Baby Got Back: Anal Erotica

Baby Got Back: Anal Erotica

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

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Overview

Baby Got Back: Anal Erotica by Rachel Kramer Bussel

Baby Got Back is a stimulating set of page-turning stories of anal fun. Rachel Kramer Bussel has edited some of the bestselling erotica books in the business and this is her first book devoted to all manner of backdoor pleasures. These daring and, dare we say, cheeky sex stories have a lot of variety. plenty of excitement and offer much erotic inspiration. Whether you love anal sex or have never tried it, Baby Got Back, edited by award-winning author and editor Rachel Kramer Bussel, offers a peek at what happens when men and women check their inhibitions at the door. You'll find bend over boyfriends, butt plugs, "A Taste of Jamaica" and "Body Heat." In "Rectified," when Lela gets bored with every sex position out there, Brad arrives to teach her about one she learns is everything she'd hoped for and more. In "Delivery," Lynn takes a break from a Vegas bachelorette party so Wesley can show her a very good time. Whether exploring a new side of backdoor pleasure or affirming their passion for this sometimes taboo activity, the characters in this book savor every moment.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781573449755
Publisher: Cleis Press
Publication date: 09/16/2013
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 232
Sales rank: 607,489
File size: 276 KB

About the Author

Rachel Kramer Bussel regularly contributes to Refinery 29, Glamour, and Cosmopolitan, and she hosts readings around the country. A prolific erotica editor, her titles include He’s on Top, She’s on Top, and Do Not Disturb. She lives in New York City Praise for Dirty Dates "This stimulating read is both for experienced players and those just discovering the joy of tying up your lover. Anything For You is a collection of sexy stories of uninhibited, adventurous sex by the county's best erotic writers. Each boldly-wrought tale shared with your lover is another door opened into the erotic mindscape." —YourTango "Rachel Kramer Bussel's is a guidebook to great sex, told story by delicious story of uninhibited, adventurous sex sure to keep the home fires burning Each boldly wrought tale shared with your lover is another door opened into the erotic mindscape." -- Fresh Fiction "A scintillatingly kinky combination of scenarios is offered for the reader's arousal, captivating with words anyone who has a bondage fetish." -- Night Owl Reviews "Each character in these stories shows a tremendous amount of strength and pride. It takes guts to let someone see your innermost desires, and allow them the freedom to grow. There is certainly something for everyone here." -- Coffee Time Romance

Read an Excerpt


Rectified
by Tiffany Reisz

The Butterfly.
Cowgirl.
Missionary.
Doggie.
Lela flipped page after page after page in the sex position manual and grew more and more depressed with every picture that greeted her. All of them. She’d done every single last position in the book.
Tears of frustration burned her eyes. She blinked rapidly to dispel them, but one escaped and landed in the center of a Lotus position sex diagram.
“Dammit.” She hastily wiped off the tear but it had already left a watermark. Now she had to buy the stupid thing.
“I’ve seen women crying into books before, but usually it’s over in the fiction section,” came a voice from behind her.
Turning around, Lela came face to chest with a man over six feet tall. Craning her neck, she found his face rather closer to the ceiling than her own and discovered that it was a handsome face and the man was smiling kindly at her.
“The non-fiction is depressing enough for me.”
The man cocked his head to the side and gave her a searching look. She should have been embarrassed getting caught by a man as she wept into a sex position manual. But after spending an hour in stirrups today as a parade of doctors prodded her vagina, cervix, and uterus, the tattered remains of her dignity had packed their bags and headed west.
He coughed softly and Lela noticed he’d extended his hand. Quickly pulling herself together, she tucked the book under her arm and shook his hand.
“Brad.” “Lela. I’m a mess.” She found his grip oddly comforting and didn’t pull her fingers back from him.
“Hi, Lela. Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or do I have to spend the rest of my life wondering why a beautiful woman was weeping over 101 Perfect Nights? I mean, it’s no Kama Sutra, but it has a happy ending. Lots of them.”
He meant the words as a joke but Lela couldn’t laugh.
“No happy ending for me.” She leaned tiredly against the bookcase.
Brad squeezed her hand a little tighter. She should have been scared of a man so big, built like a football player, dressed like a stock trader, and hanging out in the sex section of a bookstore. But something in his eyes made her trust him a little, and she needed to talk, had to talk. A stranger seemed better suited than a friend.
“No happy ending?” Brad crossed his arms over his broad chest. He had salt and pepper hair but looked no more than forty. “Every story should have a happy ending. Well, any story that has you in a bed in it.”
“You’re hitting on me.” Lela smiled for the first time today.
“I’m flirting with you. I have the floggers back home when you want me to hit on you.”
Lela raised an eyebrow at him. God, it would be nice to just spend a day in bed with a man like this—sexy, confident, and kinky, too. But she knew it would end the way it always ended.
Pain. Tears. Apologies.
“I appreciate it. My ego needs all the help it can get. But I promise, I would be a waste of effort.”
“I refuse to believe that, Lela. Tell me what’s wrong. If you’re not going to flirt back, the least you can do for my ego is to tell me why.”
She wrinkled up her face in embarrassment.
“It’s gross.”
“Time of the month? Not gross. Easy to work around.”
“If only. I...” she began and paused, deciding if she really wanted to be one of those people who told her life story to a stranger. Yes was the answer. Today. Yes. “I have severe endometriosis. I am twenty-seven years old and have been trying to have sex for ten years. Never had it without pain. And today the doctors—a whole team of them—stuck their fingers in me and said surgery was the only way to rectify things. Why have surgery to have good sex if I’ve never had good sex and don’t even know if it’s worth it?”
Brad brought his hand to his lips for a quick kiss.
“That is a sad story. So what’s the book for?”
“This? They said I should try some different positions. I don’t think they believed me when I told them I’ve tried them all.”
“Anal?”
She nodded. “A couple times in college. Didn’t go well.”
“Did it hurt?”
“He didn’t know what he was doing. Another fail.”
“I don’t know if this will convince you to stop crying into sex books and come back to my place with me but...”
“But what?” She let him pull her closer, close enough she could smell the cedar scent of his soap and see the smile that lurked at the corner of his lips.
“But...I know what I’m doing.” He said the words with confidence bordering on arrogance and with such an intimate gleam in his eyes that Lela couldn’t stem the tide of images his words conjured. The thought of a man inside her without her body seizing with pain?
“I’ve never gone to bed with a man I just met.”
“No wonder you’re crying in the bookstore.”
“You won’t think less of me?” She smiled at him.
“The only women I judge for their sexual choices are the women who turn me down. All none of them.”
“I’d hate to break your streak.”
“Then don’t.”
“It probably won’t work, you know? I’m warning you right now.”
“I’ll probably have you screaming from pleasure in under an hour. I’m warning you right now. Say ‘yes.’”
Lela laughed. Might as well. It was the least she could do for her poor vagina after all she’d put it through today.
“Yes.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
“I have to buy this first. I got it wet.”
“Trust me. Female tears are the least of the body fluids on this book.” He took it and shoved it onto the shelf while Lela made a mental note to wash her hands thoroughly at Brad’s place.
They grabbed a taxi and spent the twenty-minute ride whispering abbreviated life stories to each other. Lela Moore, well-paid actuary, single, no kids, no hope. Brad Wolfe—he swore it was his real name—ex-wife, no kids, just a club he treated like his baby.
“What kind of club?”
“The best kind,” he said and gave her a wolfish smile.

Table of Contents

Introduction: Prepared for Pleasure

Brenda’s Booty Tenille Brown
Rectified Tiffany Reisz
Delivery Emerald
My Turn Anya Levin
A Winter’s Tail Veronica Wilde
No Rest for the Sick Medea Mor
Vin Rouge Pour Trois Erobintica
The Support Group Fiona Curtis
Lights Out Angela R. Sargenti
Bar None Mina Murray
Seat Belts Kate Dominic
Better Than a Massage Annabeth Leong
Body Heat Shoshanna Evers
What You Feel Like Talon Rihai and Salome Wilde
Her Kingdom for Her Ass Maggie Morton
A Taste of Jamaica D. Fostalove
Hard Astern Thomas S. Roche
In Training D.L. King
Everybody Knows Giselle Renarde
With Lucy in the Middle Kathleen Tudor
Keeping the British End Up M. Howard
Two Timing Laura Antoniou
Plugged In Rachel Kramer Bussel

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