Tag Archives: erotic romance

The Fully-formed Birth of Vina Jackson

After some IT glitches and a two-day game of email tag, it’s my pleasure to welcome the multi-facetted Vina Jackson, author of the exciting new erotic romance Eighty Days Yellow to a Hopeful Romantic.

As I write, EIGHTY DAYS YELLOW by Vina Jackson is no 6 on the Sunday Times bestseller list and has been in the top ten for the last three weeks.

But if a computer hadn’t engineered for two total strangers to sit quite by chance on opposite seats on a train from London to the provinces, John Grisham’s new novel might be no 6 instead and, worse, Vina Jackson would not exist at all!

Fate certainly moves in mysterious ways.

Vina Jackson is actually two writers, writing together under a pseudonym.  Yet until a few months ago we had never even met.

It all began when one of us was invited to attend a literary festival outside London, while the other decided to attend at short notice and purchased a ticket, on the recommendation of a friend.

So, on a very early Saturday morning as winter was turning into spring, both of us arrived at Euston station, with tickets booked online, only to find a train which was at best barely 10% full and our allocated seats facing each other while the rest of the carriage barely housed half a dozen other travellers. Any of us could have moved elsewhere in the carriage to enjoy more privacy, but then this is Britain and we all probably felt it would be rude to do so.

For hours we all sat together, respectively reading, daydreaming, listening to music on iPods or eating, saying not a word to one another only to discover, several hours afterwards at the literary festival while drinking the welcoming coffee, that the three of us that had all been grouped together by the bookings computer were attending the same event… and had all taken separate taxis from the station.

Several weeks later one of us contacted the other for some professional advice and thus two strangers who had met by chance on a train began emailing regularly.

We were both writers with a penchant for racey romance, and in passing one of us mentioned an unusual story about an antique violin that they’d read in a newspaper. Perverse minds think alike and we both thought there was a stub of an idea for a novel there, ready to be written. And then we moved on to other matters, stories to write, lives to live, other things to do.

A few months passed and the idea to write a novel together  kept bubbling away so we decided to meet up at London’s Groucho Club and later exchanged ideas and suggestions over meals in Chinatown.  And it was then that we agreed to write four opening chapters, in alternate voices, and to then send it to a literary agent to see if there was anything there to interest a publisher.

We came up with the character of the violin player busking in the Tube and the university professor who is captivated by her playing and we improvised some way they could meet. Thus Summer and Dominik were born. And so was Vina Jackson. Along with a proposal and several sample chapters for two novels, featuring their adventures in the world of sex and BDSM.

The literary agent Sarah Such loved the material and signed us up, submitting to London publishing houses within a few days. And overnight the first offers began coming in. As the level of interest grew, so did the size of the offers as well as the suggestion that it could even make a trilogy. So Vina Jackson agreed to write a third volume, and soon a six-figure deal was done with the wonderful folk at Orion.

By then, of course, the collected works of E.L. James were weaving their magic on the bestseller lists and Orion suggested we could maybe write all three books in 3 months. Vina didn’t protest too much and agreed, to ensure the trilogy would be published within weeks of delivery of the respective manuscripts, and catch the zeitgeist.

The first volume EIGHTY DAYS YELLOW was published in early August, and its sequels EIGHTY DAYS BLUE and EIGHTY DAYS RED are out in September and October. It will soon be published in the USA by Open Road Media and so far has sold translation rights in ten territories, including Germany, France, Italy and Japan.

It was never meant to rival Fifty Shades of Grey, as neither of us have even read it! But we did want to write a strong erotic romance, with believable characters and non-stop action, which we hope is well-written and entertaining. And that you enjoy reading the EIGHTY DAYS trilogy.

Meanwhile beware who you sit opposite next time you take a train.  You may end up writing a racey romance trilogy with a complete stranger…

Blurb:

Caught in a frustrating relationship with a man who can’t accept her for who she is, passionate, flame-haired violinist Summer finds release in her music. She spends her afternoons busking on the underground, lost in the works of Vivaldi or Mendelssohn. When her violin is damaged beyond repair, Summer receives a surprising proposition from Dominik, a university professor with powerful desires, who has been captivated by Summer ever since he heard her perform. Dominik will replace her priceless violin, but only if she agrees to play for him in a private concert.

Unable to deny the chemistry between them, Dominik and Summer embark on an intense affair full of daring twists and turns, as unpredictable as it is thrilling. For Summer it is a chance to finally embrace her long-denied dark side, but she’ll soon learn that where there’s pleasure must come pain. And can a relationship born of such all-consuming passion, ever really survive?

Exhilarating, seductive and tantalisingly bold, EIGHTY DAYS is a love story that will leave you breathless for more.

Buy Eighty Days Yellow here:

eBook:

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.com

Print:

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.com (pre-order)

 

 

 

The Taming, Part 3 of The Pet Shop Trilogy, is FREE!

I’m very excited to announce another FREE taste of my critically acclaimed novel, The Pet Shop! Alongside the original novel, The Pet Shop is now being offered by Xcite in a limited Kindle edition three-part series. Part Three, The Taming, is now available for FREE for the next five days on Amazon beginning on Wednesday 15th August. And, since Xcite is only too aware that Pets are addicting, to help feed your addiction for hot kinky romance, Part One, The Gift, and The Secret Life of Pets, are just £.77 each in the UK and $1.19 in the US.

(Just a quick reminder. If you’re an early bird on the other side of the Pond, the U.S. link may be available a few hours later than the UK link because of the time change. But be patient, and naughty FREE Pets will swiftly be coming your way)

Here’s a little teaser of what you’ll find in The Taming. Remember, though the download of The Taming is free, it’s anything BUT tame.

Blurb:

Reclusive philanthropist, Vincent Evanston has told Stella James she can have Vincent or she can have Tino, the Pet, but she can’t have both. The problem is Stella wants both. As the complications of wanting both sides of a man who can’t allow himself to be whole mount, Stella must walk the thin line that separates the business of pleasure from the dangerous business of the heart or suffer the consequences.

Excerpt:

‘It’s not bad enough they saddle me with Tino, now I get his female counterpart.’ The familiar handler in his black suit pushed his way in and started tugging at Stella’s clothes. ‘Do I have torture me written across my forehead? Is it bad karma? I swear I don’t know what I did to deserve you two.’

She tried to shove his hands away. ‘Look, I just can’t do this. I was told that once I was out I was out, and I just can’t do this. I want out, alright?’

‘Bullshit! Of course you can do it, and it’s not alright, now get out of your clothes and stop talking or I’ll have to spank your arse, and don’t think I won’t do it. Fuckin’ hell, first Tino, then you, and now both of you. They don’t pay me enough for this.’

Suddenly she stopped fighting him and he continued with the stripping. ‘Did you say Tino? Tino’s with you.’

‘I’m speaking English, aren’t I?’ He gave her a resounding smack across the arse he’d just bared and shoved the trench coat at her. ‘Get into this, and you’d better manage to at least act horny when you get there ‘cause I don’t have time to strap you into the Foreplayer.’ He smacked her bottom again, then wrestled her into the coat and jerked the sash tight. ‘Now give me your keys and let’s go unless you want your arse and Tino’s spanked soundly by your keeper for being late when you get there. Tino might like that just fine. Not sure how your tender little bum would hold up.’

She was trembling so hard by the time she got to the van that the handler had to help her in. He had taken the trench coat and shoved her into the large pet carrier before she realized she was sharing it with Tino, who scooped her to him in a tight embrace, and the delicious scent of the big Pet filled her nostrils and made her cunt clench and her pulse race. But it was Vincent’s smell too. Her nose wouldn’t be fooled this time, no matter how differently the two of them behaved. And the clench in her cunt was followed quickly by an even harder clench in her heart and a knotting in her stomach as she thought of waking up to find him gone. What the fuck kind of game was he playing?

With a growl that sounded too wild to belong to a Pet, she shoved her way out of his arms and elbowed him in the stomach generating enough momentum, even in the confined space, to make him grunt. The look of hurt on his face made her even more angry. How dare he be hurt? She wasn’t the one who ran away, and she’d had about enough of this emotional bate and switch. When he reached for her again, she bit him, hard. He sucked air and flinched. She wasn’t certain, but she thought he might have actually had to wrestle back a curse.

She shoved her way to the far corner of the pet carrier, banging her head on the side as the van driver took off. The handler, who stayed in the back with the pets pounded on the top of the cage, clearly misunderstanding what was going on.

‘Tino, you keep your cock to yourself until I get you there, you hear me? If I see any sign of spunk, or smell it, I’ll tell your keeper to tie that cock of yours in a knot and make you hold your load all weekend, you got that?’

Not if hell freezes over will he find any spunk, at least not any having to do with her, Stella thought.

She could see Tino’s pulse pounding against his throat, and his chest rose and fell like he would hyperventilate. And he was hard. He was always hard, damn him!

She pressed her cheek to the side of the Pet carrier and tried to ignore the way his gaze bore into her, tried to ignore the press of their legs, which was unavoidable in the tight space. And the smell of him. My god, how could she ignore the smell of him? She dreamed of his scent. She masturbated to thoughts of his scent, and here she was trapped with it, and aching for it, and still so furious she could barely breathe. She wanted to yell and scream at him, she wanted to know why, why he had left her. What game he was playing?  Instead she sat with her back pressed as tightly to the slats of the carrier as possible and tried to ignore him.

The next time he reached for her, she slapped him, slapped him hard enough to make her hand sting.

‘What the hell are you two up to?’ The handler rattled the pet carrier again. ‘If I have to drag you both out and wear the spanker out on your bottoms, don’t think I won’t. Now knock it off.’

Stella pulled herself as far into the corner as she could get and tried to ignore the smell of Tino’s arousal, made even more obvious by his erection bobbing against his thigh, the thigh he made no effort to pull out of her space. She shoved at him. But he didn’t budge. She tried to turn her back on him as much as she could, but he pushed in still closer, not allowing her to ignore him.

He kept pushing at her and pushing at her until she kicked at him, which was useless with bare feet in such tight quarters, but he took the opportunity to pounce, nearly upsetting the pet carrier. The handler cursed and uttered a string of threats, most of which Stella didn’t hear because she was fighting to keep from being pinned under Tino.

The van screeched to a halt with both pets being shoved by the momentum to the front of the carrier. Then the carrier door flew open and Tino was wrestled out by the handler and the driver. ‘Goddamn it, I said knock it off!’ The driver held Tino while the handler hooked his collar to a short lead and a pair of hand cuffs that were attached to the wall of the van, then he stormed out of the van and Stella could hear him shouting into his mobile something about all hell breaking loose.

Tino ignored it all, as though nothing else in the world had his attention but her. His gaze was now unreadable, possibly a little more like Vincent, but then how the hell could she tell who he was playing at. The van driver stepped out to have a fag, and she took advantage. ‘You left me, you son of a bitch. You left me without telling me why.’

She swallowed the last word as the door to the van burst open and the handler shoved his way back in to sit down next to Tino. ‘Lucky for you two miscreants the Professor assures me he’ll have no trouble handling misbehaving Pets. I think he rather likes the idea. The thought of you two being soundly disciplined definitely warms the cockles of my heart.’

The driver got back in and the van headed back down the M 25. This time the look on Tino’s face was utterly wounded, a look she couldn’t bare. She closed her eyes fighting back tears.

From Amazon.com

The Taming

The Secret Life of Pets

The Gift

From Amazon.co.uk

The Taming

The Secret Life of Pets

The Gift

 

Unconscious Research by Lucy Felthouse

There are a couple of types of unconscious research, I guess. One is where you’re asleep and dreaming and your dreams become fodder for future stories. Another is where you experience something without ever intending to use it for a story, and yet when you’re writing, you find yourself wanting to include those experiences in your work.

Now, my dreams are completely bonkers and make no sense at all, so if I used that sort of research in my work, I’d probably come up with something as nonsensical as Alice in Wonderland. However, the other sort of research is increasingly creeping into my work. And I’m not talking about what I get up to in the bedroom—that’s private! I’m talking about going out somewhere and seeing things, travelling, etc.

The most recent example of this is my story Finally Found, which appears in the recently-released Lover Unexpected: Sappho Edition anthology from Evernight Publishing. A friend forwarded me the call for submissions as she knew I wrote a lot of lesbian stuff, and the call sounded great so I gave it a go. And I came up with a lesbian erotic romance set in London, a place I visit and explore fairly regularly, despite the fact I live over 120 miles away.

The tale begins in The Ritz, a place I haven’t been inside (and probably never will, unless I win the lottery or get a six figure book advance), but have seen from the outside. So my imagination has furnished the interior. Other parts of the story, however, are drawn from experience. For example, the characters, Natalia and Ashleigh visit Fortnum and Mason and poke fun at the products and their prices (I’ve done that) and have perused the erotica section at Piccadilly Waterstones (I’ve done that several times, and tidied it up, too!). At the time, I never thought about writing the places into stories, but the ideas just came into my head at a later date.

So the second unconscious research method is absolutely brilliant for me, as I’m always visiting cool places and exploring them. So who knows what experiences will creep into my future stories? You’ll have to keep reading my books to find out! 😉

Excerpt:

Chapter One

Natalia smiled as she caught sight of the familiar redhead sitting in the hotel bar. Thankful for the thick carpet masking her footsteps, she walked towards her friend from the back, ensuring she wouldn’t be seen. Then, she slipped her hands over her eyes.

“Guess who?”

An excitable squeak, then, “Oh, I don’t know. Is it Scarlett Johansson?”

“Hmm, close, but not quite. Guess again.”

“Oh, shut up you silly cow, and come here.”

With that, the redhead stood and turned, throwing her arms around Natalia and pulling her into a tight hug. “Hey, gorgeous. I missed you! How are you?”

“I missed you too, Ashleigh. I’m good, thanks. How about you? You look great.”

Disentangling from their embrace, Ashleigh looked down at her clingy black top and skinny jeans and shrugged. “Thanks. I’m okay, I guess. All the better for seeing you. It feels like forever! Come on, sit down. Let’s get a drink.”

They sat down, and a waiter appeared. Natalia suspected he’d been waiting at a safe distance until they’d finished their enthusiastic greeting.

He smiled. “What can I get you ladies?”

Natalia looked at her watch. “You know what, it’s Saturday and it’s after twelve. I’ll have a glass of white wine please.”

Ashleigh piped up. “Make it a bottle. Thanks.”

The waiter nodded, gave a little bow and walked away.

“So,” Natalia said, settling back into the plush armchair, “how was your journey? I always find getting into London a total nightmare, but it’s not so bad once you’re here. The Tube may be sweaty and crowded, but it’s damn fast!”

Ashleigh nodded. “It was all right, actually. The train into the city was on time and not very busy, and, like you say, the Tube is quick and easy. It was pretty stress-free. You?”

“Much the same. I’m just glad we’re finally here. I can’t believe it’s been a year since we’ve seen each other. It’s so easy to forget that when we talk almost every day.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just life gets in the way, doesn’t it? Especially as we live so far apart. And then there was all that stuff with Kayla…”

Natalia didn’t know how to respond to that, so she just nodded sagely. Kayla had been Ashleigh’s live-in girlfriend, until the discovery of some text messages and emails tipped Ashleigh off that she was being cheated on. Despite all of Kayla’s pleas and declarations of true and undying love, Ashleigh had no intention of being a doormat, so she’d thrown Kayla out, and that was the end of it.

Of course, Natalia had known that Kayla was going to be thrown out before Kayla did. As soon as Ashleigh had found the incriminating missives, she’d gotten straight on the phone to Natalia for advice. And as much as Natalia wanted to tell her friend to get the hell rid of the cheating bitch, she also wanted her to be happy, so instead she’d asked if Ashleigh if she thought she was being too hasty.

“Fuck no,” Ashleigh had replied, “as far as I’m concerned, she’s destroyed my trust, and once that happens things are never the same, so it’s not worth it. And if I meant that much to her, she wouldn’t have done it, would she?”

Natalia had been inclined to agree. And although she was glad Kayla was off the scene—even aside from the fact that Natalia had been in love with Ashleigh since their University days, she’d never liked Kayla—she still hadn’t plucked up the courage to confess her own feelings to her friend. She probably never would—there was too much at stake. Their friendship spanned over ten years, and Natalia didn’t want to risk losing that.

*****

Lover Unexpected: Sappho EditionGirlfriends share lots of things, including their most sinful secrets. When those secrets involve love, lust and long denied desire, sparks are sure to fly. And sometimes, there is no denying the need for a woman’s touch. In this volume you’ll find seven delicious stories of sensual, daring women who open their hearts to discover love, fulfillment and satisfaction—closer than they expected.

More info and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/lover-unexpected-sappho-edition/

*****

Lucy FelthouseLucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story – so she did. It went down a storm and she’s never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, Decadent Publishing, Evernight Publishing, House of Erotica, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour, Seducing the Myth, Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Fulfill Me by Victoria Blisse

Fulfill MeBlurb:

Caitlyn is out to get what she wants and she desperately wants Nick Casey, Star of Dobsons Digs the biggest soap on TV. She will do anything to get into his life but one thing, one person always stops her. His annoying yet handsome PA Mike.

But there is more to Nick and to Mike than she could ever have first imagined. She ends up on a journey from one side of BDSM to the complete opposite and all the time she’s just looking for the man who can make her whole.

Buy links:
All Romance eBooks
Amazon UK
Amazon US

Excerpt:

“Yeah, I’m not enjoying it like I used to, and I have other ways to bolster my income. I’ll let someone a little younger and a lot less long in the tooth take over my place.”

“Wow, now there’s a scoop for the tabloids.” I laugh but Mike stiffens, and I realise it was a silly joke to make.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. Well it was a joke. I’d never ever—I just wouldn’t.” I trip over the words in my eagerness to make things right.

“No, no you’ve gone too far.” His hand squeezes my arm and his eyes don’t show the same anger as his words. “You’re going to have to be punished for speaking out of turn you impudent wench.”

Ah, now I know what he’s doing and the pit of my stomach is rolling like a machine full of lottery balls.

“I’m so sorry, sir, please don’t punish me. I’ll watch my tongue in future, I promise.”

“You will do wench, but you still need punishing. Stand up.”

I jump up off the sofa like I bounced up on a broken spring.

“Now young lady, follow me.” He stands up and walks me back out into the corridor then across it to a room I’ve not been in before.  One of many actually from the length of the corridor and the doors along it. When the door swings open, I can see clearly that it’s a study.

An old wood desk dominates the middle of the room. It’s back faces a massive window which shines as black as Whitby jet filled with the night sky.  In one corner of the room is a simple high backed chair with no arms. This is where he chooses to sit down and after shutting the door behind me I stand before him.

“Now only a young, foolish child would speak without thinking, so you’ll receive a childish punishment. Over my knees now young lady.” I hesitate, biting my lip. “NOW!” He barks, making me jump. “Don’t question me young lady, or you’ll not be able to sit down for a fortnight.”

I concede and lower myself awkwardly to his lap, the bottom of my clothed breasts rubbing the outside of his thigh, my pubis pushing gently against the other.  He quickly raises my skirt, folding it back over my bottom then he rips down the satin black knickers beneath.

He rubs his hand gently over the curve of my buttocks and I bite my lip, not wanting to moan out in case it enflames him more. I’ve never been spanked before but my cunt is wet and my nipples aching. However I’m not sure how much pain I can take. The idea is pleasurable, but the practicalities of it all make me anxious. I want to enjoy it, it’s obviously something he enjoys; I can feel his erection against my stomach. But I just don’t know how much punishment I’ll be able to take.

Suddenly, the thought is shocked from my mind as his usually soft hand slaps down with stinging harshness. It shocks me but it isn’t too uncomfortable. The next slap creates more heat than sharpness. I gasp and press my pubis forward trying to escape the next slap. It burns and I really start to question how much I can take.

It’s then that he gently caresses my burning rump and I mewl like a contented kitty until he snaps his hand back and slams it against my flesh several times in quick succession making me yelp with the stinging pain.

His fingers skim over my heated flesh then dip between my buttocks, tracing down between my thighs as they fall open for him, dipping into the moisture pooling there and gently teasing my clit.

“Such a horny little slut, enjoying her spanking.” He tuts and slaps my buttocks hard once more. I feel tears testing the corners of my eyes and want to yell out for him stop but I hold it in while the next two slaps fall.

“Stand up, wench.” He commands and I comply, though my legs feel shaky, and my knickers are dangling between my knees, making it decidedly difficult to stand up and keep my balance at the same time. He grabs my arm and drags me; well he never gets far in front of me so it’s more like he’s roughly leading me actually, until we reach the hefty desk. He kisses me and whispers in my ear. “You’re so fucking sexy, damn it.” He presses me down against the cold hard wood until my cheek is lying flat against its shocking coldness and my breasts are pressed down hard against the surface.

“Spread your legs,” he commands and I stretch them as far as I can, which actually isn’t far with the knickers hobbling me. Mike flips up my skirt exposing my still stinging buttocks to the air and his eyes. His soft lips kiss the reddened flesh evoking a gasp at the tenderness in the action. I close my eyes and wait for what will come next. I hear the clink of a belt buckle, and hear him curse as he struggles to undo his zip. I wonder if he’s having problems getting his hard on out. I could feel its stirrings pressing against my stomach when he spanked me, and I know it’s a solid robust thing, not made for bending or getting out of tight places. Getting into them; well that’s a whole different issue. The tell-tale crinkle of a condom packet heightens my anticipation. I know he’s going to fuck me and I can’t wait.

The Story Behind Kay Jaybee’s Hot New Novel, ‘The Voyeur.’

It’s my pleasure to welcome back to A Hopeful Romantic, the fabulous Kay Jaybee here to tell us the story behind her hot new novel, The Voyeur. Welcome, Kay. Do tell!

A huge thanks to the wonderful Ms. Grace, for allowing me to gatecrash her site. Today I’m going to share with you the ideas that led to the conception of my second novel, The Voyeur (Xcite, July 2012).

Wealthy business man and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is intent on turning into 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 the backs of his willing slaves, 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 what hold does the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club, Anya’s previous employer, have over Mark? A place Anya was only 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’d left behind them all over again; and while they do, Mark will watch…

The idea for The Voyeur saw its first glimmer of light back in 2007, when I wrote a two part story called Fantasy 13, for the excellent erotica web site Oysters and Chocolate. These full-on BDSM parallel adventures, both set in the ‘Discreet’ S&M club, were subtitled Clara’s Story and Anna’s Story– and now form the backbone of Chapters One and Two of The Voyeur.

As anyone who has read my work will know, I love writing BDSM stories, and for some time prior to penning the mini- series Fantasy 13, I’d toyed with the idea of setting a piece within a specialist club, which I’d decided to paradoxically entitle, Discreet! The only thing holding me back was that I was at a loss for an original story angle.

About the same time, I was sat in a cafe (as ever!), covertly people watching. A woman about my age was frantically scribbling down a list. I assumed it was a shopping list; but then I began to wonder- what if it wasn’t? What if it was something more interesting? Maybe it was a list of all the things she wished her husband, lover or girlfriend would do to, or with, her?

There was no stopping my imagination once I’d had that thought. Within the hour I had created Mark, a business man who kept a secret notebook in which to compile all his darkest desires.  He doesn’t necessarily want to take part in any of these fantasies- he just wants to see them take place in front of him.  The ultimate voyeur!

So, you could say that The Voyeur was originally a mixture of ideas gleaned from my long standing desire to write a story set in a sex club, and observing a woman jot down a shopping list in a cafe!!

Of course, once Mark existed in my imagination, I needed to create some willing assistants to make his dreams come true- and so PA Anya (originally Anna), and Housekeeper Clara, were born! Two professional, intelligent women, who think they know exactly what they are letting themselves in for- but do they?

The original Fantasy 13 for Oysters and Chocolate told the stories of Clara and Anna as they experienced their employer’s two-pronged final erotic dream. In The Voyeur however, this original ultimate fantasy, becomes the twelfth item on Mark’s list. He has something far more challenging for his employees to endure for fantasy 13- and a dark motive behind his reason for it…

Here’s an extract to tickle those visual taste buds… To their horror, Anya and Clara have just been told that they have to repeat many of the fantasies they thought they’d left behind them. In this section of Chapter 3 we find the girls about to retake fantasy 2 while Mark looks on- it’s torture by erotica…

Excerpt:

Reclining in his chair, Mark raised his arm as if he was about to start a race, and gave the first order. ‘Strip.’ 

With practice born of repetition, the women divested themselves of their clothing, heaping their discarded garments onto the bed behind them.

Mark took a moment to study his staff, and then pointed to the foot of the four-poster bed. Understanding the unspoken request, the women stood, face to face, one metre apart.

Anya could feel her heart rate quicken further as she regarded Clara. It didn’t matter that she had enjoyed the feel of Clara’s skin a hundred times before; all that mattered was feeling it again, and soon.

‘As you will remember, you must remain exactly where you are, without touching each other, without making a sound. All you have to do is listen and refrain from moving.’ Picking up a well-thumbed paperback of erotic short stories from the bedside table, Mark took his time leafing through the pages to find the section he’d decided to narrate to his staff.

‘Even though Gail had been expecting it, the ring of the doorbell still made her jump. Wiping her palms apprehensively down the back of her jeans, she went to greet her guest.

‘The smile that met Gail as she opened the door turned into a beam of approval as Becky’s eyes scanned Gail’s snug-fitting red top and black jeans as if she had X-ray vision. “Wow, that’s one sexy vest, honey.”

‘Gail’s face flushed, but she managed to swallow back her natural inclination to dismiss a compliment, and let her own eyes roam over her visitor. Becky, in blue jeans and a plain black figure-hugging T-shirt, which displayed her cleavage to perfection, looked fantastic. Her recently washed and fluffed hair smelt mildly of lemon, and her face looked fresh and keen.

‘“You look pretty hot yourself, come in.” Becky followed her host into the small hallway that led to the lounge.

‘Gail was thankful for the background music she’d put on, for now they were here, face to face, just out of arm’s reach, an awkward tension hung in the air. They simply didn’t know what to say to each other. Surprising herself by being the one to break the silence, Gail spoke quietly. “This is ridiculous. Come here.” Catching hold of Becky’s hand, feeling how cold it was despite the heat of the room, she pulled her down onto the short blue sofa.

‘They still didn’t talk, but now it didn’t matter. As Gail sat, her legs hooked up under her, her body whorled toward Becky, everything within her immediate sight became blurred around the edges; this girl’s face, her clear green eyes, her mouth, the hands that began to reach out to Gail …

‘As Becky’s fingers reached her cheeks, Gail was snapped back to reality by their tender touch on her pale flesh. Placing her own hands on Becky’s shoulders, Gail ran them up each side of her neck, until she was cupping her face. The desire to kiss this person, this woman, was overwhelming. As her face came to Gail’s, Becky muttered, “You still want to?”

‘“Oh yes.” Gail hardly even breathed the words as their lips came together and their eyes closed.

‘The goose-pimples that had been spotting Gail’s arms tingled, and every nerve-ending flickered as a supple tongue darted against her mouth, and soft hair stroked her face. Her lips would have been happy to keep doing this, to kiss this person endlessly, but Gail’s body had other ideas, and after a few moments she could no longer sustain the leisurely pace.

‘Her kisses became firmer, and Becky, picking up on Gail’s urgency, reciprocated with equal fervour. Their hands, everywhere at once, began a thorough exploration of each other. Kneading tits, sliding hands beneath shirts to feel bare skin against their virgin fingers, nipping at each other’s neck, trailing hands lower, caressing crotches through thick denim, they touched whatever they could reach without giving up the kissing that became more and more passionate.

‘Finally breaking away, panting, their eyes serious but twinkling with mutual lust, they stood up …’

As he read, Mark, who knew the passage he was reciting so well that he really didn’t need to have the book in front of him, watched the girls’ bodies react; their teats hardening, their breasts swelling. Gratified that they hadn’t yet wavered from their position, he launched back into the manuscript, continuing to observe Anya and Clara carefully as he read …

‘Reaching out again, Becky dragged Gail’s top from her shoulders. Copying the action, Gail drew a long deep breath as she saw Becky’s black lace chemise, an exhalation that was echoed by Becky, whose emerald gaze had locked on to Gail’s bright red satin bra. Only a second’s visual appreciation passed, however, as, with unspoken understanding, they freed their breasts.

‘Gail’s hands leapt to her companion’s perfectly round yielding chest. As she made contact with Becky’s globes, the neat beige tips pushed back against her palms. Becky let out a husky groan of yearning, bringing her own hands to the other woman, her little fingers rubbing around Gail’s dark areolas in delectably torturous circles.

‘Desperate to find out if the taste of a tit was as she imaged it to be, Gail knocked Becky’s hands away, her lips rushing forward on a collision course for her guest’s right nipple. The texture of female flesh between her teeth sent a thrill gushing through her, turning Gail’s pussy from damp to wet as she gently kissed all around the teat. Savouring Becky’s sigh of contentment, Gail turned her caresses to pinches and bites, making her lover gasp as her hands continued their investigation of the mouth-watering body that was responding to her so readily. A voice at the back of Gail’s mind was asking her how the hell she knew what to do, but she ignored it, more concerned with continuing her research.

‘Becky’s arms hung limp at her sides as Gail pushed her back onto the sofa, lifted her hips, and began to pull down her jeans.

‘Gail’s throat became Sahara dry as she revealed Becky’s ruby and silver-studded naval. Pausing to kiss it, she continued removing the denims until she was faced with a beautiful, black lace-covered pussy. Nothing mattered now except seeing what lay under that small triangle of fabric. With a quick glance at Becky to make sure she still wanted to proceed, Gail pressed a firm palm over the knickers, feeling her stomach muscles quiver as she ran a single finger beneath the waistband. Becky’s breathing became laboured as Gail peeled the lace away from her crotch.

‘The smoothly shaven pussy that met Gail’s eyes seemed to ask for attention all on its own. Gail’s fingers obliged, examining its secret folds. Her touch revelled in the unfamiliar sensations, and her nose instantly loved the sweet aroma as her fingers uncovered the erect clit. Leaning closer, Gail blew air across its tip, making Becky whimper as moist lips met her pussy. Lapping up the sweet juices with delight, Gail’s hands snaked up Becky, massaging each breast.

‘Murmuring her pleasure with short mewls, Becky’s body began to jerk. Her involuntary movements increased as Gail speeded her caresses, gliding a finger inside the wet snatch, as Becky, with a cry of joy, came around the thin digit while Gail continued to stimulate her clit …’

Anya’s toes clenched as she fought the urge to shuffle her feet. Her entire body could feel the echo of Becky and Gail’s imagined stimulation. Before the reading had started, Anya had adopted the position experience had taught her she could maintain for a long time, with her hands together in front of her. Now, as Mark’s words slunk over her, the PA felt her sticky palms suction together. Resolute that she would not fail, she was equally desperate to touch Clara. Anya began to wish that she had focused her eyes on her lover’s feet rather than on her slim, porcelain waist and perfectly oval naval.

Clara, her neck bent, was studying the patch of carpet just in front of Anya’s painted toenails. Her hands, linked behind her back, dug into her palms as she did her best to block out Mark’s low, sensual voice; trying to think about anything but the intensely erotic scenario that was being read to them.

Distracting herself, Anya began to mull over where Mark had hidden the stopwatch. She was sure there’d be one hidden somewhere, counting off the seconds until either she or Clara caved in and moved. It was probably in his pocket, but Anya didn’t dare lift her gaze enough to see if the tell-tale circular bulge to his jeans pocket was there.

As Mark lingered over a paragraph detailing the fictional women licking each other out, Anya’s crotch twitched faster. She could almost feel the described contact for herself, and guessed from the visible tensing of her stomach muscles that Clara was fighting a similar battle.

Trying hard not to dwell on how wet her partner might be, and wishing she’d been bound so that her forced inactivity was easier, Anya attempted to picture the pile of paperwork on her desk, and the massive number of emails that would be cluttering up her inbox while she was away from the office. Yet her attempts at such practical thoughts were washed away by Mark’s kinky recital …

‘Gail couldn’t believe how incredible it felt, as a girl stroked her inner thighs and snatch with languid strokes of her agile tongue. Unable to keep her hands still, she reached down to the top of Becky’s head, but, unable to reach her, moved her fingers to her own breasts, massaging them in time to the gloriously frustrating movements between her legs …’

It was Clara’s foot that shifted first. Just a tiny fraction. If Mark hadn’t been expecting it then it might have gone unnoticed, but he remembered how Fantasy 2 had ended last time, with the minor wriggle of his housekeeper’s toes, and it was with an expressionless dip of his head that he witnessed history repeating itself.

Clara inwardly cursed her unbidden movement. She was sure she had managed to remain motionless for longer than she had last time, but the proximity of Anya, and the temptation of the words Mark had been weaving around them, had been too much.

Now that Clara had moved, Anya felt the tension ease from her rigid frame, and risked flexing her fingers a little. Mark’s cut-glass voice ripped through the sound of the soloist singing her haunting tones from the stereo. ‘I expected you to last longer, Miss Hooper. You have six months more experience than you had the last time you took this test.’

Instantly both girls became stock still in the face of their boss’s disappointment.

‘I have not finished reading. You will take one step closer to each other. You will not touch each other.’

Anya could almost taste Clara’s skin, it was so close, and the heady aroma of her partner’s snatch was wafting temptingly toward her. Mark resumed the torturously arousing monologue as she battled harder than ever not to grab the woman in front of her.

‘Becky smiled with approval when she saw Gail’s busy fingers and, slipping a hand under Gail’s backside, sought out her anus. Lifting her head for a second, Becky began to probe at her lover’s arse, pushing her finger in further, her eyes trapped into Gail’s, gauging her reaction to the extra intrusion. “Is that OK?”

‘“Oh fuck, yes!” Gail lifted her hips to help accommodate Becky’s hand, anxious for her friend’s mouth to return to its previous location.

‘As if reading her mind, Becky bought her lips back to Gail’s pussy, just as she thrust one finger between her butt cheeks and another into her slick cunt.

‘Gail’s body jacked, colours flashed behind her closed eyelids, and her hips rose higher as, for the first time in her life, a female triggered an orgasm that took full control of her.

‘Recovering themselves, the women looked at each other, exploding into a fit of friendly giggles as they observed their dishevelled state.

‘With a mischievous wink Becky said, “So, darling, was it good for you?”

‘Adopting a mock male tone, Gail replied, “Oh yes, babe!”’

Three whole minutes passed at a snail’s pace before Mark finally closed the novel and, without a word, opened his notebook instead.

Anya and Clara redoubled their efforts not to move, intimidated by the presence of the red pen Mark now held. Consulting the stopwatch that had been in his pocket as Anya had predicted, Mark wrote something in his book, his face set in grim concentration. The girls held their collective breath.

Clara, her head now held marginally higher than usual to relieve the tension in her neck, rested her eyes on Anya’s breasts. It was all she could do not to throw herself at them. Trying to convince herself that her feet were superglued to the floor, the housekeeper shut her eyes. Clara knew she shouldn’t, but at the same time she was all too aware that if she kept them open for even one more second, there was no way she’d be able to resist grabbing her lover – just like she had last time.

The girls could feel Mark’s eyes burning into them like lasers. He hadn’t said anything about Clara’s eyes being closed, but then he didn’t have to. She already knew she’d lost this one. All that mattered now was damage limitation. If she could prevent herself from grabbing Anya’s tits, then maybe she would have managed to score enough to satisfy Mark.

The music was abruptly switched off, and the quiet of the room engulfed the girls as Mark stood up. Clara, her eyes still closed, could picture her boss as he examined them. There would be no obvious disapproval on his face. There would be no expression at all.

Anya wasn’t sure how they’d done. She thought perhaps they’d survived for a few more minutes without moving than last time, but her memory could be playing tricks. At least Clara hadn’t grabbed her, although part of her wished she had, just to see what Mark would have done. If she was honest, it was only luck that it had been Clara who fidgeted first. She’d been only seconds away from breaking herself.

‘Open your eyes, Clara.’

Obeying immediately, Clara’s crystal clear eyes bored straight into Anya’s, seeing her own uncertainty about their performance reflected back at her.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours, he sat back down to write again. Only when he’d finished scribbling did Mark deliberately and carefully close the notebook and address the women.

‘It won’t have slipped your memories, I’m sure, that the last time you partook of Fantasy 2, I let you have free reign upon the bed straight afterwards.’

Mark sat on the foot of the bed as he spoke. ‘However, I happen to know that you have already enjoyed each other since we met in the study. Therefore, I’m sure you would much rather rest.’

The girls said nothing. The dull desperation for each other was screamingly obvious.

‘At least your discipline has improved in the past six months.’ Only now did Mark’s disappointment in them begin to show. ‘You haven’t questioned me on that, or asked me how I knew. But I must enforce what I told you earlier. If you are to survive Fantasy 13, you’ll have to develop more stamina than you have showed this morning, ladies.’

Mark got up and gestured for his companions to follow him from bedroom four into their small bedroom. Once there, he took a pair of handcuffs from the drawer and snapped then around a speechless Anya’s wrists. She bit her lips closed. Why was she being cuffed? She’d won – hadn’t she?…

 

If you fancy finding out how Anya and Clara came to work for Mark, and what other challenges they have to endure, you can buy The Voyeur from Amazon UK, Amazon.com and all other good e-retailers.

 

Thanks again Kd, for letting me visit today.xxx

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http://www.amazon.com/The-Voyeur-ebook/dp/B008QBZ42Y/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1343547384&sr=8-1&keywords=The+Voyeur+kay+jaybee