erotic romance

Finger Music: A taste of Kay

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June 24  |  Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance  |   Kay Jaybee

If you’ve never read any of my work before, then The Best of Kay Jaybee is just the right place to start before you venture on to discover my novellas and novels.

Here’s a taster from Finger Music for you…

Finger Music

The subdued light of the room reflected off the whitewashed brick walls, gathering in one bright spot on the polished floorboards. In the centre of the glow, a pair of oversized brogues were firmly planted either side of a long metal spike; a spike that, as Sally’s eyes slowly rose, turned out to be attached to a double bass. The first member of the jazz trio hired to play in the bar where she worked that evening had obviously arrived early to rehearse.

It wasn’t the presence of the single musician that halted Sally on her way to the staffroom, but the sound he was creating. The wooden panels beneath her feet resounded to the rhythm, humming against her trainers, as she stood transfixed.

Ignorant of even basic jazz, Sally watched as the man played, his bulk equal to the challenge of supporting the instrument, his eyes tightly closed, lost in his music as his digits danced up and down the fret with a speed and agility that belied his thick fingers. And yet, as she watched, Sally realised she’d been quite wrong. This man wasn’t bulky; he was simply tall, fit and immensely strong. A flicker of unexpected electricity climbed up her spine.

With his eyes still shut, a patina of perspiration gathered across his forehead as his fingers increased speed with the tempo of the music.

Sally pushed her back to the door and, bending her knees, slid quietly to the floor, her eyes never leaving those nimble fingers. Vaguely aware that she had never witnessed anything as erotic as those smooth digits as they skilfully played, Sally began to wonder how else he might employ such dexterity.

The tune he’d been playing morphed seamlessly into another, slower this time, calmer, a more sensual glide taking over from the heady yet graceful hammering of the previous melody. Sally glanced up at his face, suddenly realising where she was; sitting on the hard wooden floor, half an hour before the bar opened. Her manager, fellow waiting staff, and the other members of the jazz group could walk in at any moment, expecting Sally to have everything all set up for the evening ahead.

Although his eyes remained shut, Sally felt caught out. She didn’t know if the man was aware of her presence or not. Scrabbling back to her feet, she tried to shake off the hypnotic beat that resonated in her ribcage and between her legs. Trying to stop herself allowing her imagination to mentally replace the double bass fingerboard with her own spine, Sally self-consciously began to edge toward the staffroom door.

‘Did you like it?’

His voice was almost as deep as the notes he’d been playing, and seemed to echo into the abruptly quiet space.

‘I … um … yes …’ Sally felt an uncharacteristic blush cover her usually pale cheeks. ‘I hope you didn’t mind me listening.’

‘That is what I’m here for.’

Already aroused by her fantasies about his manual dexterity, Sally felt a further tug at her crotch as his right eyebrow lifted, and a blast of searing-eyed mischief scorched her.

‘Oh yeah, right.’ Her limbs felt awkward and clumsy in the presence of his obvious confidence. It was as if he knew what he’d done to her. As if he’d summed up her physical condition in just one look.

From nowhere, Sally remembered a line in a book she’d once read that had made her scoff: “it was as if he could see right into her soul”. At that moment it didn’t seem like the romantic clap-trap she’d taken it for. It felt hot and real, and the black cups of her satin bra no longer felt big enough to contain their contents.

‘Would you like to try?’ He gestured to both Sally and the double bass in one go, by tilting the instrument in her direction.

‘Um …I …’ Sally’s throat seemed to have dried in upon itself, but her feet shuffled toward him anyway, her eyes glancing between the entrance to the staffroom and the door that led back into the main bar. ‘I should be getting the room ready for your gig; the others will be here very soon’

‘There’s plenty of time.’ Dismissing her task as unimportant, he grasped her wrist and smiled. Immediately Sally felt his pulse match her own, as he stood her so she was sandwiched between the double bass and his body. As his arms passed around her waist she inhaled his intoxicatingly musky odour, her head filled with sudden flashes of a love scene from the film Ghost. She really hated that film. A giggle escaped Sally’s lips.

Ignoring her nervous laughter, he said, ‘You need to place your fingers like this -’ He splayed his hand and rested it over her chest, making Sally take a sharp intake of breath.

Huskily she spoke. ‘You seem to have missed the double bass.’

‘Basics first, honey.’

Sally’s sense of humour and feelings of uncertainty escaped in a further strangled chuckle.

‘Are you ticklish?’ He moved his hands gently, fixing them upon her firmly, as if holding a set of strings.

‘No! Look, this is silly.’ Sally giggled as she wriggled away from him, aware of something dying inside her as she left his grasp. ‘All that is missing is the potter’s wheel!’

He scrutinized her carefully. ‘I wouldn’t have had you down as a chick-flick romance sort of girl.’

With her self-consciousness climbing to a whole new level, Sally scrubbed a stray red hair from her eyes, awarding him a mental point for understanding which film she was referring to without her having to launch into an explanation. ‘I have a housemate; she makes me watch crap movies.’

His eyes narrowed sceptically. ‘That would explain it.’ A giant right palm came forward, bringing Sally back to the matter in hand. ‘I’d like to teach you. Come on.’

‘Someone might see.’

‘Now why would that bother you, I wonder?’ He was mocking her, but despite the silence, Sally could still sense the music; and something in her yearned to hear it again. ‘I was only going to show you how to play.’

Sally swallowed. She couldn’t believe how badly she wanted this man. She didn’t even know his name. He was just an anonymous part of the jazz trio, the remaining members of which would surely be arriving soon.

More than a little aware of her damp knickers, Sally gave in to her reservations and allowed herself to be pulled back against him. The top of her head only reached as far as his neck, and he rested his chin comfortably on her shoulder. He whispered now, the breath of his words caressing her earlobe, ‘Close your eyes and feel.’

This time he squeezed her tightly between him and the double bass and, as if she wasn’t even there, began to play.

The shock of the notes as they rang through her body, throbbing between her pussy lips and igniting her breasts, dried her throat further, sending her imagination into overdrive. Bringing the instrument closer, the musician squashed her chest beneath his fast moving arms, making her very aware of the bulge that had developed in his trousers behind her lower back.

So engrossed was she in the sensations the man and his strings were creating, that at first Sally didn’t notice that his arm had moved, and was diving inside the thin black T-shirt that formed part of her waitress uniform. Without breaking his stride, the bass player popped her small breasts free from their satin holster and continued his fingering. This time though, her bare flesh and hard, taut nipples had replaced the strings directly, and every nerve in Sally’s body shot to her pussy.

Colours danced behind her eyelids, flashing blue and green before, with a firm thrust forward of his groin, and an increase in the speed of the flowing notes, blazing reds and oranges lit up the inside of her eyelids. The lust that the music had been quietly nurturing, combined with the deft touch of his large yet incredibly gentle fingers, abruptly centred itself on her snatch.

Forgetting where she was, and that they might be disturbed at any moment, Sally moved to meet the thrusts. Her arms, previously limp at her sides, reached around to his back, so she could clench the stranger’s arse. Pulling him nearer, Sally could feel the erection that was becoming more defined by the moment.

As soon as she grabbed him, his hands abandoned the bass entirely, wrapping themselves around her. Keeping up his tactile fingering, and as if Sally herself was the instrument, he carried on playing, her breasts, torso, and stomach replacing the fingerboard and strings. The only thing missing was the music, yet it was buzzing through her as, shifting his stance a little, he centred his entire musical prowess on her breasts, her nipples becoming the sole objects of his agile playing…

***

If you want to find out what happened next, you can find The Best of Kay Jaybee in e-format and paperback from all good stockists, including-

UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Best-Kay-Jaybee-ebook/dp/B009YYRM3Q/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1352239489&sr=1-2

US- http://www.amazon.com/Best-Kay-Jaybee-ebook/dp/B009YYRM3Q/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1352239753&sr=1-1&keywords=best+of+kay+jaybee

***

Blurb

Fourteen of the very best erotic tales of dominance, submission, bondage, and romantic lust, are delivered with lashings of kink from the pen of Kay Jaybee.

From the sexual adventures recalled by a woman as she stares at her favourite shirt, to a deliciously dirty orgy on a bed of cardboard boxes, the after-hours education of a rookie soldier, and the bizarre obsession of an Egyptologist, each story shows why Kay Jaybee has been hailed as ‘a master of the craft of erotica’ (Oysters and Chocolate). As a girl writes messages of lust on the body of her best friend’s lover, and a mistress’s employment of ropes and chains on her slave co-insides with the application of emulsion, we discover just how Kay has earned her reputation for producing ‘super-heated kinky stories,’ (Kd Grace), which are ‘a sublime pleasure to read’ (Violet Blue).

***

 

Happy reading,

Kay xx

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Cupboard Lust: Smut Sunday

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June 11  |  BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

I like a cupboard – a nice confided space with a door and shelves. Somewhere where you can get ‘stuck in’ while you getting stuck in….

Hardly Sunday morning thoughts perhaps!

But then this is Smut Sunday…Catch all the blogs here- http://smutsunday.co.uk

This week I thought I would share a little of my BDSM short story collection, Tied to the Kitchen Sink, to keep you going!

Tied to the Kitchen Sink

 

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 lair, 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.

One of the elements of writing erotica that I enjoy the most is to take random mundane things, such as hairbrushes, books, chairs, or cardboard boxes, and give them far more interesting uses than the one they were designed for. With the three short stories tucked within the e-pages of my anthology, Tied to the Kitchen Sink, I had particular fun playing with this idea.

The use of a kitchen sink in the first (and title) story is far more interesting than just for washing up in! And in the final story, The Bad Poet, the implications hidden within a poorly written poem are played out over a small table and a bed that holds far more than sheets, pillows and a duvet!

Anyway- cupboards…

It is in the anthologies middle story, Becky, which takes place in a very unusual office, where even the most minor mistake is punished by the BDSM obsessed boss and his secretary, Miss Harriet, that you find one of my favourite cupboards. In this case, an office stationery cupboard…

…It is an unusual cupboard. From floor to ceiling in height, it has an increased depth hidden behind its grey metal doors. The shelves that surrounded the walls are set well back so that at least two people could occupy the remaining space with the doors closed. On every shelf there was a collection of instruments; canes, whips, paddles, nipple clamps. There was all the necessary material to keep a correction freak going for years; ribbons, ropes, cuffs, chains, gags. The more you looked the more your heart froze and your eyes widened. Becky looked. Her face revealed nothing.

Miss Harriet had silently come out of her office. Without a word she stood behind Becky and helped her off with her remaining clothes. She was so beautiful. I realised I hadn’t really looked at Becky properly before. I already wanted to touch; I began to imagine her beating my breasts with a short stick, before soothing them with her tongue.

I came back to reality. Such feelings must not be displayed here. Becky was now just inside the cupboard doors, facing her audience. She seemed to shine. How had she got to this point so quickly? It had taken me many beatings before I had learnt to enjoy it, and even after nearly eighteen months I could never be so open about it. I still have the shame. Maybe I need it.

Becky stared through us as she looked straight ahead. Miss Harriet had taken one of her slim wrists and was tying it to a conveniently placed hook on one of the shelves with a silk cord. Then the other wrist was secured, then the ankles, and finally, a thin silver collar was snapped securely around her neck, its long leather lead dangling provocatively between her breasts.

Miss Harriet stepped out of the cupboard and looked to her boss for approval. He nodded. I could clearly see, when I dared to glance, that his dick was straining against his suit trousers. They shut the doors of the cupboard and we all heard Becky gasp. She had expected pain, arousal. They had given her nothing…

****

If you fancy discovering just how much productive use can be got out of an office cupboard, how awful my poetry can be, and exactly how the kitchen sink was misused, you can buy Tied to the Kitchen Sink at Amazon UK, Amazon.com, and all good e-retailers.

Amazon UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tied-Kitchen-Sink-BDSM-Erotica-ebook/dp/B008J46P1W/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1391959394&sr=8-1&keywords=Tied+to+the+kitchen+sink+kay+jaybee

Amazon.com – http://www.amazon.com/Tied-Kitchen-Sink-BDSM-Erotica-ebook/dp/B008J46P1W/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1391959472&sr=8-1&keywords=Tied+to+the+kitchen+sink+kay+jaybee

Happy smutty reading!

Kay xx

PS- Don’t miss all the other Sunday Smut stops today x

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A Sticky Situation: a taste of erotic romance

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June 6  |  Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance  |   Kay Jaybee

A Sticky Situation is an erotic romance with a decidedly tasty edge…

Sticky Situation- New 2015

If there is a paving stone to trip over, or a drink to knock over, then Sally Briers will trip over it or spill it. Yet somehow Sally is the successful face of marketing for a major pharmaceutical company; much to the disbelief of her new boss, Cameron James.

Forced to work together on a week-long conference in an Oxford hotel, Sally is dreading spending so much time with arrogant new boy Cameron; whose presence somehow makes her even clumsier than usual.

Cameron on the other hand, just hopes that he’ll be able to stay professional, and keep his irrational desire to lick up all the accidently split food and drink that is permanently to be found down Sally’s temptingly curvy body, all to himself.

It could be a very long week- unless Cameron can find a way of making Sally slop so much of her after show champagne, that he has no choice but to march her off and relieve her of her sodden clothing… He is sure that, if he could find a way to stop Sally resenting him taking her previous bosses job, then they could enjoy no end of sticky situations together…

britbabes_kink_mildnsaucy_1

After the arrival of new boy, Cameron James, to Zelcon Pharmaceuticals, Sally takes and instant dislike to him- a dislike that is tainted further with distrust when she learns that he is to be her new boss. Cameron however, has serious sexual fantasy issues about his new assistant- but he just can’t see how someone so clumsy can be as good at her job as everyone says she is…

Not only was this the first proper erotic romance I’d ever written (no whips or chains!), but A Sticky Situation was my first foray into the word of food (and indeed drink) sex- and it was terrific fun to do!

marmalade

Initially inspired by me spilling a breakfast of marmalade on toast down my front in full view of an entire café full of people, I began to wonder how I could work my own regular foodie clumsiness into a sexy love story, and which foods I could play with!

I toyed with the idea of a variety of fruit juices running over naked bodies; ice cream deserts being smeared into interesting places, and even selectively dotted spots of marmite- however, on this occasion, these foodstuffs didn’t make the grade! Avoiding my usual BDSM moments in the interests of a softer romance, I nonetheless stayed faithful to my kinky story style with the help of champagne, ice, and even a vast helping of Chinese noodles…

…Resting Sally’s juddering frame against the bed, Cameron’s eyes fell on the carton of noodles. Taking up a single strand of the cold sticky string, he held it between finger and thumb, bringing the end against Sally’s hypersensitive nipples. It was high time he lived out one of the fantasies she had inspired…

Her eyes flew open as the tacky pasta began to circle her right tit, reminding Sally of the snake hidden away on his backside. Her breath caught in the back of her throat as she watched, mesmerised, as the elongated noodle began to hide her boob.

Picking up another noodle with quiet reverence, Cameron said, ‘I was going to tell you about my fantasy…’

***

noodles

If you’d like to read about Sally and Cameron’s adventures, then you can buy A Sticky Situation from all good book and e-retailers, including-

http://www.amazon.com/Sticky…/dp/B00L4N4JZE/ref=sr_1_13…

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Sticky-Situation-Cariad-Singles-Book-ebook/dp/B00L4N4JZE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1403706109&sr=8-1&keywords=A+Sticky+Situation+kay+jaybee

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Tantric Massage: A story exclusive inspired by ‘Karma Tantric’

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May 31  |  erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

Last year I was lucky enough to be commissioned to write a unique story for ‘Karma Tantric’ – I thought it was high time to give that story another airing!

***

There are many parts that make up the whole when it comes to erotica. Over the years I’ve learnt so much about a world that, to be honest, I knew next to nothing about before I had my first story published 12 years ago this very month. (Yes, time really does fly when you’re having fun)

One area that I’ve always been curious about is the world of Tantra or Tantric Massage. A few weeks ago I was asked by the lovely folk at “Karma Tantric” if I’d consider writing an exclusive story for them.

Karma Tantric

This was a challenge I couldn’t resist, and so I set to work. First though, I had to make sure Tantric Massage was what I thought it was! It’s easy enough to assume you know what a ‘real’ erotic massage is like, without actually having a clue!

So- and this is a very basic description- Tantra massage is an ancient healing art which uses sexual energy to achieve a higher state of consciousness. Skilled tantric massage therapists use sensual touches, such as lightly running fingertips along the entire body, to awaken an energy field within the body. The therapist, once having awakened this energy field, can provide lovers with an ecstatic experience. Not only that, but they can allow trapped physical and mental pain to escape from the body.

Breathing techniques, known as pranayamas are sometimes used to allow the client to actively move energy from one part of the body to other parts of the body. Using breathing alongside the tantric massage is intended to enhance the experience and helps the recipient exercise self-discipline and self-control during unanticipated arousal.

In short, Tantric Massage is about about taking the person being massaged to the edge of orgasm and back then repeating until a mind blowing orgasm

You can find out much more about Tantric Massage at Karma Tantric https://karmatantric.com

massage

Inspired by the idea of tantric massage, I have written a short story called Lower. I am not claiming this is entirely tantric…although the masseur certainly intends it to be…at first!

I’m hoping you’ll enjoy this brand new exclusive KJB tale.

 Lower

(copyright Kay Jaybee)

His butt was even more beautiful than she’d dreamed. And Lara had dreamed about Callum Parker’s backside a lot.

Toned, but not overworked. It retained a shapely curve that was almost pearly white compared to the tan of his legs.

Lara allowed herself the luxury of just staring at her client’s back view for a few moments while deciding where exactly to start the therapy.

Each time Callum had visited her treatment room before, she’d concentrated on loosening his cycle tired calve muscles. Although they flirted constantly, and he’d frequently complained of saddles ores, his rear had remained a potential gift Lara longed to unwrap; a towel guarded point of fantasy.

Today the masseur was determined things would be different.

Operating in her vest and shorts, Lara picked up a tube of cooling cream, and tucked it inside her bra. ‘As I said when you booked this appointment, in the interests of reaching and treating every inch of your persistent saddle sores, I’m going to try a tantric technique. For that I’m going to have to sit astride the massage bed.’

Without waiting for a repeat of the approval Callum had given her on the phone, Lara climbed up, trapping his lower legs beneath her.

‘Comfortable?’

Callum’s muffled reply sounded positive, and smiling widely, Lara began to relax. Their increasingly tantalizing phone calls over the past few months had convinced her that the cyclist was as up for a more tantric method of muscle manipulation than he’d tried before. Something erotically charged, which would genuinely help ease his hobby inflicted discomfort, as well as taking her a step closer to her own fantasies about the man.

Dancing her fingers over the skin which marked the divide between Callum’s backside and his legs as if it was a piano, Lara tapped repeatedly while critically regarding the extent of the abrasions on his butt.

Never applying more than the lightest of touches, never pausing in her tender attention, she listened intently. Until she heard what she was waiting for, Lara had no intention of stopping the stroke of her fast moving digits.

Finally, it came.

‘Lara, please…’

Resisting the temptation to slip her hands between Callum and the table, so she could discover if he was as hard as she was wet, Lara extracted the bust warmed balm from her cleavage.

Unscrewing the cap, she placed the tip of the nozzle against the top of his buttocks. Then, prising his cheeks apart a little at a time, she gave the tube a squeeze. A thin snake of cream disappeared from sight as Callum’s chaffed cheeks closed behind Lara’s agile fingers.

Managing to keep the rising pleasure from her businesslike voice, Lara said, ‘I’m going to search for the spot where it hurts the most now. I’m going to find where you truly ache. I want you to tell me when I arrive at the point that’s the most saddle sore. OK?’

‘Yes, Lara.’

The obedient way he said her name sent a shot of power through her system. It was an unexpected extra aphrodisiac, leaving Lara wishing she’d had the nerve to take her shorts off before starting the treatment.

‘The aim of a tantric massage is to carefully work your body to a point of pleasure beyond the awareness of sores and strains. To release your own energies to provide a heightened desire that clouds any pain. Are you ready?’

‘Uh, huh.’

finger massage

Using her index finger, Lara kneaded the lotion methodically, watching to see where the white flesh had been burnished scarlet the most due to the rub of the bicycle saddle. On reaching his anus Lara paused. She was enjoying the subtle change in the sound of Callum’s breathing. Suddenly he was panting as if he was cycling up a hill, rather than lying motionless across a massage bed.

‘How sore are you here?’ Tracing a second fingernail over his anus, Lara nodded in satisfaction as it puckered under the slight pressure.

‘I…’ Callum’s sentence morphed into a sigh as she dropped a pea sixed portion of ointment directly over his butthole.

Resting a finger in the centre of the newly deposited thick white liquid, Lara rotated it in tiny circular movements, relishing the effect she was having on Callum.  His previously relaxed palms had gone from being flat, to gripping the side of the bed as if he feared he might fall off. She was sure he was already close to coming, and she lessened the weight of her ministrations.

Aware of the steady rise of her own pulse rate as well, Lara took a slow exhalation of air. Then, slipping a hand inside her knickers, she casually announced, ‘While I’m attending to your sore areas, I’m also attending to mine.’

‘What?’

The husky edge to Callum’s voice drove Lara on as she replied, ‘Unless you inform me that you have worse sores elsewhere, then the salve I’m stroking over your arse, is going to slip inside you soon. Very soon. Your rear keeps winking at me. It appears hungry for my caress, so I guess it must hurt in there.’ Lara paused, deliberately letting Luke’s steady climb towards the point of full arousal die back a little before she added, ‘And in answer to your question, I’m pleasuring myself too. My clit to be precise. It’s all stiff and rather slippery. Your handsome butt is having a very unprofessional effect on me.’

‘You’re…wet?’ Callum’s words were so low she could barely hear them.

‘Soaking. I may have to take off my shorts and panties. Do you want me to sit astride you while naked?’

He virtually shouted, ‘Yes,’ before his voice became more beseeching. ‘But I don’t want you to take your hand from my arse either.’

‘Why? Is that where it’s the sorest?’

‘It is sore there, but that’s not where it hurts most.’

Lara eased a little finger just inside his rim, forcing a throaty groan from Callum’s lips. ‘Ah, so that is where it hurts the most?’

The cyclist gave an audible gulp ‘The sorest bit is lower.’

‘Lower?’ Savouring the texture of his flesh, Lara thrust her digit deeper while bringing her other hand back into service, quietly easing the tension from Callum’s lower back. ‘Is that where it hurts most?’

‘Oh hell…ummm…no…but…’

Withdrawing her finger, Lara was about to plunge it back in when, in a rapid rush of movement, Callum twisted at the waist and grabbed Lara’s bare leg tightly. Pulling her until she had no choice but to awkwardly slide off his legs, he grunted, ‘You bloody well know where it hurts the most woman!’

His cock stood stiff and eager as he lay face up on the bed.

‘I believe that’s cheating.’ Somehow Lara found the strength to pull away from Callum’s enticing grip. ‘I hadn’t finished releasing your erotic energy.’

‘What the hell is that then?’ The cyclist pointed to his erection.

Lara smiled, but she didn’t reply. Instead she stood, quietly reassessing where to concentrate her therapy now her working angle had been prematurely altered.  Eventually broke the silence. ‘Close your eyes and rest your hands by your sides.’

‘You have got to be kidding.’

Speaking steadily, Lara said, ‘Do you want this massage? Do you want to feel better?’

‘Yes, Lara.’

‘That’s better. Now trust me. Whatever happens, the end result will make you feel good. I promise.’

As Callum struggled to lie still, Lara forced her businesslike approach to continue despite her own growing arousal. ‘I can see that the saddle sore has affected more than your rump area. While I sort you out, I want you to concentrate on breathing in and out in time to the movement of my fingertips.’

Sliding each of her palms up the inside of Callum’s thighs, tapping each digit gently in turn, Lara smiled as his dick quivered in response to her presence. ‘Remember to think about your breathing.’

It took several minutes of soft pummelling before her client began to relax against the bed. Waiting until Callum had lost a little more of the desperate edge which had previously suggested he might climax at any second, Lara abruptly increased the pressure beneath the pads of her fingers.

Changing the angle of her contact, pressing her thumbs either side of his balls, working him harder, she saw Callum raise his head off the bed. ‘Breathe! Slowly.’

‘And what about you? You’re not breathing slowly? I can hear you from here!’

Lara laughed, ‘This is a case of do what I say, don’t do what I do. Now let me finish, or you won’t get the erotic massage you want, where you want it the most.’

Again she eased off the force as her fingers tripped lightly over him, sending a gratifying groan from Callum’s throat.

Once the tension beneath her touch had subsided, Lara began to re-edge Callum’s body towards a new erotic high by adding a finger to the action of her thumbs.

Instantly, Callum’s breathing became ragged as he fought his instincts to reach out for her.

As Lara witnessed a flush of a deep crimson assail his shaft, her breasts made a silent plea of their own from the claustrophobic confines of her bra, prompting her to a decision. The very next time Callum made an illegal move, she’d let him, whether she’d finished or not.

Sliding both her hands from his groin towards his inner thighs, Lara was in the midst of a private battle to close her mind against the urge to engulf his cock in her mouth rather than her palm, when Callum sat bolt upright.

come here

‘For fuck’s sake woman!’ Grabbing her thighs in his large hands, he dragged down her shorts and knickers. ‘I think you can declare your erotic massage technique a success.’

Yanking her leg urgently towards him, Callum, said, ‘Sit here.’ Gesturing towards his face, Lara was quickly crouched astride his head. Her head spun as she made herself adopt the breathing pattern she’d urged him to use.

Breathe in- as his tongue hit her clit.

Breathe out- as his fingers worked her pussy.

Breathe in – as her whole being ached in sympathy with the cyclist.

As Callum massaged her with a combination of his mouth and fingers, Lara began to tremble, and by the fifth swipe of his warm tongue her breathing was as deliciously laboured as his had been.

Drawing away, Callum, carefully copying his masseur’s previously professional manner, said, ‘Tell me Lara, where are you sore? Where do you ache? Would you like me to massage you were it hurts the most?’…

(This erotic story was inspired by Karma Tantric, an erotic and tantric massage agency in London, UK)

***

I hope that made you smile…or at least tingle a little bit!

I think it’s high time I actually tried a tantric massage in real life…

Many thanks to Erica at Karma Tantric for inviting me to write this story for them today.

Happy massaging everyone,

Kay xx

 

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Smut Sunday: The Perfect Submissive

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May 21  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee


This week, for Smut Sunday, I thought I’d give you something to read from the first of the books in my darkly erotic series, The Perfect Submissive Trilogy!!

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I have been writing erotica for almost thirteen years now, and over that time I have built up something of a reputation for penning tales of the S&M and BDSM persuasion. Never has this reputation been more deserved than with Book One of the trilogy The Perfect Submissive, which I have to confess, definitely falls into the heavier side of erotica. In other words, it is pretty full on!

BlurbHidden behind the Fables Hotels respectable facade, five specially adapted rooms wait; ready to cater for the kinky requirements of its guests.

When Mrs Peters, the mistress of the hotels exclusive entertainment facility, meets the new booking clerk, Jess Sanders, she instantly recognises the young woman’s potential as a deliciously meek addition to her specialist staff. All it will take is a little education.

Under the tutelage of the dominatrix, Miss Sarah, Jess learns to cope with her unexpected training schedule, the increasingly erotic chill she experiences each time she survives a new level of correction, and a truly sexy exercise routine.

 Temporarily distracted from her intimidating rule over Fable’s top floor by  an enigmatic artist, Mrs Peters begins to plan how she can secure his obedient assistance, in grooming Jess into the perfect submissive…

Making a living out of writing sex scenes is great fun whichever way you look at it. For me however, it is the kinkier scenes that are the most interesting and attractive to both read and create.  To be able to invent interesting and unusual- yet believable (if somewhat muscle stretching), ways to provide pleasure is a challenge I really enjoy. Taking everyday objects and turning them into instruments of eroticism- through either direct pleasure, or through pleasure via desired pain, is a wonderful way to spend my days! For example, why just use a paintbrush to paint with?

In the following extract, Miss Jess Sanders has been working at the Fables for a few days now, and has been introduced to the Hotels pseudo school room. We join the action were the poor girl has been tied to an art table for what seems like hours, and now, at last, physical relief has arrived…

‘Master Philips, this is Miss Jess Sanders, the new administration clerk, and soon, well … let’s just say, I have high hopes for this young lady.’

Jess’s brain galloped off at a number of conflicting tangents as Lee nodded in evident understanding. An understanding Jess certainly did not share. What high hopes?

‘While you were lying here enjoying yourself, Miss Sanders, Master Philips here, has proffered me a great service.’

Jess said nothing, her eyes trained on the white tabletop before her, not wanting to see the predatory look of either of the people who towered over her. She could feel the sexual tension rising in the stale air of the room, and her body tingled.

Daring another glance at the young man, Jess took in the short dark hair, the slim body, the midnight blue eyes, and the unmistakable bulge of a hard cock beneath his suit trousers, which made her pussy give an involuntary spasm against the brush.

‘As you can see, Master Philip, Miss Sanders has been corked with one of the heftier classrooms paintbrushes. Just a little something to keep that untutored body amused in my absence.’

Jess closed her eyes as she heard Mrs Peters talking about her as if she was a mere thing, a toy to be played with. The idea appalled her, and yet, somehow the thought that they could do whatever they liked to her, sent another shot of desire through her abused frame, confusing her further.

Lee said nothing, but watched as Mrs Peters’ hand went towards the bristles that extruded from the girl’s cunt. Jess groaned as it was abruptly pulled out, leaving her pussy emptier than ever.

Sardonically observing Lee’s aroused state, the manageress asked him, ‘Would you like your dick to replace the brush handle for Miss Sanders? I’m sure that right now she is feeling particularly in need of filling, and I know you have a cock worthy of the job.’

Without raising his head, Lee replied, ‘Thank you Mrs Peters, I would.’

‘Then assist me.’

rope

Swiftly Jess’s bindings were untied. It felt strange to be free, and the clerk’s shoulders cracked as she moved, flexing her arms and legs to get her blood circulating again. Jess wasn’t allowed her freedom for long however, as Mrs Peters yanked her arms sharply behind her back, re-tying her wrists, and shoving her into the larger and more comfortable teacher’s chair, her butt on the very edge of the seat, her legs spread.

‘As you are aware, Master Philips, I consider patience one of life’s greatest virtues, a lesson I think, by the look of desperation that is shining so blatantly in Miss Sanders’ eyes, it is high time she learnt.’

‘Yes Mrs Peters.’ Lee deflated slightly as he realised he would have to wait a little longer for his reward, but felt better when Laura passed him the paintbrush, knowing precisely what he was supposed to do with it.

Jess, her eyes wide, her throat drier than ever, watched as Lee ran the brush’s soft bristles between his fingers. Kneeling before Jess, he placed the tip of the paintbrush on the very end of her right nipple. Gasping with shock at the sensitivity of the touch, Jess began to shiver against the sweeping strokes Lee focused on her breast.

‘I must congratulate you, Master Philips.’ Mrs Peters spoke with approval. ‘You have an excellent technique there, arousing, and stimulating, without being quite enough to make your subject come.’

Jess groaned. Why wouldn’t they let her come? As the deliciously torturous brush moved onto her left tit, tears of desire and frustration gathered at the corner of her eyes. She knew she was minutes away from begging. Begging to be fucked, begging to be allowed to come; begging for a warm mouth to come to her pussy, her chest, her mouth.

Her quivers turned to shakes as her stomach knotted with the build up of a fast approaching climax.

A gesture from Laura and Lee dropped the brush, causing tears of desperation to course down Jess’s cheeks. ‘Now, Miss Sanders, you have to learn to pace yourself. This is as much for our enjoyment as yours, and we are not ready to let you come yet.’

Blinking in disbelief at her superior’s words, Jess felt the tears dry against her face, as once again the brush was employed by Lee, this time along her tethered arms, her unsteady legs and her taut stomach. Concentrating hard on not pleading for more direct attention, Jess tried to ignore the growing ache between her legs, and the increasingly obvious presence of Lee’s erection.

Jess’s persistent moans turned to helpless whimpers as Mrs Peters finally broke the tension, ‘You may remove your clothes, Lee.’

The young man moved with uncaring speed and Jess gulped as she saw the neatly circumcised penis that was pointing at her hungrily, slide into the waiting rubber.

Ordered to sit up straight, Jess obeyed as the barman gratefully sank his length into Jess’s slick snatch. Their mutual sighs of relief made Mrs Peters issue a sharp sneering laugh, ‘So young and so desperate.’

paintbrush

Picking up the brush, the manageress began to stroke the cream bristles back over Jess’s tormented nipples, as Lee heaved against her, slapping his backside and balls against her in his urgency to come.

Jess screamed out her climax, her body rocking in shocked pent up pleasure.

As Jess slumped against the barman, Mrs Peters dropped the brush to the floor. ‘You see, Miss Sanders, some things are so much better if they are promised, but withheld for a while. If you are made to wait, you appreciate things all the more. Don’t you think?’

‘Yes, Mrs Peters.’ Jess spoke automatically through breathless lips. There really wasn’t anything else she could say…

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If you fancy delving in to the world of Mrs Peters and discovering how Jess copes with her submissive education, The Perfect Submissive is available in paperback, and as an eBook from all good retailers, including-

AmazonUK-http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Perfect-Submissive-Kay-Jaybee/dp/1908262788/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1358716163&sr=8-1

Amazon.com-http://www.amazon.com/Perfect-Submissive-Kay-Jaybee/dp/1908262788/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1358717314&sr=1-1&keywords=perfect+submissive

Per Sub 3

Don’t forget the story continues after The Perfect Submissive with The Retreat, Knowing Her Place, and then the novella length extra tale, The New Room

Make sure you catch ALL the Smut Sunday links!

The New Room- Per Sub short

Happy Reading,

Kayxx

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