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Home / Romance / Dirty Affairs: An Erotic Compilation / Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

All Chapters of Dirty Affairs: An Erotic Compilation : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

112 Chapters

0101: My Hot Hockey Neighbor — Part 2

MEGAN The morning sun was streaming through the hallway windows, highlighting the tiny scuffs on the floor and the nervous sweat cooling on my palms. I stood in front of Apartment 4B, my hand hovering inches away from the dark wood of Singh’s door. My mind was nothing but a chaotic mess of "what ifs." What if I was crossing a line? What if I was being too clingy? We had spent the previous night essentially fusing our souls together on a chair, but daylight has a funny way of making everything feel a lot more casual. And again, WHAT IF it was just a one night thing? Still, I pretended I only wanted to check on his ankle. That was the cover story, anyway. I could pretend I wanted to see if the swelling had gone down, or if he needed more ice—or if he needed me. Just as I decided I was being a total creep and spun around to retreat to the safety of my own place, I heard the click of the lock. The door swung open, and there he was. Singh. He didn't just fill the d

0102: My Hot Hockey Neighbor — Part 3

MEGAN I stood in the bathroom, the steam from my shower still clinging to the mirror, and I couldn't stop the silly, lopsided grin from spreading across my face. If anyone had told me on Friday that by Saturday evening my legs would be shaking not just from stress, but from the sheer intensity of my neighborly relations with Singh, I would have called them crazy. My weekend had turned into the most adventurous, erotic experience of my life, and honestly? I had never been this excited about a Saturday. Not for once in my entire life. Every time I closed my eyes, I could still feel the weight of his body pressing me into his mattress from this morning. I could still hear the way he called me loud. I felt empowered, alive, and incredibly hungry for more. I hurried into my bedroom, grinning like a totally finished woman. I picked out a pair of form-fitting blue jeans and a simple black crop top. Singh had told something about a game being on—some big rivalry match—and inv

0103: Backshots In A Public Bathroom — Part 1

TRACIE The ice in my glass had melted long ago, diluting the amber bourbon into something pale and weak, much like my own resolve. I sat at the mahogany bar of The Obama, my second home at this point. This place was the only sanctuary that shielded me from the suffocating silence of my failing relationship and the judgmental whispers of a family that saw me as a lost cause. Here, amidst the thumping bass and the smell of expensive cigarettes, I could disappear. But tonight, I wasn't disappearing. I was being hunted. I felt his gaze before I saw him. He was more like a silhouette carved out of the shadows in the far corner of the VIP, dressed in an all-black three-piece suit that fit his broad frame like a second skin. He didn't move. He didn't drink. He just watched me. In this part of the city, men like him didn't just exist; they ruled. He gave off a cold, lethal energy that suggested he was the type of man who probably dealt in the dark trade of the black

0104: Backshots In A Public Bathroom — Part 2

TRACIE Monday morning usually felt like a slow death, but today, my skin felt too tight even for my own body. I couldn't explain the tension I was feeling but it was right there. As I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles in my pencil skirt, my mind was a million miles away. I was thinking about the club. I was thinking about the back shots I'd gotten in a public bathroom, and the way that man—that dangerous, nameless stranger—had looked at me while he destroyed every bit of my dignity with his big cock. Since that night, I felt more alive than I had in years. I tried to tell myself I was disgusted, and that I wasn't in my right state of mind because I was half drunk. But the way my heart hammered every time I remembered his scent told an entirely different story. A knock on my bedroom door snapped me back to reality. It was one of my father's staff, looking nervous. "Ms. Tracie, your father is asking for you in the living room. He says it’s urg

0105: Backshots In A Public Bathroom — Part 3

ERIC The bass from the speakers was vibrating through the floorboards and rattling the ice in the shakers. Saturday night at The Vibe club was always a descent into madness. It was the kind of place where people came to lose themselves, and as a waiter, I was the one tasked with keeping the fuel for that fire flowing. I hated this job. Every time I pulled on the black vest and that suffocating white shirt, I felt a piece of my soul shrivel up. I had a degree in finance gathering dust in a drawer back at my cramped apartment, but in this city, a degree was just a piece of paper if you didn't have the right handshake or the right last name. So, here I was, carrying trays of overpriced vodka and dodging the grabby hands of people who thought a ten-dollar tip simply bought them a piece of me. I had just finished serving Table 5. It was a bachelorette party, and the girls were already past the point of no return. They were wearing dresses that were basically just threads, an

0106: Backshots In A Public Bathroom — Part 4

MAX The rap song playing from the speakers in the converted garage was thumping so hard I could feel it in the soles of my feet. The air smelled like cheap keg beer, sweat, and of course, victory. We’d just crushed our rivals, and as the quarterback of the hockey team—the guy who’d made the final play—I should’ve been high on the win. But I wasn't. I was fucking high on the sight of Clover. Clover Arnold was a goddess with a mean streak, the leader of the cheer team, and unfortunately, she was Chad’s girl. My best friend's property, and that should make her off limits for real. But still, I couldn't stop indulging the cravings. She had this long, straight auburn hair that flowed all the way down to her waist like a river of fire. Right now, she was leaning against Chad, her hand looped possessively around his neck while he barked out a laugh at something she’d whispered. I took a long, slow pull from my chilled can of beer, my eyes tracking her every move. That was when

0107: Backshots In A Public Bathroom — Part 5

REBECCA The smell of the coffee shop usually made me feel grounded, but right now, the aroma of roasted beans was being drowned out by the pungent scent of sweat and raw sex. I was pinned against the cold, tiled wall of the employee bathroom, my breath hitching as my boss, Mr. Sterling, loomed over me like a shadow. He didn't look like the professional man who ran the most successful cafe in the district anymore. His tie was loosened, his sleeves were rolled up to reveal corded forearms, and his eyes were dark with a hunger that both terrified and thrilled me. "You’ve been asking for this all week, haven't you, Rebecca?" he growled, his voice a low vibration against my skin. He smelled like the black coffee he drank by the gallon and the salty heat of a man who had reached his breaking point. I couldn't even answer. My skirt was up around my waist, and my lace panties were somewhere on the floor. He grabbed my hips with hands that felt like iron, bruising my skin as he p

108: Backshots In A Public Bathroom — Part 6

ISABELLA The air in the cramped, dimly lit public bathroom smelled of industrial bleach and the heavy, musky scent of arousal. My pulse was drumming in my ears, and my silk dress was bunched up around my waist in a messy heap of fabric. My breasts were fully exposed, my nipples tight and aching as the cool air hit them, but I didn't care about the cold. I only cared about the two men watching me with predatory hunger. Harper and Balor. One was the man I was supposed to be loyal to, and the other was the man who had been tempting me for months. Now, I was caught between them, and I had never felt more alive. I reached out, my hands trembling as I gripped both of their lengths. They were already rock-hard, jerking against my palms. I leaned forward, starting with Harper. I slid my lips over the broad, chocolate-brown head of his cock, swirling my tongue around the ridge before taking him deep. He let out a low, guttural growl, his fingers digging into my hair to guide my

0109: Intense Cravings — Part 1

DEVON The steam from the coffee maker rose in a swirling white cloud, blurring the kitchen window for a second. I stood there, leaning against the counter, my hands wrapped around a ceramic mug that didn't quite provide enough heat for the chill in my bones. It was a Tuesday morning in the middle of a brutal January. Most importantly, it was winter, the kind of winter that makes the house feel too big and the silence feel too heavy. Four years. It had been four years since I lost Rick, and sometimes it felt like it was four minutes. Grief isn't a straight line; it’s a circle that keeps bringing you back to the same empty spot on the bed. I missed his lopsided smile, the way his voice sounded before his first cup of coffee, and God, I missed his touch. Lately, the ache has changed. It wasn't just the sadness anymore; it was now more like a physical hunger that kept me up at night. I’d started touching myself under the heavy quilts, trying to remember what it f

0110: Intense Cravings — Part 2

BELCALIS The tropical air of Hawaii was supposed to be a balm for my shredded soul according to my best friend, but as the private jet touched down, all I felt was a hollow ache in my chest. Two weeks ago, I had walked into my boyfriend’s office to surprise him with lunch, only to find him pressed against his mahogany desk with his ‘senior associate’ wrapped around his waist. The image was immediately burned into my retinas. I couldn't shake it off even if I tried. I mean, how does one pretend they didn't see what had been right there? "Belcalis, look at this place! Stop brooding and breathe," Ivy chirped, swinging her designer tote as we pulled up to a sprawling, modern mansion tucked away in a gated estate. I must confess, the house was a masterpiece of glass and white stone, overlooking a turquoise cove that looked too blue to be real. Inside the house was even more magnificent. The ceiling was easily twenty feet high, and the scent of expensive scented candles filled

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