Victoria Blisse Shares the Story Behind A Proper British Seaside Holiday

I’m delighted to have one of my favourite people and a fab writer, Victoria Blisse back on my site today. She, along with the amazing Lucy Felthouse, have just co-edited the saucy, sexy anthology, Smut By the Sea, in which I’m very honoured to have a story. Victoria is here to tell us the story behind her very steamy contribution to the anthology, A Proper British Seaside Holiday. And if I know Victoria, the one thing we can count on is that the story will sizzle. Welcome, Victoria Blisse.

Hi KD, it’s always a pleasure to visit your place! Today I’m here to tell you all about my story in Smut by the Sea, but as I’m the editor of the anthology I suppose I should tell you something about that, too.

I love Scarborough, I always have. It has wonderful childhood memories for me but now I have visited with my husband I have seriously sexy memories there too. Smut by the Sea was inspired by that special sensuality that comes to the fore when we’re by the sea.  It also gives us a great excuse to hold a great big erotic event in Scarborough.  Yep, if you can make it to Scarborough on the 22nd July 2013 then come over to the library, we’re going to have a very smutty day indeed!

Now, onto my story in this anthology. Unsurprisingly it’s set in Scarborough. It’s a beautiful place, look.



When my idea came to me, though. It didn’t feature sun-soaked beaches and nearly naked bodies. No, my inspiration came from something quintessentially British – Rain. Yep, from the moment Abby arrives in the seaside resort it rains. It doesn’t stop. But it doesn’t stop her from enjoying herself.

Any person who holiday’s in the UK works out ways to enjoy themselves in the rain. I have spent many a wet day in Scarborough and although I have never taken a ride on the open top bus with the rain throwing down I have been on it when it’s been cold, windy and a little damp but that never dampens my spirits. It’s a joy to travel on a bus without a roof on it. It’s just fun no matter the weather!

Sunshine isn’t a necessity to have a good time, I hope I show that in my Smut by the Sea story. And here’s a sexy snippet for you to get wet to. No, no it’s a wet snippet for you to get sexy to…ahem. Something like that anyway.

Here’s the excerpt:

So I set out to Scarborough to revisit the joy of my childhood. Of course my memories were sun-bathed and glorious, but by the grace of the British weather it was throwing it down with rain when I pulled into the familiar white-frilled platform of my haven of sanity.

And it wasn’t just a shower, it kept up raining as I walked around to find a hotel room. It was also the kind of rain with purpose that they get up north. I’d forgotten the biting chill of rainwater impacting forcefully on skin and the short amount of time it takes to get wet, properly wet.

In London I leap from office to Tube to taxis and restaurants and back, I don’t have time to get more than damp. By the time I found a hotel with a vacancy, I was drenched to the skin but I was happy. I’d seen my first glimpse of the tumble-down castle and heard the cry of the seagulls. I smelt the tang of salt on the air and smiled.

I sat in my room a while, it was gifted with a huge window and a view of the sea. As I dried out I watched the sea boil and break, churning white with ferocity and power. I tracked the familiar coast and picked out landmarks, absorbed the nostalgia and breathed. I was so relaxed, sat there in the comfort of my room with my wet jeans steaming on the radiator that my mind slipped to pleasure for the first time since forever. The soft velour chair stroked my thighs and made me feel decadent. I realised that I was sat by my hotel window half naked, thought about it a moment, then shrugged.

I was high up and overlooking the sea but hidden from public view. Who would want to look anyway? I am just a chubby girl; no one ever glances at me twice. And I don’t mind, I’m too busy, then too exhausted for sex anyway. But there in that hotel room I felt stirrings I’d almost forgotten I could experience.

I was hyper aware of my breathing, my bust rising and falling under the plain white t-shirt protecting them. I watched them heave out of the corner of my eye and gazed out at the rain and the sea and the squall. The undulation of the tide seemed to mimic the rise and fall of my chest and I found myself unable to resist reaching up and stroking across my breast. I felt tingles slip down between my cleavage, over the hillock of my stomach to the valley below.

It was wet outside and I was wet on the inside. I could feel my juices clinging to my lips and sticking to the expensive satin of my knickers. I was aroused and it felt fucking good. I knew masturbation was pleasurable, it’s just I’d not done it for so long that it was almost a surprise. I had lost desire but hadn’t missed it until that moment; when I remembered how good it feels as the blood whooshes through you and everything aches and stretches towards orgasm.

I savoured every twitch, every gasp as I rubbed my hands over my body, following the path of my need. I slouched down in the expensive chair and spread my thighs wide. Thinking back it would have made sense to move over onto the huge four poster bed I had paid extra for, but I was too lost in the moment to think straight.

The damp crotch of my knickers slipped over my knuckles when I stroked over the coarse hair of my pussy. I idly thought about trimming it. I hadn’t paid it any attention for months, but I actually liked the wildness that I delved through to press my clit. It was a voyage of rediscovery and I remembered relatively quickly what button to press and which way to rub it. It came back to me exactly the pressure I needed to reach to make me mewl and pump my hips in pleasure. The shuddering orgasm hit and absorbed me, shaking through every cell, waking me from my trance. That is what it felt like anyway. I saw the world in a fresh light as I pulled myself up and grinned.

I hope you enjoyed hearing about my inspiration and I hope my excerpt inspired you. If you want to buy a copy of Smut by the Sea and discover the sexy stories between the covers then check it out here:


Victoria Blisse is a mother, wife, Christian, Manchester United fan and award winning erotica author. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City.

She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories.Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.


Find out more at or follow and friend Victoria:




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