LOGINSome desires should be resisted. Others make resisting feel like the biggest mistake of your life. Welcome to a world of stolen glances, tempting strangers, dangerous chemistry, and pleasures that come with consequences. From forbidden attractions and complicated affairs to unexpected encounters that spiral out of control, these stories explore what happens when curiosity turns into temptation and temptation becomes impossible to ignore. A woman risking her marriage for one irresistible stranger. A police officer caught between her duty and the criminal who gets under her skin. Familiar faces, unexpected lovers, and secrets that refuse to stay behind closed doors. Every confession hides a new fantasy. Every encounter pushes another boundary. And every story dares you to discover what happens next. So, go ahead. Turn the page. Lose yourself in the temptation. But be warned: you might come for the stories, but will you be able to keep your hands to yourself until the very last chapter?
View MoreMandy's POV.
“Ah…yes, right there.” The words left my lips in a breathy whisper as Derek–my husband rammed himself into me. His grip on my waist tightened as he breathed heavily, “you like that huh?” He asked, moving at a pace that I considered a little too slow. “Aww, yes baby,” I moaned, even though I felt nothing. This was how it had always been–fake moans, fake orgasms, fake everything. The only thing that was real between us was the love we shared, and painfully so, it was not enough. I dug my nails deeper into his shoulders, letting out fake breathy moans as he groaned on top of me. I closed my eyes so he wouldn't notice that I was feeling anything but pleasure. “Fuckkk, I'm–I’m close baby,” he grunted, tilting his head back as he thrust at a faster pace. “I know. Let it all out,” I edged him, making my voice sound strained, as if I was close too. “Ahh, that–that–” he mumbled incoherent words as he gave his best three strokes that made my core clench around him. Within the next second, he collapsed onto my body, pouring hot cum into me. His breath was hot against my collarbone, while he moved a hand up to squeeze one of my breasts. “God, Mandy,” he murmured, his cock now growing flaccid inside me, “you feel so good. You have no idea how much I love being inside you. You're so tight, and perfect,” he showered me with compliments that barely made my cheeks tingle. He'd always done this after every session, and it often made me feel valued. Except this time, my Derek wasn't as strong as he was in his youth. Lately, he'd grown out of shape and was barely even around. I on the other hand was a woman in her forties with a cunt on fire. I needed Derek six out of seven times in a week and Derek could only afford once a week, because work was more important. “Did you finish?” Derek's voice cut through my thoughts, bringing me back to reality. I ran my fingers lazily through his hair, “of course. You fuck me so well,” I told the lie easily. He lifted his head, his brown eyes meeting mine with so much softness, “you know, if you keep saying stuff like that, I may not be able to help fucking you all over again.” No. Not another session of this torture. I forced a smile, cupping a side of his face, “while I would love that, I don't think I have time. I should freshen up, else I'll be late for work.” He pulled out of me, his brows pulling together in sudden displeasure, “you're always running off. You always liked second rounds.” He was right. I used to look forward to getting fucked but since Derek aged, I'd rather have my own hands in there than have him. But somehow, I still loved him, even as the marriage made me unhappy. I rose up from the bed, tying the straps of my robe, “well, someone taught me that work should always come first.” I heard him chuckle behind me, “using my own words against me huh? One of these days I'm going to lock the door and keep you here.” I glanced over my shoulder with a tight smile, definitely not liking the sound of that, “Then you'd have to attend to my heavy spending habits.” “Easy work,” he smirked, reaching for his phone. Following that,I found my way to the bathroom and after months of scrubbing myself a little too hard, I finally made my way to work. Everything seemed to irritate me at the office–the chattering from the workers, the unfinished documentation of my project and the coffee I'd ordered seventeen minutes ago. My jaws ticked as I moved my executive chair from side to side, reading through a magazine but my focus was barely on it. All that came through my mind was the way my clit ached from dissatisfaction. Just then, the door clicked open and Hailey, my p.a walked in with a mug of coffee. “I'm sorry ma'am, there was a line at the–” “Excuses. You could have gone to the cafeteria downstairs, instead you chose to waste my time!” I snapped, my tone sounding harsher than intended. Hailey shuddered and quickly dropped the mug on my desk, her head facing the ground, “I'm sorry ma'am. It won't happen again.” “Yeah right it won't because I'm going to–” Before I could finish the words, the door to my office swung open again, revealing the least person I expected to see. “Damn girl, don't you think you're a little too feisty this morning?” Tasha, my best friend said, slamming the door behind her. As much as I knew that Tasha was right, I didn't see myself admitting it. My eyes darted towards Hailey, “leave.” Hailey scurried off, leaving me and Tasha in the office. My eyes met Tasha’s and the way her gaze narrowed on me told me she was in her observation zone. I rolled my eyes, “Stop looking at me like that. I'm fine.” “Sure? You look like you're sex starved,” She snorted, popping the gum in her mouth as she took a seat across from me. “Shut up, I'm just not in a good mood,” I corrected, not knowing how to tell her that she wasn't so far from the truth. Hailey was my best friend, and we talked about everything. Well, everything except my sex life. Although she was comfortable enough to tell me about hers. “Okay, why aren't you in a good mood?” I exhaled deeply, averting her gaze, “It's nothing.” “Mandy.” “I swear it's nothing. I'm just–” “You're terrible at lying so just tell me already,” she persisted. I bit really hard on my lips, resting my palms over my face, “Derek and I had sex this morning. And…and it was…hmm, you know kinda fake?” Tasha's eyes widened, then they relaxed with something close to sadness. “So you mean to tell me that you've not been getting good orgasms?” I nodded. The atmosphere in the room thickened with tension as we both fell silent. We stayed like that for a long moment, until Tasha perched up, leaning forward with a small smirk. “I have a really good idea.” That made my heart skip, because the thing about Tasha's ideas was that they were always irrational,which was a contrast to my own rational suggestions. But just because I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, I chose to hear her out. “What?” “You need to have a one night stand with a stranger.”VANESSA’S POV His hand tightened around my wrist and he dragged me back before I could take another step. “Are you sure you want what you’re asking for?” His voice was low and steady. I swallowed. “I’m sure.” He stood slowly, still holding my wrist. His eyes moved over my face like he was examining me. “This is your last chance to run away,” he said. “Walk out that door and I’ll pretend this never happened. Everything will go back to normal and what happened last night will never happen again. But if you stay… I can’t promise you’ll remain the same afterwards.” My heart was racing, but I leaned in closer instead of pulling back. “Bring it on. I can handle it.” Something dark flickered in his eyes. He turned me around without another word and pushed me toward the bed. The backs of my knees hit the mattress and I fell onto it. He followed, standing between my legs as I pushed myself up on my elbows. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said quietly. “It’s high time I tau
VANESSA’S POV The next day started like any other day, apart from the fact that I was a bit skeptical to see my stepfather. He had just had the full length of his tongue inside me last night. It would be weird trying to look and talk to him normally. I went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, hoping he wouldn’t come in. The house felt too quiet. Every sound I made—the fridge door, the clink of a plate—seemed louder than usual. I kept glancing at the doorway, half expecting him to appear, half hoping he wouldn’t. I was cracking eggs into a bowl when I heard footsteps. My body tensed. Mr. Kingsley walked in wearing a plain black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, looking far too calm for someone who had his mouth between my legs less than twelve hours ago. He didn’t say good morning. He just went to the cupboard, took out a mug, and started making coffee like nothing had happened. The silence stretched. I focused on the eggs, whisking them harder than necessary. My mind kept re
VANESSA’s POV I rushed to cover myself but couldn’t do so in time. Mr. Kingsley’s frame moved through the door. “Sorry, I heard a-“ Mr. Kingsley was saying when he saw me. My legs were wide open and my wet pussy was very visible to him. His eyes lingered on my pussy making red rise to my cheeks. But I didn’t close my legs. He had already seen it so what was the need? He cleared his throat and lifted his gaze slowly to my flushed face. I was sweaty and my hair a mess. But I didn’t care. “What’s this, Nessa?” He asked, his voice calm and controlled. “I- uh,” I started but couldn’t find the words. He exhaled and moved into the room slowly. He closed the door gently behind him and walked closer to my bed. My heart crashed into my ribcage and I felt inclined to close my legs. He looked down and saw what I was doing then spoke. “It looks like I interrupted,” he said. I nodded shamelessly. “Need help finishing?” He asked, his question throwing me off guard.
VANESSA’S POV Mr. Kingsley was everything I wanted but couldn’t have. Extremely good-looking, with sharp features, bulging muscles I wanted to feel so badly, and a smile that was enough to make me wet instantly. My mother was a very lucky woman. She had managed to get herself a man like that just two months after my father passed away. I shook my head, hoping to chase away the improper thoughts and concentrate on washing the dishes. It didn’t work. I heard a knock at the kitchen door and turned just in time to see it open. It was Mr. Kingsley—my stepfather. “Nessa,” he called, his deep voice doing crazy things to my body. I wanted to touch myself just from the sound of his voice. “Yes, Mr. Kingsley?” I replied quickly, hoping my expression didn’t betray me. “Mom wants to see you in the living room,” he announced, crossing his arms. I stiffened. As if he noticed the change in my expression, he added, “Don’t worry. You’re not in trouble. Even if you are, I’ll save you.






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