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Focus On: The Collector

The Collector was my very first solo work of fiction – it will always hold a special place in my heart.

Blurb:

Gathering salaciously erotic stories against an everyday backdrop of coffee shops, restaurants and bus trips, The Collector documents a wide variety of sexual encounters as she travels across Great Britain.

The Collector’s research takes her into every arena of the erotic experience, from lust, submission and dominance, to voyeurism and beyond.

Are you brave enough to see if it was your supposedly private conversation she overheard—and then wrote down?

Buy Now

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
Apple Books UK
Apple Books US
Kobo
Smashwords

Here are just a few of the lovely reviews I’ve had for The Collector

THE COLLECTOR may be the hottest and coolest book I’ve read this year.
The author collects stories. Private stories. Raunchy, wicked, filthy, crazy, sexy, hot, private, erotic stories. Sometimes people tell her their stories, sometimes she eavesdrops discreetly, once in awhile the stories are hers. In THE COLLECTOR, she shares more than twenty of those stories for us lucky voyeurs. Some of these tales are sweet, like the two women who realize their feelings for one another are more than friendship in Late Developer, and some are wild, like the alcohol-fueled gangbang experience of an escort’s first gig in Tequila. There’s loads of BDSM, anonymous encounters, some threesomes, foursomes and moresomes, creative uses for foodstuffs and inanimate objects, girl on girl, guy on guy and some solo action, and even an interesting 90’s political era “define sex” encounter. So sit back and relax, grab a bottle of merlot and settle in for some quick and dirty stories that will curl your toes.
WOW, what a GREAT book! Ms. Jaybee, the true author of THE COLLECTOR, honestly has me curious if she is, in fact, this collector. Her intros were so well written and believable that I fell under an erotic spell while reading. I didn’t LOVE every story, but I really did at least LIKE almost all of them for one reason or another. My favorites were Treasure, where a woman invites a friend of a friend back to her place so he can discover her hidden treasure; and Crushed, where a 2 (and a half) people in a standstill crowd experienced a hedonistic anonymous encounter. If I heard real life stories like these on a regular basis, I swear I would die from a state of constant arousal! … ‘ The Romance Reviews

Such a unique book.  The title was perfect for this book.  The Collector.  I know you are asking how I call an erotic book unique.  Well, it is because the author has such a wonderful way with writing.  I admit this is not my first Kay Jaybee book, and it will certainly not be my last.  Kaybee, is such a wonderful author.  The stories she writes are not just all sex, they each have meaning, plot, characters, challenges.  This book is no exception to her wonderful work.  Another amazing read by Jaybee. Reviewed by Bunny Reviews

Was it you who was sitting at that coffee shop with your best friend, sharing the details of your dirty escapades? Were you telling the story about the time your employer found you polishing his floor in only your panties? Or was it the story about how your boss likes to eat candy from out of your pussy? Or were you telling her about the night you were tied up in a dungeon and made to watch your boyfriend fuck your best friend?

Did you happen to notice the nondescript woman in the corner? Yes the petite one, with chestnut hair, the one scribbling in her notebook. I don’t suppose you would have recognized her anyway—few know her face. It was Kay Jaybee the erotic writer, a collector of sorts.

The book is an entertaining and provocative glance into the sex-lives of an eclectic selection people, each with a kinky tale to tell.

From the truly bizarre—“Sweets”  is a tale of a submissive whose dominant partner insists on stuffing her pussy with licorice before getting her off.

To the super sexy—“New Territory”  is the story of how the collector herself takes one of her subjects home, having her way with him with barely a word exchanged.

To the truly intense—“Tequila” tells the story of a woman who is gang-raped, then rescued from the gutter and eagerly fucked by the barman who witnessed the whole scene.

Each a unique sexual exploration. Although each story is delightfully different from the next, the underlying concept remains the same; Kay Jaybee gets her fingers deep into the sex lives of strangers, acquaintances and friends, most often from her favorite perch in the coffeehouse. There is no need to peep into your neighbor’s bedroom windows now, just open the book and find out what’s going on in the pants of those around you.

Kay Jaybee writes in her epilogue “If I have learnt anything from putting together this collection, it’s that you cannot tell what someone is into by just looking at them.”

Just as understated as its author, the cover of The Collector lends no suspicion of anything untoward or erotic – you could be reading a chapbook of love poetry for all anyone would know. Enjoy this book in your favorite coffeehouse and no one will be the wiser. Reviewed by Jordan LaRousse,  Oysters and Chocolate 

…the tales aren’t about desert islands or exotic places we can only dream about. It could be real. Your neighbour could be doing it. Your colleagues could be doing it. That woman in the supermarket. Anyone, anywhere. And for me, that made it very, very sexy.

I also loved the brevity of the stories. They don’t need to be any longer. They’re just snippets of life; naughty sex scenes. There’s no “they met, they fell in love and fell into bed” type thing. No character development is needed. It’s just pure, unadulterated filth. And it’s fabulous. Highly recommended.

Reviewed by Erotica For All

“An exciting, saucy gathering of short tales gathered from overheard conversations, willing sources and personal experiences of The Collector. Ranging from sweetly sexy to moderately kinky to downright darkly filthy. This is a must read for all erotica fans. My personal favourite – Studio Girl. Another superb selection from Ms. Jaybee.”  Amazon

Sex and Sexuality in Tudor England: Aphrodisiacs

I don’t often often feature nonfiction on my blog, but today I make a worthy exception.

This book –  Sex and Sexuality in Tudor England – by fellow novelist and historian, Carol McGrath, promises to be something special. So, if you have a fascination with the Tudor period, this is a must read.

This blog is the first on a blog tour.

Over to you Carol..

There has long been an appetite by readers and film viewers for the Tudor period as portrayed in novels, sumptuous costume dramas and documentary film. Have you ever been curious about the Tudors’ view of sex and sexuality? My recently published book Sex and Sexuality in Tudor England reveals myths and truths about how our Tudor antecedents conducted their sexual relationships romantic affairs, and marriages. Amongst many interesting titbits I discovered whilst researching this book aphrodisiacs as used or thought about in Tudor times intrigued me.

An aphrodisiac is a food, drink or drug that increases libido and enhances sexual pleasure and performance. These aids to sexual performance have been recorded throughout history. One of the earliest treatments for impotence appears in an ancient Hindu text known as Sushruta Samhita c.600 BC. It suggests powders of sesame and sali rice should be mixed with saindhara salt and a quantity of the juice of sugar cane mixed with hog’s lard and cooked with clarified butter. Medieval and Tudor people believed the food they consumed could influence their sex lives; it was all part of the humoral notion. They thought, according to medical theory, that food and drink was one of the things on which health should depend. A poor diet could cause illness but a patient could be restored to health by changes in diet. This sounds rather familiar.

However, they also believed that food and drink could solve sexual problems including impotence and infertility. Medieval medical texts contained references to foods and sexual advice for the late medieval man. Constantine the African was a translator of Arabic medieval texts into Latin. He lived in Salerno, Italy’s medical centre during the medieval era. His text on human fertility, De Coitu, has a section on foods and herbs which provoke desire. These were foods that were likely to generate semen and incite a man to intercourse. He also suggested foods to dry up and diminish semen so that men could eat according to whichever condition they suffered- whether too much desire or too little of it. Medieval doctors believed semen was a processed form of blood and therefore derived from food.

Three types of food were conducive to the production of semen and were grouped as nourishing foods, foods especially windy and foods that are warm and moist. Chickpeas contain all three and were considered an aphrodisiac. Other foods they thought drew out and produced semen were fresh meat, pepper, wine, brains, and egg yolks. However, cold foods such as fish, cucumber and lettuce might repress, impede or thicken semen and therefore destroy lust.

Aphrodisiac recipes were included in handbooks and regimes to help Tudor men with their sexual problems. Cloves in milk and blueberry juice, the brains of small sparrows, grease surrounding the kidneys of a freshly killed billy goat, all these might treat impotence. On the other hand, rue, powdered and added to a potion, could be drunk to dry out sperm, and the juice of water lilies taken for forty days might take care of the over-sexed problem.

The oyster is the most well-known and enduring of aphrodisiacs. During the sixteenth century oysters came into their own as a libidoenhancing culinary food. In 1566 Alain Chartier suggested oysters ‘doe provoke lecherie.’ Pickled oysters were sold in brothels in 1646. It is likely they were also sold in brothels during the previous century as a sex-inducing food. This no doubt stems from the fact that an oyster has a resemblance to the vulva with soft folds of pink, salty flesh with nestling pearls. It was slang for vulva during the sixteenth century and later the figure of an oyster girl selling them on the streets became associated with sex workers. There has been no scientific evidence that oysters are an aphrodisiac although they are a healthy food. Shellfish, though, are associated with Aphrodite-Venus who was allegedly born from the sea and appears in Botticelli’s Birth of Venus.

DID YOU KNOW ?

An anophrodisiac, the opposite of an aphrodisiac, was intended to supress libido and impair sexual function. Anophrodisiacs fell into three categories: starving the body, cooling the body and sedating the body. Sedating might be achieved through fasting and rigorous exercise. Early Christian saints regularly fasted to purify the body and monks would starve for long periods to control their sexual hunger and desire for food.

Regimen Studies by Maino de Maineri suggests the man who wished to avoid the production of semen and repress lust should make use of cold foods such as lentil water cooled with cauliflower seeds, water lily and lettuce seeds, lettuce water made slightly vinegary, or seeds of purslane. Camphor was considered useful to dry out lustful parts and if rubbed on the penis might keep the member flaccid. Spicy hot food could inflame the senses but cucumbers were cool and bland and even though phallic in shape were considered an effective anophrodisiac.

In the sixteenth century Francis Rabelais suggested, in addition to the benefits of water lily seeds, willow twigs, hemp stalks, woodbine, honeysuckle, tamarisk, mandrake, and the dried out skin of a hippo. In a way, Rabelais was sending up medieval quackery.

I am not sure I would want to put much store in any of the remedies above. This information carries a health warning. Don’t try it at home!

You can buy Sex and Sexuality in Tudor England here https://tinyurl.com/2p9ayfca

Bio

Following a first degree in English and History, Carol McGrath completed an MA in Creative Writing from The Seamus Heaney Centre, Queens University Belfast, followed by an MPhil in English from University of London. The Handfasted Wife, first in a trilogy about the royal women of 1066 was shortlisted for the RoNAS in 2014. The Swan-Daughter and The Betrothed Sister complete this highly acclaimed trilogy. Mistress Cromwell, a best-selling historical novel about Elizabeth Cromwell, wife of Henry VIII’s statesman, Thomas Cromwell, published by Headline in 2020. The Silken Rose, first in a Medieval She-Wolf Queens Trilogy, featuring Ailenor of Provence, was published on 2nd April 2020. This was followed by The Damask Rose. The Stone Rose will be published April 2022 completing the Trilogy. Carol is writing Historical non-fiction as well as fiction. Sex and Sexuality in Tudor England was published in January 2022.

***

Many thanks for visiting today Carol, good luck with your new book and your blog tour.

Kay x

(This blog also features on my www.jennykane.co.uk website)

Something for the weekend: A Kink a Day Book Four

This week I’m sharing something from my latest anthology-

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: Not Her Type

It’s time to enjoy some weekend smut.

This week I’m sharing the beginning of my hot delivery man erotica,

Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures of a Delivery Man

(copyright- Kay Jaybee and 1001NightsPress)Not Her Type

Tuesday – It Begins

What the hell am I doing? I’m a good girl; I just don’t do things like this.

A tiny fraction of Jenny’s conscience screamed at her. The remainder of her brain sent her hands on a thorough exploration of the densely haired chest that had unexpectedly appeared from beneath her companion’s polo-shirt. The fact that Jenny had never liked men with hairy chests seemed irrelevant.

Standing in front of her, diving a hand under Jenny’s top, John squeezed her left nipple hard, wonderfully hard, making her squeal with pain-tingling gratification. Removing her shirt at top speed, John freed her breasts from their confinement.

Moving as if on auto-pilot, Jenny’s fingers visited his trousers’ waistband, but in her haste she couldn’t get his belt undone. Rescuing her from her embarrassment with a smile, John mumbled something about it always being difficult to open and undid it himself. Jenny barely heard him as a neat pair of charcoal grey boxers appeared, swiftly followed by—Oh My God—the most beautiful dick she had seen in years, perhaps ever.

As she knelt before him, the voice in Jenny’s head continued its rant, reminding her that she hated giving blowjobs. Since her first experience as a college student, she had neither liked the taste of cock, nor the sensation of being gagged. Now however, working on instincts she never knew she had, Jenny took John deep within her throat. She felt his fingers drag urgently through her knotty, brown hair, raking her scalp as she greedily worked him around her mouth.

“Hell girl, have you any idea how often I’ve dreamt of you doing this?” John confessed. “Night after night I wank about you, about you holding me in your throat like this.”

Jenny was consumed with a perverse pride as she listened to John’s words—making her wonder if she should admit to the stolen moments she’d spent alone with a silver vibrator and her own filthy imaginings. Imaginings contrary to her normal fantasies; fantasies that often featured him.

His penis felt fantastic in her mouth, but the restless ache in Jenny’s pussy was becoming unbearable, and she pulled away, panting. The instant she let go of his shaft, John tugged her back to her feet and grasped her butt, kneading it in a way that would give her bruises for days to come, while kissing her as if his life depended on it.

Conveniently forgetting that she didn’t like the feel of stubble against her skin, Jenny relished the burn of his unshaven face grazing her, scraping her cheeks as their lips and teeth clashed together.

Her head buzzed, and her nipples were tickled by his chest hairs, and Jenny began to feel as if she were overdosing on desire. She badly wanted to slow everything down but, at the same time, she needed to go faster. She wasn’t far from climax, and the mere idea of their illicit situation was enough to send Jenny to the very edge of orgasm.

Recognizing how close she was, John shoved his customer’s knickers unceremoniously to her ankles. “I want to see you on your hands and knees,” he ordered.

Sinking against the carpet as instructed, Jenny’s breathing snagged as she heard the sharp rip of a condom packet being opened. Seconds later, Jenny found her courier’s thick cock sliding into her from behind. She was about to tell him how fantastically full she felt when John wiped all coherent thought from Jenny’s head by jamming his thumb up her arse.

Nuzzling his mouth against Jenny’s neck, John thrust against her, holding her hips as they frantically moved together. Trembling, Jenny’s knees began to buckle, and her elbows quaked. Seeing she was about to collapse to the floor, John eased out of her body, and flipped her onto her back, before plunging his dick inside her again. She clung onto his tattooed arms (ignoring her lifelong aversion to body art), relishing in the glorious warmth of her orgasm, as he shot his spunk into her naked body.

As soon as their breathing levels returned to normal, John knelt close to Jenny, teasing out the springy curls of her hair as he spoke, “I’m sorry Jen. I don’t like just walking out on you, but I have to go. I’m behind with my rounds.” Jenny watched her courier dress with lightning speed, leaving in a flurry of promises and assurances that he’d return the following week.

The living room seemed so large, so empty once John’s bulky frame had gone. Stunned and disheveled, Jenny stared at the space around her as delayed shock kicked in.

How the hell had that happened?

 It had been years since Jenny had had sex. Twelve years, in fact; if you discounted one brief and unsatisfactory encounter that occurred three years ago. That was four thousand, three hundred, and eighty days of a self-imposed embargo after one-too-many broken hearts. She had survived by surrounding herself with friends, reading hundreds of erotica books, and giving in to countless masturbation sessions. But now, out of nowhere, right in the middle of her lounge,  , when she should have been sitting at her little desk checking other peoples’ accounts, she’d been thoroughly and expertly fucked.

Standing perfectly motionless, and very aware of her pulse pounding against her chest in the eerie quiet, Jenny tried to figure out what on earth had just happened. How their usual coffee break, with each of them sitting on either side of her dining table, had developed into a semi-naked romp on the sofa.

John had been in her home for only thirty minutes, and twenty of those had been spent discussing the DVDs that he’d come to deliver, just as he did every Tuesday. Then, he’d said something about how much he enjoyed their weekly chats, how hers was the only home where he was received as a friend, and how he always felt strange leaving her without so much as a hug.

Thinking back, trying to make sense of it all, Jenny thought that perhaps she’d laughed nervously when he’d said that, and told him she’d liked their “putting the world to rights” time as well.

That was when he’d actually hugged her for real, and she’d looked up into his wide, dark brown eyes and, in all of her thirty-three years, she had never felt a twist of lust like the one she felt then. It had burnt into her like some sort of erotic radiation.

How did I not see that coming? How bloody naive have I become? Jenny wondered. Shit, I don’t even know if he’s single…It’s been so long since I had a quick fuck. Too long…Hell, now I want another one, and soon. Damn.

Running upstairs to her bedroom, Jenny stripped off her hastily donned clothes and stared critically into the full-length mirror. Do I look different? No, my arms are still a touch too flabby, my backside a little too big, and my skin too pale.

She felt different though. A bit like the girl she used to be, when she’d been a student. When she’d been braver.

As Jenny carried on staring at her reflection, she allowed her hands to trace the outline of her body, a body that was already infused with the heady aftershocks of being totally seen to. Flashbacks of her past assailed her. Things she’d consigned to the back of her mind and nailed up into a little box, never to be opened again—parts of her life that she had long since given up on.

Losing all concept of time as she stood there, naked, still able to feel the mark of his fingers on her flesh, Jenny shook her head, trying to dismiss the memories that her body’s unscheduled reawakening had brought to the surface. She wondered just how many customers John had seduced with those dangerous eyes. How many other sets of fingertips had tripped lightly over the Japanese-styled characters tattooed on his muscular arms?

“Let’s face it,” she spoke sternly to her reflection, “that was just a one-off. Next week he’ll just want a quick coffee as usual.” Doing her best to pull herself together, Jenny unhooked her wrap from the back of her bedroom door. Heading to the shower, her wits were a tattered mass of contradictions—the elation she felt from the astounding sex was at odds with the very clear proclamation that was niggling at the back of her head. Jenny honey, he just isn’t your type. He isn’t even close!

***

If you want to know what happens next (and I can promise you one hell of a kinky ride), you can buy Not Her Type in either eBook or paperback form from….

Links-

Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Not-Her-Type-Adventures-ebook/dp/B00C8PDEE4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365345730&sr=8-1&keywords=Not+Her+TYpe+kay+jaybee 

Amazon.com – http://www.amazon.com/Not-Her-Type-Adventures-ebook/dp/B00C8PDEE4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365345892&sr=8-1&keywords=Not+Her+Type+kay+jaybee

1001 NightsPress- http://1001nightspress.com/#!/page_KayJaybee

Happy reading!!

Kay

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…

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

Happy reading,

Kay x

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