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0026: Five Lessons— Part 6
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2026-01-05 23:22:56
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Dirty Affairs: An Erotic Compilation 0037: Breach Of Duty — Part 2
DEREKI looked at the heavy door, then back at Leila. A voice in my head tried to dissuade me. The badge on my belt felt like a branding iron, hot and heavy, trying to snap me back to be the rational man I was. But the fire in my veins was hotter. I knew the protocol. I knew the oaths I’d sworn. But I also knew the way Leila tasted when she was desperate, and right now, the air between us was thick with a chemical longing that made the law feel like a distant, polite suggestion.I drew in a long breath and made my decision."I need to move the suspect," I barked into the intercom, my voice formal and steady despite the roar in my ears. "Room 4 has a faulty light. I’m taking her to the secondary holding area in the basement for a more secure debrief."I didn't wait for a response. I grabbed Leila by the arm—not roughly, but with a possessive grip that said a thousand words. She didn't struggle or resist. She followed me out into the hallway. The rattling of her cuffs was a heavy remin
Dirty Affairs: An Erotic Compilation 0036: Breach Of Duty— Part 1
DEREKThe sharp lights of the precinct always had a way of buzzing right at the frequency of a migraine. But still, this was my job. This was the way I gave back to the society— keeping law and order. It was a Tuesday, the air thick with the smell of coffee, disinfectant and printer ink. I was sitting at my desk, staring at a stack of reports that felt like they were written in hieroglyphics rather than a language I understood. At thirty-two, I had the kind of life people likely called stable. I was a lead detective in the NYPD, had a comfortable apartment downtown, a very loyal Labrador Retriever, and a gym membership I actually used. There'd been an impressive reduction in the crime rate, and that was something gratifying.According to the guys in the locker room, I was the most eligible bachelor in the 17th Precinct. Firstly, I had the build—six-foot-two, shoulders that stretched the seams of my dress shirts, and a jawline that my partner, Miller, joked could cut glass. But ins
Dirty Affairs: An Erotic Compilation 0035: Craving My Stepson— Part 2
SLOANEThe cold marble of the kitchen counter bit into the back of my thighs as my breathing camw out in short gasps that rattled in my chest. I looked at the kitchen window, somehow terrified that a neighbor might see through the glass, but Jace didn’t give me time to dwell on the what-ifs."Relax, Sloane," he whispered, his voice dark and convincing. "You’ve spent enough time being the perfect Captain's wife. For the next hour, you’re just mine."His hands were large and calloused from years of manual labor, but as he slid them up my legs, his touch was surprisingly light. He didn’t rush. He moved with the practiced ease of a man who knew exactly how a woman was built. When he reached the throbbing part in-between my legs, his fingers didn't just thrust, they searched. He began to rub my folds with a slow, professional precision that made my head fall back against the mahogany cabinets."You’re so sensitive," he murmured, his thumb circling the lips of my pussy. "Do you know how lo
Dirty Affairs: An Erotic Compilation 0034: Craving my Stepson— Part 1
SLOANE The Florida sun was a relentless, oppressive weight against the back of my neck as I hauled the heavy canvas bags from the trunk of my Audi A3 Sedan. Forty-two years old, and I still insisted on carrying all the groceries in one trip—a stubborn streak that my husband, Jordan, always found endearing. Or at least, he did when he was actually home to see it.Jordan was a Captain in the Navy, a man of iron discipline and even more right and rigid schedules. He had been stationed in the Pacific for the last four months, leaving me in our sprawling, quiet estate on the outskirts of Pensacola. The silence of the house was usually filled by Jace, my stepson. So, maybe it wasn't exactly lonely. As I rounded the corner of the driveway, the hands of the shopping bags cutting deep into my palms, I stopped short. There, parked crookedly near the side entrance, was Jace’s vintage Triumph motorcycle. "That’s strange," I muttered under my breath as I struggled with the weight of the shoppi
Dirty Affairs: An Erotic Compilation 0033: The Midnight Auction — Part 2
ELARAThe heavy iron door clicked shut behind me, sealing out the damp, gasoline-scented air of the Bronx and locking me into a world where the rules of the Vance empire no longer applied. I followed a silent, masked attendant down a narrow corridor lined with peeling wallpaper and the faint, metallic scent of industrial cleaner. My heels clicked rhythmically against the concrete, a sharp sound that still couldn't drown out the pounding of my heart.The processing room was small, lit by a single, buzzing fluorescent bulb. And of course, he was right there— my prized possession, seated on a steel bench, his hands cuffed loosely in front of him. At that point I wasn't sure if it was because he was a threat. Or maybe it was just a symbolic reminder of what his identity was now—a sex slave. The stout announcer, a heavy potbellied man stood by, holding a digital tablet and a set of keys. "He’s been briefed, Mrs.—" the man started. "Don't use my name," I snapped on instinct, my voice cu
Dirty Affairs: An Erotic Compilation 0032: The Midnight Auction — Part 1
ELARAI sat in the solitude of my Upper East Side penthouse, staring out at the rough skyline of Manhattan. At thirty, I was supposed to be in my prime, a woman whose beauty was weaponized and celebrated. Instead, I felt like a delicate museum piece behind glass.My husband, Lorenzo Vance, was the reason for the glass. At seventy-five, he was the undisputed king of the New York underworld, a man whose name caused hushed silences in the underworld and desperate prayers in the backrooms of night clubs. He was a titan, a ghost, and a legend. But to me, he was becoming a stranger who shared my bed more like a brother.As I sat there, drowning in the silence of the room, all I could think about was what Lorenzo was up to. He'd probably be up and about the docks again. Or the union strike in Jersey. But never about me. The door chimes signaled a visitor, and I didn't need the security monitor to know it was Suzie. She was the only person brave enough to bypass the stern-faced men in blac
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