Sex in London

Genre

City-Themed Erotica

Blurb

Contains my story, In Her Majesty’s Back Garden.

Long before the oh-so-kinky Victorian era, London was famed for sex and sensuality. From Kings to harlots, everyone was doing it – and often Kings were doing it with harlots.

Beneath its stiff upper lip, passion sizzles: everyone who lives, works and plays in London has a bedtime story to tell, and this collection brings together stories that explore the sex life of this amazing city. The stories here feature everyone from city boys on a bender in a lapdancing club to a light-fingered shoplifter who meets her match in a dominant Oxford Street security guard to a transgender lesbian out to hustle a lecherous aristocrat for a fortune. In Lucy Felthouse’s “Her Majesty’s Back Garden” a couple are overcome with the urge to have sex in the grounds of Buckingham Palace, while Jay Lawrence’s “Double Exposure” features a female flasher displaying her charms in front of the London Eye, among other places. A pair of very naughty soldiers have each other standing at attention on Royal Wedding day in Lukas Scott’s “A Happy Finish,” and James “Grim” Desborough’s “Falling Down” uses the mundane setting of a Tube journey as the starting point for an erotic game of chase. Victoria Pond’s “Day Trip” looks at London from the point of view of a student visitor to the city, while Neil James Hudson’s “The Woman From Aldgate West” imagines a London lurking beneath the surface of the one we know, where sex takes place in public beneath the noses of unsuspecting passers-by.

So join these and other authors on a trip into the quirky, kinky heart of London … enjoy!

Excerpt

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From the moment Gavin whispered the saucy suggestion into my ear, I couldn’t get it out of my mind. It was both highly inappropriate and incredibly risky, but that’s what made it so deliciously appealing.

I tried not to let my excitement show – the last thing I needed was for my body language to appear skittish or suspicious. The number of CCTV cameras and security guards around the palace meant I’d be thrown into the Tower of London in the blink of an eye if they thought I was dodgy. Okay, well maybe not the Tower, but whatever it was that HRH Queen Elizabeth II’s highly trained security personnel did to people they believed to be a threat to the monarch’s safety, and that of her property.

I was no threat to anyone, never mind the Queen. I happen to really like the Royal Family – I wouldn’t have paid to come on a visit to Her Majesty’s official residence otherwise, would I?

Based on Gavin’s devious plan, the worst I might do is tread on a couple of plants, or break a twig, or something.

For the remainder of our visit around Buckingham Palace, Gavin and I acted normally, albeit with the occasional grope and salacious wink when no one was looking.

By the time we arrived at the exit of the grand house, I was seriously horny. I took Gavin’s hand, dragged him past the tearoom and out into the gardens. We had to find somewhere private—well, as private as you could get with thousands of visitors a day passing through—and quick.

It had been Gavin’s idea, so naturally he was as enthusiastic as me, but I don’t think he’d expected me to go for it in the first place. I slowed down after a couple of funny looks from people alerted me to the fact that we were drawing attention to ourselves. They probably thought we’d nicked a vase, or a painting. I had a vision of Her Maj shouting “Ooorrrf with their heads!” and giggled.

“What?” Gavin said, taking control and pulling me towards a bench – one of the many lining the path through the grounds. We sat down.

I told him what I’d been laughing at, and he laughed too, before cutting off my mirth by leaning in for a long, sensual kiss. It was deep, and delicious, and it sent tingles through my body from head to toe. We broke apart only when we heard someone coming towards us, and I gasped for breath as my heart raced. My imagination and the anticipation had ensured that my pussy was damp, but the kiss, and then the positively predatory look on Gavin’s face meant I was seriously slick. I suspected that before long my juices would soak right through my underwear and I’d end up with a wet patch on the crotch of my jeans.

“Come on,” Gavin said, looking around, “everyone’s gone.” He stood, then reached down and tugged me up by my elbow.

“W-where are we going?” I asked, my nerves threatening to show as he moved quickly behind the bench we’d been sitting on and into the trees and bushes, pulling me along with him.

“Somewhere nobody can see us, of course,” he replied, releasing my arm and leading us deeper into the gloom cast by the trees, “but remember, if anyone walks past, they’ll still be able to hear us, so you’ll have to be quiet.”

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