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Posts Tagged ‘Victoria Blisse’

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!

http://smutbythesea.co.uk/scarborough2013/

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

 

Scarborough

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: http://smutbythesea.co.uk/anthology-vol-1/

 

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 http://victoriablisse.co.uk or follow and friend Victoria: http://twitter.com/victoriablisse http://facebook.com/victoriablisse

 

 

 

 

Sunday Snog by the Sea

I don’t often get organised enough to participate in Sunday Snog, but this Sunday is a special treat for me all the way around, and very deserving of a Sunday Snog. It’s special because of the release of a wonderful new anthololgy called Smut By the Sea, edited by two of my favourite people as well as two very talented authors, Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse. And the gorgeous cover art is done by the lovely Fuschia Ayling, who has illustrated the beginning of my novel, Body Temperature and Rising, and very kindly shared some of her work on this blog.

I feel very honoured to have my sexy lesbian story, Skin, included in amongst stories by some of my very favourite writes, all with a seaside theme. My story, Skin, is about an artist’s encouter with a mysterious woman in the middle of a storm. It’s set in Lyme Regis.  WARNING: this  Sunday snog is definitely not for the faint of heart, but for the lusty libido, it’s just the ticket. Enjoy!

‘You must be freezing too,’ Celia said. ‘I saw you drawing the harbor seal on the beach when the storm hit.’ She scooted down to one end of the tub. ‘Come on. There’s plenty of room.’

Before I could ask how she’d seen me when I was sure I was alone, she grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt with wet hands and worried it off over my head, pulling me forward enough in the process that while I was temporarily blinded by my own top, she reached behind me and unhooked my bra. My much larger, much heavier tits spilled forward into her hands as she slid the bra off, brushing her thumbs against my nipples in the process. ‘There, that’s better, isn’t it? Let’s get all those wet and clammy clothes away from you lovely skin. Now stand up.’

I did as she said, and she went to work on my walking trousers, then she slid her hands inside, hooked fingers into the elastic of my knickers and tugged both down. ‘Now step out of them. That’s right. Mmm you smell delicious. You smell like the sea. Somehow I knew that you would.’

As I lifted my leg to step out of the trousers and knickers now pooled around my ankles, Celia did not look away. I could feel her gaze on what nestled beneath my own tight curls. I normally would have been shy. I normally would have tried to preserve my modesty, but I wanted her to see my pussy. I wanted her to see what I looked like down there. She made room for me, and I stepped into the warm sudsy water. Then we maneuvered for space and she, being much smaller than I, scooted closer, lifting her thighs over mine.

That done she leaned up until she was practically in my lap and brushed a kiss against my lips. ‘Please, let me wash you. You have such beautiful skin.’ She ran a finger along my collar bone and then brushed her palm over my left breast and I sucked in a tight breath. ‘You’re so soft and round and full. You look like a woman is supposed to look. I could never look like you.’ Before I could tell her how beautiful I thought she was and how I admired her body, she took the sponge and drizzled warm water across my breasts. ‘Please tell me it’s alright.’

Lyme Regis

All I could do was whimper and nod, as the sponge moved down my sternum and under and around each of my heavy breasts in turn. Then she took up the soap. I sat hypnotized and wet in ways that had nothing to do with the bath as she lathered and cupped and kneaded my breasts until they looked like they were covered with a soapy white shirt. Then she pushed me back, until I lay with my head resting on the edge of the big tub, and she straddled me. Her soft curls brushed mine, as she drizzled water over my breasts and down my belly. She sponged me in soft caressing motions, moving ever lower onto my tummy until I could no longer resist shifting and rocking my hips, grinding my arse into the unforgiving bottom of the tub. She was practically lying on top of me as she let go of the sponge and cupped my pubis with the palm of her hand.

‘Women smell of the sea as men never can,’ she breathed against my face. ‘I love that about women. With women I’m always close to the sea.’ Then she kissed me with just a touch of tongue, just as she wriggled a finger in between my labia and we both moaned into each other’s mouths. ‘You’re so creamy wet.’ She pressed her pussy against my hip. ‘Do I make you that way?’

‘Oh God yes,’ I breathed, pulling her closer, taking her mouth as though I would eat her up.

‘Then let me taste you. I want to taste you, please.’

Buy Smut By the Sea here:

 

 

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.

 

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A Rubenesque Anthology from The Northern Birds, Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse

Flesh Spills and Secret ThrillsFlesh Spills and Secret Thrills by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse

House of Erotica brings you a collection of sexy rubenesque short stories, sensually written by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse. This range of exciting stories will leave you desperately wanting to read on…

Stories include:-

Flesh Spills and Secret Thrills

When Lorella’s boyfriend Chris suggests that she’d look sexy in a corset, she finds the mere thought hilarious. A big girl like her would look ridiculous in such a thing! But as she’s always up for trying something new, she hits the online shops. When her new corset arrives, Lorella can’t wait to try it on and see how she looks, ready to surprise Chris when he gets home. But when she does, she gets a thrilling surprise of her own.

Miri on the Wall

Callum’s a prolific artist, with many beautiful models on his books. But there’s only one that stands out for him – Miri. He’s never had the courage to do anything about his feelings, though. When a client commissions a nude painting of a rubenesque woman, Callum has a dilemma. Miri is the only suitable model – but will she agree to the project? And how will Callum cope with the object of his love and lust being completely naked in front of him?

Carnal Praise

The Bishop is visiting and Caroline is practising her solo when her husband stops accompanying her on the piano and initiates a far more carnal kind of praise.

Down Amongst the Daffodils

Rachel bumps into an old crush from school, Stephen, who’s now a gardener at a local park. They get down and dirty in the grass beside the bright yellow daffodils.

Available from:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
1PlaceforRomance.com
iBooks

*****

More about the authors:

Victoria Blisse: http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk

Lucy Felthouse: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk

 

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What Makes Us Fall in Love

It’s my pleasure to welcome Northern Bird, talented author, and all around fab person, Victoria Blisse, back to my site to to talk about her nasty, yummy, romantic novel, Naughty Rendezvous. I just have one question for you, Victoria, what makes us fall in love?

What Makes Us Fall in Love?

If I knew I’d be a millionaire from selling love potions to every unrequited lover in the world.  However I think I have an idea of what types of thing make us fall in love with a fictional character.

People love a good plot, they love things to happen but every fiction reader knows that they’re reading the events because they want to know what’s going to happen to certain characters they’ve been introduced to and really, really, really don’t want them to die.  So what makes a character compelling? I don’t suppose anyone can ever completely know because we all have differing opinions but I can think of a few essentials that can’t be argued about.

Emotion.   We don’t want to read about people who just wander through life and in erotica shag the odd person here and there. No, we want to read about people who feel. We want to see sorrow and heart ache, laughter and joy and love, most of all we want to relive the wonder of falling in love. Well, those of us who love romance and erotica do anyway.

Personality. I think the one thing that stops me from reading a book to the end more often than not is when the main man or woman is exciting and real as a cardboard cut-out. When you get the prince who is tall, dark and handsome but completely and utterly vapid.  Then there’s the princess who just moons about waiting to be rescued. You know the types I mean, their actions bore you because they’re born of cliché or simply to get to a particular sex act as quickly as possible.

A past.

Even in a very short story I want to know a bit about what happened to the character before the story even began. It’s one of those things that helps you to connect to what’s happening.  It’s also something that’s pretty difficult to do and you also don’t want too much of it either. You don’t necessarily need to know her pet name as a kid or his favourite kind of cake, you know, that chocolate one with the nuts that his mum used to make. It’s got to be relevant.

So there you go, three things I think are essential for falling in love with a character. Now I’m going to introduce you to a friend of mine who I fell head over heels for whilst I wrote out his story. His name is Joe Moore and he’s the star of Naughty Rendezvous http://www.xcitebooks.com/Book/6653/Naughty-Rendezvous.html which is FREE at Xcite books until the 31st May.

First title in the Rendezvous triolgy, part of Xcite Book’s Ultimate Curves Rubenesque Range.

Joe likes to tease and single mum Leanna loves it to. When they meet up for their first official date, the sparks fly but who’s going to crack first? Will Joe’s intimate questions and kiss and run tactics bring Leanna to her knees or will Leanna’s curves, flashed in moments of exhibition drive Joe to rip off all her clothes and indulge his urges?

How will she react to Joe’s domination and will she be turned on by his spankings? She’s going to be a naughty girl, so she’s bound to find out.

Here’s an excerpt for you so you can try him on for size –ooo er!

Sometimes our typing gets sexy. It just happens. We’ll be chatting about our day or a film we’ve watched or a book we’ve read or something like that and then suddenly we’ll be saying how much we long to rip the clothes from each other’s bodies. How we want to kiss long, hard, and without limit. He tells me he wants to taste me, smell my feminine musk up close, lick me there, at the core of my womanliness. I tell him how hungry I am for him. How I want to explore every last crevice, nook, and cranny of his body. I type with fervour, spelling mistakes flying left, right, and centre, until we reach the climax. Then we go back to chatting again, content and warm and snuggled up to each other even though there are a good few miles between us.

I look up from my chocolate and my reverie as the bell on the window-filled door tinkles. When I see an imposing male outline and realise it’s him, my body shudders a sigh of relief as my tummy tightens with the excitement.

The cold early winter air blows in with him and he swiftly shuts the door. Joe smiles over at Kathy, the café owner.

‘Usual, Joe?’ she asks.

‘Cheers,  Kathy,  you’re  a  star.’  His  deep  silken  tone  is tinged with that familiar accent of the American south, bringing a touch of the exotic to the Northern British mundaneness of a cosy café. A girlish smile cracks across the weathered face of the elderly matron; Joe’s charm has worked on her too. I am sure I am smiling in just the same way. Noticing me in the back corner, his slightly squiffy smile is aimed at me now and my body goes as liquid as the chocolate I sip.

He strides over. He moves between the chairs and tables effortlessly, his dark-grey overcoat swishing and swirling around his strong legs as he moves.

‘Oh darlin’, I am so sorry I’m late!’ He smiles at me as he sits down, his grey eyes full of apology and regret. ‘I do hate to keep you waiting!’

‘Ah, you’re worth it, Joe,’ I answer. ‘And besides, I do love Kathy’s hot chocolate.’

He looks down and notices I’m on my second cup. ‘Oh, you’ve been waiting ages. Now I feel awful.’ He moves his cold hand to my thigh and squeezes. ‘I’ll make it worth your while, Leanna.’

‘Mmm, I know you will.’ My voice is huskier than I expect, the effect of his hand upon me, no doubt. ‘So what are we going to do with my precious hours of freedom?’

‘Well, honey, it is your call but please be gentle with me. It’s been a long day.’ He takes a long swallow of his hot coffee and I watch his light-pink lips darken with the heat as he sips.

‘Well, this is going to sound like a come-on … ’ I chuckle as I meet his eye, my cheeks flaring and my heart thudding for fear of rejection ‘ … but why don’t you just go back to my place? We can watch a film, I can throw us together a meal and we can just chill out for a bit.’

‘That sounds perfect to me.’ Joe smiles. He knows what I am thinking. He knows and he agrees to it. My heart does a pentathlon of actions as I hear myself saying, ‘Cool.’

We sit and chat for a while. He asks about Lucy, I ask about his day. We talk about the football, the traffic, and the sudden coldness of this bright autumn day. Joe drains the last of his coffee. His cheeks are more of an even pink now, having lost the harsh, wind-whipped look. His lips are deep, fleshy pink and plump. I look at the bottom lip as it curves under the coffee cup and wonder what it would be like between my own lips, gripped gently between my teeth.

‘Come on then.’ I shake myself from my seedy fantasy and pull myself up straight in my chair. ‘Or we’ll end up sitting here all day.’

‘OK.’ Joe replies, giving me a hand as I slip into my dark-chocolate coat. I watch him button up his own as I pull on my gloves.

‘It’s not far,’ I say as he holds the café door open for me. ‘So you won’t be out in the cold too long.’

He smiles as I pass him and his hand rests gently on my bottom for a moment before it is moved again.

Oh, he is a tease.

If you want to read more from Joe then check out Naughty Rendezvous http://www.xcitebooks.com/Book/6653/Naughty-Rendezvous.html as it’s completely free for the rest of May. He’s a hot dominant male you’ll just not be able to get enough of and I’m trying hard to resist name dropping  Fifty Shades of Grey here but apparently I just failed miserably at that. So I’ll just say it. If you loved Christian Grey then you’ll be bowled over by Joe Moore and that’s a promise. It’s free to find out, so why not download yourself a copy right now? http://www.xcitebooks.com/Book/6653/Naughty-Rendezvous.html

Victoria’s Bio:

Victoria Blisse is a Mother, Wife, Christian, Manchester United Fan and Award Winning Erotica Authoress.

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.

Website: http://victoriablisse.co.uk

Facebook: http://facebook.com/victoriablisse

Twitter: http://twitter.com/victoriablissse

 

 

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© 2018 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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