Authors: Jax Baynard, Kristina Lloyd, Sommer Marsden, Alison Tyler, Sophia Valenti
Photo copyright © 2009 by Metal Taboo

About: Stand back! Or better yet, bend over. Here is the daring new anthology from Jax Baynard, Kristina Lloyd, Sommer Marsden, Alison Tyler, and Sophia Valenti on everyone's favorite theme: anal sex. With five brand-new stories (and one kinky bonus reprint), the 68 pp. book clocks in at nearly 15,000 words.

Our first reader's response: "Those are amazing. So. Good. In the hot way, and in the writery way. So obviously, in the best way."

Excerpt:

A sharp, efficient no-nonsense businesswoman. That's what my clients would say if asked to describe me. I'd worked hard and built an excellent reputation in the challenging and competitive world of finance. Yet there I was, in the middle of the workday, standing in a bathroom stall, with my skirt hiked up around my waist and my panties down around my ankles, drizzling lube on my fingertips.

I reached behind myself and ran one slick digit between my cheeks. My finger zeroed in on my back hole, and I massaged it gently, feeling my face flush as the snug opening gradually relaxed and beckoned me inside. My own slippery juices were already flowing, while inside me, the tight, aching coil of arousal seemed nearly overwhelming. I pressed inward, and I moaned as my finger popped inside. My free hand reached out and clawed at the tiled wall as I slid my digit in and out of my ass. My clit was swollen and throbbing with a pulse of its own, demanding attention that I couldn't give. Keith had expressly forbidden me to touch it while I was alone. And although he had no real way of knowing if I were disobedient, flouting his orders had never entered my mind.

Keith had, however, instructed me to fuck my own ass for ten minutes while I stood in the office bathroom. As turned on as I was at that moment, I was still keenly aware that I was in a semi-public place. And that point was driven home when I heard the snap of the outside door lock opening and the click-clack of a woman's high heels against the floor as she made her way to an unoccupied stall. I held my breath, adding a second lubed-up finger, as I continued to stretch and tease my back hole. Keith had said—in fact, he'd been rather emphatic—that I was not to stop, no matter how many of my coworkers entered the restroom. Heat rose in my cheeks, and I bit my lip to silence my moans—it was a struggle. The feelings coursing through my body were intense, as were my swirling emotions. And on top of all that, the copious amount of lube I'd used to prime myself threatened to betray my secret, but I worked with care to keep the noise of my moist, plunging fingers to a minimum.

Thankfully, my coworker was quick to finish her business and exit. My thoughts were spinning so violently, I couldn't determine who she was. It could have been the gum-snapping receptionist or a member of the executive board. But that didn't matter. I was just relieved that I hadn't been caught.

It was time to move on to Keith's second order. I slowly slipped out my fingers, and I was surprised by how much I missed having something filling me back there. That problem would soon be remedied; I reached into my open briefcase and fished out a purple silicone butt plug.

When I'd woken in the morning, Keith was already gone. I'd stumbled into the kitchen to the coffee maker and found that he'd thoughtfully brewed me a fresh pot before he left. But I did a double take when I saw that right next to my mug was a purple plug that rested on top of a note containing his dirty demands for the day—and letting me know what his plans were for that evening: He wanted my ass, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer.