Kay Jaybee

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Something for the Weekend: The Fifth Floor

The weekend, let’s go to the The Fifth Floor  (The Perfect Submissive trilogy- Book One) and meet Miss Jess Sanders as she starts her adventure into the (so far unknown) world of the BDSM submissive…

…Jess was sat at her desk, a half eaten sandwich in one hand; the fingers of her other hand dancing over the computer keyboard. Laura watched her through the office window for a few moments before confidently stepping into the room, interrupting the clerk without hesitation. ‘Mr Davies informs me he has not yet had time to complete your preliminary tour of the hotel.’

Understanding precisely where the manageress intended to take her, Jess spoke carefully, ‘I’ve seen most of it, but not all.’

Without confirming the clerk’s suspicions, Laura said, ‘I have a few moments, so if you’d like to walk this way I’ll complete that area of your training.’ She pointed towards the office door, ‘You are bound to be asked for directions around the place by our guests and it doesn’t look very professional if a member of staff gets lost herself, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘I would, Mrs Peters.’

Although she’d now worked at the Fables for just over a week, Jess still hadn’t looked her boss in the eye once, a fact that sent a buzz of conviction through Mrs Peters; her initial instincts about the girl had been correct.

‘Are you happy here so far, Miss Sanders?’

‘Yes, Mrs Peters. Thank you.’ Jess muttered her response, almost managing to glance directly at her superior, but falling short at her shoulders. Laura’s heartbeat increased in response to the girl’s natural deference. Jess Sanders was just so perfect for what she had in mind.

As they walked towards the staff lift Laura attempted to improve the flow of conversation, ‘And I don’t think you have yet been introduced to all the other members of staff?’

‘Not yet, no.’ Again Jess spoke cautiously, and Laura knew from the expression on her face that she was both fearful and curious about meeting anyone who kept their business arrangements entirely to the Fables upper storey.

‘We are one member of staff down at the moment; one of my assistants has left us for pastures new. I’m searching for a replacement. Master Lee Philips, who works in the bar downstairs, helps me out as and when required, but it’s not an ideal arrangement. He has many other duties, and besides, the fifth floor guests frequently prefer the female touch.’

Following the clerk into the lift it was obvious that no small talk was going to come from her, so Laura calmly kept up her commentary. ‘My associate, Miss Sarah, should be on the premises by 10.00 each morning, unless she has had a complete night session, in which case she is not expected until 2.00 p.m. As I’ve said, Master Philips comes and goes, depending on our requirements and his bar and reception work. Miss Sarah has her first session of the day in a few moments, if we are lucky we should just catch the show.’

Visibly shrinking back, Jess noticed how Mrs Peters walked a little taller now they’d reached her domain. Her face was more set, her back straighter, and somehow she appeared even more intimidating than before. Pushing her hands into the deep pockets of her clinging knee-length black skirt, Jess hid the growing sheen of perspiration on her palms, while trying to ignore the fearful beat of her pulse.

Crossing the threshold of the room, into which she was being firmly steered by the elbow, felt like entering another world to Jess, or rather, another time. Manoeuvred towards a plush red velvet chaise longue, her eyes darting here and there, the clerk was pointedly sat down.

Trying to ignore the light but persistent pressure of Mrs Peters cool hand against her wrist, Jess took in the reproduction William Morris wallpaper, the heavy dark-wood chest of drawers, the floor to ceiling bookshelves, and the faded brown leather wing-backed armchair. Centre stage, only a few metres from where they sat, was a huge writing desk. Its top was inlaid with a square of leather, a portion of which was covered with blotting paper, an accompanying ink well, pots of ink, and nibbed pens.

Jess was reminded of a museum she’d once visited as a child, where rooms from a variety of different houses had been re-created from a number of historical periods. This room had Victorian study written all over it.

The silence was beginning to get to her as she waited, perched rather than sat, on the unyielding seat. A faint voice of hope at the back of her head kept telling her that all this had to be some sort of practical joke, but one glance at Mrs Peters made Jess reconsider. Her eyes kept drifting towards the study door. Whatever she had been brought here to witness surely couldn’t begin until someone came in. Twenty seconds later, each one ticked off by the hammer of Jess’s heart beating, the door swung back with a confident push.

‘Ah, Miss Sarah,’ Laura rose from her seat, a stern glare at Jess telling her not to move. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but Fables has a new member of staff, and I thought it would be a good idea to let her observe one of our sessions.’

Miss Sarah, her face powdered to an ultra-pale complexion, her curling hair pinned up in the style of a Victorian lady, her exquisite outfit historically accurate down to the small white buttons that fastened her stylish black boots, curtsied at once to her superior, ‘Of course, Mrs Peters.’

The stunningly slim woman glanced briefly at Jess, her grey gaze only lingering long enough to acknowledge the stranger, without taking in what she looked like or who she might be. Miss Sarah’s indifference, dismissing the office clerk as an unimportant factor in the room, made Jess feel smaller and more anxious than ever.

The agonising lull continued and Jess’s imagination began to run riot as Miss Sarah sat at the desk in preparation for her client’s arrival. Images of pock-skinned overweight men, panting loudly as they fucked the employees of the fifth floor against the furniture made Jess’s stomach churn, but there was no way out. With a quiet determination that Mrs Peters would have been surprised to know Jess possessed, she thought, if the other members of staff here have survived this part of the tour, then so can I.

As Mrs Peters returned to both the chaise lounge and her application of gentle restraint against the clerk’s arm, Jess’s body stiffened. Someone was knocking on the door. Not daring to face her employer, Jess focused on the figure that, after being granted permission to enter, walked meekly into the study.

If he hadn’t had his neck bent, his face to the floor with respect for Miss Sarah, who greeted him with a sharp ‘Good Morning’, Jess judged he would have been quite tall. And he was young; not the sweaty, aged bank manager Jess had conjured up in her head, but a man in his late 20s or early 30s, with a shaven face, short spiked ginger hair, and well built limbs. He was dressed as a servant, perhaps a stable hand. Jess was automatically reminded of Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Gulping against her dehydrated throat, unwilling to see the sex that she was sure was about to follow, the clerk dropped her eyes, only to have her chin roughly jerked upwards by Mrs Peters, ‘No, child. You will observe. You will learn.’

A patina of panic gripped Jess. Every hair on the back of her neck stood to attention. Until that moment it had been unreal. She hadn’t let go of the hope that at any minute someone was going to turn around and say, ‘OK, Jess, it’s just a joke. We play it on all the new girls. Let’s grab a coffee.’ No one did though. No one was saying anything…

eBooks 

US Kindle- https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077XW59P2?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660

UK Kindle- https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B077XW59P2/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1512491415&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Fifth+Floor+Kay+Jaybee

Canada Kindle- https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B077XW59P2/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1512491682&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Fifth+Floor+Kay+jaybee

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/765157

B&N – ebook – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-fifth-floor-kay-jaybee/1127595291?ean=2940154644478 

Paperbacks

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Fifth-Floor-Erotic-Perfect-Submissive/dp/1973344386/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1512590868&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Fifth+Floor+Kay+Jaybee

Amazon.com – https://www.amazon.com/Fifth-Floor-Erotic-Perfect-Submissive/dp/1973344386/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1512591770&sr=1-2&keywords=The+Fifth+Floor+by+Kay+Jaybee

Happy reading everyone,

Kay xxxx

 

Something for the weekend: A Kink a Day Book Three

Heavy week at work? Why not sit down (lie down?) and enjoy a moment’s full on kink.

Something for the weekend?

A Kink a Day – Book Three

From the extreme kink of a wedding at a city S&M club, a deliciously erotic rendition on a double bass, an imaginative take on a set of brushes, and beyond, A Kink a Day Book Three provides eight bite-sized moments of lust-fuelled distraction. One for every day of the week—plus an additional fantasy thrown in to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.
(A Kink a Day Book Three contains stories previously published Quick Kink One and Two.)

On Show

As the first of the ties was attached to her ankles, Pippa still wasn’t sure what had broken inside her.

The moment she’d walked through the door to work that evening and seen the spreader board waiting for its next customer, her iron will had caved in. Now, as her body was pushed against the cold wood, it felt more alive than ever before.

Her mind, however, was in terrified freefall. She was about to become part of the image that haunted her, the one that gave her sleepless nights and erotic dreams, that featured so strongly in her head whenever she was having sex; the one she was afraid of, and so utterly and totally turned on by.

The jeering from the crowd which had gathered around Pippa petered into a reverend hush. She could see a queue forming out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t dare look directly at it. All she could concentrate on was the warm nimble male hands that’d smoothed her skin as they’d stripped her, and were now securing the last of her limbs to the portable x-shaped board, which had been wheeled into the centre of the room.

With her ankles and wrists encased in short metal chains, locked with little room to manoeuvre against the heavy oak frame, Pippa felt vulnerable, sexy, excited, and petrified all at once.

Keeping her green eyes lowered, she moved her wrists a fraction, testing the bonds. Her long ginger hair fell over her eyes. Being unable to sweep it back from her face abruptly bought home just how helpless she was, and her already fast pulse tripled its pace in tense anticipation of what was going to happen to her over the following hour.

The only way to escape from the spreader was to say the password that had been whispered to her when the confinement began. She’d never heard anyone use the escape password, and she was determined not to be the first to wimp out despite the panic swirling in her gut. Pippa kept reminding herself how badly she needed to know what it was like to be the subject of so much erotic attention. She couldn’t see any other way of ending the dreams that plagued her night after night and day after day…

****

You can read the rest of the story in A Kink a Day- Book Three.

Don’t forget you can find all three books from the series here – mybook.to/AKinkaDayTrilogy 

Happy reading

Kay xx

Seductive Songs By Ria Restrepo

I’m delighted to welcome Ria Restrepo to my blog today to talk Chemical Sex…and the power of Seductive Songs.

Don’t miss out on the giveaway!

Over to you Ria…

Music has inspired me throughout my life on a number of levels, but especially in my writing. Whatever you’re thinking or feeling at any given point in your life, there’s probably a song that expresses it—maybe even better than you can articulate yourself.

I know there are times when I’m not entirely sure what’s going on in my head. Then I’ll hear a song that captures it exactly, so much so that it can be a little freaky. I think that goes to show how universal our thoughts and feelings are.

We all like to think we’re special or different in some way—and we are. But we’re also more alike than we tend to acknowledge. As humans, we all love and we all grieve. We all have dreams and disappointments. At times, we’re filled with overwhelming joy and the deepest despair. We all have failings we need to overcome and desires we yearn to make a reality.

Whatever you’re feeling, you’re undoubtedly not alone. And music often reminds us of that. While the meanings of some songs are crystal clear, others are more impressionistic, leaving plenty of room for interpretation. This allows listeners to mold the songs to fit their own personal point of view.

Sometimes, I’ll look up songs on websites where people discuss their meanings. I’m often surprised that songs I thought were pretty straightforward, others saw in a very different light. As much commonality as there is among us, our individual experiences tend to shape the way we look at things, causing wonderful variability.

Before I ever took my writing seriously, music inspired me. The R.E.M. song “Stand” was the premise for my high school salutatorian speech. I thought it tapped into what the other graduates and myself were probably experiencing at the time. Namely, the idea of direction and where we were going as we entered the “real world.”

Over the years, a number of songs have inspired stories, including Norah Jones’s “Come Away with Me,” Bob Dylan’s “Shelter from the Storm,” and Billy Joel’s “Just the Way You Are”—just to name a few. Some songs and the stories they inspired are more loaded with meaning than others. But some are just pure smutty fun.

A story inspired by the Divinyl’s “I Touch Myself,” which I posted on my blog, is a great example of a hot and naughty good time. Although there are some deeper declarations of love in the song, I focused on the line, “When I think about you, I touch myself.” In my story, the protagonist makes a provocative video of herself performing to the song and sends it to her lover while he’s at work.

When Oleander Plume asked me to write a story for Chemical [se]X 2: Just One More, I immediately said, “Yes!” I loved the first volume and was incredibly thrilled the Sisters in Smut [http://www.sistersinsmut.com] wanted to include me in the second volume. However, I had absolutely no idea what I was going to write—just that it had to feature aphrodisiac chocolates and have clear consent. It was the first time I had to write a made-to-order story.

While it was simmering in the back of my mind for a few days, I worked on other things. As is often the cause, I was listening to rock music and the Aerosmith song “Love in an Elevator” came on. I immediately thought, “Hot sex in an elevator!” And so began my story “Elevator Confidential.”

In honor of the song, I named my protagonist Jackie, a name mentioned in the lyrics. There are a few other nods to the song in the story. It talks about “workin’ like a dog for da bossman” and proclaims, “I really need a girl like an open book.”

The story starts out with Jackie having a really bad day thanks to her boss, who happens to be her father. As the story develops, it’s clear that Jackie is a very open book. At least, she is with Walden, her longtime secret crush—and her father’s best friend and business partner.

There’s another commonality between the song and the story, but I don’t want to give away any spoilers.

Below is a little taste of “Elevator Confidential,” which is now available in Chemical [se]X 2: Just One More.

Even as hungry as she was, chocolates that fine were to be savored, not scarfed like M&M’s. She brought one of the tiny cocks to her mouth and filled her lungs with the enticing aroma. Unable to wait any longer, she sunk her teeth into the hard, outer shell—only to be surprised when filling spurted out. Giggling, she used her free hand to capture a runaway stream of sticky sweetness before it dripped off her chin and ruined her favorite red silk blouse.

Jackie admired the wicked brilliance of filling naughty chocolates with white cream. Before any more of it oozed out, she put the rest of the morsel in her mouth, but let it dissolve on her tongue. Her taste buds exploded with the flavor of bitter chocolate and a sweet, minty confection that had a trace of something else. She didn’t recognize the unknown ingredient, but it was definitely intriguing.

Humming with pleasure, she licked and sucked her messy fingers clean until every drop was consumed. “They’re delicious, but messy.”

 When Jackie looked up at Walden, she froze at his heavy-lidded expression. If he looked hungry before, he looked positively ravenous now.

 “You did that on purpose.”

 She knew what he meant. As much as she’d love to take credit for teasing him, she was innocent in this instance. Still, Jackie was smart enough to seize an opportunity when she saw one.

Giveaway

Enter to win a free e-book copy of Chemical [se]X 2: Just One More and a $10 Amazon gift card! Just follow this link:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/fc25e6701/

Buy Links

Main Chemical [se]X 2: Just One More landing page: http://www.sistersinsmut.com/chemical-sex-v2-just-one-more-landing

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07RJJ5RGT

Amazon UK: https://tinyurl.com/y26uyka4

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/938990

Barnes & Noble: https://bit.ly/2M22Gyr

Bio:

Ria Restrepo may appear to be a mild-mannered bookworm who drinks too much coffee and spends most days tapping away on her computer. But beneath the quiet exterior lurks a filthy-minded sex kitten with a lurid and lascivious imagination. Writing erotica, romance, and all the shades in between, she truly enjoys entertaining readers with stories about strong women exploring and celebrating their desires—especially when they involve dominant men with a sensitive side. Her stories have appeared in Spy Games: Thrilling Spy Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica of the Year: Volume 1, Chemical [se]X 2: Just One More, and The Sexy Librarian’s Dirty 30: Volume 3.

Website: http://www.riarestrepo.com

Blog: http://riarestrepo.blogspot.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RiaRestrepo

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RiaRestrepoAuthorPage

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/riarestrepo

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/riarestrepo

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13703436.Ria_Restrepo

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/ria-restrepo

Many thanks for coming to visit today Ria.

Good luck to everyone entering the competition!

Kay xx

 

 

 

 

Something for the Weekend: Wednesday on Thursday

I’m delighted to announce that my ‘mind game’ menage/erotic romance, Wednesday on Thursday is now available to buy from a whole host of platforms, rather than just Amazon!

To celebrate, I thought I’d make this decidedly kinky tale the feature of this week’s #somethingfortheweekend 

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…

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 café, 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 Now

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

Happy reading,

Kay x

Something for the Bank Holiday Weekend: Equipment

For this week’s ‘Something for the Weekend’ feature, I thought I’d share a little from my three part collection: Equipment and other stories

This gives you one BDSM romance/ kink story for every day of the Bank Holiday.

Equipment

Blurb

To his lust driven delight, Lee Cooper’s opinion that his girlfriend simply doesn’t have the Equipment to take control in the bedroom is quickly and deliciously.

Meanwhile, Kim is sick of her gorgeous neighbour Jack bringing home a non-stop string of unsuitable women to screw, while completely failing to notice the girl right under his nose. Taking extreme measures she sets out to prove she is more than just The Girl Next Door.

Mark’s girlfriend is Searching For Her– the perfect woman to make her lover’s dreams come true. A quest which leads her into the path of more than one willing young lady…

****

Here’s an little snippet from Equipment to ease you into the weekend…

The moment I saw his naked arse, I knew that I wanted to fuck it, and I told him so. It was the first time I’d seen Lee Cooper unsure of himself. For a split second a veil of uncertainty, possibly even fear, had crossed his generally ultra-confident square features. It didn’t last though, and he was soon shrugging my statement off with a lad-ish laugh, ‘you ain’t got the equipment baby,’ as he eased his solid cock into my willing body.

I started working part-time at the garage, where Lee is employed as a mechanic, three months ago. The first thing he said to me, as his clear brown eyes appraised my slight frame and red plaited hair was, ‘I’m looking forward to pulling on those pigtails honey.’ From anybody else I wouldn’t have taken a comment like that, but somehow from Lee it was okay. He exuded a sort of sexual confidence, and the instant and silent knowledge that eventually we would fuck radiated from his every pore. It would have been foolish of me to deny that unspoken understanding, and I privately looked forward to the day I’d discover if the tattoos that adorned his muscular arms, extended to his chest and down his legs.

That was three flirtatious months ago, and it had been fun letting the erotic tension build between us, getting more intense as the weeks of inaction ticked by, but finally, Lee’s resolve had broken. He told me, as he hammered an impatient fist on my front door during his lunch hour, that he’d been changing the oil in a beat-up old motorcar, when he’d realised he couldn’t hold on another moment.

After the glorious frisson of the wait, there was always the risk that the reality wouldn’t live up to the expectation. I hadn’t been disappointed however, far from it.

I smiled to myself as Lee dragged his grubby boiler suit back on, and disappeared down my garden path at a run. His words echoed in my head, “You ain’t got the equipment baby.” A wicked twinkle began to shine in my eyes at the prospect of what lay ahead for the unsuspecting mechanic, and speaking across the empty room, I said, ‘Well actually Mr Lee Cooper, I have all the equipment we could possibly need…’

The thought of his tight arse, of claiming it as my own, of taking control of Lee for a while, and perhaps robbing him of a portion of his macho-attitude, grew within me, and I began to lay plans for the temporary domination of this alpha-male.

On Lee’s next visit, predictably the following lunchtime, I embarked on a mission to both enjoy myself, and to lull him into a false sense of security, neither mentioning how delicious I found his backside, nor my eventual intentions for it. As his calloused hands made their way over my naked chest, pinching my nipples with exquisitely painful squeezes, I groaned with genuine pleasure. Stroking the beautifully toned body that pushed against mine, I relished the sight of the tanned multi-tattooed chest I’d so recently discovered.

It was on Lee’s fourth visit that I kept my hands exclusively on his backside. Patting it gently, smoothing it, and caressing it, in a totally non-threatening way, as my new lover pumped himself swiftly in and out of me.

On the fifth visit Lee announced he’d had a dream about tying me up. His face, when I told him that he could do just that, was a picture. I’m not sure if he was more turned on by the fact he could do anything he liked to me, while my hands were secured behind my naked back, or by the feeling of power my helplessness gave him. I suspect the latter. As Lee’s warm tongue explored my stomach, and ducked skilfully between my spread legs, I wallowed submissively in the blissful feelings that engulfed me.

During visit number six, a rare after work encounter, while Lee was both fucking and smacking my arse with stingingly wonderful efficiency, the last few parts of my plan fell into place, and I knew that my need to take his firm neat backside was reaching the point of obsession.

 

A little over two weeks after Lee had first turned up on my doorstep, I decided the time had come to act. Laying out my sex toys in a neat row near my pillow, I hid them from view with my duvet. Removing the clutter of clothes from the battered old armchair I keep in the corner of my bedroom, I adjusted its position so that it was at the foot of the bed. Then I took off my regular jeans and t-shirt, and put on my tight black Lycra bodice and matching knickers. The caress of the clinging material against my flesh was enough to increase my pulse-rate, and boot-up the arousal I had been so carefully keeping in check.

Lee’s distinctive knock on the door came at almost exactly seven o’clock as we’d arranged. I smiled quietly to myself at his promptness and, wrapping myself in a black silk robe, descended the stairs to collect my unwitting victim.

‘Wow babe,’ his appreciative eyes ran over my robed frame, ‘like the silk.’ He reached forward, and I allowed Lee to engulf me briefly in his arms, his stubble scratching my cheeks as his mouth came to mine. Then, I broke away from his magnetic warmth, holding him at arms length.

‘You like what you see?’ I grinned at Lee, my green eyes reflecting into his brown ones, ‘you want to see more?’…

****

If you’d like to find out what happens to Lee next, you can buy Equipment from all good e-retailers- including…

Happy reading,

Kay xx

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