All Chapters of Forbidden Confession:- An Extra Spicy Erotica Collection : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The first night it happened I hadn’t planned a damn thing, I’d only gone to the kitchen half-asleep, scratching my chest, boxers hanging low on my hips, and that’s when I saw her—my tenant, the girl who’d only moved in two weeks ago, bent over the fridge in nothing but a thin tank top that didn’t hide her nipples and a pair of shorts so small they were practically underwear, and the way she stretched up on her toes, humming quietly, pulling a bottle of water like she owned the place, like she wasn’t in my house, drove something mean and primal into my gut, and I swear I just stood there staring like a bastard, imagining what she’d taste like if I pressed my mouth against the sweat-sheened back of her neck, what sound she’d make if I pushed those flimsy shorts aside and slid into her right there against the refrigerator door.She didn’t even notice me at first, too busy sipping from her bottle, her throat working, head tipped back, and I thought about how easy it would be to wrap my ha

The bus jolted again, hard enough to rattle the windows, and she grabbed my arm like she was startled, but her nails dug in a little too deep, her thighs clamping tighter around me, trapping my cock between her sticky folds. Her chest was heaving, her breath hitching against my shoulder, and all I could think about was how insane it was—half the family asleep just feet away, the driver humming at the wheel, and here she was letting me finger her like she’d been waiting for it all along.Her hand lingered on my arm, like she was going to push me away, but then it slid lower, resting right at my wrist, right where my fingers were buried in her pussy, and instead of pulling me back she pressed me deeper, rolling her hips in tiny circles that smeared her slick all over my hand. My cock twitched between her thighs, smearing pre-cum along the inside of her shorts, and I couldn’t stop myself from grinding harder, rutting like an animal desperate for release, muffling every groan against her

The second the bus stopped at a dingy rest area, the lights flickered on and the driver grunted about a smoke break, a few of the family stumbling off half-asleep for the bathrooms, and I knew this was it—the only chance we’d get before morning, before reality came back to claw us apart. She caught my eyes in the half-dark, her lips swollen, her thighs still trembling from what we’d done, and without a word she grabbed my hand and pulled me down the narrow aisle, past the rows of snoring relatives, out the side door into the stale night air. The parking lot was deserted, only the glow of a single buzzing light pole, the driver hunched far away with his cigarette, and she didn’t even hesitate—she dragged me behind the bus, into the shadows, pressing me against the metal siding like she’d been waiting for this exact moment. Her hands yanked at my waistband, desperate, her breath hot against my mouth as she hissed, “I need it, now. Don’t care if someone hears. Just do the stuff.” I di

The sun had already dipped low, bleeding orange and gold across the horizon, when Claire heard the knock at her apartment door. She froze mid-step, her heart leaping into her throat. It wasn’t fear, not exactly. More like guilt.Because she knew what was in that box.Her gaze slid to the small table by the wall where she’d left her phone. The screen still glowed with her last text confirmation: Your order has been shipped. She hadn’t expected it to arrive so quickly. She hadn’t expected it to arrive tonight, when she was already restless, already keyed up with a kind of gnawing need that had haunted her all week.The knock came again. Firm. probably maleClaire swallowed hard, adjusting the thin cotton tank top she wore. It wasn’t exactly modest. Neither were the shorts that clung to her thighs. She hadn’t dressed for company. But then again… this wasn’t supposed to be company. This was supposed to be discreet.She crossed the room, her bare feet soundless on the hardwood. Her hand ho

The house was too quiet.Too perfect.Anya padded barefoot across the polished hardwood floor, the hum of the fridge the only sound in the otherwise silent suburban palace. She had been babysitting here for weeks now, a few evenings here and there while Mrs. Harding ran errands, but tonight the house felt… different. Empty in a way She knew she shouldn’t snoop. She wasn’t that kind of girl. But temptation had a way of chewing at her when she was alone in this house. Mrs. Harding wasn’t like the other moms she babysat for. She wasn’t dumpy or distracted. She was composed. Beautiful in a way that was dangerous. Her lipstick always perfect. Her skirts tight in all the right places. And the way she smelled—like some heady mix of vanilla and something darker—lingered on the air long after she left.So when Maya’s eyes caught the edge of a half-open dresser drawer upstairs, her heart skipped. She wasn’t supposed to be in the master bedroom at all. But her feet carried her across the carpet