Kay Jaybee

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Focus On: The Collector

By

On March 4, 2022

In BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance

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

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On February 19, 2022

In historical sexuality, nonfiction, Thoughts

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)

Opening Lines with Mia Ryder: Downtime

By

On February 17, 2022

In BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance, gay erotica, Opening Lines Blog, Uncategorized

It’s been far to long since I had an Opening Lines feature on this blog!

I’m putting that right today with the first 500 words – exactly – from the fabulous Mia Ryder, whose latest hot release, Downtime, is out now!

ALL ABOUT DOWNTIME

“Oh. My. Gay. God. The atmospheric opening got my spine tingling, which was just a taster for what else would be tingling moments later. ‘Downtime’ will have you on the edge of your seat, and edging in other ways before the story climaxes. Mia’s first gay erotica is not to be missed.” – Drew Hubbard, Pride Reads

Fresh from his ordeals in the HQ re-education centre and then with Raquel the serial killer, Nick is taking some well-earned time off.

Of course, Nick doesn’t know how to relax, so most of his downtime involves scouting for his next lover. Cue gorgeous young twink Rafe …

Rafe is failing his way through life. First as a writer, now as a waiter: he comes to Nick’s attention when he gets fired from the bistro Nick happens to be in.

It’s clear Rafe has zero confidence. He’s been living a cycle of self-denial, meaning he’s long overdue a good time.

Nick decides he has the goods to rock Rafe’s world AND shake up his worldview a little.

Little does Nick know that Rafe has a few surprises himself …

DOWNTIME is part of the SEX. DIE. REPEAT series and explicit, paranormal M/M erotica.

SEX. DIE. REPEAT is bitesize filth you can devour before bed. Each story can be read as a standalone too.

(PLEASE NOTE: This story is for adults only and contains homoerotic content, as well as depictions of flogging, exhibitionism, religious iconography, mild horror as well as commentary on life choices, mental health and self-care. )

FIRST 500 WORDS

Rafe didn’t think much of the fact the tube station was deserted, nor was he concerned when the next train came in without passengers. Listening to his ear pods, his head bobbed up and down to his favourite, Ariana Grande. Thank u, next.

He dragged his tired self through the automatic doors, letting them swish shut behind him. It was only just seven o’clock in the evening; Rafe left his home twelve hours ago but it felt like years. In the winter he’d leave in the dark and arrive home in the dark.  His feet throbbed; his back ached from standing all day. Rafe let himself fall onto the scratchy fabric seat, breathing in the musty, stale air through his nostrils. A momentary wondering bubbled up in the surface of his brain.

Where was everyone?

This concern disappeared as the train shuddered, moving away from the vacant underground platform. The lights overhead flickered as the tube plunged into the dark tunnel; for a moment, all illumination was gone.

Rafe was alone, in the dark.

Discomfort rose in his chest in that microsecond. Darkness brought with it unwanted memories of childhood, hiding under the bed or in the wardrobe with his sister while their mother indulged in drunken rants about their no-good father who’d run out on them. Yet as quick as it disappeared, the light was back, casting its fluorescent glow around the carriage.

As Rafe blinked, allowing his eyes to readjust, he discovered he was no longer alone. Another man stood four or five feet away from him.

A fluttering of anxiety surged in Rafe’s chest at the sight of him: where had he come from? Was this an ambush? Rafe knew, from bitter experience, certain violent types liked to hunt down those they deemed ‘weaker’ by isolating them, like a lion separates a gazelle from the rest of the herd.

No, Rafe was being over-cautious. He’d not seen a living soul at the station; nor had there been anyone on board the carriage. The stranger would have needed to be psychic to know Rafe was alone and vulnerable. He can’t have appeared out of thin air; he must have been moving from another carriage to this one as the lights went out.

It was just a coincidence.

The stranger held on to a commuter rail above him. He didn’t look like he really needed to; he was a huge, solid biker guy, broad in the shoulder. He had a swarthy complexion, blue eyes and skeins of silver-grey in his long hair and beard. He stood with feet wide apart, his other hand in his leather jacket pocket. He wore blue jeans, work boots, a bandanna, and a gold earring, like a pirate.

Rafe felt a stirring in his groin at the sight of the biker. He reminded him of the iconic homoerotic work of Artist Touko Valio Laaksonen aka Tom of Finland. Rafe had grown up watching movies and TV shows about motorcycle gangs and this guy looked…

You can buy Downtime from the Amazon Kindle store.

BIO

Mia Ryder is a debut author of erotica and steamy romance, but you might know her better as LV Hay. LV’s books previous books were crime fiction: The Other Twin, Do No Harm (Orenda Books) and Never Have I Ever (Hodder). Her latest book The Coven is under the pseudonym Lizzie Fry for Sphere Books. The Other Twin is currently being adapted for the screen by Agatha Raisin producers Free@Last. 
Many thanks for your opening lines, Mia.
Happy reading everyone,
Kay x

Delivering a Voyeur- Darker Romances for Valentine’s Day

By

On February 14, 2022

In BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News

As it’s Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d share a double dose of dark romance.

First let’s tiptoe into the FFM world of The Voyeur…

Blurb

Wealthy business man and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is in the process of making a 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 his willing slave’s bare backs, 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 why is Mark getting mixed up with Anya’s previous employers at the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club- a place Anya was all 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 had left behind them all over again…

Extract

Anya had re-scanned all the emails that had flown across the invisible airwaves of the Atlantic between herself and Candice over the past few weeks. Having retreated to the bathroom to redo her lipstick and add a second layer of concealer to the bags under her eyes, Anya felt was as ready as she’d ever be to face the confident, ultra-efficient American PA over the video link.

Having checked the webcam was working properly, and that she was seated comfortably for the forthcoming exchange of information, Anya grabbed a final glance at the notes she’d made, and turned the conference call facility onto standby. She was just tapping in the password she required to be patched through to the States when the office door opened and Mark and Clara walked in. Anya’s stomach twisted into a knot of lust as she regarded Clara in a skin-hugging Lycra catsuit, all scarlet and black; a combination which showed her figure off to perfection.

 

There was no point in protesting that she was about to take an important call; Mark already knew that. Why else would he have bought Clara in, dressed so provocatively, at that exact moment? Her boss was a game player extraordinaire, and he knew precisely how to press her buttons, and freak her out at the same time. Anya had known Fantasy 6 would have to be replayed – but she hadn’t expected it now; so soon after Fantasy 2.

So, Mark isn’t going to rerun his erotic fancies in order after all.

Mark said nothing as he gestured for Anya to rise while he pulled her chair from her desk. Clara, without prompting, crawled under the desk, and crouching uncomfortably, waited for Mark to speak.

Even as her boss pointedly announced the obvious imminent replay of Fantasy 6, Anya was ahead of him, vividly remembering what had happened last time she had been forced to carry out a telephone call with Clara’s head between her legs. This time it seemed she was going to have to endure all the gorgeous delights to come while communing with an audience who could not only hear her voice, but see her as well; and who must never know what was going on below the desk.

‘Roll up your skirt, take off your thong, and sit down. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the importance of opening your legs as wide as possible.’ Anya kicked off her shoes and obliged. ‘Quickly, girl, it’s time for your meeting to begin.’

As she sat, pulling in her chair as close to the desk as it would go without squashing Clara, Anya tried to steady her nerves. The video line rang, and Anya plastered a convincingly serene smile across her face.

‘How are you, Candice, all well over there?’ Anya felt pleased at how normal her voice sounded despite the knowledge that the woman she loved was curled up only inches from her naked pussy.

‘I’m great, thank you.’ Candice, as no-nonsense as ever, dived straight into the business of the day. ‘I’m pleased to say that the personnel alterations we’ve had this end seem to be an improvement, rather than the procedural nightmare that we both feared.’

Anya listened hard as Candice listed the strengths of the new employees and what she hoped they would bring to Parker Software as a whole. But as the minutes ticked by, and Clara hadn’t so much as breathed on her, Anya found her focus beginning to falter.

‘And if his impact so far is anything to go by, then I judge that Stuart Hopkirk will turn out to be the better of the new candidates to fulfil the transatlantic element of the sales force. He’s more of a “people person”, if you see what I mean?’ Candice emphasised her point by using her fingers to show the inverted commas around the statement that Anya had only partially heard.

Why hadn’t Clara done anything yet? Last time this had happened, her lover had been straight in with the action. That had been hard enough, trying to keep her tone business-like when Clara had been employing her mouth so expertly. This non-action was far worse. Anya was so braced for the feel of the first touch that she knew she was losing the thrust of what Candice was saying.

‘Anya, are you OK?’ Candice’s southern twang sounded genuinely concerned as her counterpart failed to answer a question.

‘Sorry, the screen broke up then for a bit,’ Anya rallied, not daring to glance in Mark’s direction, knowing he’d be annoyed at her lack of professionalism. ‘Could you repeat that one, please?’

‘Sure. I was saying that Hopkins will be over in the UK next month, so I’ll confirm dates with you once flights are booked. Mark should talk with him face to face. His ideas on company development are interesting.’

‘Of course. I’ll sort a meet and greet session in London as soon as you confirm timings.’

‘Excellent! Right, that just leaves us to sort Mark’s visit to the States in the summer. Are you coming with him this year? It would be great to meet you in person.’

‘I doubt it. I – owwww!’ Anya jumped as a sharp pair of teeth dug into her pussy. ‘Oh, do excuse me; I think I was just stung. Must be an insect in here or something.’

Candice’s eyes narrowed. She looked far from convinced, but was too professional and polite to do anything other than take Anya’s word for it.

Anya could feel a blush start to creep up her neck and tinge her cheeks pink as Clara continued to nibble her teeth over and around her mound, pulling back her labia with a sharp pressure which she knew could bring Anya off very quickly.

It was time to end this conference call, and quickly. ‘Well, my diary has the last four days of July pencilled in as a possible. How does that fit with you?’

Candice tapped a few buttons on the out of sight iPad Anya knew she was physically attached to, and looked up with an orthodontically enhanced, white toothed smile. ‘The 29th is out, but the four days prior to that are clear. Shall I book Mark in?’

Without even bothering to check those days were free in Mark’s calendar, Anya said, ‘That would be excellent.’ As Clara’s tongue and right hand joined in the exploration of her crotch, Anya pretended to write down the dates.

‘Anything else you require today, Candice?’ Anya squeezed her fingernails into her hidden palms, trying to deflect the need to wriggle her arse closer to Clara’s lips, which had begun to move even faster.

‘I think that just about concludes things. Thanks for your time, Anya.’

Issuing a smile of genuine relief as Candice bought things to a close, Anya felt Clara’s long fingernails began to delicately scrape the space below her clit. Her smile toward Candice froze for a split second as Clara then forcibly pushed a hand under Anya, shoving her butt upwards so her anus could be tickled.

‘One moment please, ladies.’ Mark strode across the room, and bent into the eyeline of the video link.

‘Good morning, Mark. I’m sorry; I hadn’t realised you were there.’ Candice’s face lit up, leaving no one in any doubt as to how attractive she thought the owner of Parker Software was.

‘I’ve just arrived, sweetheart.’ Mark oozed charm at Anya’s American associate. ‘Could you be an absolute star and give me a brief breakdown of sales figures for the last quarter your end?’

Anya could have cried as Clara’s digits increased their pace. As she struggled to keep her body still from the waist up, her arse squirmed and her shoulders tensed. She felt like some kind of sinister ventriloquist’s dummy as her upper body stiffened, a look which, at an executive level, could so easily be interpreted as lack of confidence, and therefore weakness. If she wasn’t careful Candice would be putting the word about that she was cracking up. Given half the chance, Anya knew she would be on the next plane to the UK, kicking her out, so she could work with Mark instead.

Gathering herself together, doing her best to blank out what was happening to her below desk level, Anya snapped back into PA mode. ‘Actually, that would be very helpful for me as well; but if you wish for some time to gather that information, then I am happy to schedule another call tomorrow?’

‘Well, I can help a little now.’ Candice addressed Mark rather than the PA. Normally Anya would have been offended, but today she was simply relieved to have the impetus taken away from her for a minute, so she could take the opportunity to lift her buttocks from the chair, allowing Clara easier access to her backside. Instantly, Clara shuffled a digit inside her anus, and Anya trapped her girl’s finger and right arm beneath her, successfully limiting the source of the sensually distracting motion around her groin.

Undetected, however, Clara’s left hand continued its adventure by running up Anya’s legs, dancing only the tips of her fingers over the exposed flesh, making Anya shiver, causing the inserted finger to burrow deeper into her backside.

As Candice and Mark discussed import and export figures, Anya found it harder to remain centred on them, her mind drifting more and more to the curled-up creature beneath the desk.

‘Can you confirm that for me please, Anya?’ Mark’s voice snapped Anya back to attention. She was suddenly convinced by the way he and Candice were staring at her that this was at least the second time he’d asked her that question.

She knew there was no point in bluffing; they were both too shrewd for that. ‘I’m sorry, I allowed myself to be distracted. Can you repeat that, please?’

‘Sorry, Anya, I don’t have the time.’ Mark was brusque, and he turned his face back to the video link, treating Candice to his most disarming smile, ‘I must apologise for my PA’s behaviour, Candice. This unsatisfactory situation will be cleared up. Do you have time for another link meeting tomorrow?’

‘Certainly Mark, about 3 p.m.?’

Anya bristled silently, noticing that Candice hadn’t even referred to her diary, and privately hoped she’d find she was already busy and would have to reschedule, and therefore embarrass herself.

‘I’ll speak to you then. Many thanks, Candice; until tomorrow.’ Mark clicked off the link, and the room went deadly quiet…

****

Available in paperback or as an e-book, The Voyeur can be purchased from-

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

I hope you enjoyed that- here’s another extract for you- this time, we’re entering the MF world of Not Her Type, and my kinky delivery man…

Not Her Type

Blurb

When Jenny’s regular film courier, John, reveals how she has become the center of his sexual dream world, Jenny’s quiet existence is thrown into an arena of desire that she thought she’d long since abandoned. 

One unexpected, head swimming romp later, and Jenny is left wondering if her courier will ever visit her again, and if he does, will he mention the hot sex they had on her living room floor that Tuesday afternoon, or will he pretend that it hadn’t happened?

When the following Tuesday arrives and John reappears on Jenny’s doorstep, the scene is set for a continuation of intensely kinky weekly meetings. There is only one problem. John really really isn’t Jenny’s type…

In deference to Valentine’s Day and its romantic connections I will let you into a secret- Not Her Type is a love story. Shush…don’t tell anyone. Kay Jaybee- writing a love story!! My reputation as a producer of bondage smut will be forever dented!!

Fear not however, for throughout the c.28,000 words of this novella, S&M sits hand in glove with the underlying romantic streak. For this is a love story that neither Jenny nor John see coming- or indeed wanted- at first at least…

Based on the theory that opposite attract, Not Her Type begins at the dawn of a seemingly impossible and unlikely alliance between Jenny (a ridiculously over-educated accountant, who hates reality TV, and always reads the book before seeing the film) and John (her courier, who has no education at all, and only reads if someone points a gun to his head).

Here’s a tasty little extract for you…

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……. “How did I not see that coming? How bloody naïve 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!”

A self-confessed nightmare when it comes to relationships, John warns Jenny that he can’t offer her more than occasional sex- yet, there is something about his favourite customer that keeps John coming back again and again – not least because this girl is kinky and then some!! It seems there is nothing Jenny isn’t prepared to do for John- every fantasy he has ever had is suddenly waiting for him to explore…

Do they live happily ever after? Do Jenny and John walk off into the sunset dancing and singing as if they were in some sickly movie? As if I’m going to tell you that!!

Why not treat yourself to a Valentines gift and find out the answers to those questions by kinking up your kindle, adding passion to your PC, or treating yourself to the paperback…

Buy links

Happy Valentine’s reading everyone!!

Kay xxxx

Something for the weekend: A Kink a Day Book Four

By

On February 11, 2022

In A Kink a Day, BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance, something for the weekend

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

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