favorite.

"Oh, Robin," she exclaimed. "Go enter the meet. Win the match and bring me back a butt of October ale."

Robin sniffed an opportunity. He really was an excellent archer. He had never lost a contest, and when he went hunting he always hit his mark. He thought that he might be able to parlay the gift of the ale into getting his girlfriend's lips around his member.

"Suppose I did go down to Nottingham Town," he said, thinking fast and craftily. "And suppose I won the butt and brought it back so you could wet your lips on your favorite brew. What's in it for me?"

"What do you mean, what's in it for you?" she replied saucily. "You'd get to show off how well you shoot, and you'd be pleasing me."

"What would you do to show your appreciation for the ale?" he prompted.

"For a butt of October Ale?" she asked. "Just about anything you want me to do."

"You know what I've wanted from you for a long time," Robin suggested.

"You mean, if you win the butt of ale and bring it to me, you'd want me...?"

"To suck me where I want to be sucked," Robin made clear.

Rosalind thought it over. She really would like to have a nice butt of October ale. And she wasn't sure why she had been resisting sucking her boyfriend's cock. It sounded like a fair exchange to her.

"Bring me the butt of ale," she said. "and I will pleasure that prick of yours with these ale drinking lips."

Robin felt so confident of his archery ability that he felt sure he would finally, the next evening, get fellated by his sweetheart. He was a happy young man indeed.

The next morning, bow in hand, loaded quiver over his shoulder, Robin set out from Locksley Hall for Nottingham Town through Sherwood Forest. He felt quite satisfied with himself. He had never been bested in an archery match and saw no reason why he should not be returning to Locksley with a butt of ale and the assurance of a long awaited blow job.

Along the way, he chanced upon a clearing. In that glade he saw fifteen foresters and ten young ladies. Five of the foresters were fully clothed in Lincoln green. But the other ten were naked as the beasts of the forest. And the ten maids ... not a stitch covering their fair bodies. In the midst of the cavorting party was a large keg of ale. And it was clear that the entire group had drawn generously from the keg because everyone was very merry indeed.

One of the foresters who was more rotund than the others was fully clothed and ogling the lusty pranks of the naked girls. He glanced away as he was lifting a horn of ale to his lips and spied Robin strolling down the path. Young Robin of Locksley Hall was known in the neighborhood, and the forester recognized him.

The forester was just drunk enough to think it would be great fun to bait the lad.

"What ho!" he shouted at Robin. "What is a youngster like you doing carrying a big bow like that? And with all those arrows in your quiver? I'll just bet you carry a tiny little shaft within your breeches, too."

Robin did not take any shit from anyone. He always gave as much as he received.

"You want to see my shaft?" he shouted back. "I'll flip it out and stick it up your ass, you fat bastard."

Just to show that he could handle bow and arrow with deftness, Robin drew an arrow out of his quiver, nocked it to his bowstring and surveyed the area. There was a herd of deer grazing at the far reaches of the glade with a noble buck standing at the fore.

"See that hart?" he challenged the forester. "Let's say that's your fat ass. Now, watch this arrow. It represents my own big shaft."

With that, he let fly the arrow which felled the hart clean.

"Let that be a warning to you, Shithead. Don't mess with Robin Hood."

"No one insults me, Master Hood," the drunken forester slurred. "I'll take care of you right here in the forest and no one will ever be the wiser. Say your prayers."

The forester stooped down to the ground and picked up his yew bow and a clothyard arrow. There was no question that he meant to shoot Robin. And none of the drunken group with him showed any intention of stopping him.

Robin was a hot-blooded lad and reacted to the threat instinctively. Before the forester could nock an arrow onto his bowstring, Robin, with lightning speed, had his own arrow tightly strung and aimed. With speed born of self-preservation Robin unloosed his arrow, and the arrow found its home in the rude forester's heart. The varlet fell to the glade's leafy floor quite dead.

The attending party sobered up fast. It had all occurred very quickly and they were struck dumb. They stared at their fallen companion then at the young man who had killed him. No one seemed to know what to do.

Robin was aware that he was outnumbered. But he was pretty sure that the people staring from him to his victim were not in any condition to pursue him if he moved right away. So he headed off the path and entered the forest wilderness. He circled around and headed back for Locksley Hall. It would be folly to continue on to Nottingham Town under the circumstances.

Meanwhile the four foresters who were clothed somberly dragged their dead friend to Nottingham Town to the sheriff's office. The members of the remaining group, all nude, shrugged their shoulders and dipped their drinking horns into the ale keg. There was nothing they could do about what they had just witnessed. So they returned to their partying.

As Robin wended his way homeward he was aware that his life had been radically changed by the two rash acts he had committed. He had killed a man. That carried a capital punishment. But, worse yet, he had poached one of the king's deer. That put a price on his head of two hundred pounds. Which meant bounty hunters would be out searching for him to drag him to justice. Two hundred pounds was a pretty slice of lucre. He would have to avoid and evade bounty hunters for the rest of his life.

He was now an outlaw and would henceforth have to seek refuge there within Sherwood Forest.

Robin sped back to Locksley Hall and found his faithful servant Pym. He explained to Pym what had happened. He gave his servant the chance to either remain on the estate and watch over things or follow his master into a life outside the law. Pym did not have to consider twice. He was loyal to his master and swore to follow him wherever the trail might lead.

Robin and Pym rounded up tools and clothing to take into the forest as a foundation for the outdoor life. They gathered a hatchet, an ax, a spade, a set of knives, jerkins, breeches of Lincoln green, and other necessities for living in the greenwood.

They had everything in readiness to depart for the forest. But Robin had another matter to attend to first. He took the lane to the manse where Rosalind lived. He whistled thrice outside her window. That was the signal he always used to let her know he would wait for her in the stables.

In minutes the lovers met in the loft of the stable, tumbling onto the fragrant hay.

While Pym waited patiently at a discreet distance from the stables guarding the bundles that they would carry into Sherwood's safety, Robin and Rosalind had to say goodbye in lusty style.

Robin explained to Rosalind what had happened to him in the forest glade.

"So, Dear, I have to leave you and go live an outlaw's life in the greenwood. Will you miss me?"

As he asked, his fingers were playing little games around her pert nipples and her moist cunt.

"I will miss you, Robin. I'll miss you a lot."

"How about giving me a special gift for me to remember you by?" he asked.

"You mean...?" she asked, knowing very well what he meant.

"I'd really like to have you give me that blow job you promised." he said.

"I don't see that butt of October ale anywhere," she kidded.

"You know I never got to Nottingham Town and the contest," he said, still hoping she was just joking about still expecting the goddam ale.

"No ale, no blowjob," she said firmly.

Robin realized that this was no time to quibble. Let her mouth and tongue remain virginal if that's what she insisted on. Her pussylips were contracting about his inserted finger. He thought this might be his last chance to get it on with anything other than his ready fist for many a month. So he pumped his seed into her waiting pussy, gave her a deep kiss, and bid her a fond adieu.

Satisfied he'd at least gotten laid before heading out into the wilderness, he rejoined Pym and the two of them faded into the depths of Sherwood Forest.