All Chapters of Forbidden Confession:- An Extra Spicy Erotica Collection : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

*LESBIAN SEX*Anya lay sprawled across the cool sheets, her chest rising and falling too fast, the lace bra cutting across her ribs. Her skin still burned from Mrs. Harding’s handprints, her ass tingling where the spanks had landed.She should have been mortified. She should have been pulling her clothes back on, fleeing down the stairs, never daring to look Mrs. Harding in the eye again. But instead, she was trembling with anticipation, thighs slick and restless, her pulse hammering at the base of her throat.Mrs. Harding stood over her, arms folded, gaze sharp as glass.“Spread,” she ordered.Anya’s eyes went wide. “Wh-what—”“You heard me. Legs. Wide.”Her voice left no room for refusal. Anya’s muscles obeyed before her mind caught up, her knees falling open, panties pulled tight against the swollen mound of her pussy. The dampness had bled through, a dark, humiliating stain that made Anya’s stomach twist.Mrs. Harding smiled, slow and triumphant. “God, you’re dripping. All that fr

Her mouth was still on mine, hot and urgent, when her hand slid up my thigh. I gasped against her lips, the sound swallowed by her tongue as it pressed deeper, demanding. She tasted like heat and something sharp, something that made my whole body want to cave.“God,” she murmured against me, breath ragged, “you’re shaking.”“I’m not,” I whispered, but my voice betrayed me. My knees brushed hers, trembling, desperate.Her smirk curved against my mouth, and then she tugged at my wrist, dragging my hand down until it brushed the bare heat beneath her blanket. My breath shattered. She was wet—slick, pulsing, radiating need.“See?” she breathed, nipping at my lower lip. “That’s what you do to me.”My mind reeled. I should have pulled back, should have bolted for the door. Instead my fingers flexed, sliding just slightly against her, and the sound she made—half-moan, half-growl—shot through me like lightning.“Fuck…” she hissed, hips arching into my hand. “Don’t stop now.”I couldn’t have s

The room smelled of lavender and sandalwood, thick in the warm air, the low hum of music vibrating faintly through hidden speakers. The massage table gleamed under the dim light, draped in crisp white sheets. She climbed onto it, belly down, her towel wrapped loosely around her hips.When he entered, she felt him before she saw him — a shift in the air, heavier, charged. His voice was low, steady.“Relax. Let me take care of you.”The first brush of his hands was professional, almost clinical. Oil dripped, warm, onto her bare back. He spread it across her skin with slow, deliberate strokes, working her muscles with practiced ease. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the rhythm — until his thumbs pressed lower, past the safe places, lingering on the swell of her ass.Her breath hitched. She thought he would move back up, return to her shoulders. Instead, his hands slid lower still, tracing her hips, brushing the tops of her thighs. Her towel shifted, loosening.“You’re very

The sky split open above me like it wanted to drown the whole city. Rain poured so hard it felt like needles against my skin. My hair was plastered to my face, my clothes soaked through, clinging to every curve of my body as I ran down the empty street. My heels slapped against the pavement, splashing through puddles. Thunder cracked so close it shook my chest.I ducked into the narrow alley between two brick buildings, hoping for a little shelter. Instead, the storm funneled down like a waterfall. My dress clung like a second skin, nipples hard and visible through the thin fabric, my thighs slick from more than just rain. The night pressed heavy and alive around me, neon lights flickering in the distance.And then he appeared.A tall figure, dark coat plastered against a broad frame, stepped into the alley from the other end. The lightning behind him lit him like some dangerous god. My breath caught, chest heaving, as his eyes locked on me through the sheets of rain. Something about

I never thought having a stepdad would feel like this—dangerous, forbidden, and so fucking tempting it made me ache in places I didn’t want to admit.It started the day he showed up at my school. Mr. Carter. That’s what everyone called him in class. My new English teacher. My mother’s brand-new husband. My stepdad.I should’ve hated him, should’ve felt betrayed that Mom remarried so quickly after Dad left. Instead, the first time I saw him standing at the front of the classroom, crisp white shirt stretched across his broad chest, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose… I wanted him. Badly.He wasn’t some tired old man either—he was sharp, dangerous, the kind of man who looked like he could fuck the air out of you and never apologize. Dark hair, streaks of silver at his temples, voice deep enough to make my thighs press together under the desk.And worst of all, he knew it.Our eyes met as he handed out the syllabus, and I swear I saw the flicker