Tag Archives: Voyeurism

Fulfilling the Contract is All Decked Out for Vegas!

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I’m very excited to prance about and show off the gorgeous cover for Fulfilling the Contract, which is book two in The Mount Trilogy and the sequel to The Initiation of Ms Holly.  And to celebrate the occasion, I’ve added a juicy excerpt to titillate and entice. Fulfilling the Contract will be out in paperback 13 February, just in time to make Valentine’s Day sizzle, and in eBook even sooner! Who says what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?

Blurb for Fulfilling the Contract:Fulfilling the Contract

Limo driver, NICK CHASE’s bad night gets worse when he picks up TANYA POVIC at a bar only to discover the explosive sex they share lands her in breach of her very strange contract. Blaming himself that Tanya will lose the large completion bonus earmarked for her mother’s surgery, Nick negotiates with her boss, the tough and mysterious ELSA CRANE, to allow him to fulfill Tanya’s contract and secure her bonus.

Elsa runs Mount Vegas, which offers voyeuristic pleasures for a price. Nick’s job, with Elsa and her quirky team, is to give clients something worth watching through the plate glass windows of Vegas’s luxury hotels and beyond. The learning curve is steep and kinky. As Nick and Elsa’s relationship sizzles and ignites more than hotel room rendezvouses are exposed. In this sequel to The Initiation of Ms Holly things get positively dangerous as Rita Holly and her team are called in from London to lend a helping hand. Bets are being placed. Will Nick fulfil the contract? Will he and Elsa take the gamble? And will they find a way to win at the high stakes, double or nothing, game of hearts?

Excerpt from Fulfilling the Contract:

Elsa looked down at the specs she had discussed with Mrs. Keyser. It was another virgin loses her cherry to a surly billionaire scenario, which would be nicely spiced up by having the head of The Mount in London and the owner of its club playing the billionaire and his virgin. Rita and Edward’s involvement would raise Mount Vegas’ profile considerably within the organization, and it would be a voyeuristic treat for the whole team.

Originally she’d had Tanya in mind for the roll of the virgin with Deke playing the brusque billionaire Dom – he looked the part. Thankfully the idea had totally intrigued Rita and Edward or Elsa would have ended up playing the virgin. Though she never thought of herself as anything but worldly, she had the look that would have worked. She loathed the role of playing a sub almost as much as she loathed the role of a virgin. With Tanya gone, though, she supposed she should get used to it. There was at least one billionaire and virgin fantasy a month since Fifty Shades of Grey.

She forced her attention back to Mrs. K.’s specs, which she had entitled The Billionaire Buys a Virgin Bride.     

The plot was simple. The billionaire buys the virgin as his bride to pay off her family’s gambling debt. Of course that bit was all in Mrs. K.’s head. The actual fantasy would begin in the Wedding Chapel. Mrs. K. wanted that part included, with a kinky little scene before hand in which the billionaire checks out his merchandise just to make sure he gets what he paid for. Well that was a nice touch, Elsa thought. She wrote down a few notes about a discrete, but filthy feel-up and probe of the little innocent to make sure she really was a virgin under all that white taffeta. Elsa added some very naughty ideas about the groom guiding his little bride’s virgin hand to the fly of his tux for her first fondle of his very expensive junk. It was shaping up nicely for a billionaire/virgin fantasy.

After the happy couple say their ‘I do’s’ there would be hot sexy foreplay in the limo on the way to the hotel. Elsa could imagine lots of dirty talk on the part of the billionaire about his new bride’s lovely tits and her tight little slit that he was all bulging and hard to fuck. All the while the little virgin would be blushing and squirming and moistening the crotch of her wedding panties, or lack there-of – oooh, that was better yet, make the little dear walk down the aisle without any undies!

‘Oooh Mr. Chase, please be gentle with me. I’ve never been with a man before and you’re sooo biiig,’ Elsa said out loud in a mock-girlish voice. Foreplay in a limo. Of course it would be Nick Chase she’d think of. After he had stormed off last night, she’d given herself a serious finger fucking when she was alone in her bed trying to unwind after a day that had gone on forever. It wasn’t just the thought of him coming into Mount Vegas to finish out Tanya’s contract, all knight-in-shining-armor-like, it was that he’d even consider such a thing to begin with – blaming himself for Tanya’s bad behaviour. Okay, so he’d left in a huff when he found out what fulfilling her contract would involve, but he left with a hard-on, and one it didn’t take 20/20 vision to see. Five would get you twenty he’d had to stop and jerk off before he got back home. She wondered if he’d even made it out of the building before he’d had to answer the call.

God, how she’d love the chance to handle that cock! Wouldn’t it have been something if Nick Chase had agreed to finish out Tanya’s contract? Elsa’s panties definitely got moister at the thought. Wouldn’t she love the chance to train that boy up? With those drowning-deep cinnamon eyes and that slightly mussed bedroom hair that had the bronze shimmer of desert heat about it. Training him would be no hardship. He’d be a huge hit with the clients. She wished she’d have found a way to get that shirt off him. It was quite obvious the man was built for filth, and he was not the kind of a man she figured spent hours in the gym to get that way. He spent time in the sun, she’d bet. The bit of research she’d managed before he stormed the castle to rescue Tanya said that he owned a place with a couple acres outside town and that he’d inherited the limo business from his father. Not his first choice, the Vegas limo business, especially not for someone with Nick’s background. She wondered if his hands were calloused. She loved the feel of callouses against her more sensitive bits. She crossed her legs to get a good squeeze where she needed it and thought about guiding Nick Chase’s fingers to those sensitive bits to check for callouses.

britbabes_kink_hotnraunchy_4It was hard to get comfy in her chair as she read through Mrs K.’s specs. Seriously she would almost be willing to play the submissive virgin if Nick Chase were her billionaire, and certainly he had that surly billionaire look about him. And oh the way he did guilt! Mrs. K. would burn out her vibrator in a fit of lust at the very sight of him ‘de-virginizing’ Elsa. Elsa was just reaching in the drawer for her own vibrator to see where fantasies of Nick Chase ‘de-virginizing’ her might lead when there was a knock on the door, and her second in command stepped in without waiting for her invitation.

He smiled as she stuck the vibe back in its place. ‘You thinking about last night? I had a good wank afterwards. Chase is hot. I don’t mind saying I was disappointed to see him leave so quickly.’ He nodded down to the drawer where she kept her toys. ‘You want me to give you a few minutes? Or I can take care of you if you’d like.’

‘Thanks, Pike.’ She offered him a wave of her hand. ‘I’d love to take you up on it, but today I really don’t have time, so it’s a good thing you got here when you did. Now that we’re short-handed, I’ve got to re-shuffle everyone for tonight’s little adventure. Deke’s already set to play our big-name magician. Turns out he even knows a few magic tricks, but Tanya was supposed to be his buxom assistant who gets it up the ass in the disappearing cabinet.’

Pike nodded. ‘That was a nightmare to get cameras set up in. Leave it to Darnell Peters to complicate things.’

‘Yes but he pays well and he’s kinky as hell. And he adores watching Tanya.’

Pike sat one tightly jeaned ass-cheek on her desk and smiled down at her. ‘But he likes watching you even better.’

‘She was prepared for the role. I’m not.’

‘That never stopped you, Elsa. You’re great at pulling an act out of your ass. You’re upset about letting Tanya go, that’s all.’

She stared past him at the wall behind. ‘It was the right thing to do, Pike.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘If it had been me, I’d have done it a long time ago. Nobody’s that good. Personally –’ he leaned over the desk and brushed a quick kiss across her lips ‘—I’m still hoping our lovely Mr. Chase will have spent a sleepless, guilt-ridden night and rush back to us all ready to take on Tanya’s contract. I saw you slip the card into his pocket.’

She forced a little laugh. ‘Always an optimist, aren’t you, Pike?’

‘Always a pessimist, aren’t you, Elsa?’ He stood and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. ‘I think we haven’t seen the last of Mr. Chase. If I were to venture a guess, Tanya’ll harass him until the poor guy’ll take on her contract just to get her to leave him alone.’

‘Or he’ll take out a restraining order,’ Elsa said. Then she added. ‘Even if he did come back and he did agree to finish out Tanya’s contract, he’d never last two months. Hell I doubt he’d make it through one week.’

‘It’s Vegas,’ Pike said. ‘I’ll bet you he’ll call back in less than 48 hours, probably unable to shut out the guilt or Tanya’s badgering, or all the nasty thoughts he’s had about what he saw last night.’

Elsa was reminded again why she loved her second in command so much. He had a way of always convincing the pessimist in her that the glass was half full. ‘Alright,’ she said. ‘I’ll bet you we won’t see him again. If I win, I get one of your fabulous back rubs.’

He offered her a filthy look. ‘With all the trimmings?’

‘All the trimmings,’ she said.

‘And if I win, like it or not, you’ll be my sub in the next dungeon fantasy. Though I suppose before we shake on it, I should warn you I’ve stacked the deck.’

‘Oh?’ She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

‘I accidentally sent Tanya Mr. Chase’s cell phone number last night before I went off to beddy-bye.’ He stopped her response with quick kiss. ‘And no need to play shocked. I got it from you, my lady. You’re not the only one who has access to Mount Vegas research.’ He made quotation marks in the air with his fingers to emphasize the word “research.’” He looked at her from under a dramatically drawn brow. ‘You weren’t thinking of calling him yourself, were you?’

‘I certainly wasn’t.’ She replied. ‘And frankly, I don’t think it’ll matter even if you did give his number to Tanya. He fucked her once and got more than he bargained for. End of story. And he doesn’t have to answer his calls, so yes, Mr. Smart Ass. I’ll take your bet.’ She stretched in her chair and twisted her neck from side to side. ‘I really could use a good back rub.’ She offered him her hand.’

‘It’s a bet then,’ he replied shaking on it. Then he dusted a kiss across the back of her knuckles. ‘I’ll have the dungeon made ready.’

She reached up and gave his cheek a playful slap. ‘You do that. I always like my people to have a well prepared work place. Now can we take a look at this week’s agenda and see how we can minimize the loss-of-Tanya-damage.’

To Rome With Lust, Book 3 of The Mount Series, Coming November 2014
To Rome With Lust, Book 3 of The Mount Series, Coming November 2014

Guest Blogger: Kacey Hammell

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WMS_blogtourGood morning! Thank you for sharing Sweetest Salvation on your blog!

I recently received an email from a reader who enjoyed Sweetest Salvation – then took me to task for making her “bawl like a gosh darn baby”. I truly am sorry, Pattie! LOL

While I’m thrilled the book evoked so much emotion in her, she asked 2 very tough questions, which caused me to journey back eleven years.

Her questions were –

  1. How did you know the right pitfalls, despair and grief of loss to write about?
  2. If any of the emotion was your own, how did you overcome your loss?

She and I talked for a couple days off and on, but I’ll give summations of my responses.

As many have now discovered, the dedication in the book is for the “real Andy”. Her story was hard to write and I remember watching her when she lost her son and husband. As her friend, it was hard to feel so helpless in helping her years ago and in writing Sweetest Salvation, it gave me some healing along with her.

However, I did foster some of the emotions of loss from personal experience as well. I understand all too well how hard it is to “return to the living” after great loss.  In the last eleven years, I lost – my paternal grandfather to prostate cancer, my brother nine months after that in a house fire, my maternal Grandmother to lung cancer, then my father six weeks after my Grandmother to a burst aneurysm and my paternal grandmother two years after that. I still say she died of a broken heart, unable to truly get over losing the love of her life.

To watch my father cry the first time when my Gramps died nearly broke my heart. I’d never seen my dad shed a tear before.  Then nine months later, to watch both of my parents stand in a cemetery burying their own son … *deep breath*  Very unfair. Children are supposed to say an eternal goodbye to their parents, not the other way around. And my father’s death, the hardest of all, led me down a path of anger, uncertainty and I had a really hard time understanding why I was suffering such losses in my life. I took a hiatus from writing for about four years after his death. Truthfully, there was day to day living, caring for my children and all my focus was on them and taking care of my Mom and the cattle business my Dad had run for decades. And both my Grams…tough old birds who I treasured, and learned to be strong from. *g*

Losing them all was so hard on me, as well as my family.  There are still days I have to wonder about the “whys” of all the loss in my life. Deep down I do understand that it’s a Circle of Life and we’re only put on Earth for a certain length of time. So while writing Sweetest Salvation, some of Andy’s pain and despair came from what my dear friend went through but a bit of my own suffering tied in with her. I honestly don’t know if I could have written SS without the losses in my life. Until my paternal Grandfather passed away, I hadn’t been to a funeral in my life.

But in the end, if writing SS brings someone else some peace of mind and understanding, then I’m pleased with that. I was able to heal a bit more while writing it and I’m hoping those who read it accept it for what it is … a journey of learning to live again.

*****

Sweetest Salvation

Contemporary Erotic Romance/Light Bondage

Content Warning: Contains Voyeurism, Spanking, Multiple Partners

ISBN: 978-1-77130-330-9

Available at Evernight Publishing / Amazon.com (and more links below)

*An Evernight Publishing Editor’s Pick*

 

Excerpt © Kacey Hammell, 2013

“Mr. Sullivan is waiting for you. He said you’d know where to go.” He smiled and winked.

Cheeks on fire, she gave him a small nod and walked ahead. She moved into the bar area and looked around. The place was packed tonight.

There were a few people she recognized, but most were new faces. Hunter’s business was certainly thriving.

Bridget caught sight of her and waved. Andy did the same and turned to the left, down the hall that would take her to room fourteen and Hunter.

Movement caught the corner of her eye, and she looked to her right. At a table in the far corner, Paige and Nolan sat with another couple. She missed a step, but gained her balance again. She hadn’t thought about seeing them again. Paige waved and her husband smiled bright.

The couple’s kindness and understanding arced across the room. Andy smiled and waved back. They’d been there for her the other night. She’d be forever grateful for it.

Reaching the room, she took a deep breath and knocked. Hearing Hunter’s gruff, “Come in,” she turned the knob.

The room, similar to the one she’d used the other night, had a warmer feel to it. The fireplace ablaze, the heat of it welcomed her.

Andy’s gaze swept the room. Furnished with a full living room set, she loved the royal purple and black colors of the furniture and curtains than anything else. This room conveyed privacy and self-indulgence. Her heart rate increased just thinking of all that might have been done in this room.

It was made for sex. Especially with a glass display case that took up the most of wall. Inside were dildos, anal plugs, collars, floggers, cock rings and more toys of pleasure.

Andy’s gaze landed on Hunter where he sat in the center of the couch, arms stretched over the back of it.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Her gaze narrowed on his and she shut the door behind her. “Don’t you sweetheart me, Hunter. And get that look off your face.”

“What look?”

“That self-righteous look. I might be here, but not for the reasons you think.”

“Then why are you here?” he questioned, his gaze unwavering.

“I wanted to tell you in person that your idea isn’t going to happen. We’ve been… friends too long. You’re Patrick’s best friend. It’s all kinds of wrong.”

He leaned forward, arms resting on his powerful thighs.

His red t-shirt molded his shoulders and the cuffs of the arms looked snug around his biceps. Damn him for being in such great shape.

She shivered, nipples tightening. She needed to get away from him.

“There, I’ve said all I have to say. Goodbye,” she muttered, and turned back toward the door.

Hunter was quickly behind her, arms encasing her as his palms pressed against the door and preventing her retreat.

His breath was warm against her ear. Andy wished she’d left her hair down. At least she wouldn’t be able to feel his breath on her neck.

A shudder ran through her. “Let me out, Hunter. I need to leave.”

“Why? You were so desperate to remain a member and be here the other night. I’m simply offering a safer solution. Me instead of strangers,” he rasped against her ear.

“I don’t have to worry about much with strangers. At least they aren’t people I have to see after the sex is over.”

Hunter pressed in closer behind her, which pushed her farther against the door. She’d always been claustrophobic. And right now, being caged in by this man, made it even harder to breathe than if she was locked in a closet. His chest was firm against her, his mouth against her ear, and his hoarse voice soft.

Her thighs rubbed together and her clit chafed against her thong. The string along her ass was snug. All she had to do was turn around and take what he offered. She wanted a cock inside her.

Dear lord, this was Hunter.

Could she step over the invisible line and take what he offered?

He was attractive, always had been to her. Hell, she’d only been married, not dead. She appreciated a gorgeous man when she saw him.

Hunter always treated with her respect and friendship. She didn’t know how much he dated but had heard women at the club mention his prowess in the bedroom. He could probably give her everything she needed. There would be a sense of safety with him at least.

And her body’s reaction to him today, while surprising, knew what it wanted. While she was sure it was a bad idea for them to journey down this path, she was overwhelmed by the sudden realization that not just any cock would do.

She wanted Hunter. Wanted only him inside her.

Her breath hitched and her lungs filled, making it hard to breathe. No, she didn`t have the courage to give into this man.

She needed to get out of this room and away from him. Grabbing the doorknob once more, Andy yanked.

Hunter’s palms never moved from the door, but in her hasty movements, his chest aligned tighter against her back.

Pressed against the door, she turned her head, her right cheek resting on it as her breasts pushed against her bra. The hard surface scraped against her clothing, which abraded her nipples. The urge to purr and rub against the wood was overwhelming.

Hunter’s body pressed against her; the cock cradling her ass told her that he was just as affected as she. His length was hard, solid. His hips dipped and shoved against the crack of her ass.

“Andy,” he whispered in her ear.

She closed her eyes, willed herself to push back against him until he let her go.

Her eyes opened when she realized her hips moved against his. Her pussy quivered and her stomach clenched. There was no sense in fighting a losing battle. She wanted him.

*****

Sweetest SalvationBlurb:

After the deaths of her husband and child, tragedies that she blames herself for, Andrea “Andy” Sheaver has shut herself off from the world. The only place she finds any relief from her shattered heart is Club Splendor, where she and her husband often frequented together.  There, Andy submits to pleasure and pain in situations so her grief is forgotten for a little while.

But Hunter Sullivan won’t stand idly by and watch Andy self-destruct. A friend of her husband, and the owner of Club Splendor, Hunter has kept his love for Andy hidden for years. He refuses to think of her at the club, cold and detached as she’s become, looking for an easy fix to take away the pain in her heart.  Hunter wants her to vibrant in life again and sets out to prove he is exactly who she needs.

Buy Links:

Evernight Publishing / Amazon.com / Amazon.ca  / Amazon UK /

aRe / Bookstrand / B&N / Kobo

~~~

Canadian author, Kacey Hammell is a multi-published erotic romance author who writes mainly in the Contemporary Erotic/Romantic Suspense genres.  She is a true romantic at heart.

Where to find Kacey…

Website / Facebook / Facebook Author Page / Twitter / Amazon / Goodreads / Pinterest

Celebrating Summer Sex Al Fresco

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In honour of the summer we almost had here in Britain, I’m going to dedicate my next few blog entries to filthy fun al fresco, K D style. Most of you know me well enough to know the kind of things I like to do in the heat of the summer, and the kind of things that inspire me to write all manner of naughtiness.

Likewise, most of you who know me will recall that my husband and I just got an allotment this year after three long years on the waiting list. Now that the hard work is beginning to pay off and we’re indulging ourselves with runner beans and sweet corn and courgettes and cauliflowers, I thought a little garden porn might be the perfect way to kick off this little celebration of outdoor smut. And why not go straight to the spot, with a little allotment garden porn, from my Sweetmeat Press story, Allotted Views. Who knows, after reading this, you might find you want to put your name on the waiting list for an allotment. Enjoy!

Allotted Views Blurb

When the mysterious ‘Woo Woo Man,’ JONATHAN takes on the thin strip of bramble-infested ground in the Blue Bell Street Allotments, veg gardener extraordinaire, ROSE, whose bedroom window overlooks his ‘small holding,’ wonders what idiot would take on such a project. When she ‘accidentally’ sees him chanting a bit of woo-woo and having a midnight wank under a full moon in his newly rotovated plot, she suspects his methods aren’t found in any RHS manual.

As watching his late night garden antics becomes more for voyeuristic pleasure than for sussing out sound horticultural practices, and as Jonathan’s garden grows more exquisite with every wank, Rose begins to wonder if there just might be something to a little sex woo-woo in the garden. But can she learn Jonathan’s secret without him learning hers, or will she be forced to come clean?

Allotted Views Excerpt

That night I went to bed wondering if I should maybe take up wanking in my own garden. I’m always happy to try the latest horticultural techniques, and often with surprising results, but I must have been really tired to even consider the masturbation method as a valid way of upping garden productivity.

Later, I was awakened by whispers. My heart went into overdrive with a rush of anticipation. I rose and walked on tiptoe to the window to peek out. Sure enough, there was Woo-Woo Man, but this time he wasn’t alone. The woman he was with, for lack of a more fitting term, was voluptuous. If he was woo-woo, she was woo-woo squared. She wore a dark gown with a tightly fitted bodice from which her very ample breasts mounded like large scoops of vanilla ice cream crowded into a small dish. The dress must have been corseted at the waist because it beautifully accentuated hourglass hips and buttocks that looked like they must be completely luscious for her to sit on or for anyone else to fondle. The long skirt swished with a silken hiss teasing its way between her thighs as she walked. There was a mountain of pale curly hair caught up on top of her head in a generous clipping of crystals and feathers. ‘Oh, it’s lovely, Jonathan.’ Her voice was a honey-comb-dipped contralto that I felt down low between my hipbones.

‘Then you’ll do it, My Lady?’ He took her hands in his, raised them reverently to his lips and kissed her pale knuckles. ‘You’ll bless it with me?’

‘Of course I will, Jonathan, darling, of course I will.’ She stood unmoving while Jonathan slid the white poet shirt he now wore off over his head and fumbled his way out of his cargo trousers. It was the way his cock rested unsubstantially drawn up against his balls that told me the man was nervous. But his spiky nipples told me he’d get over it.

With a melodramatic flutter of her long, heavy sleeves, My Lady lifted her arms into the air, and motioned Jonathan to do likewise. Then her voice got even lower as she earnestly entreated the blessing of the earth for the feeding of her children. That done, she held her arms out to each side, palms delicately cupped, facing upward, and nodded her consent, casting a demure glance down the pale valley between her breasts.

With fingers that were visibly shaking, Jonathan undid the tight cup of the bodice and My Lady’s bosom tumbled free just as she was saying something about all of us suckling at nature’s breasts. With one hand, fingers sparkling in sliver spirals of rings, she pulled him to her, first one tit and then the other. Each time he nursed and caressed and slurped her ripe strawberry nipples, she spoke a few words into the silent midnight air. And each time she gave him suck, his cock stretched and expanded and reached for her until it pressed its way into the dark satin folds of her skirt.

Then she stepped back slightly and offered him her hand. With his cock leading the way, he guided her to stand in the middle of the garden between the beans and the brassicas. There she squatted wide legged, and for a second I thought there would be more urea, but instead of peeing, she took a handful of soil, lifted it into the air in front of her and let it fall between her fingers. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but suddenly she stopped speaking, stood and motioned him to her again.

This time he undid the rest of the dress, and it fell around her ankles like a chrysalis being shed, brushing cabbage leaves and bean poles in its fullness. Then with him holding her hand, she stepped free of the dress standing tall and shimmering and completely naked in the muted touch of the sodium streetlight. She was Rubinesque in the most exquisite way. There were no protruding bones, no sharp edges, just soft pillowed curves that begged to be touched and nuzzled and fondled.

I had a lover once who’d made a fortune working in the city. One year, for my birthday, he took me to a very expensive hotel. I remember languishing on a bed mounded with satin pillows of every shape and size. I remember how after too much expensive fizz, he undressed me slowly and settled me into the middle of them all. I felt them against my cheek, hugging the sides of my breasts, sliding feather-soft over my nipples, shoving in between my legs as he removed my panties and arranged me like I was some kind of jewelry displayed on a bed of velvet. I relished their softness and resilience as he carefully positioned them beneath my hips until I gaped before him at the perfect angle for his explorations, at the perfect angle for his mounting. The contrast of his hard thrusts and pants over me and the lush, forgiving caress of the pillows beneath me was sensory overload that sent me into orgasmic bliss. Sadly the man wasn’t nearly as memorable as that delicious mound of pillows.

My Lady was like that. There was no part of her I wouldn’t have loved to pull to me and bury my face in. Almost unconsciously I found myself leaning forward toward her, nearly out the open window. She walked naked amid the ordered rows of tomatoes and carrots. She fondled the long leaves of the sweet corn, stroking them to her breasts, lifting them to her nose and inhaling their scent. She ran bare toes upward along the feathery greens of the carrots like a ballerina, each movement, each interaction making her more desirable, more exquisite in the shadowy light. And yet, Jonathan didn’t touch her, though his erection told me he wanted to badly enough. He simply followed her around with a proprietary step made comic by the bounce of his cock.

At last she turned to him and he nearly ploughed into her. ‘Jonathan, my darling, I offer myself to you for the blessing of this lovely garden.’

When he hesitated, she chuckled softly and ran a hand invitingly down the expansive curve of her hip. ‘Come now, darling, there’s no need to be shy. Our pleasure is a part of the magic.’ She turned her back to him and bent forward so that the lush pillows of her buttocks faced him, faced my window, and I grabbed at the buttons of my night shirt, clawing it free so that my own small breasts could take in the night breeze, so that my pussy rubbed unhindered against the chair I’d left in front of the window after Jonathan’s first worshipful wank – just in case.

‘Don’t be shy,’ she whispered. ‘Just for tonight, I am the goddess, you are my consort, and the great yoni that birthed all things into existence will be honoured by our offering. My pussy is yours until the magic is completed.’ Perhaps it was her sudden use of nasty language in a situation which up until now had seemed rather formal and reverent in spite of the chavish undertones of sneaking a fuck in the allotments after hours. But more than likely it was just the close proximity of her luscious bare arse cushioning said puss. Propriety gave way to lust. I held my breath, and my cunt trembled and clenched as he reached for her.

Allotted Views can be purchased as a stand-alone novella or in the illustrated Immoral Views anthology.

Buy Allotted Views Here

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Lucy Felthouse Caught in the Act

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Kojo Black from Sweetmeats Press asking me to write a story for an anthology seems like such a long time ago now. Flattered that he’d asked me, and even more so when I found out who my fellow bookmates were going to be, I then started to panic. The theme was voyeurism – so broad, and therefore a ton of scope. My brain flailed about madly trying to come up with something. And then, finally, my poor abused grey matter came up with the goods.

I’d write about dogging. Of course, never having been dogging, I knew there’d be a lot of research to do, but I was up to the challenge. My laptop keys were bashed, and Google and its deliciously dirty results were exploited. Before long, I knew everything I could ever need to know about dogging – including where my local meeting places were. Let’s just say that I’ll never look at that car park in the same way ever again. 😉

The next challenge was making sure my story would extend beyond my usual 2 – 4k short story range. Kojo wanted something between 7 – 12k, if I remember rightly. Since then, I’ve penned much longer works and am clawing my way towards novel length works, but at the time, I was terrified. I needn’t have worried. It meant that I could create a lot more build up to the climactic scene, which, consequently meant I could tease and torment the fuck out of my lead character. Poor Dave. He never knew what hit him. I turned a perfectly respectable Police Constable into a voyeuristic slave to kinky sex.

And he loves every minute 😉

Here’s the blurb and an excerpt from my story, Caught in the Act, to whet your appetite:

Blurb:

Police Constable David Beckett is just a normal guy, living a quiet life. His only excitement comes from his job – and even that’s not exactly been a barrel of laughs just lately. That is until his colleagues burst into the office one morning, full of tales from the night shift. Tales that cause Dave’s curiosity to get the better of him. Some idle surfing on the Internet opens up a whole world that Dave never knew existed – and he’s fascinated. After watching an amateur video, things escalate quickly and Dave finds himself drawn into a kinky lifestyle that could cost him his reputation – and his job.

Excerpt:

When the door banged open and a group of his colleagues piled into the room, Police Constable David Beckett jumped, almost spilling his coffee onto his computer keyboard. He’d been enjoying a nice, peaceful game of Solitaire before beginning his shift and now they’d screwed his concentration, not to mention his high score. He closed down the game resignedly and wryly observed his workmates as they got whatever was riling them out of their system.

They were jostling and nudging one another, and there was some serious eyebrow wiggling going on. PC Beckett, Dave to his friends, could only guess that one of the guys had a new girlfriend and was being teased about it. Heaven knows, he’d been on the receiving end of such ribbing more than once, which is why he now kept his – currently non-existent – love life as private as he possibly could. Of course, that didn’t put a complete end to the teasing, as he now had to put up with the occasional joke about his sexuality.

Whatever it was they were talking about, it had gotten the guys seriously excited. As they drew closer to his end of the open plan office, Dave began to pick up snippets of the conversation. It didn’t help him to work out what was going on. In fact, it was like they were speaking a different language. He frowned, wondering if there’d been a TV show on last night that he’d missed and they’d all watched. He wasn’t much of a TV buff and was always the last to catch on to shows everyone else was glued to. But of course they’d all been on a night shift last night, so it couldn’t be that. Dave waited. He knew he’d find out soon enough.

As some of the boys began to move towards Dave’s end of the office, it was like they’d only just realised he was there. Instead of shouting the customary greetings across the room and settling down at their own workstations, several of the PCs congregated at Dave’s desk. They were still wearing stupid grins and Dave was, by now, was getting fed up of being the last one in on the joke.

“So,” Dave said, eager now to find out what all the excitement was about, “what’s going on?”

“Mate!” said Tim, “You wouldn’t believe what you missed last night on shift!”

Sharing stories wasn’t uncommon within the office, particularly if they were funny ones. But in their line of work, there wasn’t much that was classed as unbelievable any more, so Dave knew it was going to be something of note. He raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

Tim continued, obviously desperate to impart the news. “We got a call sayin’ that there was some drug dealing goin’ on in a car park. It sounded pretty big, so we did a raid. Only, when we got there, it wasn’t quite what we expected.”

Tim glanced at the other two guys with him, Jamie and Chris, and the three of them burst into hearty guffaws. Dave looked around the room, and a couple of other officers who must have also been there were peering over at them out of the corner of their eyes, with smirks on their faces.

“Well!” he said, getting annoyed now, “What is it? What happened?”

“Fucking hell,” said Jamie, “keep your hair on, mate. You’ll think it’s funny, too, honest. We’re just sorry you missed it. Go on, Tim, get on with it.”

Pulling himself together, Tim looked back at Dave, his eyes still crinkled with mirth. “Sorry, buddy. Anyway, as I was sayin’, we gets to this car park at the back of the country park, you know the one” – Dave nodded his acquiescence – “and drive in. We’re going in pretty stealthy as we don’t want anyone disappearing off into the bushes so when we pull up, they’re still gettin’ on with what they were doin’.”

He paused for breath, and Dave waited, knowing this couldn’t possibly be the end of the story.

“Naturally, we was a bit confused as to why they hadn’t spotted us yet. Normally they’re a bit more alert, aren’t they?” The question rhetorical, Tim continued, “So we got out of the cars and got closer, thinkin’ surely someone has heard or seen us by now. Personally, I wondered if they were all so out of their trees that they had no idea what was goin’ on. By the time we got on top of ‘em, though, we saw what the problem was.”
Dave raised his eyebrows, waiting for the punchline. It didn’t take long.

“They weren’t drug dealers, mate!” he said, clapping Dave heavily on the shoulder, almost making him headbutt his computer screen. “They were doggers!”

Want more? Check out the buy links for Immoral Views and Caught in the Act.

Lucy 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, House of Erotica, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. 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

Allotted Views and Veggie Wet Dreams

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I already have a reputation for writing garden porn, so when Sweetmeats Press’s fearless leader KoJo Black asked me if I’d write a dirty voyeurism story for the Immoral Views anthology, I knew it had to be garden porn. And here’s why.

Space for veg gardening is at a premium in the urban areas of the UK, and though we live in a bedroom community near London, we still don’t have a lot of space, and we’ve planted up every bit of our garden we can with veg. Every year the lawn gets smaller and the veg patch gets bigger, and we have gardener’s wet dreams of being able to plant all the sweet corn we can eat, or being able to have enough peas to freeze.

Because of where we live, there’s a very long wait for allotments. (For my American readers, allotments are the UK version of Victory Gardens.) We put in for an allotment three years ago. We live in hope. And in the meantime, the lawn still gets smaller.

There are some gorgeous allotments on one of our favourite walking paths set on the edge of the lovely village of Sheer along the Tillingbourne River. Every time we walk that route, we linger and gaze longingly over the fence at the brassicas and strawberries and runner beans and every other veg and fruit imaginable. We do that at every allotment, actually, we give it our best voyeuristic look-see, our pulse rates accelerate, and we talk dirty to each other – you know, compost-type dirty, phallic veg, type dirty, luscious, probing the earth type dirty. Oh yes, how we fantasise!

That was the actual inspiration for my story of Rose, who lives in a big house overlooking the Bluebell Street Allotments, and Jonathan, who is assigned the plot right below her bedroom window. His nasty, unorthodox gardening techniques get Rose’s full attention, and give her hours of filthy, blissful entertainment. But just how secret is her voyeuristic pleasure? Does Jonathan know more than he’s letting on?

Blurb:

When the mysterious JONATHAN takes on the thin strip of bramble-infested ground in the Blue Bell Street Allotments, veg gardener extraordinaire, ROSE, whose bedroom window overlooks his ‘small holding,’ wonders what idiot would take on such a project. When she ‘accidentally’ sees him chanting a bit of woo-woo and having a midnight wank under a full moon in his newly rotovated plot, she suspects his methods aren’t found in any RHS manual.

As watching his late night garden antics becomes more for voyeuristic pleasure than for sussing out sound horticultural practices, and as Jonathan’s garden grows more exquisite with every wank, Rose begins to wonder if there just might be something to a little sex woo-woo in the garden. But can she learn Jonathan’s secret without him learning hers, or will she be forced to come clean?

Excerpt:

Before my eyes, he stepped out of a pair of ratty Birkenstocks and slid baggy cargo trousers off over his straight hips and the pillowed swell of his bottom. He kicked them carelessly to one side. Apparently the occasion had called for commando, and I didn’t have to endure more disrobing before I was treated to the full-on. He was heavy, but not yet erect, hanging as though the weight of his cock was too much to comfortably bear so precariously stretched between his thighs. It sprawled over the rounded outward press of his balls in their cushion of springy curls that looked nearly transparent in the pale light.

The moon was a burnished disk, peeking through the branches of the lime trees on the far edge of the allotments. He stood with his back to it and his expanding personal geography facing my window. Then he raised his head, and my heart did a guilty flip-flop, certain he’d caught me watching. But he couldn’t possibly see me, I reassured myself as he stood there eyes lifted, chest rising and falling beneath the twin peaks of those exquisite nipples, rising and falling almost as though he were about to lift his voice in song and serenade me. But serenading wasn’t what he had in mind.

I held my breath. My pulse was a frantic flutter against my throat. My eyes stung from not blinking, not wanting to miss anything. Then his right hand took control of his penis with a firm grip, a gardener’s grip, a gardener who knew the proper use of his tools. At the moment of contact a shudder ran up his straight spine, and a tight grunt followed by a throaty sigh escaped his parted full lips.

It wasn’t until then that I believed the man was actually going to do it. He was actually going to have a wank right there on his well-rotovated allotment. And at that same moment, my own plan of action became equally evident. I was not going to go back to bed and give the man his privacy, privacy he didn’t even know he no longer had, so would obviously not miss. I was going to stay right where I was and watch. I was going to watch until the fat lady sang, and I was going to have a little diddle of my own. If he could be so brazen to cause such a disturbance just below my window on a work night, then I could be brazen too.

Buy links:

Amazon UK (paperback)
Smashwords