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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

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 week I’m sharing a story from my sexy anthology,  A Kink a Day Book Two 

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
Smashwords 

Happy reading!

Kay xx

Something for the Weekend: Tied to the Kitchen Sink

If your weekend is calling out for some seriously kinky reading matter, then why not take peep inside my collection of 3 quickie BDSM romance,

Tied to the Kitchen Sink.

Tied to the Kitchen Sink

BLURB- Will can hardly believe his eyes when he receives the ultimate in birthday gifts. Karen, the girl of his fantasies, has been left tied to his kitchen sinks’ taps, ready to be played with exactly as he chooses. Meanwhile, Becky is having a spank filled first day in her new job, and a BDSM curious male allows himself to be lured into a dominatrix’s layer, by the tempting lyrics of a truly bad poem. Whether bound in ropes or handcuffs, as they are shackled to the bed, kitchen sink, or within the confines of a fetishists supply cupboard, the willing victims of Tied to the Kitchen Sinks’ kinky S&M and BDSM action, find their darkest and sexiest dreams coming true.

There are three short stories tucked within the e-pages of my anthology, Tied to the Kitchen Sink, Becky and The Bad Poet.

It is into the middle story, Becky, which takes place in a very unusual office, where even the most minor mistake is punished, that I’m taking you today.

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

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

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

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

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

****

If you fancy discovering what that blotting paper was used for, just how awful my poetry can be, and exactly how the kitchen sink was misused, you can buy Tied to the Kitchen Sink at Amazon UK, Amazon.com, and all good e-retailers.

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

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

Happy reading!

Kay xx

 

 

 

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