Kay Jaybee

Everyone Needs A Bedtime Story

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Tasty Taster: A Kink a Day Book Four

By

On December 8, 2023

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 taster…

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

Tasty Taster: A Kink A Day Book One

By

On November 17, 2023

In BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance, News

The time for some erotic reading indulgence has arrived.

This week, I’m easing you into the weekend with an extract from my sexy anthology, 

A Kink a Day- Book One

Blurb:

From the spank of a belt, to the unorthodox use of a dictionary; the bizarre obsession of an Egyptologist, to the afterhours indulgences of the staff recreating life in a strictly-run Victorian manor, A Kink a Day Book One 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.

***

Extract from Through the Gap

I caught my breath as Sally ran through the master bedroom’s door and, without taking time to explain, bundled me away from making the bed, into the dressing room cupboard and slammed the door. I stumbled back amongst the hat boxes and glove racks that filled the small, musty space. Scrambling to my feet, I pushed an eye up to the crack between the ill-fitting double doors, just in time to see both the housekeeper and the Master of the house follow Sally into the room.

There had been rumours, of course. The other members of staff frequently whispered amongst themselves of debauchery and submission, without realising they were being overheard. Six months of working in this house, of being neither seen nor heard as I discharged my duties, had made me an expert at overhearing things, and yet I had discovered nothing concrete to substantiate such gossip.
I suppose I have a rather strange job; it’s a bit like being an actor and a bit like being a domestic, but mostly I’m part of a complex tourist attraction. Each day, my colleagues and I dress in Victorian costume and work our way around a period manor house.

As a chamber maid, my place is in the bedrooms. I dart between all 25 chambers, making and unmaking beds which are never slept in, stoking naked fireplaces, dusting, sweeping and generally doing all those domestic chores associated with Victorian maids. I’m allowed to answer questions from the tourists, but otherwise I have to keep myself to myself, lower my eyes when my betters pass by, and try and remain invisible in their presence. I had dismissed the rumours of sexual deviancy as the product of boredom from some of our senior staff members’ lurid imaginations; fantasies concocted to liven up a slow tourism day. Until now.

Mrs Lawson grabbed Sally’s wrist and pulled her towards the Master. His face was solemn, and a stern furrow appeared on his brow as he peered into the eyes of the scullery maid. ‘Mrs Lawson informs me that you’ve been found wandering about above stairs again, young lady. That is not your place, is it?’
‘No, sir.’ Sally’s voice had taken on a meekness that was so convincing I wondered if it was genuine. I tried to quieten my breathing so I could hear what they were saying.

‘You know the punishment, don’t you?’

Sally nodded at the Master again and I watched as, on a signal from Mrs Lawson, Sally undid her apron and took off her cap and shoes. The housekeeper then leant forward and yanked off my colleague’s black working dress, so that she stood shivering in some far-from-Victorian underwear.

Mrs Lawson’s eyebrows rose. ‘And what exactly are those, young lady?’ her voice was harsh, but the high points of colour that had appeared on her face showed how much she was enjoying the situation as she observed Sally in her black stockings, matching bra and knickers.

Sally said nothing, but hung her head in humble submission, as the Master of the house placed a large hand on the back of her neck, gripping it firmly.
‘You have the collar, Mrs Lawson?’

‘Indeed, sir,’ the housekeeper produced a short black leather collar from her capacious apron pocket, and swiftly secured it around the maid’s pale neck. Then, rummaging further, she pulled out a thin lead and clipped it to the small silver loop that was positioned at the front of the collar.

My throat felt as if it had dried closed; I could hardly swallow as I watched, afraid of being discovered, but at the same time wishing the gap I was peering through was bigger, so I could see more.

I was unable to hear what the Master was saying now; he’d lowered his voice, almost to a whisper as he pulled on the lead which hung between her breasts. Then, in one swift, brutal movement, he grabbed the front of her bra and pulled it off, snapping the strap beyond repair. Her tits spilled out, revealing themselves to be even bigger than they’d first appeared. I moistened my lips. I could almost taste them and, enviously, I watched as the Master, yanking on the lead, bought Sally closer to him, before bowing down and engulfing a hard, nut brown nipple between his lips.

Sally had been a friend ever since I’d joined the house’s workforce, and unbeknownst to her, I’d had a massive crush on her from the first time I’d admired her in her pristine white apron and mop cap. To see her receive another’s erotic attentions was agony to my jealous body. I pressed my eye harder to the crack and strained my ears so I could hear the muted mewls my eyes told me were emanating from her lipstick-free mouth.

Mrs Lawson, who’d been watching the scene before her with obvious satisfaction, stepped forward and, once she had received approval from her superior, bent to Sally’s other breast. I could imagine so well how wonderful that would feel, the tingling attention, the sharp tang of want that each nip, each kiss, would send hurtling between her legs as both tits were stimulated at once.

I was aware of my own growing arousal. It had been simmering at the back of my mind ever since Sally had thrown me into the cupboard. Now it was controlling me, and I couldn’t help wondering if my friend had engineered things so I could observe her. A second’s panic shot through me, and I pulled away from the door. What if Sally told them I was here? What would they do to me if they found me? Then I sort of hoped they would find me. My breasts chaffed against my bra and stiffly starched uniform, as I wondered how I’d cope in Sally’s position.

My fantasy was cut short by a sharp scream, and I was drawn back to the real life drama in the adjoining room. The maid’s knickers had, in my few second’s lapse of concentration, been removed, and she was now on all fours. Mrs Lawson held a short white cane, which she had presumably kept in her apron pocket, and was rhythmically tanning Sally’s backside as the Master pulled the lead, making the girl walk after him like an obedient bitch on heat.

I was able to view them from every angle, as they moved in circles around the room, Sally yelping as the cane struck her neat backside. Our Master’s eyes blazed, his dick bulging beneath his suit trousers, while the housekeeper revelled in her administration of pain.

Without registering what I was doing, I slipped off my apron and slid a hand into my knickers as I watched. My juices stuck to my fingertips as I imagined Sally’s liquid dripping from her damp pussy. For despite her calls of anguish, the maid’s face glowed with desire, and there was no doubt in my mind that this scenario had been played out, and enjoyed, many times before….

If you want to find out what happened next you can buy A Kink a Day One from:

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

***

Happy reading,

Kay xx

 

 

 

 

 

Lexie Bay is back: New book news!

By

On October 27, 2023

In eBooks, erotica

I’m unbelievably excited to welcome a very dear friend to my blog today.

The fabulous Lexie Bay – fellow Brit Babe and all round lovely person – has picked up her laptop again!!

Over to you Lexie…

The Best of Lexie Bay Volume One

It’s been about six years since I last wrote a filthy story to send out into the world and I’ve missed it. I’ve missed creating the scenes, I’ve missed the thrill of seeing my words in print and most of all I’ve missed the wonderful people that I met while I was creating those sexy stories.

So, I am delighted to be reunited today with one of the wonderful ladies that taught me so much about the erotic craft, the gorgeous Kay Jaybee. Thank you so much for having me on your blog so that I can tell everyone about what I’m currently up to.

This week saw the release of the first anthology of my early work. I have finally taken the dive into writing full time, and I wanted to pull together all my past work into two anthologies which cover 2010 until 2017.

The last of these stories, which will feature in Volume Two in January 2024, ”Innocent Lies” is about a gangster called Tommy and this is what I am working on now. I wanted to give him a bigger story, to fill in the gaps in the original short and to see where he goes next. I can’t wait for you to read it next year.

In the meantime, I really hope you enjoy a trip down memory lane with The Best of Lexie Bay – Volume One.

Love Lexie xx

Blurb

Dive into nine of Lexie’s original stories published between 2010 and 2013

A wild ride through men in sexy uniforms, darkly kinky supernatural beings, bad boys, bad girls and the glitz and glamour of the high life. Take your pick from the bright lights of the funfair, the glamour of London’s sex parties or lose yourself in glitzy underbelly of Las Vegas and indulge yourself with nine wicked stories of desire, forbidden lust and happy ever afters.

Some stories have been updated for your pleasure.

***

Extract from “Inside, Looking Out”

London 2010, present day

As Izzy stepped out of the warmth of the black cab, the chill air of a Soho night whipped around her, blowing her hair and slipping up the inside of her dress, almost revealing to the busy street that she was wearing nothing underneath. Her nipples hardened as the icy breeze fingered her naked pussy, sending a frisson of delicious heat through her in stark contrast to the cold. She turned to pay the driver and gasped as the wind lifted her skirt again, grabbing the hem to save her modesty. She giggled to herself at the irony of trying to look demure getting out of the cab, when in just a few moments she would be wantonly stalking the corridors of one of London’s biggest and most infamous orgies, wearing next to nothing.

She stood outside the huge old fashioned building and gazed up at it. It had taken her months to get here. She had networked with the best; blagging invitations to parties where she knew the big-league guys would be, using her family name and her father’s notoriety in business to influence anyone who would listen and finally it had paid off. She had caught the eye of an ageing CEO at a private dinner party and he had offered her the golden ticket to the biggest event of the year. She shivered as the wind whisked up again and pulled her mask down over her face.

The irony of using her father’s contacts and the family name was not lost on her. The very same power that her father had wielded to get her a place at the prestigious University in Oxford, England, where he had been so proud of her and her achievements, was now her ticket to further the hedonistic lifestyle that he so hated. He still funded her but he had given up on trying to mould her into Katy, the older sister that Izzy could never be like. Katy had married the man their father had picked for her, who had money and power but no charm or passion. She stayed at home with their children while he did whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted. Izzy hadn’t seen Katy smile in years and she knew she would never, could never, give up everything like that. Katy would never stand on the brink of adventure outside a notorious club, adrenaline flooding her body as she anticipated the night ahead. Izzy turned her attention back to the imposing building in front of her.

The annual event was always a masquerade ball, the elaborate masks an essential part of the night and this year the theme was “The Call of the Wild”. Izzy had researched the event for months and she knew that what you wore was almost as important as what you didn’t. The animal theme had inspired her and she had chosen to come dressed as a gazelle, wanting to look vulnerable and submissive. Izzy had spent a fortune having a costume made and she knew she looked amazing; the front of the dress showing off her cleavage to maximum effect and the back leaving very little to the imagination as it clung to her full, round bottom.

Izzy looked up and down the street then climbed the stone steps to the imposing front door. As she did she couldn’t help thinking about the journey that had brought her to this point.

***

Available From

Amazon.co.uk   The Best of Lexie Bay: Volume One: Amazon.co.uk: Bay, Lexie: 9798861216340: Books

Amazon.com     The Best of Lexie Bay: Volume One – Kindle edition by Bay, Lexie. Literature & Fiction Kindle eBooks @ Amazon.com.

Currently available on Kindle Unlimited

Author Bio

Lexie lives in Brighton with her family and has just started writing again after a long career in finance. She loves the adrenaline rush of the unexpected and likes to lose herself in the realms of fantasy, kink and the downright filthy. She is currently working on a full-length novel which she hopes to release in 2024.

You can follow her on:

Instagram           @lexie_bay

X                           @Lexie_Bay

Facebook           (1) Facebook Lexie Bay

Website              Coming Soon

 

A huge thank you to Lexie for visiting today. Wishing you much success with your anthology. Looking forward to more Lexie Bay work in the near future.

Happy reading everyone,

Kay xx

Curve Appeal: New Release from Lucy Felthouse

By

On June 12, 2023

In eBooks, erotic romance

Today I’m delighted to feature a #newrelease from epic #erotica writer and friend, Lucy Felthouse.

Curve Appeal, a standalone contemporary reverse harem/why choose romance! (@cw1985) #reverseharem #whychoose #rh #rhromance #eroticromance #bbw #curvyheroine #rubenesque

Blurb:

An exciting opportunity could solve all Brianna’s problems. But will it ultimately create more?

Brianna Denton is a primary school teacher at the end of her tether. Budget cuts, changes in legislation and a pandemic have left her feeling like walking away from the only career she’s ever wanted. The trouble is, if she did quit, what would she do next? Living in London is expensive, and keeping on top of her rent and bills while retraining would be nigh-on impossible. An offer to move in with her best friend, Joel Harris, is appreciated, but feels way too much like charity for her liking.

But then Joel throws her a curveball. On a complete whim, he’s bought a fixer-upper cottage on a remote Scottish island. He wants to transform it into an uber-luxury holiday home and rent it out. To do that, however, he needs a skilled, reliable workforce and a project manager to keep things running smoothly. A visit to the island in question provides as many questions as answers, but one thing becomes clear – Brianna is the perfect woman for the job. She’s smart, organised, works well under duress, and if she can handle a classroom full of young children, surely a bunch of skilled tradesmen won’t be a problem. Working and living in such a stunning setting is a massive plus point, too.

Brianna takes a leap of faith, leaving her home and beloved career behind to help turn Joel’s dream into a reality. It’s a steep learning curve, but Brianna is definitely up for the challenge. But when working relationships develop into something more, will it bring the entire project crashing down around her ears, or is it simply the beginning of a whole new life?

Available from (will be in Kindle Unlimited for 90 days, then be released on all other retailers): https://books2read.com/curveappeal

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/134717777-curve-appeal

Add to BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/curve-appeal-by-lucy-felthouse

Excerpt:

Chapter One

Brianna smiled as she caught sight of Joel, already waiting for her outside the pub. His job as a high-flying London City banker meant he put in some insane hours at work, but he ensured he was always available and on time for their last-Friday-of-the-month meet up at their favourite Thames-side establishment. Not only was it a lovely place, but the location was perfect for them both—it was just far away enough from Joel’s work it was unlikely he’d bump into any colleagues, and close enough to the primary school Brianna taught in that she could tie up any loose ends and scurry the short distance to meet her friend in no time at all. Today she’d had quite a few loose ends, which always seemed to be the way lately, and was a few minutes later than she’d planned, so was scurrying more quickly than usual, not wanting to keep him waiting any longer than necessary.

He hadn’t spotted her yet—he was leaning against the wall, one expensively-shod foot propped up on the bricks behind him, his head tilted up to the early spring sunshine, which even this late in the day was surprisingly strong and picked up the few lighter strands in his dark hair. He’d removed his tie—knowing him, the moment he set foot outside his office building—the end of which poked from the pocket of his black trousers, and rolled up the cuffs of his subtly-patterned shirt to expose most of his forearms. The look was casual, relaxed. Handsome.

In a parallel universe, she and Joel might be a couple, off travelling the world together, or perhaps married and getting ready to settle down and have a couple of kids. Maybe they’d have started early and had the kids already. And a dog.

In this universe, however, they were best friends—had been since their first day of senior school at the tender age of eleven. And while Brianna thought Joel handsome, it was in an impartial, stating a fact way. She wasn’t attracted to him, and it wouldn’t have made a difference if she was, because in this universe, Joel was as gay as they came—a fact she hadn’t realised she’d already known, until at eighteen he’d sat her down, his expression serious, and said he had something to tell her.

Her heart had pounded, and a sick feeling had taken over her stomach. Thoughts started racing through her head—was one of his parents ill? Was he ill? Was he moving away? Unable to cope with the internal onslaught of negativity any longer, she’d said, “For Christ’s sake, Joel, spill the beans, would you? You’re freaking me the fuck out.”

His seriousness had morphed briefly to annoyance, then resignation. He’d taken in and released a deep breath, then, “Bree, I wanted you to be the first to know… I’m gay.”

A sound somewhere between a squeak and a giggle had escaped her lips before she could stop it. She’d clapped her hand over her mouth for a second, then removed it and burst out with “Oh, you idiot!” before landing a playful slap on his arm. “Is that all? I thought you were going to say something bad. That something terrible was going on. Thank God.”

Joel had frowned. “So you… don’t mind?” He’d paused, narrowed his eyes. “You don’t seem surprised.”

She’d shaken her head. “Of course I don’t mind. Why the hell would I mind? I’m not a homophobe. If blokes float your boat, so be it. As long as you’re happy, I couldn’t give a toss. And, for the record…” it had been her turn to pause, “I think I’ve known for years.” She nodded as long-forgotten jigsaw pieces began slotting together in her head, then shrugged. “Yeah. I have. Years.”

And now, twenty years later, their friendship had endured—flourished, even. Weathered storms, and basked in sunlight—much as Joel continued to do as she grew closer. Her smile widened, and she was glad she had on flat shoes—not only did it make both her job and the short walk from the school easier, it also meant she had a good chance of creeping up on Joel, maybe scaring the shit out of him as he sunned himself. They might be approaching forty, but when they were together, they often acted as immature and idiotic as they had when they’d first met. Yes, they were getting older, but they sure as shit weren’t growing up.

Respective partners had come and gone, most of them never able to comprehend, much less tolerate, hers and Joel’s unique friendship, but as their jobs, and other friends and family kept them busy and fulfilled, singledom had never particularly concerned either of them. As far as she was concerned, at least, what would be, would be.

She enjoyed the sunshine on her skin as she closed the gap between them, then held her breath as she came within a couple of metres of Joel before flinging herself forward and grabbing onto his nearest finely-muscled arm. “Gotcha!”

He yelped, jumped, snatched his arm away and opened his eyes in a hilarious sequence, then clutched his chest and gave her a good-natured glare, his blue eyes glinting. “Fuck’s sake, Bree! You’re lucky I didn’t swing for you, then. I thought someone was trying to rob me.”

“That’ll teach you to wear ludicrously expensive watches,” she replied with a snicker.

He glanced wryly at his Patek Philippe, then looked back at her with a grin. “Touché. Come on,” he turned around, slipped his arm through hers and led her into the relative gloom of the pub, “for that twattishness, first drink’s on you.”

She couldn’t argue with that reasoning. It was still worth it, though, to see the look of pure panic cross his face. She stifled further giggles, not wanting to inspire her friend to order the most expensive drink he could think of, purely to get his own back. While top of the range watches were easily within his budget, she’d had to save up for a mid-range Fitbit.

A few minutes later, with drinks in hand, they sat down at a table on the terrace overlooking the river and took simultaneous sips of their chosen beverages. Brianna swallowed the mouthful of chilled white wine, then, without meaning to, let out a long, contented sigh.

Joel raised an eyebrow as he swigged his beer, then said, “Sounds as though you needed that. Tough week?”

“Hmm. You could say that.” She fidgeted in her seat, getting the uncomfortable inkling she’d opened a can of worms she’d have preferred was left undisturbed.

“Oh?” His other eyebrow jumped up to join the first. “Do tell.”

She stared out over the river, screwed up her nose and wafted a hand in his vague direction. “No, no, it’s work stuff. Boring, really. Not worth talking about.”

“Bree.” He grabbed her hand, drawing her attention to his face. His expression was earnest, his gaze intense. “Maybe it is boring, but it’s clearly bothering you, so I want to know about it. I’m your best friend, remember? If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?”

She squeezed his hand, then pulled hers away, picked up her glass and took a gulp. Swallowed, then groaned. There was no putting the lid back on the can—she might as well come out with it. “Oh, all right. It’s just… I don’t know… I think I’m getting a bit fed up of teaching.”

Joel spluttered into his pint, drawing querying glances from a few of the people at tables adjacent to theirs. Ignoring them, Joel put his drink down, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gaped at her as though she’d grown a second head. “What? But you… you love teaching!”

Nodding sadly, she replied, “I do. The teaching part. The kids. But the rest; the planning, the admin, the assessing, the being assessed, being micromanaged, dealing with parents, the endless fucking meetings, the meetings about meetings, the meetings that could have been an email… it’s getting on top of me. It wasn’t too bad before—the joy of being in the classroom far outweighed the rest, but since the pandemic, the shambles that is bloody Brexit and the subsequent government fuckery, things have become steadily worse. Rules being changed, goalposts moving, budgets being squeezed, funding getting cut, costs going up. We’re expected to work more and more hours for the same amount of pay, with fewer support staff, yet still uphold the same insanely high standards and have enough energy and spark to engage and teach a class of primary school kids! It’s becoming completely untenable. And the strike action hasn’t exactly been stress free.”

Joel gave her a sympathetic smile. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better. Why haven’t you mentioned this before now?”

She shrugged. “No point. All the decisions are way above my pay grade, so there’s nothing I can do. I’ve just been soldiering on, hoping things will improve. But right now, I honestly can’t see an end in sight. We’re human beings, not robots, and we’re being treated like shit. We’ve come a long way from being lauded as keyworkers, that’s for bloody certain.” She rolled her lips inward, bit down on them, wondering whether she should let the words on the tip of her tongue come out. She’d barely admitted it to herself, much less anyone else. But this was Joel. He’d have her back no matter what she said.

She took a deep breath, huffed it out again, then looked him in the eye. “I’m thinking of jacking it in at the end of term.”

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures, Eyes Wide Open, The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight, Curve Appeal, and The Heiress’s Harem and The Dreadnoughts series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name. Find out more about her and her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/linktree

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

Tasty Taster: The Collector

By

On April 21, 2023

In BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance, News

Let’s sample a touch of Scotland based erotica, care of  The Collector, – an anthology of twenty two stories each ‘collected’ by an anonymous narrator.

The Collector 2016 b

 

Blurb

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

The Collector’s research takes her into every arena of the erotic experience, from love, 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?

***

Extract from The Scottish Fantasy

Stacie gasped as the door opened. The dark shine to the man’s slate eyes as he regarded her and her friend Kate was in danger of taking Stacie’s breath away, and he hadn’t even spoken yet.

Tall, broad, with a tanned face and short spiked hair, a hint of stubble shadowed his square chin. Obviously surprised to see two young women walking through the woods so late on a winter’s afternoon, the ranger ushered them inside his wooden hut.

Introducing himself as Rob—Like Rob Roy! Stacie’s inner voice shouted at her. How perfect is that!—he looked at them enquiringly, ‘I dunna ken what you’re doin’ here, hens.’

Stacie’s brow furrowed. She’d thought that the Scottish spoke English.

Kate laughed as she saw her friend’s confused expression. ‘He means he doesn’t understand what we want, honey. “Dunna ken” means “don’t know” and “hen” is the local term for girl.’  Turning toward the ranger, Kate smiled. ‘This is Stacie, and I’m Kate. Stacie hasn’t got her ear geared into the local accent yet; she’s American.’

‘I guess that means an American accent.’ The ranger spoke so softly, Stacie felt herself melting on the spot. ‘I rather like those.’

Ignoring her friend, whose eyes were on stalks, leaving her in no doubt that Stacie was on an internal lust trip, Kate said, ‘We’re really sorry to bother you so late, but could you tell us where we are? We seem to be on a much longer trail than we intended to be, and we’ve lost the track.’

Rob’s dark eyes bored into her as she spoke. Kate couldn’t decide if their presence mildly amused him, or if he was merely tolerating the interruption to his work.

‘We’ve run out of water as well. Could we fill up our bottles here, please?’

‘It’s a good job you stopped, hen.’ The ranger pulled a map off his cluttered desk and pointed a thick finger at a red dotted line. ‘You’re here, on the all day walk. It’s called that for sound reasons.’

Lost in an erotic daydream, Stacie wasn’t listening to a word he said, just to the sound of his voice; the beautiful, gentle burr of his accent. She judged it fitted neatly half way between Ewan McGregor and Sean Connery.

When Kate had invited her friend over from the States for a couple of weeks exploring the Grampians of Scotland, Stacie had been thrilled. Not only could she catch up with her gorgeous friend and occasional lover, she could visit an area of the world that had always held a fantasy for her. Kilts, burly men in tight white vests, cabers being tossed, heather, whiskey, and mountains topped with snow.

The heather and mountains were a reality sure enough, as were the late night tots of warming whiskey she’d shared with Kate as they snuggled up together in the king-sized bed their Deeside hotel room provided. But until now, in this ranger’s office, hidden away in the woods near the flooded caves of Burn O’Vat, Stacie hadn’t seen anyone who even came close to the Celtic man of her late night fantasies.

Stacie felt mesmerised by the ranger. Despite the coldness of the late winter air he wore no coat, and his green sweater sleeves were rolled back to show arms honed by hard work. Forget kilts, this was as close to perfection as Stacie’s Scottish fantasy was ever going to get.

‘I’ll fill your bottles right enough, but if you’ll heed my advice, you’ll go back on the route you came. Far quicker and safer. It’ll be dark in about two hours.’

‘Thanks, I think we’ll do that.’ Kate watched as he took their empty water bottles over to his sink. His back view was as stunning as his front. The goldfish expression on Stacie’s face told her girlfriend that she was mentally undressing him, and Kate began to do the same.  Well aware that Stacie had serious fantasy issues where Scottish men were concerned, Kate wondered just how turned on her friend was. Did she have damp knickers? Were her nipples hard?

As Kate’s thoughts rambled, her own arousal began to tweak up a notch. Perhaps… She took a deep breath. Well, why not?

‘It must be lonely here, on your own all day.’ Kate knew the line was a bit lame, but she didn’t care. A sideways glance at Stacie showed that her lover had understood her intentions, and approved.

Rob didn’t look round. He didn’t need to. He could sense the two sets of eyes on his back; they were almost scorching him. Taking his time to fill the second bottle, the ranger thought the situation through.

Two of them, both hot totty. One a blonde, one a redhead. One English. One American. A tasty combination. Their bulky winter coats, sensible walking trousers and boots didn’t give much away, but he was willing to bet that once all the layers were off, they would be a sight to behold. He could be wrong, he supposed, but maybe…

Rob replied to Kate’s question. ‘I like it well enough, hen. I ken it’s quiet, but I like peace and quiet.’

‘So, you don’t get… lonely, then?’ Kate knew she was being blatant, but she didn’t care. If she could pull this off, it would be the perfect holiday present for her friend. Stacie, her mouth dry with anticipation, stepped forward. Pulling off her gloves to reveal pale hands with violently clashing purple nail-varnished tips, she took the full bottles from Rob’s hands. Making certain her fingers brushed his as she did so.

‘Thank you,’ Stacie purred as she passed one of the bottles to her partner. The tacit standoff that followed as tension rippled through the small office room-cum-workshop was eventually broken by Rob.

‘Would you lassies like something to warm you up before you go?’  His sentence, delivered in a deadpan tone, could have been suggesting something as mundane as sharing of a mug of hot chocolate, but his sparkling eyes hinted at so much more.

Stacie’s pulse quickened as Kate casually replied, ‘Well, if it’s not too much trouble, that would be lovely.’ Another normal sentence, but packed with enough eyelash-fluttering that she might as well have screamed out ‘Fuck us now!’

‘I was about to light the fire.’ Rob knelt at a small grate, already neatly piled with kindling. ‘Perhaps you’d like to lose your jackets for a while. When this takes, this place gets pretty hot.’

The girls’ eyes were drawn to the hopping, spluttering flames. They threw their coats over their backpacks, which they’d already dumped by the front door.

Taking his time with the fire, the ranger didn’t stir from where he crouched until it had taken to his satisfaction, and was smoking nicely up the chimney. Then, with a measured movement, he stood and faced his guests, who with unspoken agreement had divested themselves of far more than just their coats. Somehow Rob managed to keep his face passive as his eyes travelled from the top of each girl’s head down to their toes.

They stood naked. Holding hands. So, lovers in their own right, then. Nice. He smiled. It had been over fifteen years since he’d been with two women at the same time. A memory that kept him warm during the dark winter days and nights as he guarded the woodland and its wildlife.

Deciding against comment, Rob took a silent moment to choose which girl he’d treat rough and which one he’d simply treat. Then, with a pace that neither girl would have associated with the man whose previous movements had been so controlled and steady, he stripped…

***

The stories within The Collector vary greatly in length, style, and taste. The best way to think of it is as an erotica menu- lots of tasty tasters to help you discover which erotica works best for you. If you alike all sorts of erotica already, then you should (I hope!) like

Buy Links – 

http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01EVVGYB2?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01EVVGYB2?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660 

Smashwords – The Collector – a book by Kay Jaybee

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Here are a couple of lovely reviews for The Collector!

‘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.’ Bunny Reviews 

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Happy reading,

Kay x

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