Can you orgasm in public without being noticed? Siren Kay is about to find out.
Siren Kay is on a one woman quest to explore all that pain free, heterosexual kink has to offer. There’s a whole world of delicious fetish possibilities out there and she means to try them all. Aided by her pervy former school mate, she explores sex in public, with plenty of exhibitionism and voyeurism thrown in.
Series: Het Fet Diaries
lyd Category: Focus on Fetish
Length: 26 pdf Pages / 3130 words
Formats Available: pdf, prc, lit, zipped html,
lrf, epub, RB,
Ebook Cover Price: $1.99
I figured the best way to find out about fetish is to ask an expert. (I am not recruiting experts, please do not offer your services.) There’s a guy I knew all the way back at school. We coined a phrase for him – crust butterer. You know how buttering your bread on the other side is an old way of saying gay? So if you butter your bread on both sides, you’re bi. We figured Josh would also butter the crusts. He and my friend Minky are probably soul mates, but I’ve never introduced them. Not least because I haven’t seen Josh in a lot of years, but like most of the rest of the world, he’s got a Facebook account.
Got his phone number, called him up. “Remember me?”
“Five foot eight with blue eyes and C cup breasts,” he intoned. “Course I remember you.”
“How the hell do you know my cup size, Josh?”
I heard wicked laughter. “Because you wore a sports bra for P.E.”
I let this sink in a moment. “So?”
“Your regular bra used to get left in the changing rooms.”
I could picture him sneaking in. He was always bunking off sports, but I had no idea why. Until now. In the locker room sniffing discarded underwear, no doubt, and probably keeping a notebook full of details like our cup sizes. I guessed I’d found the right guy for the job.
“So, is this just a social call, or did you want me for something more personal?” Josh is such a sleazebag. No one ever admitted to having slept with him. He was always discrete about names, but gave the impression he’d shagged his way through the entire school, including some of the staff. And definitely two of the cleaners. I know about them, because they were sacked.
“I want a favour,” I began.
“Yes, but not in the way you mean. I want you to tell me stuff about your deviant lifestyle.”
“No problem. Why?”
I’d considered lying to him, but that seemed like too much hassle and I didn’t want him to think I wanted to bed him. So I confessed the whole thing about writing the blog column on straight, pain free fetish, and needing some content.
“Sounds like I ought to meet these college friends of yours,” he said. No surprises there. “So basically I write your column and you get paid for it?”
“No, you give me ideas, I write my column, I get paid for it… it’s not vast sums anyway. I buy you a pint now and then, plus you get an interested audience for your tales of debauchery.”
“You buy me a pint now and then, and you wear fishnets while you’re doing it.”
“Not just fishnets,” I said, not wanting to be stung by any conceptual small print.
“Deal. So, what do you want to know?”
“Everything I don’t know.”
There was a pause, in which I could almost hear the gears turning inside his brain. “We should do this in person, it’ll be more fun.”
“This is not an invitation to fuck me.”
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you, but there’s a lot of things work better in person. Unless phone sex does it for you?”
“Maybe, sometime.” So I agreed to meet up. And to wear fishnets. I put them under a long skirt, so it wasn’t quite what he had in mind, but I’m not into being told what to do.
English author Bryn Colvin has dabbled in pretty much everything. At least on paper. In real life she takes her research seriously. When she isn’t trying to find material for outrageous stories, she’s either outdoors and muddy around the edges, curled up with a book, or making something. She hates being bored.
A lot of years ago, Bryn spent a while writing custom fiction professionally, which resulted in a stint on a site like Siren Kay’s. Otherwise, all resemblance to her real life is entirely open to speculation!