All Chapters of Dirty Little Lessons (An Erotica Collection): Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

I couldn’t sleep, and tomorrow I was marrying David, the man I’d loved for six years, the man who’d put a two-carat diamond on my finger and promised me forever in front of everyone we knew.Tonight my body felt like it was on fire and my brain wouldn’t shut up, so I slipped out of bed at 2:14 a.m., left David snoring softly, and padded barefoot across the dark suite in nothing but the thin silk robe the hotel had left hanging in the bathroom. The marble floor was cold under my feet and it made my nipples harden instantly. I didn’t bother tying the robe close, it gaped open with every step, cool air kissing my bare pussy, my heavy tits swaying freely.The full-length mirror in the bathroom was floor-to-ceiling, it was framed in gold and lit by the soft glow of the vanity lights. I stared at myself for a second: wild bed-hair, flushed cheeks, lips swollen from biting them all evening, robe barely clinging to my shoulders. I looked like a woman about to do something filthy, and I was.

I was flat on my back in the middle of the king-size bed, my chest heaving, thighs still trembling from the last orgasm. David’s cum on my face and tits, and Cade’s cum leaking out of my swollen pussy. The sheets were soaked beneath me, a giant wet spot spreading on it.David knelt beside my head, cock half-hard again already, lazily stroking the mess he’d left on my cheek with his thumb.“Look at you,” he said, voice low and filthy. “My beautiful bride, covered in cum before she even says ‘I do.’ You happy, baby?”I licked my lips, tasting him, and nodded. “So fucking happy.”Cade stood at the foot of the bed, still fully naked, cock thick and hanging heavy between his legs, shining with my juices. He was watching us like he was memorizing every second.David glanced at him, then back at me. “You want more?”I laughed, breathless and wrecked. “I want everything.”Cade’s mouth curved into that dangerous half-smile. “Greedy girl.”He crawled onto the bed, pushed my thighs apart again,

Mark had been gone since Thursday morning on another “urgent” business trip, and by Saturday night the house felt too big, too quiet, and my body felt too cold. Eight years of marriage and the last twelve months had been nothing but quick, polite missionary sex once every six weeks—if I was lucky. My pussy ached constantly now, a low, desperate throb that no amount of yoga, warm bath or wine could fix. So I poured myself a third glass of Pinot Noir, turned off every light except the soft glow from the fireplace, and decided tonight was the night I was going to fuck myself stupid in the middle of our perfect suburban living room.I stripped naked right there on the plush white rug. My heavy tits bounced free, nipples already hard from the cool air and the anticipation. I set my phone on the coffee table on its little tripod, hit record—something I’d never done before— and angled it so the lens caught everything: the L-shaped sectional couch, the ottoman, and me, dripping and shameless

The next morning came too fast, I woke up sore in places I didn’t know could be sore, my thighs were sticky, sheets wrapped around my naked body like bondage rope. Ryan was already gone from the guest room, but his smell was everywhere: sweat, sex, that sharp fragrance of his cologne that now permanently mixed with the scent of my own cum.I thought I’d feel ashamed, instead I felt a pulse between my legs so strong I had to squeeze my thighs together under the covers.My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I checked and it was a video file from an unknown number. I knew who and what it was before I even opened it.The thumbnail alone made me gasp, it showed me on my knees in the living room, mascara smeared, mouth stretched wide around Ryan’s hard cock, eyes rolled back in bliss. The caption underneath read:”Morning, sweetheart. Breakfast is served in ten minutes, wear Mark’s favorite white button-down and nothing else.And leave the top four buttons undone.”I was shaking as I walked do

Ethan, my boyfriend, pulled up every other night, just to see me like he couldn’t stay away. He killed the headlights on his black Jeep before he even reached my dorm, slowing to a stop under the broken lamp post so security wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. I was already waiting on the curb in nothing but his oversized hoodie and a pair of tiny cotton shorts, with no bra, no panties, because what was the point? The second I slipped into the passenger seat and shut the door, the air turned thick and charged.He barely muttered an “Hi", he just grabbed the front of the hoodie, pulled me across the car console, my back on the console, facing up, facing him and kissed me so deep my head spun. While his tongue slid against mine, his right hand was already between my thighs, pushing the shorts to the side, one thick finger tracing my slit and finding me soaked.“Fuck, baby,” he rasped against my lips. “You were already dripping for me.”I whimpered softly, breaking the kiss and