What you’re not supposed to see...Voyeuristic Thoughts with Kay Jaybee

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Tanith's Seaside Memories...

Memories of the Sea

Doing Smut By The Sea was a great chance for me to hark back to my memories of the seaside. I grew up in Lancashire, so for me the nearest coastal resort was Blackpool. Many a school trip was made to Blackpool Zoo, with all the kids pressing against the coach windows wanting to be the first to point and scream “BLACKPOOL TOWER!” But my favourite trips were to the town itself.

Blackpool didn’t have the greatest reputation for its beach, I will admit. Nobody ever went paddling, although we did love the donkey rides. But there was always plenty to do. A day at Blackpool would start at the North Pier, continue down the seafront to Central Pier where you could buy fruit dipped in chocolate (mmm, chocolate-coated pineapple), queue for ages to take the lift up the Tower where you could (hopefully) see for miles and get a souvenir penny with the Tower etched onto it, then carry on to South Pier and the Pleasure Beach theme park, home of the Big One, the Grand National and the Avalanche.

Other times we would come up to visit the Sandcastle, an indoor water park, or towards the end of the year we would drive up at night to see the Illuminations. They started at the south end, but my dad would always drive up to the north end first to avoid the traffic queues. It made sense because, let’s face it, it made no difference to my enjoyment if the first thing we passed was a sign flashing “Have a safe journey, see you next year!”

As an adult, I would go with my in-laws and the local working men’s club to visit Blackpool for a weekend twice a year; they knew a couple who owned a guest house with its own pool. We would book up the place for the full weekend, drive down and spend three days being stuffed with good food and drinking the bar dry. At the top of the street was a tattoo parlour who were responsible for three of my tattoos. Usually at some point the ladies would visit Funny Girls, a drag queen stage show. It was great fun and I’m only sorry we don’t do it any more – the couple sold up and emigrated.

So you might well ask why my short story I Like It Wet is set in Scarborough? Well, much as I loved Blackpool, the stories about the state of the sea water are too deeply ingrained. I couldn’t face the idea of my heroine Talia being drenched in that stuff. Give me a Scarborough wave any day!

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For all you lovelies that don't have your copy of Smut By The Sea - here are those all important links!

Amazon UK
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All Romance eBooks
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Why Hunstanton? Lucy Tell Us Why...

Another scoop! This time it's Lucy Felthouse - author and editor of Smut By The Sea - this week she's asking...
Why Hunstanton?

My story Dodging, in Smut by the Sea is set in Norfolk, England. More specifically, the seaside town of Hunstanton. Now you may ask why I've set it there, somewhere relatively unknown, when I could have chosen Bournemouth, Brighton, Blackpool, Scarborough or Weston-super-Mare.
The answer is simple – I've never been to Bournemouth, Brighton or Weston-super-Mare, and it's been a long time since I've been to Blackpool. Plus, I knew there was a good chance that Victoria Blisse would set her story in her favourite seaside town, Scarborough. I wanted to set my story in Britain, and so I chose the seaside town I know the best, which is Hunstanton. I used to go there lots as a child, with my parents in our caravan. It always had such happy memories that I have been back several times as an adult, too.
Now, when I go to Hunstanton, there are several things that must be done. First and most importantly, is play on 2p machines—I love them! I must also play crazy golf (I'm not very good, but it's great fun, especially if you like pirates and Aztecs), mooch around the funfair, eat candyfloss, dip my toes in the sea and walk down to the Old Town, if time permits.
All these fun things to do helped inspire my story, which is centred around the dodgems in the funfair. My main character takes a trip to Hunstanton with her friends, with the intention of ditching them for a couple of hours so she can try to seduce the sexy guy working on the dodgems. 

Here's a snippet from the beginning of the story:
The thrum of anticipation had been rushing through my body ever since we’d set off that morning. By the time we passed the sign welcoming us to Hunstanton and made our way into the long stay car park, I was almost delirious with excitement. The worst part was, I had to hide it from my friends. As far as Sophia and Chloe were concerned, we’d just come for a nice, fun, girly day out at the seaside. They had no idea about my ulterior motive. And I didn’t intend to tell them. Until afterwards, maybe. I didn’t want to risk them ruining my master plan, or trying to talk me out of it.
So far, it seemed like everything was on our side. The traffic had been light, we’d got a parking space with no trouble, and the sun was shining. It was a perfect day, and I had every intention of putting a cherry on top of all that perfection. A very sexy cherry.
Sophia parked the car, then hopped out to go and get a parking ticket. Chloe and I got out too, stretching our limbs after being cooped up in the car for a couple of hours.
“So,” I said, tilting my head back to catch the rays of the sun on my face, “what’s the plan then?”
“I dunno,” Chloe replied. “I’ve never been here before, you have. What do you suggest?”
“Well, there’s the beach, obviously. There are amusement arcades, mini-golf, the Sealife Centre, a few shops, the old village…”
I deliberately didn’t mention the funfair. That was my destination, and I wanted to go alone.
Sophia rejoined us and put the ticket in the windscreen of the car. “Got everything, girls?”
Chloe and I nodded, and she checked for valuables before locking the doors. “So, do we know what we’re doing yet? I guess we’ll be led by you, Abigail, since you’ve been here before. Did you say you’d visited with your parents, or something?”
I moved away from the car and started to walk down towards the seafront, though purposely leading the girls in the opposite direction to the funfair. They followed without question.
I nodded. “Yeah. We used to come here all the time for family holidays when I was younger, but now we mostly come on day trips. We last came a month or so ago. I was just telling Chloe what there is to do. There’s the beach, amusement arcades, mini-golf, the Sealife Centre, a few shops, the old village…”
“Ooh,” Sophia said, doing a little jump, “I love mini-golf! Do you fancy a game of that before it gets too hot, then we’ll go from there?”
Chloe nodded her agreement, and I said, “I’ll take you there, ladies, but I can’t play.”
“Why the hell not?” Sophia asked. “It doesn’t matter if you’re crap. I’m crap at it too, it’s just a laugh.”
“No, it’s got nothing to do with being crap, Soph. I have a bad back and swinging a club around and doing all that bending is just going to make it worse.”
It was a blatant lie of course. There wasn’t a thing wrong with my back, and I was actually a little gutted not to be having a go on the best mini-golf course I’d ever played on, but missing out was a necessary evil if I was to go through with my devious plan. If it came off, then the result would be a great deal more fun than a round of mini-golf, anyway.
If my post and excerpt have whetted your appetite for some saucy seaside smut, then find buy links here: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/smut-by-the-sea/
*****
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, Decadent Publishing, Ellora's Cave, 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

Sunday Snogging!

For this week’s Sunday snog, I thought I’d give you one of my favourite kisses from A Clockwork Butterfly – this is the part where my heroes, Lena and Angelo, who only have limited time together, share a bond in more ways than one… remember to follow the links to the other snoggers!

Angelo knelt down beside her and carefully started to unwrap the velvet strapping.

Her flesh was streaked red and white where the fabric had sliced into her. He kneaded his thumbs into the ridges, smoothing them out and forcing feeling back into them. Lena breathed in hard as blood rushed in to the hollow welts. The last binding fell to the floor and Angelo massaged her ankles and calves, bringing on a strange pins-and-needles sensation that crept up her legs and washed over her. Lena sighed and lay back as he lifted her leg to his mouth, sucking and nibbling with his teeth and tongue. Lena thought she would melt through the carpet with the delight of it.

“I’m sorry I damaged you,” said Angelo between mouthfuls of her thigh. His eyes looked full of genuine regret.

Lena propped herself up on her elbows. “What do you mean?” She was hurt that he thought that. “You didn’t damage me! You make me whole. You give me what I ask for. If anything, I want more. I want to wear your love like scars of glory. I want you to brand my body so everyone knows I’m yours.” She stopped, suddenly feeling like she’d gone too far. Maybe he wasn’t really into dominating her.

The ridges had faded into smooth red slashes. They too would fade. Lena wished they wouldn’t.

“This is your one minute warning,” the intercom bleated.

Lena rolled her eyes, trying to lighten the tone. “Why does she have to be so severe?” she said, cocking her head and rubbing Angelo’s shoulder.

He crawled over her body, pushing her back on to the carpet. “I’ll do anything for you, anything.” He leaned in and gave her a heart-stopping kiss. The kind of kiss where souls intertwine.

When he withdrew, she felt changed. After all they’d done together, this had been the most intimate thing. He’d let something of himself into her and she to him. He stared into her eyes and let out a long sigh. As the breath ended, the butterflies on shelves around the room slowly opened their wings.

“Ten seconds…”

Lena jumped up, dragging her kimono around her and searching for her obi. As she ran to the door in a panic, he handed it to her and bowed.

“Tomorrow,” he whispered and slowly pushed the door closed. Lena’s fingers trailed down the cold steel.

“Tomorrow…” She mouthed silently as she was pulled away.

If you like what you're reading and want to go further with Lena and Angelo... here's the buy links

Beachwalk Press

Barnes & Noble

Amazon UK

Amazon USA

Thanks for reading the snog! And remember to check out all the others at Victoria Blisse's place x x 

Seaside Memories with Victoria Blisse

Yay! Remember I mentioned that I'd hope to get some of the authors from Smut By The Sea over? Well, here's Ms Victoria Blisse and not only is she one of the authors, but also one of the editors - she's here to talk about her...

Seaside Memories.

Thanks for having me at your place, Tabitha, it’s a pleasure to be here and to be able to talk some more about Smut by the Sea, the awesome anthology we both feature in.  
I would imagine that most British people can think of a time when they went to the seaside when they were little. We’re a small Island country and no one is ever more than a few hours away from the sea.  I remember going on holiday every year from the age of around six.  And just about every year we went to Scarborough.
Scarborough is on the North East coast of  England, in Yorkshire and it is made up of two bays. It has a fetching old castle on it’s headland and contains just about everything you need for a seaside holiday. Including 2 beaches.  It hasn’t changed much over the years, I still visit Scarborough regularly, and the beach front is pretty similar to how it’s always been, with the odd change in bench style and flooring.
I love to sit on the beach and make sandcastles still to this day and it always kept me entertained as a kid. I don’t venture into the sea as much now but that used to be a staple, tucking my skirt into my knickers and going for a paddle.
I definitely don’t do that now!
And food on the front tastes better, I suppose it’s the sea air. Fish is so fresh as it’s caught and thrown into the fryers near enough and doughnuts and Ice cream just seem to benefit from the sea air. You can’t beat eating an ice cream on the beach.
As a child one of my greatest joys was getting to ride the open top bus. All the ones at home were boring and had a roof on but the one’s in Scarborough didn’t and I was always giddy with excitement when we got to ride on it.  I still look forward to my open top bus ride now, and ensure we fit it in at some time during a visit. Even if it means having a wooly hat on!
So when I was thinking of what to write for my Smut by the Sea story it was obvious I’d set it in Scarborough and it’s unsurprising that an open top bus is involved…

Here’s a snippet from my Story “a Proper British Seaside Holiday.”

I sat beneath the Victorian awning of the park across from the beach, drank weak tea from a polystyrene cup and was content. I’ve eaten caviar, visited the classiest restaurants in old London town and never even really tasted the food because I’d always been too focused on saying the right things and sealing the deal. The fact I needed to get a better balance in my life became clearer with every scorching sip.

My view over the bay was obscured by a bus with no roof. Giggling, I remembered how much I loved to ride the open-top bus in my youth. It was always the highlight of the holiday, sitting high and watching the scenery fly by.

I looked up the road and saw a bus stop. Leaping up with great purpose I headed for it. I was going to ride the bus. It was the next step in revisiting my childhood and recapturing my joy.

I jumped on the next one that came along, paid my fare and climbed upstairs. No one was up there. That wasn't a surprise since it was still raining hard. I sat down near the back. I always wanted to sit at the back when I was little and my parents wouldn’t let me. It was fun to let my little rebel take over.

The seat was damp and cold and the water seeped into my jeans. I’d have to go back to the hotel and change again once the trip was over, but then I could maybe enjoy the firm mattress of my bed while I waited for my clothes to dry. Apparently, once you reawaken a libido it doesn’t give you five minutes rest.

It's hard to appreciate the view when rain is slapping you in the face like an irate lover. So I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the harsh rush of wind against my cheeks and listened to the pitter-patter of the drops dancing over my coat. I felt the bus stop, so I opened my eyes. I was near the harbour, fishing boats sitting quietly in the water, huddling together before their next jaunt out to sea.

I heard the clomp, clomp, clomp of shoes on the stairs and I wondered who on earth was as crazy as me to want to sit up in the elements. It turned out to be a very handsome man in a red raincoat similar to my own. He cracked a smile when he saw me, his head just peering over the top of the barrier as he continued up the stairs.

“I thought I’d be the only one crazy enough to sit up here in this weather.” His voice was earthy and deep with a hint of the local accent. I wanted to hear more of it.

“No, no. I’m afraid you’ve not got the monopoly on crazy today.”

“So,” he said, covering the distance from the front of the bus to the back in a few long strides. He was very tall and did I mention handsome? I was sure the wetness seeping between my thighs wasn’t simply the rain. This tall, dark man was whispering to my most feminine desires. “What brings you up here on such an inclement day?”

“Appreciation of life.” I replied with a smirk.

“Ah, that.” He nodded, “do you mind if I sit with you?”

“Not at all, as long as you don’t mind getting a wet arse.” I chuckled uneasily. I shouldn’t have mentioned his bum, I hardly knew him!

“I’m already wet everywhere else, what’s another body part in the grand scale of things?” He sat down and offered me his hand. “Hello, I’m Daniel. You’re not from round here, are you?”

“I’m Abby. I’m from Manchester but I live in London right now.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” he smiled, “the dark around your eyes, the half lingering sense of hopelessness, the rounded vowels.”

I should have been offended but I was stunned by how observant he was.

“You’ve got me,” I shrugged. “I’m trying to rediscover myself. Shit as that sounds.”

“I understand,” he said. “I’m pretty certain we should all spend more time doing that kind of stuff and less time worrying. It has a better yield, anyway.”

I nodded and twisted my fingers together in my lap. I was suddenly acutely aware of his body heat beside me and the scant half inch between his arm and mine.

“Do you live here?” I asked, finding conversation far less scary than silence and my erratic, erotic thoughts.

“Yeah.” Daniel nodded. “Most of my life.”

“Lucky sod.” I said with a sigh.

“It’s not a bad life,” he agreed, though I saw a little sadness in the depth of his darkened eyes. “Took me a while to work that out, though.”

It’s difficult to describe something that happened without word or movement but I realised then that Daniel understood me and my troubles. It’s like his soul recognised the same weakness in mine.

“Look,” he turned his body towards me, “this is going to seem very forward of me but, I’ve been looking at your lips and they’re just calling to be kissed. Would you mind if I just leaned in a touch and rested my lips against yours for a bit?”

Propriety would have screamed at me to shout no and to run like the wind away from the man with determination and longing in his eyes. Luckily I was there with passion, not propriety, and passion urged me to nod my head and lean in to speed up the action. I’m never usually so impulsive but as his lips brushed mine I knew I’d made the right choice. Daniel’s warmth flowed from his body into mine.

To read more, pick up Smut by the Sea today!  If you’d like to hear this story and others read, then make plans to visit Scarborough on the 22nd June next year as there’s a huge Smut by the Sea Event!  with an erotic market, readings and more.  I hope I’ll see you there!

Corporate Spy Spotlight

Here's a snippet of Casey Sheridan's new Release!

Corporate Spy 
by Casey Sheridan

Sent to steal a secret file, Aimee breaks into the apartment of Bill James, the handsome employee of a rival company. But before she can get her hands on the file, Bill returns home unexpectedly.
 
Is Aimee caught in the act? Or is it mission accomplished?
 

*****

Excerpt:

When Aimee stepped inside the room, her foot kicked a stack of frames leaning against the wall. She closed the door behind her, and crouched down to get a better look; that’s when she noticed the large black digital camera on the floor next to the frames.

Each frame contained a black and white photograph: a Dodge Viper with a leggy brunette, a young man sitting on a Ducati motorcycle, a woman holding an umbrella and giving the photographer a coy look over her shoulder, and a tumble-down stone cottage standing in the middle of a desert.

Nice work, she thought. Too bad she didn’t have time to look through the rest of them. The time on the nightstand clock told her she’d better get straight to work.

Aimee quickly made her way over to the desk and shuffled through the papers scribbled with notes on photo shoots and web design. She sifted through folders with more notes and drawings of photography ideas that lay around the computers. Clearly, he got into photography when he wasn’t out riding his bike.

She then rifled through a box with numerous flash drives. Not one of them was the drive she needed. She had to find the right one.

She glanced at the clock. Only twenty minutes left. Twenty minutes before he would be back. Twenty minutes to look for a gold flash drive that could be hidden anywhere.

She rummaged through the desk drawers, moving pens, pencils, and markers. She checked inside the box of staples; opened envelopes and looked through their contents. She even dumped out a box of paperclips, hoping the drive would be hidden among them. Then she checked the underside and back of the drawers for any secret compartments.

Fifteen minutes left.

Her shoulders slumped as she slid the last drawer back into place, and then she turned to scan the room.

“Shit,” she cursed under her breath. Where could it be?

A faint noise caught her attention, and she tilted her head to one side, trying to catch every sound, but she heard nothing other than the ticking of the clock.

Aimee knelt on the floor and looked under the bed, hoping there would be a lockbox or something that held the drive inside, but there was nothing. That’s when she heard it–the unmistakable clatter of keys as they landed on a table. Her eyes went wide and her breath caught in her throat.

He’s back early!

As she knelt next to the bed, she could hear him whistling as he came closer to the bedroom. Her gaze darted frantically around the room. She had to find a place to hide. But where? She jumped up, rolled across the mattress, and scooted into the closet just moments before the bedroom door swung open.

*****

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Casey Sheridan wrote her first erotic story on a dare, and  she loved writing it so much she never stopped. Her erotica and erotic romance has been published by Breathless Press and Cobblestone Press, and has appeared on The Erotic Woman, Every Night Erotica and RSVP-Erotica.

She loves to read and write, could spend all day in a book story, art museum, or chocolate shop. She also enjoys music, watching movies, and spending time with those she loves.

You can find her on the Web at:

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I'm Free!

Well hello there - have I got a surprise for you-hooo!

My newest release is a short story called The Gentleman including in the Xcite anthology, Backstage Rider - and guess what? - The whole collection can be yours on Kindle - for FREE! For the next couple of days only - so hurry hurry - get yourself a saucy night in for nowt!

Amazon.co.uk
Amazon.com

Here's a little snippet from my story to get you in the mood for some saucy action with an older gentleman...

Deborah was used to getting what she wanted. So when one Bertram Tigworth Esq told her she was too young to hold his interest she made ready for war.

Too young? She was thirty-two! She’d had her eye on Bertram for quite a while now – he owned a terribly dull looking bookshop in a side street downtown. She knew he used to be a lawyer and his taste in books probably reflected his previous occupation. Not that she really knew for sure, since any tome she’d picked up in his shop was purely used to peer over and admire his immaculate presence.  Since he’d given her the brush off, Deborah was determined to have him. She’d never felt such attraction to a man before – he reminded her of her incredibly strict physics teacher at school, who she’d had a huge crush on. She would try her very best to get top marks by flashing him a dazzling smile as she turned in another half hearted essay – it didn’t work then either, he would sigh and pass her back a C- must try harder.  And now, fifteen years later, that’s exactly what she intended to do. She put on her most sophisticated pencil skirt and billowing blouse and sauntered past his shop daily, perfecting her Parisian gait. It made her wet just to walk by. Sometimes a trickle of moisture would make it down between her thighs and she’d snake her hips rubbing her juices over the flesh between the top of her legs. On more than one occasion a wolf whistle would come her way from the perpetual workmen and she’d haughtily snub it, glancing quickly to the open door of Tigworth Books behind her Jackie-O sunglasses.

This story is also included in the full collection called Cougars and Jackals where you'll find TWENTY hot stories of lust from all your faves..