The Very Best of Bare Back Magazine

By Natasha Brooks

With lots of love and dedication, Bare Back Magazine delivers to you the very best erotic fiction and poetry for your sensual pleasure and erotic reading delight. These stories and poems explore it all, taking you to exotic places from the southern comforts of New Orleans to the bright lights and high towers of New York City and all places in between. You’ll meet some very naughty housewives, experience deliciously intense group encounters and explore love on the internet. Among the stories in this collection, there will also be an unforgettable masquerade for your reading pleasure. We’ll add a dabble of flavor, as we tempt your taste buds in very steamy erotic encounters. These scorching hot short stories will stimulate a variety of intense moods for you, the reader.

The Very Best of Bare Back Magazine features new stories and poems from both up-and-coming and popular writers like Peter Baltensperger, David Hornbuckle, Gianni Shamari, M. Earl Smith, Lane Pierce, Tonia Mansfield, Natasha Brooks, Jerrell Khalil Smith, Jillian Kander, Javier Rokusaburo, Jake Kaida, Bob McNeil, Robyn Alezanders and many more; this joyful celebration of erotic stories and poetry is deliciously sexy, sophisticated, and insanely addicting.

Bare Back Magazine was founded by Editor-in-Chief, Natasha Brooks in September 2005; the first issue was published online in November of the same year. With the help of many talented writers, editors and contributors, Bare Back Magazine has become one of the premier ezines on the web, featuring erotic fiction, poetry, articles and art that explore the diverse spectrum of erotica. Over the years, we have published the works of writers and artists from all over the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emerging Edge
• Release date: Jan 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310718298

Natasha Brooks

Natasha is the founder/Editor-in-Chief of Bare Back Magazine. She is a blogger, content writer, ghost writer, editor and owner/publisher at Emerging Edge Publishing. Natasha is the editor of the popular erotic fairy tales anthology Fair Tales Can Come True and the creator of the relationships series: Relationships And Other Stuff.

Book preview

The Very Best of Bare Back Magazine

Edited by

Natasha Brooks

Published by

Emerging Edge Publishing

2016

Copyright @ 2016 by Emerging Edge Publishing

www.emergingedgepublishing.com

Individual authors retain copyright to their work. All rights reserved except for brief passages quoted in newspaper, magazine, radio, television or online reviews. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or information or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher.

FIRST EDITION: JANUARY 2016

Printed in the United States of America

Introduction

Bare Back Magazine was founded in September 2005 by Editor-in-Chief, Natasha Brooks. On November 1, 2005, the first issue was published online. In the beginning, Natasha along with a group of very talented writers and editors such as Tonia Mansfield and Oxyn Gemstones worked diligently to ensure that the magazine was successful. They worked long nights, staying up online to share innovative and creative ideas for the ezine. In its infancy, the publication grew to become a well-respected erotic ezine and has attracted various levels of erotic talent. Over the years, we have published the works of writers and artists from all over the world.

Among its many awards, Bare Back Magazine has been listed for two consecutive years in the Editors and Pre-editors Poll Awards and also listed on Jane's Reviews as a quality and original website. Bare Back Magazine is listed in both Duotrope's Digest and The Best of The Web Anthology (2010)

In 2008, Natasha Brooks published Bare Back Magazine's first erotic anthology entitled Fairy Tales Can Come True, a collection of the very best erotic fairy tales. The anthology was inspired by an erotic fairy tales contest that was featured in a 2007 issue of the ezine. The original erotic fairy tales that inspired the anthology are still online and available to readers. The anthology received positive reviews and continues to sell on Amazon and various other retailers, including Barnes and Noble. It is also available in eBook format for various electronic devices.

Bare Back Magazine prides itself in publishing tasteful erotica that is not only intelligent, but sophisticated and sexy. Initially, the theme of the magazine was based on the beauty of the human back, exploring the various ways that erotica depicts sexuality through fiction, poetry and art. It is our belief that the human back is strong, sexy and tells a story; it is our wish to publish stories that have these three elements.

We support and celebrate all of our writers and artists, who represent all experience levels and genres in erotica. Bare Back Magazine has become a well-respected online home to many talented and unique writers who are looking for an outlet and a place to connect with an audience that is interested in their work. We will continue to celebrate erotica and the talents of all erotic writers and artists by publishing erotica of all genres, celebrating erotic diversity and all of the reflections of erotica.

We thank all of our readers who have supported us over the past ten years, and a special thank you to the many writers, editors, artists and contributors who have contributed to the ezine and its success. We would not have achieved success without the dedication of the individuals who have shown us so much love. Thank you; we love you all.

Table of Contents

Fiction:

Ephemeral Vibrations for a Hot Afternoon

Overqualified

Another Best Erotic Night Of My Life

Internet Love Sonnet

Southern Comfort

Masquerade

An Unforgettable Encounter

Marcus and the Preacher's Wife

Baker’s Dozen

Flirting With Trouble

Poetry

Catechesis

Portrait of Incarnation

Traveling the Range of a Male Thought

Undone

Naked Thoughts

Love Me

Wet

Fantasy

Sweet Surrender

Until You Release

Erotic Fiction...

Ephemeral Vibrations for a Hot Afternoon

By Peter Baltensperger

In a secluded area of a secluded valley, dozens of naked men and women were milling about in a spacious meadow dotted by big old trees. They were there for one of the al fresco orgies the social committee of their Sex Club regularly organized for them. It was a beautiful sunny day in late summer, pleasantly warm to be outside, not too hot to be uncomfortable. A light breeze was wafting through the trees, rustling the leaves, brushing against the naked skin distributed all over the area.

The meadow, one of several private properties the Club owned, was freshly mowed and raked for their afternoon of pleasure and explorations. The property was flanked by a narrow, elongated lake on one side and a chain of mountains on the other. An ancient forest was growing halfway up the flanks of the mountains. Above the forest line, the mountains were mostly rock and grass with some sparse bushes growing here and there, above that, just rock. The mountain protected the meadow securely from view while the sun still flooded the meadow and the pure blue lake with its warmth for most of the day.

If any curious voyeurs had been observing the orgy from one of the mountain tops, perhaps with strong binoculars or a telescope, they would have been able to watch an interesting pantomime unfolding for them, while the forest swallowed up all the sounds from the meadow below.

One part of the pantomime would have been a woman lying on her side in the grass, sandwiched between two men. The man facing her had his hands on her breasts and his penis in her receptacle. The woman had her arms wrapped tightly around him. The man behind her had his arms around her waist, cupping her breasts with his hands from below, his penis in her hole. The men were pumping her in unison, banging against her body from both sides. Had the observer been closer by, among the trees at the bottom of the forest, perhaps, he would have heard the woman scream ecstatically. Her body was trembling and shaking with delight.

Harder, harder, she pleaded between screams.

The men willingly obliged, until all three came to their orgasms amid a cacophony of moans and groans and cries. The mountain was echoing their passion from its rocks, filling the valley with its reverberations. After a few moments, the three rolled over into the warm grass, exposing their beautiful bodies to the sun.

Donald Deserati heard the woman scream and cry out, heard the men grunt and pant, but he didn’t pay any attention to them. He was busy mounting a gorgeous, large-breasted woman on her hands and knees from behind not too far away. He was holding on to her firm hips to steady himself and was slapping his groins against her buttocks as rapidly as he could. Now and then, he slapped her buttocks with his hands to intensify the stimulation. The woman was moaning with delight, her pendulous breasts swinging freely beneath her. Sometimes he reached under her and took her succulent globes into his hands to rub them and knead them and fondle them until the woman reached a new plateau of exhilaration and pure excitement.

Harder, harder, she groaned between moans, her luscious body shuddering under him to its very core. He could feel the ecstatic vibrations way down in his own core, as if he were echoing hers.

Donald penetrated her even harder than before and slapped her more often, until he felt her quiver and squirm as her orgasm took hold of her and she whimpered quietly to herself. Donald arched his back and squirted his load into her, much to her delight, for she pressed her buttocks lustfully against him and resumed her groaning for the whole duration of his ejaculation. They stayed fused to each other for a few moments, gasping for air, letting their bodies vibrate through the aftershocks of their fulfillment.

After a while, he dismounted and let himself fall into the grass beside her. The woman dropped face first into the grass, her arms and legs spread wide. They closed their eyes in unison and quickly dozed off in the warm sun. When he opened his eyes again, the woman was already lying on her side, propped up on one elbow, her other hand playing leisurely with the hair of her dark bush.

She was a sultry, mysteriously dark woman with thick black hair cascading down over her shoulders and her breasts, probing dark eyes. Donald extended his arm to reach her tantalizing bush himself, and she quickly removed her hand to make room for his. He twirled her hair with his fingers, then reached between her thighs. Accommodating as she always was, she spread her legs without changing her reclining position. He sated his eyes at the beautiful pink swelling among the dark skin, probed the space between her wet labia with a finger until he could feel a slight tremor ripple through her body.

Encouraged by her reaction, he pushed his finger deep into the rich well of her vagina and brought it back out wet with her juices. He licked his finger of the fragrant emanations like a precious lollipop tasting of dark skin and distant lands. After he finished his feast, he returned his finger to her vagina, brought it back out, and held it up to her. She quickly took his hand into hers and licked her own juices from his proffered finger, her eyes wide with excitement and passion.

She turned on her back and opened her thighs completely for him to mount her under the dominating sun. He played with her delicious labia for a while longer, then climbed on top of her and stretched out along the length of her body. When he let himself down on her, she took her bounteous breasts into her hands and squeezed them together for him. He put his own hands on top of the glistening mounds to satiate his mind with their gorgeous fullness, then brought the tip of his penis to her opening. She gasped when she felt him probe her entrance, groaned when he penetrated her slowly and with barely concealed passion, started to gyrate her luscious body under him when he thrust into her, faster and faster until they reached a passionate tempo of thrusts against thrusts.

She soon began to moan with the pleasure of their union, and the more she moaned, the harder he thrust into her, the more excitedly she gyrated her hips and thrust them against his. They tried to prolong their coupling, but the heat of the sun urged them on until they couldn’t contain themselves any longer. Donald pressed down on the pliable breasts, pressed down on her hips with his, penetrating her more and more deeply until he felt her tremble with the onset of her orgasm. After that, it took only a few more thrusts, a few more gyrations, until they reached the apex of their passion at the same time, as if some invisible alarm clock had gone off.

Together, they rocked through the glorious breakers of their mutual satisfaction, groaned their delirious fulfillment into the late summer air, let their bodies rock through the aftershocks of their explosions. Eventually, Donald let go of the breasts, satiated as he was, rolled over on his back, and looked up at the mountains. Mountains belonged to the sky. Their silence was a constant warning for the traveler on the flat road. He rolled over on his belly, reached for his notebook and his pen that he carried with him everywhere, even to a nude outing, and scribbled the thought on the next empty page. He might use it for a poem later on. He closed his notebook, rolled over on his back again, and looked up at the mountains some more. He loved mountains. They reflected the essence of what one wanted to be. And stones. He loved stones as much as he loved mountains. Stones harbored secret voices in the molecules vibrating quietly among themselves.

He found sex very inspiring. He found naked women very inspiring, especially their breasts. Many of his poems originated during or shortly after sexual encounters, although not all of them were about sex. It just happened to be one of the favorite subjects of his poetic imagination and he considered himself pretty good at it. Yet he never felt the urge or the need to be in any kind of permanent relationship. As the 35-year-old head of the planning department in a large architectural firm, he never found it difficult to find a woman when he desired one, and they seemed to be equally content with his one-night stands as he was himself.

But his age did make itself felt, and he was getting rather tired of pursuing and inviting and wining and dining a new woman every time he wanted to go out. When he began looking for some open-minded social group he could join for his sexual pursuits, an acquaintance referred him to the local Sex Club. He felt at home right away and made himself comfortable in his new surroundings. Their get-togethers were always a pleasure, whether they were held outdoors on one of the private properties, or in someone’s spacious house. The women were always accommodating and willing to follow his lead, and the gatherings always ended on a very positive and satisfactory note.

He was beginning to get hungry. The woman was still stretched out in the grass, buzzing in the afterglow of her orgasm, her face turned towards him, her eyes blissfully closed.

Hungry? he asked.

The woman shook her head.

He pushed himself up out of the grass and headed towards the picnic tables lined up along the edge of the forest.

The social committee had arranged the picnic tables close to the forest so that they were in the shade rather than out in the open sun. The tables were full of plates and bowls and containers of all manner of food the participants had brought with them. Cans of soft drinks and bottles of beer and wine were stashed into coolers and buckets of ice.

A woman sat at the end of the long row of tables, facing the meadow, a plate of food and a glass of wine in front of her. He had never