All Chapters of Dirty Little Lessons (An Erotica Collection): Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The storm was raging like it wanted to rip the damn roof off, and I couldn’t sleep. My silk nightgown was glued to my tits and thighs, the air so thick I could smell the rain. Forty-two years old, widowed, horny as hell, and thinking about my life decisions when I suddenly heard my bedroom door easing open.Lightning flashed, and there he was: Alex, twenty-two, my stepson, barefoot in those black sweatpants that always hung too low. I could see the V shape and the veins leading to his cock. He thought I was asleep, and he went straight to my lingerie drawer like he owned the place, pulled out my favorite black lace thong, and buried his face in it like a fucking animal.Heat rushed between my legs so hard I almost moaned out loud. I stepped out of the dark. “Enjoying yourself, baby boy?”He spun around, the lace still in his fist, as though he was trying to hide it, his eyes huge from the shock of being caught. Thunder cracked right overhead, the way his cock jumped in those pants tol

After the bath I didn’t let him dry off properly. I wanted him dripping, desperate, and smelling like my coconut body wash. I marched him naked down the hall, cock already half-hard again, swaying heavily between his thighs, but I’d made it clear: he didn’t get to cum again until he earned it.I stopped in the middle of the living room, sunlight pouring through the big windows, and pushed him down onto the plush rug.“Sit. Hands behind your back.”He dropped instantly, knees spread, cock jutting up thick and hard, with water still beaded on his chest and abs. I stood over him and peeled off my bathroom robe, I had nothing underneath, just me, naked, tits heavy and aching from how much he'd sucked it in the past hours.His eyes went straight to my chest and stayed there.“You’ve been staring at these since you were sixteen,” I said, cupping my breasts and lifting them, letting them spill over my hands. “Today you finally get to fuck them.”A strangled sound escaped his throat.I droppe

The next morning I woke up with Alex’s cock already buried inside me. We’d fallen asleep spooning after that endless marathon, his arms locked around my waist, dick still half-hard and plugged deep in my pussy like he was afraid I’d disappear if he pulled out. Cum from the night before had dried sticky between my thighs, and every tiny shift made me feel how full and used I was.I clenched around him on purpose, and he groaned into my neck, hips jerking instinctively.“Morning, baby boy,” I whispered, reaching back to grab his ass and push him deeper. “You’re going to spend the entire day exactly like this, balls deep in your stepmommy’s cunt.”He whimpered, already thrusting slowly and sleepy.I rolled over so I was on my back, legs spread wide, and pushed him up so he was kneeling between them. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, lighting up every inch of his body, sweat already beading on his chest, cock shiny with last night’s mess, eyes dark and desperate.I reached for my ph

I’d been living with Jake for three months, and every single day was torture in the best possible way.He was 6’2 tall, built like he spent half his life in the gym, with messy dark hair and that lazy half-smile that made my stomach flip. We split the rent on a tiny two-bedroom flat, and the walls were so thin I could hear him showering every morning. I’d lie in bed pretending to scroll on my phone while I listened to the water run over his body, imagining what he looked like naked, with soap sliding down those abs I’d accidentally seen when he walked out of the bathroom in just a towel one time.I tried to be good, I really did, but some nights the ache got too much.It was a Thursday, close to midnight. Jake had gone out with friends, or at least that’s what he’d said. I figured I had the place to myself, I was in my room, the door cracked open because the flat was hot and stuffy, I was wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt. I was so fucking horny, so I slid my hand between my

Five years, that’s how long Damien and I have been married. We've been together for seven if you count the two years we dated before he slid that ridiculous diamond on my finger in front of half of our friends and families at a rooftop bar he’d rented out just to make sure no one else could ruin the moment.Back then, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. We did it everywhere, the elevators, coat closets at galas, the back of his town car with the privacy screen up and the driver pretending he couldn’t hear me moaning Damien’s name. Once, in the restroom of a restaurant, we fucked against the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse while the city flickered below us like it was putting on a show just for us.But now?We only have sex on Saturdays if neither of us is too exhausted from work. Lights dimmed, missionary or me on top if I’m feeling bold. He kisses my forehead afterward, tells me he loves me, and we fall asleep back-to-back because the AC is too cold on his side and I