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."
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
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.