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A Perfect Submissive: Welcome to The Fifth Floor

Miss Jess Sanders is back…(and available in paperback and eBook)

Last September I celebrated my thirteenth year of writing erotica. After so long in the business, I decided it was time to give my existing work something of a reboot.

The world has moved on so much in the last decade that stories about DVD and video delivery men seem sadly out of touch. Not only has the technology around us upgraded, but the readership of erotica has shifted, expanded, and adjusted its outlook – and so, as a writer, I felt duty bound to make a few tweaks accordingly.

Not too many changes have been made- my work still has to deliver what you’d expect it to- but a re-edit, a new look, and a general reboot was certainly required.

The challenge facing me is a large scale one. I have written over 200 erotic stories so far- that is one hell of a lot of re-editing! The place to start however, was obvious- The Perfect Submissive Trilogy. This bestselling and award winning- series of novels (plus it’s one off extra novella, The New Room), established me as a writer of all things kinky. I owe it a fresh lick of paint at the very least.

Due to a reformatting of the erotica publishing business, I have regained nearly all the rights to my work, and so, after much deliberation, I decided to publish my erotica myself.

The first of my novels to make its way through the complete re-edit, recover process was The Fifth Floor– the first novel in The Perfect Submissive Trilogy.

Blurb

Hidden behind the respectable façade of the Fables Hotel in Oxfordshire, five specially adapted rooms await visitors to the fifth floor.  Here, Mrs Peters is mistress of an adult entertainment facility pandering to the kinky requirements of its guests.  When she meets Jess Sanders, she recognises the young woman’s potential as a deliciously meek addition to her specialist staff.  All it will take is a little education.

Under the tutelage of dominatrix, Miss Sarah, Jess learns to cope with an erotically demanding training schedule and a truly sexy exercise regime. But will she come to terms with her new career?

Meanwhile, Mrs Peters is temporarily distracted from her intimidating rule over Fable’s fifth floor by artist, Sam Wheeler – who she believes can help her in her mission to transform Jess into the perfect submissive…

***

BUY LINKS

Paperback-

eBook-

***

The Retreat – Book Two of Jess’s adventure is also out now! And Book Three, Knowing Her Place is not too far away…

 

You can buy The Retreat from all good retailers including-

AmazonUK
AmazonUS
AmazonAU
AmazonCA
Barnes&Noble
iBooksUK
iBooksUS
Kobo
Smashwords

Happy reading,

Kay x

 

OUT NOW: The Retreat (The Perfect Submissive Book 2)

I’m so excited to be able to announce that The Retreat– the second of ‘The Perfect Submissive Trilogy’ is available as an eBook NOW!!

All recovered, reedited and updated, this fairytale with a twist (several twists actually- one with ginger…) was so much fun to dream up

The Retreat carries on from 6 months after Miss Jess Sanders is still adjusting to her new life at the Fables Hotel.

You do not have to have read book one of the trilogy (The Fifth Floor) to enjoy The Retreat.

Blurb

Just as Jess Sanders is adjusting to her new life as the submissive in residence on the fifth floor of The Fables Hotel, her employer, Mrs Peters, makes a startling announcement. She has agreed to loan Jess, and her dominatrix Miss Sarah, to one of their most demanding clients; Mr David Proctor.

Whisked away by the mysterious Kane to The Retreat, a house hidden in a remote part of Scotland, Jess and Miss Sarah find themselves teaching a new submissive how to meet Proctor’s exacting rules.

As Jess comes to terms with the techniques of The Retreat’s overpowering dominatrix, Lady Tia, she discovers that Proctor’s motives may not be all they seem. Just who or what is Fairtasia? And why does Jess feel like she’s walked into a warped fairy tale?

In order to get back to the fifth floor, Jess is going to have to be far more than just a perfect submissive…

****

Let’s take a look at how the middle book in the trilogy begins…

Prologue

‘Please Sir. Please! I won’t let you down.’

David Proctor peered at the woman crouched before him. The top of her head, haphazardly piled with blonde curls, was all he could see of her bowed face.

‘I can learn. I can.’ Her voice quivered with deep-seated yearning, ‘I’ll learn to be whoever you want me to be.’

The heated softness of her Scottish accent added a dimension to David’s arousal which he hadn’t expected. No stranger to the world of submission and domination, he’d never met anyone so keen to be subservient to him before.

With his ego growing almost as much as his cock, which nudged against the inside of his suit trousers, David hunkered down beside the girl. Her bare buttocks bore the pleasing marks of his palm. The fading prints were a blotched pink now, but they’d blazed red only moments ago, when he’d pinned her across his lap, spanking her backside again and again in punishment for her repeated disobedience. Or rather, for her failure to obey, despite her repeated efforts to please him.

The cook’s breasts, just over a handful in size, were dotted with freckles, and as he fondled them between his fingers, David’s mind seethed with images of all the things a willing slave could do for him.

Lifting her lowered head by the chin, David fixed his hazel eyes into her sapphire ones, ‘But you refuse to climax when I tell you to.’ His voice wasn’t angry, but it was hard. David Proctor was, and would always be, an unyielding business man. If there was nothing in any arrangement of long term benefit for him, it wouldn’t happen.

‘I want to though Sir. I really want to, I… Forgive me, but you make me hang on for so long before granting permission to come, and then I can’t. I am so sorry, I…’

‘SShhhh.’ David ran his fingers through the wisps of hair that had escaped her hooked up ponytail. There was no denying that she intrigued him. With each stroke of her wavy locks he thought.

The Retreat did need another submissive. And soon, if his business plans were to expand in the direction he intended. The man Fairtasia was sending to represent them was due any day now, and not long after that, their delegates would arrive.

‘Please Sir?’ The cooks pupils seemed impossibly wide as she held his eyes, and but for the occasional shiver of denied desire, her bare legs didn’t move against the stone kitchen floor, proving just how good her stamina was already. ‘Lady Tia could teach me.’

‘Tr…ain…ing.’ David spoke the thought slowly, as if to himself, mulling each letter over with his tongue, but the young woman leapt upon the word.

‘Training! Yes Sir! Dr Ewen says Lady Tia is the best dominatrix there is.’

‘She is indeed good, but…’ The Retreat’s new owner reached his hands back to the girl’s tits, and felt his cock stiffen further as her nipples pressed greedily against his skin, ‘I’m not sure Lady Tia’s field of expertise will be sufficient in this case. Spankings and beatings you can already take, and plainly enjoy.’

The girl re-dipped her face. She was obviously trying not to let her disappointment in her own shortcomings show. There was no doubt she was submissive material- and yet- not quite. Her deference to him however, and his urgent requirement for an additional member of staff, made David’s mind up for him.

‘I think it’s time I contacted a friend in England. I’m sure she’ll send us the help we need.’ Manipulating the cook’s chest with greater vigour, relishing the resulting gasp of pain tinged pleasure that flew from her lips; David’s round face gave a calculating smile.

His eyes had fallen upon the giant range in the centre of The Retreat’s antique kitchen. Then his gaze travelled to the table next to it. A huge old fashioned pottery jar of ginger powder, and another of brown sugar, sat awaiting the sidetracked cooks’ attention.

For weeks David had been contemplating how to impress the Fairtasia company delegation. He knew that the final securing of the contract he wanted from them so badly, would depend on the outcome of the party The Retreat was hosting for them in a month’s time.

In order for the head of Fairtasia to sign on the dotted line, and make their business arrangement official, the evening would have to be unforgettable. Now, as he looked about him, David knew precisely what theme that party was going to take. And how fitting it would be.

‘Alisha.’

The cook jerked her head up hopefully at her employer’s use of her first name.

‘You may train to be The Retreat’s new submissive. Lady Tia can begin your lessons as you suggest.’ David unzipped the fly of his trousers. As he freed his dick, he had to suppress a laugh as the girl eyed it hungrily. ‘You may also address me as David. I don’t like Sir. I never have. Now suck me off.’

‘Yes David.’

‘Good girl.’ Extracting his mobile from his pocket, David tapped in a number as the cook’s velvet mouth engulfed him.

The sucking of Alisha’s lips and tongue working around his length was the only sound in the granite room, as David waited for his call to be picked up.

‘Ah, Fables Hotel? Could you put me through to Mrs Peters’ office please?… Not there?… Please tell her that Mr Proctor has a proposition for her; and that time is of the essence.’

Pocketing his mobile, David tangled his fingers into the cook’s increasingly messed up hair. Tilting his groin forward, admiring the way Alisha amended her position so she didn’t gag, but took him deeper, David asked, ‘Tell me, how much do you know about fairytales…?’

****

Well- if that has perked your curiosity- then you can buy The Retreat as an e-Book via these links…

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

****

I hope you enjoy Jess’s Hansel and Gretel adventure…

Happy Reading Everyone.

Kay xx

 

 

Some Wednesday for a Wicked Wednesday

I thought it would be nice to share a little from my word sexy novella, Wednesday on Thursday with you today – it is a Wicked Wednesday after all!

Wednesday on Thursday

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 cafe 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 Links

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Wednesday-Thursday-Kay-Jaybee-ebook/dp/B01N5SOMT0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1485329803&sr=8-1&keywords=Wednesday+on+Thursday+Kay+Jaybee

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N5SOMT0?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660

 

Happy reading!

Kay x

Tasty Taster: The Fifth Floor

It’s not long now until my novel, Making Him Wait, hits the world. In the meantime, I thought I’d share a little from my BDSM novel, The Fifth Floor (Book One of The Perfect Submissive trilogy)

 

Here’s a snippet from the very start of Miss Jess Sanders’ adventure…

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

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

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

‘I would, Mrs Peters.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

eBooks 

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

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

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

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

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

Paperbacks

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

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

 

Happy reading everyone,

Kay xxxx

 

New contract. New look. Making Him Wait is back!

It is with great excitement that I can announce my new contract with the fabulous Sinful Press! They have taken on my popular paint spattered erotic romance, Making Him Wait.

Just look at this wonderful new cover!

Using the premise of self-control as its central theme, Making Him Wait, takes modern BDSM erotic romantic fiction and gives it an extra nudge into the realm of an artists studio.

Blurb-

Maddie Templeton has always been an unconventional artist. Themes of submission and domination pulse through her erotic artwork, and she’s happily explored these lustful themes both on and off the canvas.

But, when Theo Hunter enters her life, she is presented with a new challenge. Maddie sets out to test his resolve as she teases, torments and toys with him. But, as Maddie drives Theo to breaking point, she soon becomes unsure whether her own resolve will hold out!

At the same time, Maddie must put on the exhibition of a lifetime. As the hottest gallery in town clamours for her best work, Maddie pushes her models harder and higher until they are physically, sexually and emotionally exhausted. Will Maddie’s models continue to submit to her, or will she push them too far? And will she be ready for the exhibition in time?

The only way to find out is to wait and see…and the waiting only makes it sweeter!

****

To celebrate the re-release of Making Him Wait, I thought I’d share a  juicy extract to whet your appetite.

Ignoring the buzz of her mobile phone, Maddie placed the worn stub of charcoal to the side of her easel and took a step back from the girl before her.

Maddie nodded with approval as her newest model – a petite blonde – flexed the muscles she’d been keeping stock still for the previous half hour.

“Control, Freya – at least the appearance of control – is everything.” The artist reached out an affectionate hand to her muse.

Freya rocked a little on her bare feet as Maddie touched her lightly freckled cheek. “No need to look so worried, honey. You are doing brilliantly. It’s a difficult pose to hold for so long.”

“Thank you.” Blushing an endearing shade of pink, Freya lowered the hands she’d nervously clenched before her, giving her employer another chance to see the neat triangle of her semi-shaved pussy.

Maddie, her jeans and t-shirt smeared and spattered with all the mediums of her trade, did not feel the need to mention to Freya that her own knickers were sodden, nor that beneath her holster bra, her nipples were rock hard.

A further buzz from her mobile alerted Maddie to the arrival of another text message. In fact a steady string of muffled noises from her mobile, coming from the pit of her handbag, had been announcing the arrival of texts every ten minutes or so throughout the morning.

Smiling to herself, Maddie continued to disregard her phone and considered the exquisite outline of her companion’s porcelain frame. Most people came to Maddie to be drawn or painted, sometimes as a commission for a lover, husband or wife. Some, however, like Freya, came to the studio as a way of improving their self-confidence. Despite her generally shy demeanour, Freya had proved to be very good at posing as Maddie required and the artist had offered her an occasional job as a life model.

Sometimes Maddie felt she was more therapist than artist – specifically a sex therapist – as men and women alike shared their most intimate secrets while standing on the other side of her easel. Maddie’s studio certainly had the air of an erotic fantasy confessional about it. She wasn’t complaining, however. No other life would do for her now. The job satisfaction Maddie achieved from listening to the dreams and fantasies of others while she recreated them onto canvas, went hand in glove with the personal physical gratification it gave her.

Money being either plentiful or non-existent, depending on the current success of her commissions and sales, Maddie had been forced to develop an alternative form of payment for her models – a reward system for good work. Maddie could tell from the rise and fall of Freya’s chest and the glistening damp skin at the top of her thighs, that she was more than ready to be paid for today’s session.

Closing in on her model, Maddie simultaneously cupped Freya’s slick pussy and left breast with her charcoal-blackened hands, causing an involuntary shiver to ripple through the younger woman’s body.

“Your progress really is outstanding, honey. Few of my models can stay as motionless as you can.” Congratulating Freya on her skill, Maddie left two dark palm prints on the girl’s tits and tapped at the inside of her legs. “Open up. I think you have deserved a treat after all your hard work.”

Gliding her palm over Freya’s mound, Maddie slipped a gentle finger into the slippery canal of the model’s frantically clutching sex, enjoying the murmured mew of contentment that escaped from her lipstick-free mouth.

Pumping gently, the artist brought Freya close to orgasm with steady increases and decreases of pressure – her own mind straying to her mobile. Maddie wondered where Theo was and what he was doing. She knew what he was thinking about. She always knew that. Theo thought about her.

Pushing her happily sex-drugged model onto an armchair, Maddie’s own arousal kicked up a notch as she bent to lick Freya’s nub, swiftly bringing her to the dawn of a shuddering release.

While continuing to take pleasure in the sweet taste of another woman on her lips, Maddie considered how she’d phrase her responses to all the messages Theo had sent and how she’d tell him precisely what and who had held up her replies.

Inhaling Freya’s climactic scent, Maddie’s hands roamed up and over the small, orgasm-jacked body, her thoughts still with Theo. His work-calloused right hand was probably on his dick at that very moment. A heady hit of power consumed Maddie – a power as intense as the climax of the woman panting hard in the chair before her.

Maddie loved making him wait…

****

You won’t have to wait much longer before you can buy Making Him Wait!

The paperback and eBook versions will be out by the end of January…just watch this space..

***

Many thanks for dropping by today to help share in my excitement! Cakes and vino all round I think!

Kay xx

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