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dirtygirlsRachel Kramer Bussel (former Babeland.com guest blogger) is on a virtual book tour for her new collection of erotica: Dirty Girls. My favorite part about getting to be on the book tour? Free erotica. That's right.And, to top it off, it's really good erotica! I've been trying to read the book for the past couple of nights so that I could tell you all about it but I keep, well... I keep getting distracted. I guess that's a good sign. In fact, the first story 'had me at hello', as they say. It's hard to explain but it involves turning major American cities into lovers. It was one of the few erotica stories that makes me think, laugh and come, all at the same time. I really love those.The funniest part of this book is that it has little thumb and fingerprints all over the pages. Somehow, it reminded me that I was doing some "one handed reading" just having those prints there. And it made me think back to the accidentally discovered erotic scenes of my youth (Clan of the Cave Bear, anyone?) that became my first erotica which I read so much that now those specific pages are yellow at the bottom and the book flops open to the hottest scene.Basically what I'm saying is that Dirty Girls is filled with hot women and hot stories and I'd put my fingerprints on it any day. Here's a delicious excerpt from that first story I loved so much:Fucking Aroundby Marie Lyn BernardNew YorkMe: I told New York I loved her but she wouldn't say it back. We had just made love, and then I said it and she laughed. I felt like she was holding all my limbs together with her breath and so when she laughed it felt like she was dropping me and pretending it was an accident.New York: It takes me a long time, you know that, I told you that. But when I do say it, I?ll really mean it. When I feel it, you?ll know it all over. Me: New York fell asleep but I couldn't. I stood naked at the squashed rectangle of window in the corner of New York's bedroom and watched people spill out the glass doors of a hip restaurant. A man put his wife in a cab and then met a girl on the corner; she was pretty and looked happier than I'd felt in years.New York: Come back to bed, baby, what are you doing? If you aren't doing anything, you should be sleeping. Me: I told New York I was going to start seeing other places.New York: You'll come back. BostonMe: I meet Boston at a retirement party for a professor I worked with. He is wearing a corduroy blazer and a red rugby shirt and has blue, shiny eyes and wide benevolent shoulders.Boston: What's your drink? Lemme guess...vodka-cran? No?I take that back. Vodka tonic.Me: Does this work with other girls?Boston: Yeah, usually. Me: He talks about his family while I try to figure out how tall he is?I?m inspecting the heels of my shoe, the girth of his boots. I get drunk and give up; he sits on the couch, I lay my bare feet in his lap.Me: I have very long toes, you know.Boston: Oh yeah? What does that mean? I press my big toe up the crotch of his starchy pants, and then I rest so his limp dick nestles into the arch of my foot, and then I shift my toes around until he gets hard again. I do this over and over. We giggle a lot. It feels good but temporary, like a hot shower. I miss New York a little, but New York never made me giggle.Boston is enthusiastic. He takes me to his beautiful brownstone. He pushes me against the wall with comical force and begins to attack my mouth with his mouth.Boston wants to pick me up and toss me about like his arms are rackets and I?m a buoyant shuttlecock. Boston aspires for earth-shattering sex, the stuff of movies and wet dreams, but as soon as he gets my ankles on his shoulders and grabs a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he cums all over me.Boston: That was good, huh? Me: Huh? I look at his shrinking cock. What a waste of a beautiful eight-inch cock, I think, with veins like a roadmap of everywhere he should have been.h.Boston wants to pick me up and toss me about like his arms are rackets and I?m a buoyant shuttlecock. Boston aspires for earth-shattering sex, the stuff of movies and wet dreams, but as soon as he gets my ankles on his shoulders and grabs a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he cums all over me.Boston: That was good, huh? Me: Huh? I look at his shrinking cock. What a waste of a beautiful eight-inch cock, I think, with veins like a roadmap of everywhere he should have been.