All Chapters of Dirty Little Lessons (An Erotica Collection): Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

I spent the entire next morning trying not to overthink the coffee date with Mason, but of course that’s exactly what I did. I kept replaying the party in my head—the way his eyes had lingered on me when I walked into the kitchen, the small smile that tugged at his mouth when he acknowledged I was definitely not a “kid" anymore, the brief touch when he tucked that loose strand of hair behind my ear. It was nothing and everything at the same time, and by the time I was standing in front of my closet, I’d changed outfits four times.First the sundress, it felt like doing too much for coffee. Then the leggings and oversized sweater, it felt too cozy, like I was trying to look cute without trying. I finally settled on dark jeans that hugged my hips just right, a soft cream-colored blouse that showed a hint of collarbone, and my favorite ankle boots that gave me a little extra height. I let my hair down in loose waves, did minimal makeup—just enough mascara and lip gloss to feel put toget

The days after that first night with Mason turned into this addictive, filthy rhythm that consumed me completely.I’d wake up alone in my bed, my body still humming from the way he’d fucked me the night before, sheets tangled and smelling like sex and him. My pussy would be sore in the best way—swollen, tender, a constant reminder of how deep he’d been, how hard he’d thrust until I was screaming his name.I’d touch myself in the shower every morning, fingers sliding easy because I was already soaked just thinking about him. I’d circle my clit slow at first, remembering his mouth there, then faster, two fingers pumping inside me like his cock had, until I came hard against the tile, biting my lip to muffle the moan of his name.We texted all day, talking about dirty, desperate things that kept me wet and aching at work. He’d send “Still wet for me?” and I’d reply “Yes, Daddy.” I’d send him a photo under my desk—skirt hiked, fingers teasing my bare pussy—and he’d call on his break, voi

Marcus’s POV Fuck. This was a mistake.I knew it the second my lips crashed against hers. But knowing something is wrong has never stopped me before.Elena kissed me back like she’d been starving for it—hungry, desperate, and no hesitation. Her fingers curled into the front of my shirt, yanking me down harder, like she was afraid I’d pull away. As if I could. As if the world hadn’t just narrowed to the wet slide of her tongue against mine, the soft whimper she let out when I bit her bottom lip, the way her thighs parted instinctively when I settled my weight between them.I groaned into her mouth, low and rough, my control fraying thread by thread.She tasted better than I’d imagined. Mint toothpaste and the faintest trace of the cherry lip balm she always wore. My hand slid up from her hip, under the hem of that pathetic little tank top, fingers splaying across the warm, soft skin of her stomach. She sucked in a sharp breath, arching up into my touch like she couldn’t help herself.

Marcus's POV Sunlight sliced through the half-closed blinds like it had a personal vendetta.I woke up hard, aching, with Elena’s naked back pressed against my chest and her ass nestled perfectly against my cock like it belonged there.Well, it did.Last night replayed in fragments—her moans, the way she begged, the taste of her on my tongue, the way she clenched around me when she came, the way her hips jerked up.I buried my face in her hair and inhaled. She stirred, and made a soft sleepy sound that went straight to my dick.My arm tightened around her waist instinctively. One hand slid up to cup her breast, my thumb brushing lazily over her nipple. It hardened instantly.“Mmm…” She arched back into me, half-asleep.I pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “Morning, princess.”She froze for half a second—like reality was just crashing back in. Then she turned her head just enough that I could see the corner of her mouth curve.“Morning,” she whispered, voice

The second the apartment door slammed shut behind me, I knew tonight wasn’t going to be gentle.My coat hit the floor. Shoes followed — one heel skittering under the couch like it was running from me. The date had been a fucking disaster. Cute guy, decent jawline, but he talked about his fantasy football league like it was foreplay. By dessert I was so bored my pussy was practically yawning. All I could think about was getting home, getting naked, and getting myself off until my legs shook and my brain went quiet.I didn’t bother with lights. The Manhattan skyline bled through the blinds in bright silver strips, painting my living room like some expensive porn set. Good enough.My fingers were already trembling as I yanked the zipper down on my little black dress. The fabric slid off my shoulders and pooled at my feet. No bra tonight — the thin straps would’ve shown — so my nipples were already hard, tight little peaks begging for attention. I cupped them roughly, thumbs flicking over