Kay Jaybee's Blog, page 74
July 29, 2014
Day 3 Two Weeks of Tasty Tasters: Quick Kink Two
We’ve reached Day 3 of my Two Weeks of Tasty Tasters series!
Yesterday I treated you to a story from Quick Kink One, so today it seems only sensible to carry on today with a tale from its sister volume, Quick Kink Two .
The whole point of both my Quick Kink volumes, was to provide two dozen different elements of eroticism in two separate helpings.
Yesterday I shared a nice vanilla story with you, so how about we up the pace with some good old KJB, BDSM today…
The Bride Wore Rubber
If I had been a newspaper journalist reporting on the wedding I would have used the headline, ‘The Bride Wore Rubber.’ Red rubber to be precise. Not in dress form, but sparingly, in the manner befitting the chief slave of an exclusive S&M club owner.
Thin straps of rubber circled her neck and supported a harness, which looped around her ample tits, pushing them up unnaturally high. Her flat stomach was bare, but her legs were tightly encased in rubber stockings, which moulded themselves perfectly to the contours of her body, outlining her firm thighs and slender calves. This skin-tight covering stopped short of her backside, revealing her round tanned arse and her smoothly shaved pussy in all their glory.
There was an elegant dignity about the girl. She was tall, slim, blonde and conventionally beautiful, but there was more to her than that. A quiet strength seemed to emanate from her, a strength that the addition of a red eye-mask, blinding her better than any bridal-veil, didn’t diminish. A leather lead was clipped to a matching choker which was, in turn, secured around her slender neck. The choker, in deference to the occasion, was studded with three small diamonds.
As the time for the ceremony drew near, I stood amongst the oddly semi-dressed assemblage of guests. They had broken into two clusters, one on each side of the club’s dancehall, leaving a makeshift aisle running down its centre.
At the end of this aisle, awaiting his slave-bride, stood Michael. I don’t know his surname, but I do know he is a very powerful man, with powerful friends, who like to play dangerous games. He gave off an air of quite arrogant control as he surveyed the scene before him. He, unlike his guests, was wearing full wedding regalia, a grey morning suit, cravat and top hat. Handsome in a rugby player kind of way, Michael stood head and shoulders above his best-man, whose chest was bare, and whose black leather trousers squeaked slightly as he paced up and down the aisle, waiting edgily for the procession to begin.
From my privileged place at the side of the crowd, I glanced towards the doors. The increased noise of activity coming from behind them indicated that the bridal party was almost ready. I looked towards the rather uncomfortable reverend, who was waiting for what, I’m sure he hoped, would be a swift service.
I tensed, as did every guest in the room, as Mendelssohn’s Wedding March struck up over the clubs sound system, and the hall doors swung open.
The immediate whoops and cat calls from the overheated guests showed their instant approval of the party’s attire.
Holding the bride’s lead was a large man, who like the groom, wore a morning suit. A whisper from the crowd informed me that he was the brides’ future brother-in-law, and instantly I could see the family likeness. The solid chin, the square frame to the body, the arrogant dark blue eyes.
The bride followed him, blindly, sedately, humbly, on all fours. She crawled along, her breasts swinging beneath her, her arse burning with sharp red wields, that had obviously been administered by a whip only moments before. In addition, the bride had received an extra facet to her outfit. A string of red Thai beads had been threaded into her anus. I could only imagine how she must feel, debased and humiliated before this mass of largely familiar faces.
Two bridesmaids completed the group. Both similarly bedecked in skimpy white rubber harnesses and leggings, their faces were solemn and bowed. These were Michael’s other two personal slaves. I wondered if they were jealous of their colleague’s status, or if they were relieved that it wasn’t them blinded and on all fours in front of the entire club membership.
As the bride reached the makeshift altar, the crowd bunched forward, each person eager to watch the ceremony at close quarters.
I slipped to the front of the room, manoeuvring my way to a space behind the vicar, where a hired, wide-eyed, camcorder operator already stood, his mouth open in disbelief.
On reaching her Master, the brides blindfold was eased up, and she kissed his shoes, as the lead was passed to the groom.
Michael looked down approvingly at his slave for a second, before allowing her to stand next to him. She rose with amazingly controlled poise, making sure the beads didn’t have a chance to escape from their intimate confinement, and therefore denying her intended the excuse to publicly punish her.
The vicar began the service, and with what seemed an alarming adherence to tradition in the circumstances, the wedding speeches and vows began, just as if we’d been stood in any church or registry office in the country. I listened intently over the background buzz of the guest’s subdued chatter. The bride’s name was Mary. I wondered if her husband would ever use it, or if she’d be called Slave for the rest of her life.
When it was time for the groom to pass his slave her wedding ring my stomach contracted as, rather than a ring, the best man passed the groom what looked like a silver staple gun, but what I soon discovered was actually a piercing device.
The expression on the bride’s face showed that she hadn’t expected that. I watched intently as the groom bent and sucked hard at Mary’s left nipple, pulling it with his teeth until it stood proud and firm. Then on a pre-arranged signal, one of the bridesmaids stepped forward and wiped a small cloth, presumably of antiseptic, over the extant nipple. Once that had been applied, Michael wasted no time before putting the gun in place, piercing and ringing his wife like a chattel.
The bride’s cries of pain as the gold band was permanently secured onto her were partially drowned out by the booming voice of the clergyman saying, ‘by the giving and receiving of this ring, I now pronounce you Man and Wife, Master and Slave.’
I scribbled frantically into my notebook, as, like every eye in the room, I observed the silent tear streaked face of the bride. She was turned slowly, so that the whole room could see her newly swollen tit with its golden accessory. The congregation cheered manically as the vicar raised his arms and cried, ‘You may now kiss the bride.’
Nodding his thanks to the vicar who hastily departed from the room, Michael turned his bride to face him, and lifting her bowed head to his, kissed her tenderly, so tenderly that I wondered whether there was a genuine feeling of love there. This thought only lasted for a second, as he roughly pushed Mary to her knees, making the bead tail clatter as it hit the floor.
Michael called in a voice of authority, ‘Ladies and Gentleman, the wedding party will adjourn to my private study, you guests may amuse yourself freely, and then, in one hour, dinner will be served.’
His last few words were almost buried beneath the violent eruption of noise from the dance floor, as an instant orgy exploded around me. It took only seconds for groups and couples of men and women, women and women, and men and men, to be pushed up against one another, mouths, tits, hands and cocks everywhere.
I however, had been instructed to follow the wedding party.
When I reached the large old fashioned style study, I was offered a leather chair in the corner of the room, alongside my still stunned filming partner. My breathing had become rather shallow, and I was all too aware that the events I’d witnessed had had a rather unprofessional effect on me. I attempted to compose myself, for I was sure that things were about to get worse.
****
If you would like to read the rest of Quick Kink Two, it is available from Xcite, Amazon, and all good e-retailers.
COMPETITION ALERT! At the end of the fortnight you’ll have a chance to win any of the stories featured you like in e-format! More news on Day 14!!
I’ll see you tomorrow with something a touch of erotic romance!
Happy reading
Kay xx
July 28, 2014
Day 2- Two Weeks of Tasty Tasters: Quick Kink One
It’s the second day of my Two Weeks of Tasty Tasters blog special!
Today I am featuring my first solo anthology – Quick Kink One
There are 12 stories in Quick Kink One- each very different from the next; some kinky vanilla, some S&M, BDSM, MMF, FF and so on. It is therefore impossible to provide you with an excerpt that sums up the style of the book.
So, I closed my eyes and randomly pointed at the contents page! Thus, today I have picked a sexy vanilla piece for your pleasure- Hope you like it!
The Bookshop
Over the past few months she’d brought far more books than she could possibly have had time to read in that period. She knew it and so did he.
The looks they half gave each other, half gave the deserted bookshop in general, spoke volumes. For exactly thirty-two weeks the frisson between them had grown with each of her visits. Yet he’d never left the safety of the shop counter and they’d never exchanged a word. Not even a ‘thank you’, or a ‘goodbye’ on the completion of a sales transaction.
As soon as she pushed the stiff door open that summer morning she felt a change in the stuffy bookish air. It was as though the game they’d been privately playing was ending. It was time for the finale.
She experienced a brief stab of regret. This silent flirting had become so much part of her days, her nightly dreams and consequent quiet satisfaction. The thought of it not being there anymore felt like an immediate bereavement, and yet she knew, as she watched the tall bookseller come, unprecedented, out from behind his counter, that the moment her body had longed for had finally arrived.
She looked at him, desire silently welling up within her, realising she’d only ever seen him from the waist up before. Taller than she’d imagined, his dick was obviously and unashamedly straining beneath his grey combat trousers.
Her own crotch twitched against her silk panties as the blatant lust of his gaze focused on her chest, forcing her nipples to stand to attention, and her breasts to fill her bra until it felt unbearably tight.
The bookseller gestured towards the far corner of the shop, before walking there himself. With only a brief uncertain glance towards the unlocked door, she followed. The quiet of the travel section provided a modicum of privacy from the shop’s entrance, as he pushed her firmly but gently back against the black shelves, and trailed a single finger over her cotton shirt. She stared into his brown eyes, her arms limp at her sides, not quite sure if she was allowed to touch him in return.
One by one he undid her shirt buttons until it hung open. Then, with an urgent tug, he pulled her bra beneath her tits. She moaned softly as he stooped down, enclosing his warm mouth around a nipple. More certain now, her hands moved through his short rough brown hair.
His tongue began to lap at her tits, harder and harder, first the right and then the left. She dug her fingernails deep into his shoulders as he sent her into a silent orgasm, enflaming her whole body and soaking her knickers.
As her shivers subsided he stood, his eyes boring into hers. Understanding what he wanted, she fell quickly to her knees, forever mindful that a customer catch them at any moment. Deftly, she undid his flies and sprang his cock free. Its hard thick length felt warm and firm in her mouth as she gobbled and licked at his taught ribbed skin.
His breathing became faster, but rather than thrust his groin closer to her face he pulled away. This withdrawal only caused her a moment’s confusion as he produced a condom from a shirt pocket and hastily applied it along his shaft.
Without waiting for his assistance, she yanked her own black panties to the floor, before allowing him to hoist her up. Wrapping her long thin legs around his waist, she murmured thankfully as he impaled her, pushing her roughly against the International Travel Books, which she hardly noticed, despite their spines digging into her back.
Rucking up his shirt, her hands held his smooth back tightly as he rutted into her, grunting out his creamy load.
He caught his breath for a second, before lowering her onto the dusty frayed green carpet and, pushing her legs wide apart, knelt to lick out her wet pussy, causing her to spasm once more against his greedy tongue.
As her sighs of pleasure grew quieter, he left her. She sat up, caught between shock at her night-time dreams coming true, and wonderful bodily satisfaction. Adjusting her clothing she returned to the counter.
He stood as always, a seductive smile across his lightly freckled face. He said nothing, but he did point. Point to something she’d never noticed before. It was a security camera, and it was focused right on the hidden travel section.
As she walked home she imagined him replaying their instant of passion over and over again. The thought re-inflamed her body, and in that moment she knew she’d been quite wrong. The fantasy wasn’t over. It was only just beginning.
****
Quick Kink One is available from Xcite, Amazon, and all good e-book retailers.
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COMPETITION ALERT! At the end of the fortnight you’ll have a chance to win any of the stories featured you like in e-format! More news on Day 14!!
Don’t forget to pop back tomorrow to take a peep at Day 3′s free read!
Happy reading,
Kay xx
July 27, 2014
Day 1- Two Weeks of Tasty Tasters: The Collector
WELCOME!!!!!It’s Day One of my Two Weeks of Tasty Tasters- my annual dive into my own story archive!
Each day, for the next fourteen days, I will be posting an excerpt from one of my erotica publications- and I promise each one will be hot!
COMPETITION ALERT! At the end of the fortnight you’ll have a chance to win any of the stories featured you like in e-format! More news on Day 14!!
I’m kicking off this fortnight of flashbacks by sharing a short story from my very first solo paperback with you.
The Collector (Austin & Macauley, 2008) is a linked-anthology. It’s the story of a young woman on a mission to gather as many erotic stories as possible. Either by eaves-dropping, asking outright for, advertising for, or even indulging in some direct research herself, the collector assembles and documents some hot tales…
Some of the stories are long, some are very short, some romantic, and some pure BDSM. The Collector records straight, gay, lesbian, threesome, and solo adventures- all of which are very kinky!
Let’s have a bit of threesome action to launch this two week blog special!
Break Time
The temperature dropped as the door closed behind them. He hesitated for a moment before following them further into the club’s store. Seconds later he was being pulled across the dark room onto a huge pile of empty cardboard boxes which lay discarded in the far corner. He could feel his cock stirring beneath his jeans. So far they had not spoken. They hadn’t needed to.
The blonde was laughing. Her eyes laughed first, just ahead of her lips, which were moist with anticipation. The boxes crunched slightly as they were squashed beneath their combined weight. The thumping of the dance floor, only a corridor away, was almost drowned out by the ticking of the storeroom clock.
The girls, still anonymous, looked at each other, and with an unspoken signal they acted. Pulling off their t-shirts they revealed two sets of perfect tits. The red head’s rich mouth was nuzzling at her partners nipples before their guest had time to react to the wonderful, unbelievable, sight. Then she turned the blonde towards him. ‘She’s yours for the taking’ she smiled teasingly, ‘if you want her? You’ll have to decide quickly though, we only have a half hour break.’
He’d seen them watching him from the other side of the bar as they served his fellow clubbers. When they approached him, each taking a hand and guiding his slim frame towards what they called “a safe place,” he couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t sure whether he should resist or not, so he thought he’d see what happened next. Anyway, his mates were watching.
Somehow he couldn’t move. His brain was screaming at his body to work. To grab her, lick her neat breasts, and release her hips from her short black skirt, but he simply stood there, mesmerised.
The red head shrugged and, moving behind her friend, grasped her nipples between bronzed fingers. As her taught skin was expertly rubbed, the blonde’s head fell back onto her comrade’s shoulders, her eyes closed in pleasure.
‘She loves this. Why don’t you try it?’ Still he couldn’t move, but his eyes never left them. The red head, who was obviously relishing her currant dominance, started to kiss the blonde. Big, deep, probing kisses; first on the mouth, then down her neck, whilst her finger tips continued to brush the almond nipples.
It was the blonde’s yell that woke him up. As she came there, right in front of him, under the careful ministrations of another girl, he realised that this wasn’t just another fantasy. This was everything he wanted. It was real.
As if sensing that he’d come to a positive decision, the red head pulled a condom out of her mini-skirts pocket and threw it at him. He inclined his head, and posted it into his jeans pocket.
The blonde almost sagged with relief as he tore off his shirt, closely followed by her skirt. He pushed her back into the red head’s arms, spread her knicker free legs, and greedily lapped up the juice which ran down the inside of her thighs. Her arms reached up, and her fingers dug into his short dark hair to steady herself. His dick ached, but he wasn’t ready to take his jeans off. He couldn’t be sure how much control he’d have without there restraining presence.
Glancing up from his intense work around her clit, he could see she was very close, but he didn’t want to be the one to trigger her second orgasm. He was in charge now, and he wanted to watch.
The red head staggered a little as he pulled her roughly towards him, ‘Finish her off,’ he ordered.
‘Certainly sir.’ She spoke with mock gravity, and knelt down, sliding two perfectly manicured fingers inside her friends soaking snatch. He watched as the fingers moved slowly, rhythmically in and out, making tiny slurping noises in time to the clock. He stepped forward and began to kiss the red head on the neck, her face and her stomach. He circled all around her chest without actually touching it, planting the lightest of touches on her belly and her arms, forcing a groan from her confident mouth. He knew the need for attention in her breast must be almost unbearable. Would she beg? No; too proud. He suspected that right now she would like to though.
The tension was cut abruptly as the blonde cried out once more, her body shivering in satisfaction. The red head pulled away from him and stuffed an aching tit into her friends mouth, who instantly obliged by flicking a skilful her tongue over the neglected nipple. Red’s murmur of relief became a sigh of pleasure when he thrust his hard cock between her pink lips.
He had dreamt about this sort of thing, but the reality of the situation was almost too much. The girls so busy together, combined with the tongue expertly, divinely, licking at his tip, was driving him to distraction. He withdrew hastily and took a deep breath, gathering himself.
The clock ticked. The red head was whimpering for more attention. He glanced at the cardboard bed beneath him; it was more or less squashed flat now. Time must be short and he was desperate to be inside one of them. He didn’t care which one.
Ripping the condom out of its packaging and rolling it into place, he lay on his back, his discomfort soon forgotten as his shaft was quickly swallowed up as the blonde sat astride him. The delicious sensations that coursed through him doubled as the red head lowered herself onto his face, offering her pussy to his open mouth.
Again his mind was full of the image they must be presenting. The stifled mews and groans from above told him that the girls were kissing each other as one pumped against his cock, and one rocked against his tongue. He held red’s thighs tightly, feeling the pleasing weight mould into him. Perhaps their hands were busy working on each others tits. He was sure they would be.
It was a thought too far, and suddenly he pushed the red head away, crying out his relief as he shot his load into the blonde above him. As he moved away, panting hard, the girls wasted no time in fingering themselves to their own climax, giving him one last memorable spectacle.
Tick. The girls were bar staff again. Collecting their clothes from the jumble of cardboard, they hastened towards the door. Turning to him for a final look, he blew them a kiss, admiring their calm but rather crumpled appearance. Tomorrow he would have to pinch himself. Had that really just happened?
The backs of his long legs ached where they had been rubbed against the uneven surface, and they were already bruising. It had happened, and he was about to develop the marks to prove it.
***
If you fancy reading the rest of The Collector, you can find it in paperback or e-book from Amazon, and all good book sellers.
***
I hope you enjoyed that!!
Don’t forget to come back tomorrow for another tasty taster from the KJB archive.
Happy reading,
Kay xx
July 26, 2014
Starting to Collect: Getting Set for Two Weeks of Tasty Tasters
This coming Monday (28th July) sees the beginning of this years Two Weeks of Tasty Tasters- my annual look back through my erotica archive. Everyday for two weeks I’ll be sharing a delicious extract from fourteen of my kinkiest books.
In September this year, I’ll be marking the 10th anniversary of my first erotica publication, and today I thought it was high time I started to sort through the huge pile of notebooks and files that I’ve accumulated since I began- and look what I found!!
This notebook belongs to the collector- let me explain…
Once upon I time I was a fledging writer. I’d had one short story published by Cleis Press, and one poem and several stories taken by the much missed Oysters and Chocolate.com. I had finally discovered something I loved to do- something that would fit easily into my family life- but could I do it? Could I go that one step further and write a complete book?
Anyway- the date was 5th March 2006 and I was sat in Heathrow airport waiting for a flight to Scotland, when one of my dearest friends phoned me up. He didn’t say that much- just, ‘Go and buy a copy of The Observer- read the magazine. You could be one of those women. You could even do better.’ Then he was gone.
I rarely buy newspapers, but I did what he said- I discarded the newspaper and opened up the magazine- this very magazine-
- and I read an article all about the rise of British women writing erotica… I sometimes wonder, if my friend hadn’t got me to read that article, would I have kept going with the erotica, or would I simply have got a proper job, and kept writing as an occasional hobby…
However, having read the article, I sat and thought for a while as I watched all the people dashing by. Then suddenly I had an idea, I knew I wasn’t ready to write a novel. I wasn’t confident enough in my work, nor was I yet good enough to sustain a longer storyline. But everyone hasd a story to tell, everyone around me, everyone everywhere…so I started to collect them. To listen, to interpret other peoples most secret tales and fantasies…The first of which you can see drafted in the notebook above.
Those tales in that notebook became The Collector- a linked anthology of kinky confessions and dreams t- my first ever solo publication.
On Monday The Collector will be the featured book on the first day of my Tasty Tasters fortnight…I hope you’ll come along and join in the fun, and help me celebrate the book that was, to my amazement and delight, popular enough to keep me writing.
If you’d like to buy The Collector- you can find it as an e-book or paperback at -
Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Collector-Kay-Jaybee/dp/1849633517/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1352239556&sr=1-1
Happy reading,
Kay xx
July 23, 2014
Let’s Meet Knight and Trask: Guest Post with Toni Sands
Today I’m very pleased to welcome the lovely Toni Sands, and her brand new secret agents!
Over to you Toni…
Thank you so much for inviting me to be your guest, Kay Jaybee. Two very important characters are elbowing me out of the way here! One is Trask. The other is Katie Knight and they’re the secret agents featuring in my latest Xcite Books novella, Knight and Trask: Secrets and Spies.
The action takes place in the late 1990s and I thought it’d be fun to chat to my heroine and my hero as a way of introducing them to you.
Toni: Katie, just how sexy is Trask?
Knight: He’s premier league eye candy. His walk’s kind of feline. His cologne pushes all the right buttons. I wanted him from the moment I set eyes on him.
Toni: Would he have bedded you so quickly if he hadn’t save your life?
Knight: It wasn’t a mercy fuck!
Toni: Sorry, Katie. I could feel the sparks flying between you as I wrote the first scenes. But you both broke company rules about secret agents not having intimate relationships.
Knight: Wouldn’t you have?
Toni: Well, yes. If I don’t fancy my hero, how can I expect anyone else to?
Knight: I don’t believe in playing hard to get when an attraction’s as strong as it is between Trask and me.
I think we get the picture. Let’s ask Trask how he juggles the two very important women he has to deal with in his working life
Toni: Would you describe yourself as a ladies’ man, Trask?
Trask: Affirmative.
Toni: Is your particular charm natural or cultivated in the cause of Queen and country?
Trask: I like to think you reveal the ‘real me’ within your book.
Toni: Why, thank you, Trask. You played Katie along in the early part of the story? Was that fun?
Trask: Definitely. We both knew what was going to happen.
Toni: How difficult was it, watching her coming on to not just one but two powerful men?
Trask: My professionalism helped me cope. Inside, I was almost at meltdown point but don’t tell Cordelia.
Toni: You’re obviously the boss lady’s blue-eyed boy. We know she’s gay but you’re almost flirtatious with her.
Trask: That’s not difficult. She’s a beautiful woman. Need I say more?
Toni: So, if I write a sequel, would Trask do what James Bond did when he won the heart of Pussy Galore in Goldfinger?
Trask: No comment.
****
Excerpt:
Katie used the orchid hand wash provided and rinsed away the bubbles as a toilet flushed. A darkly glamorous woman, dressed in a clinging scarlet sheath dress, emerged from the cubicle and swooped on her, grabbing the bag Katie had lodged beneath arm and hip, enabling her to wash her hands.
Katie didn’t stop to think. Her training did that for her. One arm shot out, stunning the woman. Grabbing her with dripping hands, Katie held her in a grip so vicelike her attacker could only flop, a rag doll.
‘Who. Are. You?’ Knight hissed, not relaxing her hold.
Silence.
‘If that’s the way you want it, let’s reward you with a little more peace and quiet, shall we?’
In moments, the woman laid on the floor, gasping for breath, Katie kneeing her in the chest and reaching for her bag. She opened it, scrabbling inside until her grasping fingers found a small hypodermic. One swift sting in the back of her captive’s hand and the woman’s eyelids fluttered and closed. Not knowing whether her assailant was spy or common thief, Katie dragged her to the cubicle nearest the entranceway and shielded the two of them behind the door, in the nick of time as two laughing women entered the washroom. She waited to hear the slam of cubicle doors before dragging the unconscious woman towards the service room. Once inside she bundled her into a broom cupboard. When Miss Scarlet awoke in approximately15 minutes, she’d find herself in the tender care of Her Majesty’s Secret Service.
Before she alerted her silent listener at base, Katie tutted, noticing her hem caught up in one place. Gently she smoothed the delicate beaded fronds back into position and took out an atomiser, spraying a little perfume in the air and letting it settle around her. She breathed in the rose carnation scent. Time to get back.
Before making her way to Javier’s table, she spoke just loudly enough to be heard by whoever listened in. ‘Better have someone check the broom cupboard in the washroom. I’m back to the cliff face.’
Katie stepped out of the ladies’ room, straight into the arms of two towering security guards. One of them pressed something rigid against her back.
‘Are you going to shoot me or are you just pleased to see me?
‘Shut the fuck up,’ the bigger brute hissed in her ear. ‘You’re coming for a little walk with us, Lady Portia.’
‘Try not to drag your knuckles,’ she hissed back. As if the idiots would shoot her here, so close to the restaurant and foyer. But she wouldn’t make a fuss. Hopefully the Boss Lady would soon be notified of this latest development.
Blurb:
Set in the 1990s, this is a swift-moving sexy story of two spies who dare to break the rules and risk disgrace, all for the sake of love.
Buy Links:
Author Bio and Links:
Toni Sands lives in Wales and writes as much as she can when she’s not watching tennis, walking by the river or cooking. She writes erotic romance for Xcite Books.
You can find her on Facebook http://tiny.cc/7lcfix
Her Amazon author page link is http://tiny.cc/8jcfix
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Many thanks to Toni for visiting today as part of your blog tour.
Happy reading,
Kay xx
Guest Blog: Sara Brookes is Riding Irish
I’m delighted to welcome Sara Brookes here today- and she’s Riding Irish!
Over to you Sara…
One of the best things about writing Riding Irish was a lot of the places mentioned in the book are real. While I say not a lot of real life goes into my books, that detail only pertains to people and situations. Places are free game.
While Avery’s home if fictitious, the beach—Wallace Beach—is an actual place. For their first real date, they visit a food truck across the street from Pūpūkea Beach. I haven’t been to that beach in some time, but last time I was, that food truck was still there.
Of course, I never had the kind of view Avery gets while she’s there…
Excerpt:
Avery was already comfortably seated at a table at the grill when Kane pulled into the small parking lot. He manoeuvred his Triumph around a row of cars, using his feet to push backward into a narrow space between a car and the food truck.
She watched him tug on the chin strap, pull off his helmet, and run his hand over his dark hair. When he stood and swung his leg over the seat, turning to drop the helmet in one of the saddlebags, it gave her a perfect view of his impeccable ass. Muscular legs encased in a pair of jeans, the leather of his chaps flawlessly outlining his body.
Safety had never looked so damn sexy.
He shoved his sunglasses back on, tugging his faded black shirt—which appeared to be straining at the seams—out of the waistband. The broad expanse of his back and shoulders were revealed as he removed the shirt, rolling it up before stowing it away.
He stood there for a moment, wearing only his jeans and chaps, looking like some kind of bad-boy god who’d been allowed to visit mere mortals for the day. No doubt he was oblivious to the raw, feral sexuality he radiated standing there. There was an intensity about him she didn’t think he realized he even possessed—much less understood.
Avery noticed a few women at the truck openly staring at him as he reached over and snagged a new shirt. The position pulled his well-worn jeans over his butt, stretching the fabric taut.
She wasn’t possessive enough to get offended by their stares. In fact, she was flattered. She knew he was fine-looking man who deserved to be appreciated. And that she would get to appreciate him in her own way, his body free from the confines of pesky clothing.
No use getting upset about having to share the view.
Blurb:
Mayhem is a way of life for Avery. The last thing she needs is a complication like Kane. The medal-winning swimmer who comes to her rescue is the ultimate golden boy. Everything this woman from the wrong side of the tracks shouldn’t want and everything she can’t stop thinking about. But emotion—and vulnerability—are liabilities she can’t afford.
Kane can’t understand why he experiences such dark, forbidden and kinky desires when he is around Avery. But her touch sparks a hunger deep inside him, and unleashes an erotic discovery where pain becomes pleasure. Their uninhibited passion reveals Kane’s dominant nature.
As Avery submits to Kane, exploring boundaries and pushing limits, she discovers a life she never expected. The unlikely pair forge a bond so tight, their unyielding trust gives way to a love like no other. But Avery’s brothers—members of Oahu’s most notorious motorcycle club—have other plans. Now Avery is forced to make a decision where her loyalty resides—with her family or with a lover who brings peace to the chaos surrounding her.
Warning: Ignition point hits hard and fast for this Dom and sub as an Irishman discovers his delightful talent for breath control, spankings and clothespins. You may just want laundry day to come more often.
Buy Links:
Loose Id: http://www.loose-id.com/riding-irish.html
All Romance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ridingirish-1532504-147.html?referrer=6bdb1f9160564c0525b41f36e51861a0
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/riding-irish-sara-brookes/1119683800?ean=9781623001544
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/riding-irish
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Author Bio:
Sara Brookes is an award-winning author who has always been fascinated by the strange, the unusual, the twisted and the lost (tortured heroes are her personal favorite). She is an action movie junkie, addicted to coffee and has been known to stay up until the wee hours of the morning playing RPG video games. Despite all this, she is a romantic at heart and is always a sucker for an excellent love story. Born and bred in Virginia, Sara still lives there with her husband and daughter.
Author Links:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Sara_Brookes
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/brookesofbooks
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/authorsarabrookes
New Release Announcement List: http://eepurl.com/mbG31
Giveaway:
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Many thanks for coming by today Sara,
Happy Reading Everyone,
Kay xx
July 20, 2014
Tied to the Kitchen Sink: Loving Erotic Short Stories
As much as I love writing novels, the erotic short story will always have a corner of my heart. I just adore creating tales that have immediate impact on the reader (at least, I hope they do!).
Whenever I write a short tale, my aim is to hook the reader by the end of the second paragraph; to make them want to know what is going to happen next, or at least to be curious enough to wonder what the hell is going on! It is this aim, that makes the first few paragraphs the hardest to write, and it isn’t unusual for me to actually pen the introductory sentences after the rest of the tale is complete.
The three BDSM stories within Tied to the Kitchen Sink are all examples of this ‘writing the beginning at the end’ technique.
BLURB- Will can hardly believe his eyes when he receives the ultimate in birthday gifts. Karen, the girl of his fantasies, has been left tied to his kitchen sinks’ taps, ready to be played with exactly as he chooses. Meanwhile, Becky is having a spank filled first day in her new job, and a BDSM curious male allows himself to be lured into a dominatrix’s layer, by the tempting lyrics of a truly bad poem. Whether bound in ropes or handcuffs, as they are shackled to the bed, kitchen sink, or within the confines of a fetishists supply cupboard, the willing victims of Tied to the Kitchen Sinks’ kinky S&M and BDSM action, find their darkest and sexiest dreams coming true.
For me, a short erotic story has to be believable enough for the reader to be able to imagine themselves in the scenario described, but also stretch reality enough to make the words wrap around the reader in a fantasy of erotic dreams. Of course, everyone’s idea of a sexual fantasy is vastly different from the next- but if you like your kink to be a little on the “OUCH and OOOHHH, Master, Mistress and Submissive” side, then this anthology could well be the one for you!
****
Here’s the beginning of Tied to the Kitchen Sink to whet your appetite,
‘Hi, you must be Will; Happy Birthday.’ The girl smiled a dazzlingly set of white teeth in his direction, as she turned her head away from the washing up.
Will stopped dead. He had gone through Ben’s back door into the kitchen, expecting it to be deserted as usual; but it wasn’t.
It wasn’t her smile that caused Will’s feet to feel as if they’d become super glued to the floor, and his trousers to tighten. It was the fact that she was stood there, smiling at him in long black high heeled boots, and absolutely nothing else.
‘You look pale honey,’ the girl’s eyes twinkled, ‘why don’t you have a little sit down over there’, she pointed to an armchair in the corner of the room. ‘I can’t join you I’m afraid’, she raised her hands, revealing long thin silver chains attaching her to the taps. ‘I’m tied to the kitchen sink at the moment.’ As she laughed, the dark pig tails which hung down her back quivered against her bare flesh.
‘Um, well, I…’ Will stumbled over his words as his eyes scanned every inch of her. ‘Where’s…?’
‘Ben?’ she finished for him. ‘At the pub. He thought you would enjoy your birthday present more if he wasn’t here. I’m Karen.’
‘Karen?’
‘Are you okay? Ben seemed to think that I was exactly what you wanted for your 21st. If not, perhaps you could unlock me.’ She indicated a small pile of keys on the table, conveniently placed next to a pack of three. ‘Ben said that you fantasised about finding a woman tied to the sink.’ She looked up though her fringe with mock shyness.
Will was torn between simply walking out, untying the girl or…who was he kidding? His head swam with erotic images. She was real. He’d already pinched himself and this was not a dream. His dick stirred as he stared at her.
Tall and slim, her tanned skin shone against the dull kitchen units. Will focused on the soft flesh that appeared out of the top of her killer boots. He could almost taste her already.
‘Who are you?’ Will took a deep breath and walked towards the sink. ‘Why the hell not?’ he thought ‘It is my birthday.’
‘I told you, I’m Karen.’ She sighed as he trailed a finger around her neck. His hard, denim encased, cock rubbed against her arse as he stood beside her. ‘A friend of Bens. You thought I was a hooker?’
‘Well I…’
‘You aren’t the only one with fantasies you know.’ She stroked his cheek with her polished silver nails. ‘I’ve seen your picture on his mobile.’ She turned as much as her tethers would allow and ran wet hands over his thin shirt. ‘Now, I think that’s enough questions. What would you like to do for your birthday?’
She looked at him beseechingly. ‘Are you going to leave me tied here to do all this awful washing up Sir? Or are you going to let me have a little lie down on that nice table? Or maybe a rest in that armchair?
Will smiled; so, Ben had explained his fantasy to her. He was in charge. He stripped off his damp shirt and stood next to her in just his jeans. ‘I think you should stay exactly where you are until all that work is done don’t you?’
‘Oh Sir, but I am in so much need here, and the water is making my skin all dry.’ Karen looked up at him though her eye lashes.
‘It’s like acting out a bad porn movie.’ Will thought. ‘Fantastic’…
****
If you’d like to read on, you can buy Tied to the Kitchen Sink at All Romance, Amazon UK, Amazon.com, and all good e-retailers.
Happy reading!
Kay xx
July 13, 2014
Happy Birthday Blog!
I’m getting to the age where I’m beginning to wonder if I should even mention my birthday! On the other hand- I’m a sucker for balloons, ice-cream, and the excuse to eat rather more cake than usual! So bring it on!!
This year I’m celebrating with my lovely family, and a walk over beautiful Dartmoor. This is a place that inspires me the second I catch glimpse of it, on each and every visit.
For years I’ve intended to write a story based on the moors of Devon, and yet somehow time, and other work commitments, haves never allowed it. This year though, it has to happen- even if it’s only a short tale…ummmm…I can feel the ideas brewing…
And talking of brewing- let’s all settle back with a cuppa-(coffee for me please)- and a nice big slice of birthday cake, and contemplate the meaning of life, the universe and everything- apparently now I’m this particular age I should know the answer…
No? Okay- let’s read this instead- one of my favourite of all the short stories I’ve written (and researched)…enjoy!
(Yes- it is a courier story- you’d already guessed that hadn’t you!)
Cardboard (copyright Kay Jaybee)
Waiting outside the courier depot, Pia watched the last two vans come in from their rounds, the drivers eagerly leaping from their vehicles’ and heading to reception. Automatically a blush started to spread across her cheeks as she wondered if they were as infused with the same mildly musty cardboard odour as Owen. Shaking herself to distract the erotic tableau that had appeared in her head, Pia fidgeted her feet against the pavement.
Where the hell had Owen got to? She could see his van, so he was definitely back from his round. Flicking a stray red hair up and under her green velvet cap, Pia checked her wristwatch. It was six forty-five; he was twenty minutes late. Heaving herself away from the wall against which she’d been propped, Pia walked towards the depot.
‘Can I help?’ An austere looking woman behind the reception desk was buttoning up her overcoat,
Pia smiled politely, ‘I’m waiting for Owen Richards.’
‘Ah yes, he said he was expecting someone. He’s in the staff room I think.’ Then, with a swift point of her finger towards the dirty double doors to Pia’s left, the woman disappeared into the grey evening.
Taking off her hat, and shaking out her wavy red hair, Pia hesitated. She’d never been inside the depot before, but as Owen had obviously left a message for her, she supposed it was alright to be there.
Pia gingerly eased open one half of the double doors. The tang of cardboard, paper and dust hit her senses with a wallop, causing her body to instantly react. The whole place smelt as delicious as Owen did after a day on the van. It was as if the scent of the materials he worked with day after day had become ingrained in the pores of his skin. Telling herself that soon she and Owen would be home, and she could work off the lust that was tingling through her veins, Pia walked into the staff room
The silence was vaguely eerie. Battered armchairs edged the room, and an overloaded coffee table was strewn with back copies of lad’s magazines and unwashed coffee mugs. Yet there wasn’t a driver in sight.
Deciding to return to Reception, Pia’s hand was on the front door when she became aware of a presence behind her. She swung around and drew a sigh of relief when she saw Owen, ‘Hell, you gave me a fright.’
‘Sorry babe.’
‘Where’ve you been?’
‘I had a few things to sort out. My mobile had no signal, so I left a message for you; I take it you got it?’
‘The receptionist told me to wait in the staff room, but there was no one about so…’
‘…you thought you’d run away?’
Despite his twinkling brown eyes and lopsided smile, there was something about the tone of his voice made Pia uneasy.
‘Not run away exactly, but I didn’t want to hang around in there on my own.’
Owen took hold of Pia’s hand, ‘We’re rather short handed at the moment, so I have a few more things to do.’ He ran a hand through her hair, ‘why don’t you come with me?’
Pia allowed him to lead her back through the double doors, through the still empty staff room and on into the storeroom. The moment the door opened Pia drew in a sharp breath.
‘Well?’ Owen appeared unsure, and yet his eyes gleamed as he gripped his lover’s hand tighter.
The store was cool, square, and dimly lit, and even the dusty air seemed to have its own residual echo. Easing her hand from Owens, Pia surveyed the deserted room.
The walls had rows of flat packed cardboard boxes lined up all around them. Piles of plastic bags emblazoned with the company logo sat stacked in one corner, and three industrial sized dispensers of parcel tape lay abandoned next to them. On the floor, a heavy layer of grime clung possessively to the surface, except for where someone had laid out a rectangle of squashed down boxes, more or less in the size and shape of a king-sized bed.
Swallowing some moisture back into her throat Pia whispered, ‘Is this what you’ve been sorting out?’
His reply of ‘yes’ was barely audible as he waited for her reaction.
‘So where is everybody?’
‘It’s Saturday evening babe. Next shift doesn’t start until six tomorrow.’
Even though the room was cold, Pia felt hot and uncomfortable in her coat and scarf. Unable to drag her gaze from the bed of cardboard, she said, ‘I didn’t think you’d heard me when I told you, you never said anything about my fantasy afterwards.’
‘I heard most of it.’
As Owen’s hands reached around her and started to undo the buttons of Pia’s coat, her mind surged; how much had he heard?
Pia’s eyes moved to the doors, ‘But we can’t! The door is unlocked, anyone could walk in.’
Owen produced a bunch of keys from his pocket, ‘I’ll lock the main door.’
Pia’s pulse rate tweaked up a notch. Could they really do this? The smell of cardboard and the closeness of Owen, not to mention the wrongness of even being there, sent quivers of erotic excitement through her body. No one had ever tried to act out a fantasy for her before, not even half a fantasy.
‘I’ll go and lock the door then, shall I?’
Not trusting herself to speak, Pia simply inclined her head.
Owen kissed her, his stubble scratching her face, his hands squeezing her shoulders through her coat. ‘I won’t be long.’ His voice was husky, ‘lose the coat and wait for me on the cardboard.’
Watching him disappear through the door, Pia felt sweat cover her palms. Doubts were queuing up at the back of her head. What if Owen doesn’t lock the door properly? How can he be absolutely sure there’s no one left in this massive building? Do I even want to do this in real life, shouldn’t fantasies remain just that?
‘Why’s you’re coat still on?’ Owens voice was accusing rather than amused.
‘You were quicker than I expected.’
‘Of course I was!’ He wrenched the jacket from her shoulders, ‘I’m about to see a beautiful woman writhe before me on a pile of cardboard.’
Pia’s cheeks coloured violently, his brusque manner was in keeping with her dream, but totally foreign to his usual considerate nature. Owen unwound her scarf as she asked, ‘Are you sure that it’s okay? I don’t want you getting the sack or anything.’
‘I think you should leave the worrying to me. I also think you’ve said enough for the moment.’ Bundling up Pia’s hair, Owen scrunched it into a pony tail, which he tied with a collection of elastic bands he had wrapped around his wrist.
Her head spinning as Owen tugged her hair through the rubber loops, catching stray wisps painfully between his fingers, Pia shut her eyes, and inhaled slowly. The aroma of packaging filled her nostrils. She could almost taste it at the back of her throat. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself face to face with Owen. His expression killed any inclination she’d had to speak. A determination permeated with lust radiated from him, and Pia felt her tits swelled beneath his stare.
‘Strip.’
It was not an order that could be ignored. Pia’s shaking hands began to fumble at her shirt buttons, her eyes glued to the bulge beneath Owens black combats.
Shivering with a combination of cold and fear, standing in only her cream knickers and bra, Pia paused, goose-pimples breaking out across her skin.
‘That’ll do for now.’ Owen’s dark eyes shone at her, ‘Now stand right in the middle of the boxes.’
Wordlessly she moved, her naked feet sinking against the uneven make-shift carpet, her toes shuffling away from the occasional rough corner. Fully aware of how turned on she was despite her misgivings, Pia could feel her silk panties sticking to her pussy.
Dragging his eyes away from his girl, Owen walked purposefully to the stack of plastic bags, and picked up one of the tape dispensers. Then, yanking Pia’s arms behind her back, he caught her wrists in one hand, and deftly wrapped some tape around them.
‘Owen I…’
He interrupted his lover before she could go on, ‘You wanted to be dominated on a pile of cardboard boxes, it is too late to complain now its happening.’
Pia opened her mouth to argue, but Owen’s calloused hand came up quickly, and was pushed over her dry lips. ‘If you can’t keep quiet then I’ll have to force you to.’
Surprised at how easily Owen had taken to this new role, Pia clamped her mouth together beneath his hand.
‘That’s better. Now sit down.’
Uncertainty flew through her as she sat cross-legged on the cardboard, curiosity at what might happen next arousing her still further. She kept telling herself that there was nothing to be afraid of, that Owen would never hurt her, but Pia couldn’t help feeling a fission of fear as hormones zipped through her body in passion fuelled confusion.
Crouching before her, Owen smiled, and reverting to his usual manner said, ‘You look incredible. How do you feel?’
‘Good – I think.’
‘Close your eyes.’
The second they were shut, the heady perfume of card and tape intensified the sensation of Owen’s hands on her breasts. Pia was unable to contain a sigh of relief as he unfastened her bra, but when Owen pinched each teat, her sighs became voluble squeals.
‘I told you to be quiet. I’ll have to silence you.’
Pia’s eyes shot back open, ‘But…’
Owen was shaking his head as though he was bitterly disappointed. ‘You’ve proven you can’t be trusted.’ He picked the parcel tape back up.
Before Pia could protest, Owen sealed her mouth with a neat rectangle of beige tape. As the sticky surface adhered to her lips, Pia tried to stop her chest pounding with panic. Adjusting to breathing to just through her nose; she looked and felt like a kidnap victim.
Owen nodded in satisfaction, ‘Beautiful.’
As tears of shock gathered at the corners of Pia’s eyes, he added, ‘Beautiful, powerless, and silent.’
Throwing the tape to one side, Owen’s hands began to fondle the soft flesh of her chest, while licking the moisture away from her eyes.
Pia’s body readily responded to his touch, and as Owen’s fingers dropped into her lap, teasing her stomach, prickles of longing shot up and down her spine. Staring into her eyes, Owen took his hands lower still, making Pia’s breath shallower as he danced his fingertips around the edge of her knickers. Then, holding her gaze, he cupped her mound firmly in one hand.
‘You hot hussy,’ He stroked a stray hair from over her eyes, ‘a helpless hussy. So gorgeous.’
Pia wished she could speak, wished she could reach out and caress his body, handle the muscles in his arms, scratch her nails across his flesh, but she had no choice but to sit, the edges of the boxes digging into her backside.
‘In fact,’ Owen tilted his head in mock contemplation, ‘I think it’s a real shame there’s no one else here to see how fantastic you look.’
Pia’s heart skipped a beat. Suddenly she knew how wrong she’d got things. He hadn’t only heard part of her mumbled fantasy, he’d heard it all. She’d been the one who hadn’t been paying enough attention when they’d discussed their deepest desires, not him.
Owen stroked Pia’s cheek with one hand, and kneaded her pussy with the other, staining the fabric of her panties with her juices, ‘I couldn’t believe my luck when you told me your submissive dream. To be shagged by two men at the same time on cardboard. You really are my dirty little girl aren’t you?’
Pia frantically shook her head, the reality of other men seeing her vulnerable body hitting her in a wave of nervous adrenalin.
‘Oh no baby,’ Owen gripped her crotch tighter, using it to lever her to a standing position. ‘I don’t believe you really want to leave. I think this is what you want; your body certainly agrees with me.’ He reinforced his claim by jabbing a hand inside her knickers, making Pia inwardly groan with pleasure. Bringing his fingers straight back out again, he showed his lover the glistening liquid that stuck to his skin. Licking Pia’s juices away, he said, ‘You couldn’t want this more if you tried, and as you would know if you’d been listening, I’d just love to watch your dream in action.’
As if Owen’s words had been a pre-planned cue, the door to the storeroom opened, and the two drivers Pia had seen earlier walked in.
Pia’s pulse pounded manically as Owen greeted his guests. ‘This is Pia, Pia this is Andy and Craig. I think they’ll fit your requirements.’
Stunned, Pia just stood there, conscious of nothing but the new arrivals eyes as they mentally removed her underwear. They were so near to her that she could smell the same incredible aroma of sweat and cardboard that Owen shared, and the uncertainty that had knotted in her gut was swamped by a hot flush of erotic anticipation. Dressed in the same uniform of green polo-shirt and black combats, all three men oozed an air of barely tamed lust.
Andy, tall and slim, his blonde hair short and spiked, stood to her right. The stockier figure of Craig, his head shaved, his eyes as emerald as his shirt, waited, poised, to her left.
Pia’s legs began to shake as Owen bent his lips to her ear, ‘They are so hot for you. So fucking hot, and I’m gonna watch them have you.’
Her shoulders quivered as his breath tickled her skin, and with eyes that pleaded for reassurance, she peered up at him.
Slipping back into his usual calm voice, Owen muttered so that only she could hear, ‘Don’t worry, you’ll love it. I promise,’ before stepping back and roughly pulling off her sodden underwear.
Placing a hand on each of his colleague’s shoulders, Owen steered them to the far corner of the room, leaving Pia to imagine what they were saying to each other.
After what seemed to have been a lifetime, the couriers strode purposefully back towards her, their faces creased with hunger and disbelief, as if neither of them could believe their luck. Standing at the edge of the cardboard, directly in front of Pia, the three men tore off their shirts. Pia’s muffled gasp of appreciation turned to frustration at not being able to hold either her lover’s chest, or the other toned torsos.
Abruptly, in one simultaneous move, Andy and Craig attached their mouths to Pia’s breasts. The contrasting texture and pressure from each sets of lips, kissing, licking and biting her, felt incredible. Shutting her eyes once more, Pia was grateful for the warm hands that not only snaked over her body, but also supported it, as her limbs shook against the cardboard.
Their digits were everywhere at once, between her legs, over her clit, behind her knees, on her neck, as though each man was on his own personal race against time to get as much out of the encounter as possible before Owen changed his mind about them fucking his girlfriend.
Her head swimming, bright colours exploded behind Pia’s eyelids. All fear forgotten, her whole body began to tighten with a climax that coursed through her so quickly she thought she’d collapse.
Seeing her legs begin to buckle, Owen stepped forward and lowered Pia to the ground, ripping off her gag. Pia cried out as the tape plaster tore mercilessly at her skin, but the new vision before her more than made up for the moment’s discomfort.
Andy and Craig had removed the rest of their clothes, and stood, towering over her naked body. The cardboard bed crackled beneath their combined weight, and with her hands still trapped uncomfortably behind her back, Pia braced herself.
The drivers glanced at each other, as if to confirm some previously discussed plan of action, before falling to their knees either side of her.
A pair of calloused hands flipped her onto her stomach, so that her head was buried in the boxes, and the overpowering scent of the card shot straight into Pia’s nostrils, making her expel a protracted moan of need. Her previous orgasm was already forgotten, all that mattered was the next one.
Two hands grasped her buttocks, and two others pushed her legs up and out at the knees, so all her weight was centred on her face and shoulders as they dug into the rough bed. A pair of bare legs appeared before her. Owen had stripped.
Pia’s blood pounded in her cricked neck as she felt a single finger begin to rub at her clit. She didn’t care who the finger belonged to, just that it kept moving, as she mewled into the packaging.
Then her hands were picked up at the wrists, and one of the couriers plucked away the tape that bound Pia’s wrists. She couldn’t help but scream, as the sticky surface ripped minute hairs from her skin.
Without giving her time to adjust to her freedom, Pia was ordered to her hands and knees. A hand seized her ponytail and wrenched her neck high. Pia blinked at Craig’s thickly erect dick, which hovered just out of reach. She longed to take it between her teeth; the thought of Owen watching her; of him wanting her to do this, making Pia hornier than ever.
With his cock in his hand, Craig began to play it around Pia’s parted mouth. At the same time, she heard a condom packet being opened, and Andy came up behind her, grabbing her left hip with one hand, he began to tease his dick over and around her wet snatch with the other.
This was agony. Pia was desperate to engulf the shaft before her, but that would mean shifting fractionally forward and losing the touch of the cock brushing her from behind. At the same time, she urgently wanted to be full of the rod teasing her pussy, but didn’t want to shift backwards and lose the fragile contact of the cock at her lips.
Pia could see Owen, a broad grin across his face, a palm wrapped around his penis as he slowly caressed it back and forth. Unconsciously, Pia began to rock against the cardboard in time to her lover’s masturbation, so one second she was close to the cock at her mouth, the next, grazing against the one at her snatch.
With each movement, the need Pia felt to keep going increased, and she began to speed up, working herself off against the two men, who somehow managed to keep still as her tongue flicked over the tip of one, and her clit bumped the head of the other.
Her breasts swinging manically beneath her, there was no way Pia could stop now. With closed eyes, she was immersed in a world where only sensation mattered, where only the briefest touch of the two men, the smell of cardboard, and the sound of Owen’s heavy breathing mattered.
Perspiration began to gather on her forehead and between her breasts. Suddenly it was too much, and Pia let out a strangled cry of frustration. She needed to be full. She needed two cocks inside her, and she needed them now.
Breaking the rhythm, she lunged forward and caught Craig’s length between her teeth. Terrified he’d back away, Pia held him firmly in her throat. He didn’t move however, but called out to Owen, ‘Fuck she’s good.’ While Andy shuffled forward, impaling her cunt in one swift move.
Pia’s climax immediately hammered through her. Thrusting and pumping their friend’s girl, both men were so consumed with the need to come themselves, they didn’t seem to notice when Pia shuddered, her body jacking with pleasure. Pinioned between the driver’s, her muscles slackened, and she only managed to remain on all fours, due to the pressure of their hard bodies, as each raced the other to spunk inside her first.
Her mouth filled with salty liquid, only seconds before Andy’s dick exploded inside her snatch. Gulping frantically, Pia wasn’t able to catch it all, and her chin dripped with seed as Craig pulled away from her face.
The moment the men were spent, they backed off, and Pia crashed to the squashed bed, panting hard.
Owen, his shaft still stiff in his hand, rolled Pia onto her back, and showered her chest with a warm rain of come. Then he turned to his colleagues, and with a nod of dismissal, they gathered their clothes and left.
Kneeling, Owen gently wiped the sweat from Pia’s face, and cradled her in his arms, ‘You okay?’
Smiling up at him, she nodded.
‘You were amazing. Totally incredible.’
Her throat too dry to speak, Pia placed her head on his lap, and took a long deep breath, enjoying one final lungful of the scent of the cardboard bed, now improved by the lingering aroma of a fantastic double fuck.
****
Hope you enjoy that little birthday present!! If you want to read more of my short stories- Cardboard is from The Best of Kay Jaybee collection!
Happy reading,
Kay xx
July 9, 2014
Pushing the Boundaries of the Imagination
A few days ago I was lucky enough to be asked by the brilliant Chloe Thurlow to write a blog for her. ‘Any subject you like’ she said.
So I got to thinking… why not check it out and join in the conversation?
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July 7, 2014
Guest Post- An Interview with D D Byrne
I’m delighted to be able to welcome fellow Cariad, Xcite author, DD Byrne (aka the poet Daryl Baldwin), over to my site today to answer a few questions about his extremely busy writing life!!
Thanks Daryl!
What sparks your imagination first, a character, a word, a sound…?
My creative process can be sparked by any of the above. For example, when I wrote my erotic romance novella Drawn, my inspiration came from a Mary Chapin Carpenter song called What if we went to Italy. As soon as I wake, I check out the day’s emails and news channels. Then I play film soundtracks to listen to whatever I’m writing at the time. Sometimes there is a phrase or news ‘sound bite’ that catches my attention, but usually it is just in the everyday mundane routine that sparks a creative splurge.
You write stories, poems and screen plays- which is your first love and why?
That’s a really interesting question because that has changed over time. I’ve always enjoyed writing but scriptwriting was the first serious attempt at writing in which I wrote a Thomas Hardy biopic called The Torn Letter. However, since then, I’ve dabbled in and honed my writing voice in poetry and fiction.
I have an extensive movie collection; modern, classic and world cinema. For me it’s all about the characters and their stories. For example, Lawrence of Arabia is my favourite movie and how the character is in love with the desert. Casablanca is also highly watched because of its sharp dialogue; not one word is wasted and that to me is poetry. So, for me, there is no first love any more. If there is a story, I write it in the medium that will achieve its maximum potential.
Of all of your pieces, which do you most resonate with and why? Name the story/poem and where to find it.
That would be a poem called ‘Reflection’ in my poetry collection Angles from an amber glass. It was one of those moments when I looked at my son and could see him growing and turning into me. But as I thought about that, it wasn’t a joyful experience because I’d also turned out to be like my father in some ways. I love the brevity of poetry and how so much can be said in so few words. I’m sure most people can tell by the tone of a lover’s voice and facial expression how much is meant by the three words ‘I love you’
Please give a short outline of your writing process.
A typical writing day begins whenever I wake up. There’s usually a thought or image from the story I’m writing, or maybe for a totally new story. There’s no time wasted and I get it written down. Sometimes, it could be 3.30 a.m. and the muse will strike. Writing is like breathing. I have to do it!
If it’s poetry, I just write off the cuff until I finish. Then I edit like I’m cutting meat from the bone. With a novella or novel, I like to write scenes and see where my ideas are taking me. Then I stop and see what is good. Then I make detailed plots on what I’d like to keep and where the story may end up. I guess that’s where the filmic plotting comes in . . . I do tend to use the three act system as a focus point for my storytelling.
What are you currently working on?
I have two novels in progress. One is a family drama spanning five decades and how one word can betray a person’s trust, which almost leads to tragedy. The second, which will be penned under DD Byrne, is a contemporary romance, written from a female POV about the graphic design industry.
Would you like to share a sample of your work?
I’d like to share the opening to Drawn because it’s the first novella in print and holds a special place for me.
Clasped in her partner’s arms, the woman gazed at the bay of Naples. Neapolitan lights surrounded the bay and the blood orange full moon’s reflection rippled on the sea. Across the bay, the black hulk of Mount Vesuvius stretched toward the darkening sky.
I laid the open travel brochure on my bed. Maybe I should treat myself to a holiday. Without Tom by my side, there wasn’t much to look forward to. Was there anything exciting about a woman in her 30s touring alone? As I flicked to the next page, I could almost taste the food, savour the smells emanating from rustic backstreet grocers, and soak in the sea, but there’d be nobody to share it with. A sigh rose from my lips as I glanced at the couple in the photograph, imagining what they would do next. They’d enter a swanky restaurant where they’d order a spicy meal with an exotic name that meant nothing to them, while drinking wine they could buy in Asda. The intoxication of Naples would satisfy them and they’d lose themselves in sexual heat before they slept in each other’s arms. But at least they’d have each other. A holiday is exactly what you need, I told myself. It’ll get you away from here … even if it’s only for a short time. And you never know; you may even find a man who’d do all that for you. Hah! There was more chance of Vesuvius erupting.
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You can find all the buy links for Drawn here-
You can find all the buy links for Daryl’s poety here-
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Huge thanks for coming over today Daryl- wonderful interview. I totally relate- writing really is like breathing!! Without it I couldn’t function!
Happy reading everyone,
Kay xx
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