The Bedside Voyeur

By Ellay Branton

Everyone likes a good quickie.

The Bedside Voyeur has eight scorching short stories with an intriguing variety of moods.
From first time to last time, stranger to lover, fun to obsession... these stories explore it all.

The battle lines are drawn – without a word, in Silent Rivals.
The Couch Affaire proves that interior decorating is more than just an aesthetic pleasure.
Who says Dinner Conversation has to be boring? Not this couple!

Enjoy these and five more sexy stories. There’s something for just about everyone.
Go on...take a peek. You know you want to.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ellay Branton
• Release date: Jan 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310964442

Ellay Branton

Ellay Branton is a tiny little useful human who bears a slight resemblance to a shaved hobbit - except her feet and ankles are dainty. She has an inappropriate sense of humor that has often landed her in trouble. She believes that life is meant to be fun and isn't afraid to be silly - no matter who is watching. Bonus points if you join in! Ellay lives in Northern California with her husband, her children and more animals than humans. She can often be found on Facebook fangirling over her favorite authors, artists, and of course, Star Wars. She loves to hear from readers! Email: [e-mail] Friend me: https://www.facebook.com/ellaybranton Like me: https://www.facebook.com/ellaybrantonauthor Follow me: https://twitter.com/ellaybranton

Book preview

The Bedside Voyeur

by

Ellay Branton

The Bedside Voyeur Copyright © 2014 by Ellay Branton

All rights reserved

Smashwords Edition

No part of the work herein may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without express written consent by the author.

These stories are works of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental

Adult themes, strong language and sexual situations are a primary part of these works. Reader discretion is advised.

Formatting by Bob Houston eBook Formatting

Table of Contents

Thanks and Dedication

Author’s Note

Aural Sex

Temping Tresses

Silent Rivals

Gettin' Lucky by Mistake

The Couch Affaire

Once More . . . With Feeling

Falling into the Dark Places

Dinner Conversation

About the Author

Thanks and Dedication

I'd like to thank all of the secret beta readers that encouraged me in this endeavor. It's taken years for me to get up the gonads to put out my work, and if not for you, it would still be hiding in a deep, dark file on my laptop labeled Liver Recipes.

A very special thank you to the online writing community that thrives on Facebook. Reading each others' stories, helping each other through plot problems, and lamenting over edits has been the most fun I've ever had. The constant encouragement and honest joy for each others' work and successes completely negated all the notions I had. Brandi, Smashley, Kerrigan, Rochelle, Denise, Stephanie, Silence, Kimberlie, Kelly, Wallis, and all of the members of Team Tiara and Cyn's Minions – I'm humbled by your kind words and support. You are all wonderful people that have proven my belief that there is still humanity (and literacy!) in social media.

Dakota – your honesty, gentle criticism, advice, and patient responses to a squealing fangirl really lit the fire under the ass of the author in me. I can never thank you enough.

Cynthia – Our mutual admiration society has taught me: there is such a thing as an instant best friend, to hang my dork flag proudly, and that even beautiful self-published authors with huge talent still panic about their work. Thank you for your bottomless well of encouragement, wisdom, and advice. Two words, gorgeous: Intrinsic. Truth.

While some of the individual stories may have their dedications, this entire work is for Richard; my beloved muse, and the best research partner an author could have…I love you S.B.

Author’s Note

I once read something by Susie Bright that mentioned women’s erotica collections. She said that many of us had books with pages dog-eared or book marked, and various articles or stories from a men’s magazine photocopied or torn out. These collections would be kept under the bed or hidden in the back of a nightstand. I am one of those women, but I proudly display my collection.

Men I know scoff, referring to it as girl porn. When they read it aloud, it is with a lisping falsetto and swooning sighs. Many men maintain that if it is not explicit, it wouldn’t appeal to anyone but your average heterosexual woman. While that may be true of some of the more traditional romances, it is definitely not true of all erotic writing. Much of the more recent, and even some of the Victorian and older writings, are as graphic with words as the adult film Assgasms is with video.

It’s true that, like many women, I did learn about erotica through those romantic stories. I first discovered sex in women’s writing at the tender age of thirteen. Always an avid reader, I had outgrown Judy Blume and Laura Ingalls Wilder. I bought several Harlequin Romances at the local thrift store in hopes of finding something new. There was a decade-old book in my stack. It sounded fascinating to me because of where the characters lived. The story was written by Penny Jordan, and was about a young authoress in the wilds of the Australian Outback. She was to ghostwrite a book for a woman rancher. Of course, the rancher had a darkly handsome and brooding son with a wounded heart. For added conflict, there was another woman, a blatantly sexy neighbor that had designs on the son. In true romance-novel style, the authoress won his heart, and their love was consummated with flowery and vague descriptions. But it was just clear enough to intrigue a thirteen-year-old.

I read that type of romance for years, seeking out the ones with the most intimate scenes, and I’d trade the boring ones for those with the most explicit sex. I did this until I found Jean M. Auel’s The Valley of Horses. It was her sequel to The Clan of the Cave Bear and, at the time, it had the most graphic sex I'd ever read. The author still used euphemisms for sexual organs, but she was very much clearer on the act taking place. I suddenly realized there might be other such stories with more graphic love scenes.

As young idealists often do, I still gravitated toward the stories that based the sex act on the premise that the characters were deeply in love, or would eventually fall in love. But a part of me was never satisfied by the trite and predictable stories. I always wondered if I could come up with something better. I tried on several occasions to write a full-length story to submit to the big romance publishers. However, I was greatly restricted by their rules. They didn’t yet have the Blaze or Temptation series that are now so easily identifiable by their bright red covers and suggestive titles. These publishers wanted a book of a specific length, and without certain words, e.g. cock, pussy, fuck, and blowjob. Those terms must be carefully avoided. The heroine must be virtuous, pretty, and in love with the man who beds her, even if she is not aware of or denies her feelings for the hero at the time of the act.

I found myself rebelling against the formula. It’s not that I didn’t want to write about a virtuous heroine or two, but why did they all have to be that way? Why did the stories have to be about women? What about the men? And why couldn’t I use words like fuck or blowjob if the story merited them? These restrictions caused writer’s block and frustration, especially after I realized that, due to the formula, my stories became trite and predictable. So, I gave up trying to write what they wanted, and instead began writing short stories that pleased me.

These were my internal voyeurism. I could watch people get it on and they would do what I thought was hot. Vignettes of characters’ sex began to pour out, pages at a time. Some were about love, some were about curiosity, but all of them reflected things I dreamed up or fantasized about. I had no restrictions and no boundaries to adhere to, save my own. While researching for the stories, I’d come across a new fetish or idea for a story before I finished the previous two or three. The writing process suddenly became self-sustaining. But more than that, they helped me find other authors that wrote about sex, as well as acts of erotica other than intercourse, something I had not considered. Suddenly, there were boundless new subjects, and moods, and characters to be discovered.

I occasionally return to my compilation of dog-eared books and magazines to rediscover those old tingles. Sometimes I see them in a whole new light, the shadows of a character hidden behind euphemism and suggestion. Now these books are displayed proudly, and sit almost demurely alongside my later acquisitions.

Over the years I’ve added Anais Nin’s Delta of Venus and The Mammoth Book of Erotic Short Stories volumes, edited by