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Home / Romance / Dirty Little Lessons (An Erotica Collection) / Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

All Chapters of Dirty Little Lessons (An Erotica Collection): Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

136 Chapters

The Midnight Train 01

The platform at Grand Central was full of people at 12:47 a.m., the fluorescent lights reflected brightly, with insects buzzing round them. I had missed the last express by three minutes and now stood wedged between a businessman scrolling stock tickers and a college kid with earbuds blasting a rap. My little black dress clung to my thighs, damp from the summer humidity that refused to get better even after midnight. The skirt barely skimmed mid-thigh, the neckline dipped low enough that every breath threatened spillage. I had dressed for the club, not for this sardine-can that's crawling uptown.When the train screeched to a stop, the doors slid open and the crowd surged in. I was pushed forward on a tide of elbows and briefcases, my four-inch heels skidding on the smooth floor. Someone’s umbrella hit my calf. A woman’s perfume, something floral, clung to my nostrils. Then the doors slid with a hiss, and the train took off, pinning me chest-to-back against a stranger.He was tall. Th

The Midnight Train 02

My heels clicked too loud in the sudden quiet, each step echoing like a gunshot. Cool air rushed in from the tunnel, making goosebumps appear on my thighs where his fingers had left wet trails that were drying fast. My thong was a ruined piece of lace, soaked through and clinging to my swollen pussy lips, every shift of the fabric sent desires up my spine.I should have kept walking, should have climbed the stairs, hailed a cab, gone home to shower off the stranger’s scent and pretend the last twenty minutes were just a dream. Instead I stopped at the far end of the platform at 96th, my back pressed to a grimy pillar, legs trembling so hard I had to lean. My heart still thundered in my ears, like a frantic drumbeat matching the wet throb between my legs. I could smell myself, and the musky arousal cutting through the station’s usual smell of urine and sweat.I heard footsteps, slow and deliberate ones. I had a feeling it was him before I looked up. I don't know how he managed to come

The Midnight Train 03

The Red Door had a huge door wedged between a convenience store and a laundromat, its sign nothing more than a red bulb flickering above the huge door. I pushed through at 1:12 a.m., my thighs still trembling, his cum slick between them with every step. The bouncer barely glanced at my ID, just a flick of his eyes over my flushed face and ruined lipstick, before unhooking the velvet rope and letting me in.Inside, the air was thick with cigar smoke and the scent of a mixture of different colognes, the bass was thrumming so loud that I could feel it in my chest. The bar has red velvet booths lined along the walls, with crystal chandeliers dripping light over the entire room. I spotted him immediately in the back booth, a bottle of bourbon and two glasses already waiting. His jacket was off now, sleeves rolled to the elbow, revealing forearms hardened with muscle and a tattoo curling around his left wrist, of a serpent devouring its own tail.He didn’t stand when I approached, just cr

The Midnight Train 04

The sky outside the high, curtainless window had turned slightly orange when I stirred awake. My throat was still a little bit sore from screaming and moaning, my thighs were stained with dried and fresh cum, my pussy so swollen that every step sent sparks up my spine. I thought he was letting me rest well. Instead the moment he saw that I had woken up, he looped a soft black rope around my wrists, kissed the inside of each palm gently, almost tender, then led me across the room to the St. Andrew’s cross.“Up,” he said.I obeyed on shaky legs, my back pressing to the cool, X-shaped cross. The wood smelled faintly of leather and wood polish. He buckled my wrists high above my head first, then knelt to spread my ankles wide apart, securing them to the lower arms of the cross. The position left me completely open, with my tits thrusting forward, hips tilted, cunt glistening and gaping from the night’s sex. He stepped back to admire his work, sipping from a porcelain coffee cup he’d pour

The Midnight Train 05

I woke to sunlight pouring through floor-to-ceiling windows and the smell of fresh coffee. No ropes, no cross, no buzzing toys, just crisp white sheets tangled around my legs and the dull, delicious ache between my thighs that reminded me everything from last night had actually happened.He was already up, leaning against the kitchen island in nothing but low-riding gray sweatpants, hair messy and slightly darker in the morning light. The penthouse was all glass and steel and sky, in downtown Manhattan glittering thirty-eight floors below, we had checked out at eleven and headed to his house. He watched me walk across the hardwood, naked and marked, with hand prints on my hips, faint belt lines on my wrists, a bite mark turning purple on the swell of my left breast.“Coffee?” he asked, voice softer than it had any right to be after wrecking me for eight straight hours.I nodded, my throat still sore. He poured a mug, added exactly the right amount of cream without asking, and handed i

On The Boss's Desk 01

The 47th floor was dead quiet except for the low hum of the computers and air conditioning and the soft click of my heels on polished marble. Everyone else had signed out hours ago. I told them I wanted to round up some files, that was a flimsy lie. I wanted to be the last one here.I wanted him to know I was the last one here.At 9:17 p.m. the private elevator dinged. I didn’t look up from my laptop, but every inch of my skin prickled when his shadow fell across my desk. Italian leather shoes, charcoal suit trousers, the faint scent of cedar and something darker. “Still working, Miss Hart?”I finally met his eyes. Mr. Callum Reid, the CEO, thirty-five years old, unfairly gorgeous, and the man who’d starred in every filthy daydream I’d had for eighteen months. Tonight his tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled high enough to show the ropey veins in his forearms. My mouth went dry.“Just tying up loose ends, sir,” I said, letting the word sir linger a half-second too long.He didn’t sm

On The Boss's Desk 02

Ten minutes after he’d fucked me on his desk, I was still trembling, my thighs slick, blouse hanging open like a surrender flag. Callum tucked himself away calmly. “Walk,” he said.I tried to fix my skirt, but he caught my wrist. “Leave it. I like you ruined.”He led me half-naked, heels clicking, down the dark hallway to the executive conference room. Motion-sensor lights flickered on as we entered, a twenty-foot slab, twenty leather chairs, floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides. The city sparkled below colourfully.He flicked one switch, and the automated blinds stayed open.“Monday at eight,” he said, voice low, “the entire board will sit right here.” He patted the glossy table. “I want them to smell you on the wood when they walk in.”My breath hitched. “Callum—”“Hands on the table, Marcey. Ass out.”I obeyed instantly, palms slapping the cold surface, legs spreading wide. The position left my ruined thong twisted to the side, pussy swollen and dripping a mixture of us down my

On The Boss's Desk 03

By 7:52 a.m., the executive elevator dinged and the first voices drifted down the hall: CFO, General Counsel, the head of Sales laughing about last night’s game. I was already seated at the conference table, exactly where Callum told me to be, right-hand side, closest to his chair at the head.My black pencil skirt was one inch shorter than HR technically allowed, my blouse was silk, almost sheer. And underneath? I wore nothing, not even a scrap. My pussy was still swollen, still tender, still sore from all the thrusting over the weekend. Every shift in the leather seat made me bite back a whimper.Callum walked in last, wearing a crisp navy suit, white shirt open at the throat, looking like he’d slept ten hours instead of fucking me senseless until dawn. He didn’t even glance at me as he took his seat, just opened his laptop and said, “Let’s begin.”Twenty pairs of eyes turned to the screen.Mine stayed on the faint, unmistakable M dried into the table two feet in front of me. It had

On The Boss's Desk 04

At 6:03 p.m. on Friday the all-staff email went out.Subject: Building maintenance – 47th floor closed until Monday 8 a.m.Remote access disabled. Do not attempt entry.— C. ReidBy 6:17 the elevators were locked to our floor only, by 6:25 the cleaning crew had been sent home with triple pay, by 6:30 the entire 47th floor belonged to just the two of us.Callum found me in the photocopy room, sleeves rolled up, unbuttoning my blouse one torturous button at a time.“Strip,” he said. “Everything off except the heels and the collar I left on your desk.”I hadn’t even noticed the thin black leather band until that moment. Velvet on the inside, steel on the outside, a tiny silver ring at the throat. I fastened it with shaky fingers while he watched, eyes dark.Then the clothes hit the floor, he clipped a matching black leash to the ring and gave one gentle tug. “Walk.”He led me naked through the empty working space, past rows of dark monitors and abandoned coffee mugs, my heels clicking, n

On The Boss's Desk 05

At 7:11 a.m., the elevator doors slid open on the 47th floor and the smell hit me first: sex, leather, and the faint smoky trace of Friday night’s fireplace. It clung to every surface, every breath.I stepped out on legs that still trembled from the vigorous pounding over the weekend. Callum had dressed me himself an hour ago in his penthouse, black sheath dress, no bra, no panties, the same black collar hidden under a silk scarf. My hair was perfect, makeup flawless, but between my thighs I was swollen, aching, and absolutely full of him. He’d fucked me slow against the shower wall at dawn, whispering, “Hold it in, baby. All day.”Now the floor was coming alive.First arrivals walked in, Sarah from Accounting, headphones in; Marcus from Legal, humming. They nodded good-morning like nothing had changed, but everything had.I walked the hallway to my office, past the atrium railing where he’d made me come so hard I’d squirted onto the marble far below.Past the kitchen island still bea

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