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Sexy Just Got Kinky: ONLY 99p

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August 10  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

HEY! Sexy Just Got Kinky is on sale…

Sexy Just Got Kinky  has some scorchingly sexy stories between its pages.

All for ONLY 99p on Kindle!!

Sexy Just Got Kinky

Blurb

Welcome to Sexy Just Got Kinky, the third instalment of the Brit Babes’ Sexy Just series. Tantalise your dark side with kinks to make you think. From lovers behind bars to lone ladies behind the lens—fisticuffs and feathers, lilos and lube, scissors and sticks, whips, canes and bondage, there’s sure to be a kink within these pages to whet your appetite, tickle your fancies and heat up cold nights.

As you’d expect from a Brit Babes anthology, there is something for all erotica lovers. Each of the eight of us has our own style and approach to the art, which means all bases are covered!

I have two stories in Sexy Just Got Kinky – one is an erotic romance based on the butt, and the other is a more traditional KJB tale, about the relationship between a slave and her master.

Here are a couple of extracts to tempt you with – both pieces are taken from the beginning of each of my stories.

Saddle Sore

“How many miles?” Leah took Luke’s bright yellow shirt, and threw it to one side.
“One hundred and forty-eight miles over two days.”
The masseur raised her eyebrows. “And yet you choose to cycle here the very next day? Your muscles can’t be that bad this time.”
“Actually, it’s the same day.” Luke gave Leah a half smile, “I came straight here. This is where the one hundred and forty-eight miles has delivered me.”
Her eyebrows rose higher. “You decided not to wait at all before you came here?”
“You told me I should come straight after my next ride so my calves didn’t foreshorten again.”
“This is true.” Leah moved towards the door which marked the gateway to her treatment room. She wasn’t ready for Luke to see how pleased she was that he’d arrived on her doorstep again.

saddle-sore-ahead
Hoping that his unexpected early evening appearance was because Luke couldn’t wait to see her again, Leah pointed to the screen in the corner. “If you could slip off your clothes. You can keep your shorts on if you want to, or you can wrap a towel around yourself.”
“I think I’ll lose them if that’s OK. The Lycra is feeling a bit personal at the moment, if you see what I mean.”
“I imagine the phrase hot and sweaty might also apply.”
“Sorry, it does. I should have thought. Would you like me to go home and shower first?”
It was the fractionally off key light laugh Luke gave as he spoke that told Leah she hadn’t misread the signs last time they’d met. Her pulse rate increased, but she managed to keep her voice sounding as professional as ever as she pointed to an adjoining room.
“There’s a shower through there. Why don’t you go and help yourself while I get things set up. You’re lucky my last client of the day cancelled, otherwise I’d have been sending you away.” Deliberately not looking at him, Leah asked, ‘Apart from your calves is there anywhere else that needs attention?’
“Oh yes.”
The unexpected gravel edge to his voice made Leah’s nipples push against the black cotton of her bra. “Really?”
“My butt is killing me in so many ways. You could say I’m saddle sore.”
“Go and shower. Don’t let the water get too hot. Then I’ll sort you out…”

finger-massage

***

The Questionnaire

Dear Slut,
I expect to find this questionnaire completed, and placed on the correction stool, ready for me to read on my return from work.
As you were not permitted to speak yesterday, you will answer these questions so I may learn more about your experience.
TELL ME THE TRUTH. I want details.
From, Keeper.

1. Tell me EXACTLY what you did to prepare for the task I set you yesterday.
From the minute you’d left me yesterday morning Keeper, having told me of your intentions for the afternoon, the hands of the clock seemed to move so slowly. Time always drags when you’re not here, but yesterday the images you’d planted in my head made every second last a lifetime.
I couldn’t get the thought of what was to come from my mind. You hadn’t forbidden me to satisfy myself, and so I did—I had to.
I used the glass dildo you bought me for Christmas. I didn’t even have to rub myself to make sure I was wet enough for it. The sound of your voice as the orders came down the telephone already had my knickers soaking—I was wearing the pale pink lace ones with the almost, but not quite, see-through front.

 

I sighed far louder than you would have approved of as I pushed the dildo in. I was picturing your cock, Keeper. It’s so beautiful.
My eyes were closed as I played with myself. I could vividly see you pulling my ponytail back as, within my imagination, I crouched on all fours before you. I flushed with desire as you used my hair as a lever while you fucked me.
In reality, my right hand’s fingers danced over my nipples as I worked the dildo with the other. I am ashamed to say it didn’t take me long to come. And once I had, I was instantly aroused all over again. It was time to get ready to obey you…

***
The other stories by my fellow Babes are SO hot- I urge you to dive into a copy of Sexy Just Got Kinky to see for yourself!

Available from:

eBook:
Print:
***

Happy reading

Kay xxx

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Holiday Reading: Digging Deep

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July 27  |  Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance  |   Kay Jaybee

DD ebookI’m away on my holidays for a little while, so I thought I’d leave you a little summer something to  read while I’m gone.

Enjoy!

Here’s the first chapter of  my erotic romances, Digging Deep , as a special treat on a cold day …

Chapter One

Irritably adjusting her wide-brimmed hat for the third time in as many minutes, Dr Beth Andrews felt the sting of the African sun sear the back of her neck through the tresses of her long, ginger hair.

She never dreamt she’d miss the stubborn, muddy clay of the British earth she was used to hunting through in her search for archaeological data, but the uncooperatively fine white sand of North Africa was enough to try the patience of a saint.

Throwing down her brush in overheated exasperation, Beth thought fondly of her excavation trowel. Her tool of choice had quickly been rendered obsolete in the face of so much sand, and a job that was, by necessity, slow was reduced to a snail’s pace as the metre by metre square of the Ancient Roman bath house site in which she worked backfilled in on itself with every sweep of her light bristled brush.

It had been a dream come true for Beth when she’d been selected to lead the University of Wales’s excavation team, digging the sprawling Ancient Roman city of Lepti Major on the outskirts of Sousse in Tunisia. She had longed to experience new exotic sites and see new exotic sights. The chance to uncover stunning mosaics and city roads that hadn’t been trodden for 1000 years was an opportunity she’d had no intention of letting pass by.

olive groves

The fact she’d be sharing responsibility for the site with her archaeological hero, the unimaginatively named Dr Harrison Harris from Colorado, an American academic who’d been the subject of many of Beth’s private fantasies since she’d fallen in love with his work, not to mention the photograph of him on the back cover of his books, in her first year as a student, was neither here nor there.

Flicking her eyes covertly over towards Harrison, Beth averted her attention away from the slight increase in her pulse rate by recalling what the site’s previous supervisor had said about working in Africa’s extreme temperatures. “Scalding by day, and freezing by night”. Linda had warned Beth that her freckle-spotted, sensitive flesh would loathe being either fried or frozen just as much as her archaeological brain would relish the challenge of constructing a city from its remains.

Beth hated the fact that Linda had been right. She’d never been rendered so sweaty, not to mention so blotched with extra heat-induced freckles, in her life. There couldn’t have been a centimetre of her body that hadn’t got a fresh cluster of beige dots on it. After only a week under the sun, it was becoming a struggle to hold on to her generally calm approach to life, and Beth was finding that her temper, which rarely flared in the UK, was on a permanently short fuse.

What got to her most was that none of her colleagues seemed to be suffering at all. They were all happily tanning as they worked, and sleeping off their exhaustion with ease at night.

It hadn’t taken Beth more than a few hours of digging in the unshaded bath house on her first day to see that a survival technique was required to prevent the elements disrupting her professional judgement. She tried thinking about work, home, rain, and even walks in the snow as she worked, but only one thing successfully diverted her attention from the exposure of her unusually pale flesh to the elements, and that was to allow her mind to fill with erotic scenarios and fantasies, while her hands got on with the job in hand.

This specialised amusement had the benefit of taking her mind off the sun that managed to scald her back even through three layers of thin cotton, and had the added bonus of warming her at night. Lying on her thin camping mattress, Beth would recall all she’d pondered during the day, engendering an ardour between her thighs that her fingers deftly maximised, leaving her physically warmer and bodily sated, and thus making it easier for her to fall asleep.

At first, Beth had been determined that Harrison would not feature in her erotic musings. Her resolve had not lasted long, however, and although she did her best to make the men in her sexy survival scenarios anonymous, the American’s face crept in with increasing frequency.

Manoeuvring a layer of burning sand from one side of her section to the other, Beth considered her colleague. His reputation as an expert in Roman archaeology was renowned. Beth had never dreamt she’d ever meet him, let alone work with him as an equal. His knowledge and academic intellect had been enough to make her heart flutter for years. Yet what Harrison was like in reality was not at all how she’d assumed he’d be.

She’d envisaged him as being chatty, tall, slim, dark-haired, and weather-tanned. He’d probably wear glasses for reading, and be forever clad in T-shirts and large-pocketed shorts as he leapt around excavations like a gazelle.

In fact, she’d hardly heard Harrison’s distinct Colorado accent. He seemed to prefer his own company to that of the group. When he did talk to Beth, he called her “doll,” which made her feel like a lump of mass-produced, animated plastic.

Harrison was about 5 foot 7, not the 6 foot plus she’d pictured, and his spiked hair was a sun-kissed blond and not brown. His build was stocky and muscular, his bare arms and legs permanently gritted with granules of sand, and although he moved with a speed which would have been the envy of any gazelle, he managed to proceed around the site somehow without making a sound.

The problem is, Beth thought as she traced the outline of what she suspected might be a Roman drain gully, I built up an image of him based on a book cover’s black-and-white out of date headshot, and I was way off.

archaeology in sand

She’d been right about Harrison wearing knee-length shorts, though. Everyone on the dig wore such shorts, except for the stick thin, heavy-chested blonde on the American team, who might as well have been wearing knickers her shorts were so scanty. Beth sighed as she looked down at her own attire. A protective covering of baggy clothing shrouded her limbs, and her porcelain neck was hidden beneath spirals of her ginger hair, which glowed as if she’d been hit by radiation rather than African sunlight.

Ryan wasn’t helping either. The most charismatic of her students had been so enthusiastic on his first morning that he’d headed to the site before everybody else, without waiting for Beth to detail where to dig. Consequently, he’d powered through the ground in an alarmingly gung-ho manner, neglected the recording of each strata-graphic layer and, with his six-pack and biceps shining against 120 degrees of sunshine, had crashed his shovel into the corner of a mosaic that had been safely protected by the landscape for hundreds of years, breaking off half-a-dozen exquisitely coloured tessera cubes, and rendering one of the depicted Medusa’s snakes partially headless.

Beth had gone ballistic. To his credit, Ryan had been mortified. He’d begged her not to tell anyone. For the sake of the university’s reputation, not to mention her fear that Harrison would take one look at her careless student, assume she was no good at supervision, and send her home, she had agreed it would be their secret. Ever since, however, Ryan had been driving Beth mad with his attempts to make it up to her at every opportunity.

Only that morning he’d lent so close to Beth as he informed her he was going to make up for his blunder that his soft Welsh tones had vibrated against her skin. His manner was so blatantly suggestive that she hadn’t been able to prevent the inappropriate smile that had very briefly crossed her lips.

Picking up her dustpan and brush, Beth stroked away the grains of sand that sat between her and her judgement as to whether the lines being revealed were part of the bath house drainage system or not. Expertly tracing the changing colours in the freshly uncovered ground, Beth, confident that her theory was correct, and that the ancient shadows of the gully she could see could be followed across the ground with ease, readopted her technique to deviate her attention from the cruel climate, while her fingers worked the earth.

What exactly is Ryan offering? she wondered. A sneaky snog behind the equipment cupboard? A cooling down of my chest with his tongue? Or is he more ambitious than that? Does he imagine me naked, face down, spread-eagled over an empty wheelbarrow with his cock between my legs; or see us together in the shower, washing off the worst of the sand that seems to be permanently stuck to my body while he shoves his dick down my throat?

For goodness’ sake, woman! she chided herself. Beth was surprised to find her chest, whose generous size she’d always loved before, but now heartily wished was small enough to go without the extra layer of material her bra provided, was becoming taut. Cross with herself, she shook her hair out from beneath her hat, as if trying to dislodge the thoughts from her head. Having random erotic dreams might be the only thing that keeps you sane in this blast furnace – but you must not consider your students! Get a grip!

Briskly returning to the matter in hand, Beth cut through a layer of denser sand, wishing Ryan wasn’t working the section directly behind her. She daren’t turn to check he was all right like she did her other students. The last time she’d done so, she had caught him ogling her butt with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, which couldn’t have been mistaken for anything other than the type of lustful intentions her own imagination had just so colourfully displayed to her. Ever since then, she had been more than a little self-conscious of the stretch of her cotton combats over her backside.

Crouching on her haunches, letting her eyes roam across the site as a whole, Beth struck Ryan from her mind, and began weighing up the significance of what she was excavating in relation to what else was opening up on the dig before her. As she leant in closer, a glitter of something just below the upper level of the sand caught her eye. Trailing her brush across the yellow surface, she mentally listed all the hidden things that might shine: mosaic tesserae, jewellery, votive offerings to the gods …

With a sharp scream, Beth stumbled backwards out of her square in a mad scramble to escape. Her find was none of the things archaeologists dream of uncovering. In the haste to get away, her left foot caught on the guide string that divided her metre section from the next. Tripping, she fell heavily backwards.

Flushed with an embarrassment that enflamed her already pinkened features, Beth found herself being scooped onto Ryan’s lap, his arms wrapped protectively around her.

Alerted by the unexpected shriek, the other students in the immediate vicinity began to gather round. Most of them, however, backed away the moment they saw what had caused Beth’s unusual lack of professionalism; except for the leggy American, who looked at Ryan in disgust, pointedly rolled her eyes at Beth, and returned to her work.

Beth didn’t have time to think about the blonde’s unsympathetic reaction. All her attention was on the bronze snake which hadn’t appreciated its home being disturbed by an inquisitive human. She was convinced it was staring straight at her, its tongue flicking, smelling the air around it in an accusatory manner.

Her initial shock subsiding, and abruptly sensible of where she was, and how it must appear to see one of the supervisors in the embrace of a student, Beth scrambled shakily to her feet. She wasn’t sure if she was more mortified by her public reaction to the snake, or by the fact that her body felt more than a little content at being cradled so protectively in Ryan’s arms so recently after her erotic ruminations had headed in his direction. ‘I’m sorry, everyone! That was a bit of a shock. I’m not good with snakes.’

‘Don’t worry about it, boss.’ Ryan ran a consoling hand down Beth’s cotton-covered arm, creating small prickles of uninvited lust that appeared on top of the prickles of fear already there, and sending them both tripping towards her crotch.

Rueing her kinky imagination, Beth took another step away from her student. Moving rather too fast, she collided with the stocky frame of Harrison Harris. He’d crossed the site on his ever-silent feet to see what all the fuss was about without her even noticing, causing Beth to jump out of her skin for a second time. ‘Honestly. Harrison, don’t you ever make a sound when you move?’

‘Hardly ever!’ He treated her to one of his Colorado smiles, making Beth suspect that he was privately laughing at her. ‘You OK, doll?’

Not stopping to waste her breath on asking him for the umpteenth time not to call her “doll”, Beth did her best to ignore the twinkle in Harrison’s eye that confirmed he found the situation hilarious, and settled for being grateful that he hadn’t vocalised his mirth in front of their charges.

‘I’m fine. The snake took me by surprise.’

Beth had no doubt this little episode would be site folklore by dinner time. She didn’t usually care about that sort of thing, and was always one of the first to laugh when she made a fool of herself, but now she found her face darkening with embarrassment in the face of her colleague.

‘Is that all?’ Harrison bent down and retrieved the brush Beth had abandoned in her hurry to move away from the snake. ‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure. Just shock. I don’t like snakes. I haven’t damaged anything, I hope.’

‘No harm done.’ Harrison shot Ryan a look which plainly said “this time”, making Beth wonder if the timing of the breaking of the mosaic had gone unnoticed after all. ‘Here you go, doll.’ He gestured to the creature. ‘He’s just a sand snake. Won’t do you any harm. I’ll move him somewhere safe.’

‘Thank you.’ Beth’s words came out rather weakly as the unfortunate creature was picked up and repositioned against a dune of previously excavated sand, into which it quickly disappeared. Seeing Harrison rehome the creature with no more fuss than if he’d moved a worm from a flower bed to a vegetable patch made Beth even more cross with herself for being so feeble in front of a man she’d so badly wanted to impress. She found herself babbling in explanation, ‘Insects I have no problem with. Spiders are cool. But snakes … I can’t stand them.’

This time Harrison did laugh openly, wiping one of his calloused palms across his forehead, smearing dirt into his spiky hair and knocking back his faded Stetson in the process. ‘You’re a regular Indiana Jones, doll!’

Indie

Keen to keep the general atmosphere light, Beth added, ‘Well. As long as I don’t get chased by any oversized boulders or attacked by a tribe of pygmies with blowpipes then I guess I can live with the comparison!’

Taking a hefty swig from her water bottle, she smiled, relieved that her ability to laugh at herself was finally reasserting itself after days of being diminished by the heat.

Harrison grinned as he strolled to his side of the dig. ‘Gotta love that dry English sense of humour, doll.’

Beth called after him, ‘Thanks for the snake removal, Harry.’

He kept walking as he corrected her. ‘Harrison. It’s Harrison, I told you. I don’t like being called Harry.’

She shouted at his retreating back, ‘And I don’t like being referred to as a doll. It makes me sound like a character in an American B-movie! Message received?’

Still laughing, Harrison didn’t look round, but held up a hand as if in defeat. ‘Gotcha, doll! Message received.’

Stepping back into her square, Beth looked at her watch. It wasn’t even ten o’clock in the morning, and the heat was already making it feel as if someone was systematically pouring paint stripper across her shoulders. She could hear her students chatting happily as they worked. All except for Ryan, who was unusually quiet.

Beth sighed as she recalled Harrison’s glare towards Ryan, and realised it wasn’t just her rationale she’d left in the colder climate of home, but her common sense as well. It was time to come clean about how Ryan had messed up the mosaic and, more importantly, why she hadn’t reported the incident straight away.

Her decision made, Beth’s hands returned to working the ground, while her imagination speculated how it might have felt if Harrison had been the one she’d accidently sat on. Would I have wanted to get up quite so quickly? Her pussy twitched as if in confirmation, as her green eyes studied the Roman drain …

Digging Deep is available as a download or a paperback from all good retailers, including-

Amazon US link- http://www.amazon.com/Digging-Deep-Xcite-Romance-ebook/dp/B00AY1J0OM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1357654446&sr=8-1&keywords=digging+deep+kay+jaybee

Amazon UK link- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Digging-Deep-Xcite-Romance-ebook/dp/B00AY1J0OM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1357654789&sr=8-1

Happy reading!!

Kay xx

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Birthday treat: FREE copy of Wednesday on Thursday

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July 12  |  BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance  |   Kay Jaybee

It’s my birthday week and to celebrate – or possibly to help me forget- the chalking up of another year, I’ve decided to pop my latest erotic novella on Amazon for FREE for 5 days!

Wednesday on Thursday was the most fun to write. It contains all of my favourite things- coffee, wordplay, a touch of Egyptology, a spot of bondage, the odd bit of self-control, puzzles…oh, and a gorgeous red head called Thursday!

So if you fancy taking a peep into the word of the coffee guy, Wednesday, and Thursday, then this is your chance to do so for nothing!!

Wednesday on Thursday

Here’s little taster to whet the appetite…

Sat at her usual table, stirring a spoonful of sugar into her latte, Wednesday began her daily cycle of speculation. Who was he? Did he come into the cafe at other times and fixate on other customers? What was going through his mind while he observed her so intently? Why didn’t it bother her?

Most men noticed Wednesday’s chest first; some opted for checking out her arse. A rare few went further with their assessment, and engaged her in conversation before they tried their luck.

But not this man; the one she referred to as the coffee guy.

With a double shot espresso in his hand, the first time he’d set eyes on Wednesday, the coffee guy had started with an unashamed assessment of her chest, then, over a period of several weeks, studied her from the top of her head to the toes of her shoes.

Instinct told Wednesday to avoid the coffee guy at all costs. The way he examined her with his enquiring midnight blue eyes was so unsettling. And yet…

Whenever Wednesday walked into the café she frequented during her lunch break, the coffee guy would be there. From the moment she took her first step through the door, his focus would shift from his drink to the queue of customers, where it would become fixed upon her.

She thought she’d imagined it at first, but as time had gone by, Wednesday had become increasingly convinced it really was her he was watching.

It had crossed her mind that maybe she should be scared, that this man could be some sort of voyeuristic stalker. But Wednesday didn’t feel threatened; just intrigued and aroused, although she wasn’t sure why…

***

BLURB

There are rumours that the coffee guy has “a thing” about words.

Shrugging off her friend’s concern about the way the man in the café stares at her every lunch hour, Wednesday can’t see how his love of words could possibly be hazardous.

The fact is, Wednesday rather enjoys being the centre of an attractive man’s undivided attention. His dark blue eyes alone have provided her with many delicious erotic fantasies, a welcome distraction from the pressures of the real world and a dull job.

It’s totally harmless…

…until there’s an accident with a cup of coffee.

After soaking Wednesday with a hot latte, the coffee guy’s attention suddenly becomes far more enticing—and dangerous.

Drawn into a bizarre world of human behavioural research, where crosswords are used to initiate sexual experiments, Wednesday finds herself driven, not by a desire to further scientific research, but by the need to be rewarded for her hard work by the coffee guy’s captivating research assistant.

A stunning redhead by the name of Thursday…

***

To grab your copy of Wednesday and Thursday for FREE, make sure you click on the appropriate link before midnight on Sunday.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Wednesday-Thursday-Kay-Jaybee-ebook/dp/B01N5SOMT0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1485329803&sr=8-1&keywords=Wednesday+on+Thursday+Kay+Jaybee

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N5SOMT0?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660 

https://www.amazon.ca/Wednesday-Thursday-Kay-Jaybee-ebook/dp/B01N5SOMT0

Happy reading,

Kay xx

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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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