Everyone Needs A Bedtime Story

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Something for the Weekend: The New Room

This week I’m offering a little from the novella length, finale to the Perfect Submissive series, The New Room

#somethingfortheweekend

Blurb

A Perfect Submissive Series short story. (Following on from The Perfect Submissive Trilogy)

Resident submissive of the Fables Hotel’s adult entertainment floor, Miss Jess Sanders, has been instructed to test out the new facility that her manageress, Mrs Peters, has designed for the sexual pleasure of her clients.

With a dungeon, Victorian study, medical bay, school room, and the daunting White Room already available for their guests, Jess can’t begin to imagine what lies behind the innocent looking door to the fifth floor’s new room.

Under the supervision of the dominatrix, Miss Sarah, as Jess steps into the new room, she quickly discovers she is about to experience far more than she bargained for… at freezing temperatures.

With the feeling that she’s acting in a play that everyone knows the script to but her, the Fables’ perfect submissive is challenged to the limit in Mrs Peters’ new room, and beyond…

Extract

Her instructions had been to go through the door, walk three paces forward, and then stand and wait inside the fifth floor’s latest facility.

Frost was already crusting over Jess’ shoulders, and the dampness of anticipation that gathered at her crotch prickled as it chilled against her surrounding’s winter-like caress. Her eyes stung with as she blinked into the stark brightness of the space, but as Jess’ hands had been secured behind her back, she couldn’t rub them better.

As the submissive looked about her, she saw that not only could the discerning paying guest at the hotel enjoy the delights of a pseudo-school room, a Victorian study, a dungeon, a medical bay, and the intimidating White Room; they could now experience icy arousal in a fairy-tale style snow grotto.

The ceiling and walls had been studded with crystals and draped with shimmering chiffon fabric that took away the room’s rectangular proportions, making the space feel cavernous. Tiny silver fairy-lights sparkled like glitter, while genuine ice granules clung to every surface, including the fake snow that made a distinct crunch beneath Jess’ strappy silver heels.

Having been stripped of all her clothes by a silent Mrs Peters, prior to being thrust across the new room’s threshold, Jess had been surprised that she’d been allowed her to keep her shoes on. Now she understood why. Only the heavy silver and green velvet robe that had been hung around her naked shoulders gave the submissive any level of protection against the all-invading cold. If she’d had to stand on bare feet in the room, even after all her endurance training, Jess wouldn’t have lasted for more than a few minutes before she had frost bitten soles and toes.

Surveying her surroundings more thoroughly, Jess was just contemplating how easy it would be to hide instruments of sexual play and deprivation between the fake cavern walls and the real walls, when she became aware of the sound of a faint hum.

The distinct brrring vibration of a refrigeration unit.

No wonder it felt so arctic; the room was literally a freezer.

A freezer that held nothing but two chairs, that sat in the very centre of the frost-crisped pseudo-cave.

One seat was more like a fairytale throne than a chair. Made of wrought iron and painted silver, its high back was decorated with intricate butterfly and flower shapes. Well padded with plush, silver satin cushions over the back and seat, Jess already knew it was far too comfortable to have been placed in the room for her use.

The chair to the throne’s right was stark by comparison. Wooden and straight backed; it had been painted plain white and held neither ornamentation nor cushions. That’s where I’ll have to sit, Jess thought, if I’m permitted to sit at all.

The crunch of snow being scraped behind her told Jess that someone had opened the door. She didn’t turn to see who it as. She knew better than that.

A pair of hands came to her shoulders, but the heavy fabric of her cloak prevented Jess from being able to tell whose grip it was. Mrs Peters had told her this was to be the first staff training session in this room; therefore the hands had to belong to a member of the Fables staff. The tone of the breathing behind her, combined with the size of the handhold, informed Jess the newcomer was male. That meant it had to be either Master Lee Philips, the barman and occasional helper on the fifth floor, or Mr Sam Wheeler, Mrs Peters’ personal slave, business partner, and professional artist.

The hands didn’t move from their position on Jess’s shoulders as the whirr of the generator was abruptly drowned out by the activation of some ethereal music from a speaker hidden between the folds of the fake ceiling. The haunting Celtic lyrics drifted into Jess’ ears, adding to the eerie atmosphere and making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as the unknown person stepped closer to her back.

With each fresh second that passed, Jess had the uneasy feeling that she’d walked into the throne room of the Snow Queen – a wicked Snow Queen.

The masculine hands moved slowly. The confidence of touch that Jess had come to recognise from the men on the Fables staff was missing. As the palms slid down her arms, ducking beneath her cloak, the visitor took each of the submissive’s tethered wrists in his hands, and briskly marched Jess forward.

The submissive’s mind raced. Who is this man?…

Buy from

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

“Fans of The Perfect Submissive series rejoice. This is the novella we’ve been longing for. I won’t spoil it but this story had me bouncing with glee. All of your favourite characters make an appearance and as you would expect, the scenes are intense and exciting. A big thumbs up and sexy striptease for this wonderful short story.” Goodreads 

Happy reading.

Kay xx

Wednesday on Thursday: The Inspiration

Today I thought I’d share a little of the inspiration behind Wednesday on Thursday.

Like all authors, I get my inspiration from everywhere and anywhere- and it doesn’t always wait patiently to be invited into my imagination. Often it rudely trespasses across my mind, shoving aside the plotlines I’m already working on, with the audacity to declare that it needs writing up right now!

The queue of ideas in my head from unexpected explosions of inspiration is incredibly long. As a consequence, it was over a year after I’d had the initial idea for Wednesday on Thursday before I had the chance to scribble down the initial plot outline. It was another six months after that when I had time to begin to write this story of words, sex and coffee.

And the initial inspiration… there was a man sat in the corner of my local coffee shop. He had a very particular sort of smile on his face as he bent over his newspaper, and espresso in one hand, and a pen in the other. I didn’t know him, but there was something about him that screamed out loud and clear that his mind was full of images that had nothing at all to do with the newspapers crossword he’d know started to do.

His expression, the strong smell of coffee and the partly completed crossword started something snowballing my imagination…words turn me on. Intelligence turns me on more…and a nice smile…well…I risked a covert glance at his eyes. Well- that was that- I had found the hero for Wednesday on Thursday. I still have no idea how I didn’t sit down and start writing the story there and then- must have been the novel deadline I had looming! I also have no idea how I kept my eyes off him for the rest of the morning…Okay…so maybe I didn’t!

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 cafe 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…

***

Here’s another little snippet from my sexy crossword, coffee, and threesome based novella…

Extract from Wednesday on Thursday

… Wednesday had selected her clothes with more care than usual. She told herself she was wearing her best underwear because it gave her more confidence. It was absolutely not because she’d spent a largely sleepless night dreaming of the coffee guy’s expression as he ran his shrewd gaze over her jet black satin bra with matching knickers.

With one extra button open on her shirt, Wednesday left her flat, raking her hand restlessly through her long chestnut hair. She kept telling herself that he was just a bloke who got off on the power of making her feel sexy. That was perfectly all right by her, because he clearly had no intention of doing anything beyond titillating her imagination.

Wednesday had experienced her fair share of relationships during her twenty-nine years, but no-one had ever managed to arouse her with a single glance before.

‘For goodness sake, woman, you don’t even know his name!’ Even though she kept trying to talk sense into herself, the four hours until lunchtime couldn’t pass fast enough.

By the time her break finally arrived, Wednesday thought her heart was going to thud right through her chest with nervous tension. Walking into the cafe, she was more than usually aware of the sound of her heels clattering across the wooden floor.

Wednesday forced herself not to look for him, to just queue up for her latte and toasted sandwich as she always did. Even though she managed to prevent herself from obviously surveying the busy room, she covertly hunted for him nonetheless.

He wasn’t there. A sensation of disappointment gripped her. She felt stupid; humiliated even. But only briefly.

There was an envelope on her regular table.

Sitting down with her food and drink, Wednesday gaped at the cream coloured envelope. Her name was written in clear script across its front.

Wednesday took a soothing sip of her drink as she wondered if the coffee guy was hidden nearby. She had an uneasy feeling that, if he was secretly observing her, he’d be getting off on watching her reactions. Struggling to steady her erratic breathing, Wednesday was more than a little aware that her tits were doing their best to burst through their satin holster.

Exhaling slowly, she opened the envelope.

The words had an instant impact on her internal temperature gauge. Wednesday’s body began to alternate between flushing with heat and shivering with cold, as if she was getting a fever and a chill at the same time.

 Dear Wednesday,

Forgive my rudeness for not having properly introduced myself before now.

My name is Lucas.

I will be blunt. I find you fascinating, and would like to make love to you. I would like to say my intentions are honourable, but they are not. They are lust-driven, and I feel it only fair you know that from the start.

If you are interested in knowing more, then please come to the address below once you have consumed your toasted sandwich. If you choose not to visit, then I will leave you in peace from this moment forward.

Whatever your decision, I would prevail upon you to keep this correspondence private.

Flat 1.

56 Chambers Way.

Regards,

L x

P.S. I apologise for the coffee incident. I trust I did not damage you. I will make the sincerity of my regret known to you should you decide to be my guest.

Wednesday didn’t finish her lunch.

Her legs had started taking her in the direction of Chambers Way without bothering to ask the rest of her if it was a good idea or not.

She knew the address.

The building, a private block of flats, was only two hundred metres from the office block where Wednesday had been employed as an administration clerk for the past two years.

Knowing she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t find out what was within Flat 1, with her pulse racing, Wednesday hovered outside a dark green front door.

A door that led to Lucas and whatever he planned to do by way of an apology.

Without allowing herself to think about what she was doing, Wednesday knocked twice…

***

Buy Links

UK- 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

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

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

Happy reading!

Kay xx

Something for the weekend: A Kink a Day Book Four

This week I’m sharing something from the final anthology in my #AKinkaDay #series-

A Kink a Day-Book Four.

Why not settle down for a sexy read with #somethingfortheweekend?

Here’s an extract from the first story in the collection – Brick Dust.

‘Tell me. What else did he want to do to you?’

‘He…’ A layer of dry dust landed on Liza’s lips, making it difficult to reply.

‘Come on girl. We’ve got you this far, and hell; you don’t half look good.’

Liza could sense Mick’s urgency. Before he’d tied her up his tone had been methodical and controlled. Now, as the quarry foreman towered over Liza, observing her as she discovered what it really meant to be spread-eagled, naked, exposed, and vulnerable, his Praetorian accent crackled with barely suppressed lust.

‘He…’ She licked her lips, tasting stone grit on her tongue, ‘…he wanted to force me into begging to be fucked.’

With her arms at right angles to her body, and her wrists and ankles roped to parallel winch shafts, Liza had the strangest idea that she must look like an open pair of scissors.

After accepting the temporary job as administrator at the South African sandstone brick quarry, Liza’s main worry had centred around coping with the extreme heat after years of living on the cool English coast.

Once she’d arrived however, Liza had moved on from considering how she would keep cool to how she’d manage to keep her hands off her boss. Within half an hour of meeting Mick, Liza had been fantasising about what it would be like to sit on his lap; slowly rising her arse up and down, as her body engulfed his thick, solid cock…

That afternoon, sat at office desks, Liza had been struggling to coat the back of her neck with sun cream, and Mick had offered to help.

If Mick had stopped applying the lotion once he’d covered her neck, then perhaps nothing would have happened. But Liza hadn’t wanted him to stop. She’d daydreamed so often about the site foreman giving her a more thorough lotioning than was strictly necessary, she hadn’t complained when Mick lifted her vest top over her head and began to anoint the rest of her back.

It was only when Mick moved to her front, that the reality of discovery had invaded Liza’s brain. The idea that someone could walk into their office had dragged her fantasy fuelled imaginings from the tug Mick was creating at her crotch, and caused her to defensively cover her white bra with her hands.

‘What is it with you?’ Mick sat back, more amused than annoyed. ‘One minute you’re asking me to run my hands all over that hot body of yours, and the next you’ve gone cold. Who you hiding from?’

‘What makes you think I’m hiding? I just don’t want anyone to walk in and see me with your paws all over my chest.’

‘Come off it. You’re hiding. Why else would you be working in the middle of nowhere for six months when you could be running some nice clean company back home.’ Mick winked at Liza, the fact she hadn’t complained about his hands being on her tits silently hung in the air between them.

‘Anyway, you’re not the first. Nearly everyone who takes your job is avoiding something somewhere else. What’s your excuse for turning up here? Not just to give me wank dreams surely?’

Perversely pleased that she’d been having as much an effect on Mick as he had on her, Liza gave him a half smile. ‘You wank about me?’

‘Believe it. You’ve done some unbelievable things in my head.’

It was no good pretending she didn’t fancy Mick. It was obvious. The white cotton of her bra was thin, and the poke of her nipples was undeniably visible. Letting her hands drop from her breasts, Liza asked, ‘Such as?’

‘You want to know what we do together in the privacy of my head.’ Mick’s lips curled at the edges, his chocolate eyes challenging. ‘Thirty seconds ago you were little miss shy?’

‘I want to know.’

‘Then you have to tell me why you’re here.’ The foreman took a step closer to his assistant, his half open shirt hinting at the dark work-honed chest beneath. ‘Do we have a deal?’

Taking a swig from her water bottle, Liza stared back at Mick. ‘Deal. But you have to talk first.’

Mick placed a calloused palm on Liza’s shoulder.  ‘How brave are you?’

Liza swallowed, ‘Oh I’m brave.’ She paused, before adding, ‘Although not as brave as my ex-boyfriend wanted me to be.’

‘Is that so? And is how brave he wanted you to be something to do with why you’re here?’

Perspiration began to dot the back of Liza’s neck. ‘The deal was that you’d go first.’

Liza’s pulse raced with a mix of fear and excitement. Her body badly wanted Mick, but suddenly he seemed potentially more dangerous than the man she’d left behind. The man who had become so relentless in his physical demands that he’d begun to bore her as well as disturb her; prompting her to take an impromptu overseas career break.

‘Alright.’ Mick pushed his chest against Liza’s as she perched on the edge of her desk. ‘For a start, you always appear in my imagination with no top on. Your tits are free. Naked. Tight.’

Liza felt as though she was being hypnotised by his words. She was watching his lips move, her own imagination miles ahead of him, picturing Mick’s fist around his cock, pleasuring himself as he contemplated her breasts. Breasts which he was now releasing from their bra holster.

‘Often your nipples are in my mouth. I lick them, bite them, and suck them.’

Liza could picture the scene he was creating so vividly that she had to stop herself from asking him to suck them there and then.

Keeping his eyes fixed on her ample chest, Mick’s hands caressed her bare arms as he went on. ‘Sometimes I imagine you begging for me to touch your breasts. I get off on your frustration. On making you wait. You’re longing for something that is only in my power to give as you lay, totally naked, spread eagled…’

Liza shivered as Mick stressed the last words. He spoke more deliberately now, and their eyes locked. ‘…and you are tied outside, to the sandy ground…’

She froze, whispering, ‘But that’s what he wanted.’

‘He?’…

***

If you enjoyed that, you can buy A Kink a Day- Book Four via…

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

You can find the other ebooks in the A Kink a Day series here – mybook.to/AKinkaDayTrilogy

Happy reading,

Kay x

Something for the Weekend: A Kink a Day Book Two

The #weekend is upon us once more, and what better way to spend it than with a little bit of kink?

This time’s #somethingfortheweekend comes from a story within my sexy anthology,  A Kink a Day Book Two 

(HALF PRICE on Smashwords until the end of July)

Eight hot erotic fantasies – one for each night of the week – and a spare…

Blurb:

From the kinky activities of an obligingly dirty girl, to an unorthodox game of snooker; a battle with both extreme heat and cold, and some delicious cafe-time action, A Kink a Day Book Two provides a bite-sized moment of lust-fuelled distraction for each day of the week—with an additional erotic fantasy to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.

Here’s a taster from Dirty Girl…

‘Do you think we look anywhere near that good when we shag?’ Ryan asked, pressing the “pause” button on the DVD to highlight a man and a woman fucking each other uncontrollably against a fridge.

‘Better.’ She looked him straight in the eye.

‘Better?’ his mouth twitched. ‘Always the dirty girl.’

‘Would I be sat watching porn with you if I wasn’t?’ Beth slowly undid her blouse and revealed her naked tits. ‘Whatever would Gary say?’

‘Gary understands. Trust me.’

Beth laughed as she began to stroke her coffee-coloured nipples. ‘I’m not sure trusting you has ever been a sensible option.’

‘True.’ Ryan smiled mischievously, his eyes fixed firmly on her chest.

He watched as she flattened her breasts with her palms, kneading them vigorously.

Her eyes had closed. ‘Bad, dirty and very, very naughty, that’s me.’

Ryan pulled her towards him. He brushed her hands out of the way and began to flick his tongue around her breasts. Beth grinned down at him with satisfaction, watching his expert tongue working its magic on her sensitive skin.

The ring of the front door bell echoed through the room. Beth scowled in the direction of the hall. ‘Shit; who’s that?’

Ryan pulled away. ‘Stay there, dirty girl. I’ll be two minutes.’

Beth helped herself to another glass of wine as she enjoyed the spectacle on the television; two women were now prowling round on all fours. She could hear Ryan moving about upstairs. ‘Everything OK?’ she shouted.

‘Fine, won’t be a minute.’

He bounded downstairs again a few minutes later looking flushed and determined, carrying a canvas bag which he put down by the sofa. ‘Now, let me ask you a question, dirty girl; what do you prefer? Me sucking your tits, or actually seeing me suck your tits?’

‘Both. But I guess I get a kick out of watching you work on me. It adds a certain something.’ …

AVAILABLE FROM…

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Available from Smashwords  at HALF PRICE until the end of July

Happy reading!

Kay xx

Something for the Weekend: The Voyeur

Why not escape into a little kink, and enjoy #somethingfortheweekend with my BDSM menage romance  The Voyeur ?

My darkest of tales, is currently #halfprice over on #Smashwords.

Blurb

Wealthy businessman and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite S&M club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff. His Personal Assistant, Anya Grant, and his Housekeeper, Clara Hooper.

Upon the backs of his willing slaves, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy – Fantasy 13- can take place.

But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And what hold does the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club, Anya’s previous employer, have over Mark? A place Anya was only too delighted to escape from.

In order to find out, Mark’s girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they’d left behind them all over again; and while they do, Mark will watch…

Here’s an extract to tickle those visual taste buds… To their horror, Anya and Clara have just been told that they have to repeat many of the fantasies they thought they’d left behind them. In this section of Chapter 3 we find the girls about to retake Fantasy 2, while Mark looks on. It’s torture by erotica…

…Reclining in his chair, Mark raised his arm as if he was about to start a race, and gave the first order. ‘Strip.’

With practice born of repetition, the women divested themselves of their clothing, heaping their discarded garments onto the bed behind them.

Mark took a moment to study his staff, and then pointed to the foot of the four-poster bed. Understanding the unspoken request, the women stood, face to face, one metre apart.

Anya could feel her heart rate quicken further as she regarded Clara. It didn’t matter that she had enjoyed the feel of Clara’s skin a hundred times before; all that mattered was feeling it again, and soon.

‘As you will remember, you must remain exactly where you are, without touching each other, without making a sound. All you have to do is listen and refrain from moving.’ Picking up a well-thumbed paperback of erotic short stories from the bedside table, Mark took his time leafing through the pages to find the section he’d decided to narrate to his staff.

‘Even though Gail had been expecting it, the ring of the doorbell still made her jump. Wiping her palms apprehensively down the back of her jeans, she went to greet her guest.

‘The smile that met Gail as she opened the door turned into a beam of approval as Becky’s eyes scanned Gail’s snug-fitting red top and black jeans as if she had X-ray vision. “Wow, that’s one sexy vest, honey.”

‘Gail’s face flushed, but she managed to swallow back her natural inclination to dismiss a compliment, and let her own eyes roam over her visitor. Becky, in blue jeans and a plain black figure-hugging T-shirt, which displayed her cleavage to perfection, looked fantastic. Her recently washed and fluffed hair smelt mildly of lemon, and her face looked fresh and keen.

‘“You look pretty hot yourself, come in.” Becky followed her host into the small hallway that led to the lounge.

‘Gail was thankful for the background music she’d put on, for now they were here, face to face, just out of arm’s reach, an awkward tension hung in the air. They simply didn’t know what to say to each other. Surprising herself by being the one to break the silence, Gail spoke quietly. “This is ridiculous. Come here.” Catching hold of Becky’s hand, feeling how cold it was despite the heat of the room, she pulled her down onto the short blue sofa.

‘They still didn’t talk, but now it didn’t matter. As Gail sat, her legs hooked up under her, her body whorled toward Becky, everything within her immediate sight became blurred around the edges; this girl’s face, her clear green eyes, her mouth, the hands that began to reach out to Gail …

‘As Becky’s fingers reached her cheeks, Gail was snapped back to reality by their tender touch on her pale flesh. Placing her own hands on Becky’s shoulders, Gail ran them up each side of her neck, until she was cupping her face. The desire to kiss this person, this woman, was overwhelming. As her face came to Gail’s, Becky muttered, “You still want to?”

‘“Oh yes.” Gail hardly even breathed the words as their lips came together and their eyes closed.

‘The goose-pimples that had been spotting Gail’s arms tingled, and every nerve-ending flickered as a supple tongue darted against her mouth, and soft hair stroked her face. Her lips would have been happy to keep doing this, to kiss this person endlessly, but Gail’s body had other ideas, and after a few moments she could no longer sustain the leisurely pace.

‘Her kisses became firmer, and Becky, picking up on Gail’s urgency, reciprocated with equal fervour. Their hands, everywhere at once, began a thorough exploration of each other. Kneading tits, sliding hands beneath shirts to feel bare skin against their virgin fingers, nipping at each other’s neck, trailing hands lower, caressing crotches through thick denim, they touched whatever they could reach without giving up the kissing that became more and more passionate.

‘Finally breaking away, panting, their eyes serious but twinkling with mutual lust, they stood up …’

As he read, Mark, who knew the passage he was reciting so well that he really didn’t need to have the book in front of him, watched the girls’ bodies react; their teats hardening, their breasts swelling. Gratified that they hadn’t yet wavered from their position, he launched back into the manuscript, continuing to observe Anya and Clara carefully as he read …

‘Reaching out again, Becky dragged Gail’s top from her shoulders. Copying the action, Gail drew a long deep breath as she saw Becky’s black lace chemise, an exhalation that was echoed by Becky, whose emerald gaze had locked on to Gail’s bright red satin bra. Only a second’s visual appreciation passed, however, as, with unspoken understanding, they freed their breasts.

‘Gail’s hands leapt to her companion’s perfectly round yielding chest. As she made contact with Becky’s globes, the neat beige tips pushed back against her palms. Becky let out a husky groan of yearning, bringing her own hands to the other woman, her little fingers rubbing around Gail’s dark areolas in delectably torturous circles.

‘Desperate to find out if the taste of a tit was as she imaged it to be, Gail knocked Becky’s hands away, her lips rushing forward on a collision course for her guest’s right nipple. The texture of female flesh between her teeth sent a thrill gushing through her, turning Gail’s pussy from damp to wet as she gently kissed all around the teat. Savouring Becky’s sigh of contentment, Gail turned her caresses to pinches and bites, making her lover gasp as her hands continued their investigation of the mouth-watering body that was responding to her so readily. A voice at the back of Gail’s mind was asking her how the hell she knew what to do, but she ignored it, more concerned with continuing her research.

‘Becky’s arms hung limp at her sides as Gail pushed her back onto the sofa, lifted her hips, and began to pull down her jeans.

‘Gail’s throat became Sahara dry as she revealed Becky’s ruby and silver-studded naval. Pausing to kiss it, she continued removing the denims until she was faced with a beautiful, black lace-covered pussy. Nothing mattered now except seeing what lay under that small triangle of fabric. With a quick glance at Becky to make sure she still wanted to proceed, Gail pressed a firm palm over the knickers, feeling her stomach muscles quiver as she ran a single finger beneath the waistband. Becky’s breathing became laboured as Gail peeled the lace away from her crotch.

‘The smoothly shaven pussy that met Gail’s eyes seemed to ask for attention all on its own. Gail’s fingers obliged, examining its secret folds. Her touch revelled in the unfamiliar sensations, and her nose instantly loved the sweet aroma as her fingers uncovered the erect clit. Leaning closer, Gail blew air across its tip, making Becky whimper as moist lips met her pussy. Lapping up the sweet juices with delight, Gail’s hands snaked up Becky, massaging each breast.

‘Murmuring her pleasure with short mewls, Becky’s body began to jerk. Her involuntary movements increased as Gail speeded her caresses, gliding a finger inside the wet snatch, as Becky, with a cry of joy, came around the thin digit while Gail continued to stimulate her clit …’

Anya’s toes clenched as she fought the urge to shuffle her feet. Her entire body could feel the echo of Becky and Gail’s imagined stimulation. Before the reading had started, Anya had adopted the position experience had taught her she could maintain for a long time, with her hands together in front of her. Now, as Mark’s words slunk over her, the PA felt her sticky palms suction together. Resolute that she would not fail, she was equally desperate to touch Clara. Anya began to wish that she had focused her eyes on her lover’s feet rather than on her slim, porcelain waist and perfectly oval naval.

Clara, her neck bent, was studying the patch of carpet just in front of Anya’s painted toenails. Her hands, linked behind her back, dug into her palms as she did her best to block out Mark’s low, sensual voice; trying to think about anything but the intensely erotic scenario that was being read to them.

Distracting herself, Anya began to mull over where Mark had hidden the stopwatch. She was sure there’d be one hidden somewhere, counting off the seconds until either she or Clara caved in and moved. It was probably in his pocket, but Anya didn’t dare lift her gaze enough to see if the tell-tale circular bulge to his jeans pocket was there.

As Mark lingered over a paragraph detailing the fictional women licking each other out, Anya’s crotch twitched faster. She could almost feel the described contact for herself, and guessed from the visible tensing of her stomach muscles that Clara was fighting a similar battle.

Trying hard not to dwell on how wet her partner might be, and wishing she’d been bound so that her forced inactivity was easier, Anya attempted to picture the pile of paperwork on her desk, and the massive number of emails that would be cluttering up her inbox while she was away from the office. Yet her attempts at such practical thoughts were washed away by Mark’s kinky recital …

‘Gail couldn’t believe how incredible it felt, as a girl stroked her inner thighs and snatch with languid strokes of her agile tongue. Unable to keep her hands still, she reached down to the top of Becky’s head, but, unable to reach her, moved her fingers to her own breasts, massaging them in time to the gloriously frustrating movements between her legs …’

It was Clara’s foot that shifted first. Just a tiny fraction. If Mark hadn’t been expecting it then it might have gone unnoticed, but he remembered how Fantasy 2 had ended last time, with the minor wriggle of his housekeeper’s toes, and it was with an expressionless dip of his head that he witnessed history repeating itself.

Clara inwardly cursed her unbidden movement. She was sure she had managed to remain motionless for longer than she had last time, but the proximity of Anya, and the temptation of the words Mark had been weaving around them, had been too much.

Now that Clara had moved, Anya felt the tension ease from her rigid frame, and risked flexing her fingers a little. Mark’s cut-glass voice ripped through the sound of the soloist singing her haunting tones from the stereo. ‘I expected you to last longer, Miss Hooper. You have six months more experience than you had the last time you took this test.’

Instantly both girls became stock still in the face of their boss’s disappointment.

‘I have not finished reading. You will take one step closer to each other. You will not touch each other.’

Anya could almost taste Clara’s skin, it was so close, and the heady aroma of her partner’s snatch was wafting temptingly toward her. Mark resumed the torturously arousing monologue as she battled harder than ever not to grab the woman in front of her…

***

If you want to find out how Anya and Clara came to work for Mark, and what other challenges they have to endure, you can buy The Voyeur from –

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo

GooglePlay

Smashwords – THE VOYEUR IS HALF PRICE UNTIL 31st JULY

Happy reading everyone,

Kay xx

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