All Chapters of Untamed Desires (A Collection of short Stories): Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

I was sitting in the back of Lit class like always, half paying attention and half scrolling on my phone under the desk. Then the door opened and in walked this woman who made my brain short-circuit. Ms. Valeria Kane. She was the substitute for the week while our regular professor was out. Thirty-two, black hair pulled back tight, white blouse that looked like it was fighting to keep her tits from spilling out, and a black pencil skirt hugging her ass like it was painted on. She didn't even say good morning. Just started writing on the board and talking about some old book. But every few minutes her eyes would flick to the back row and land right on me. Not a quick glance. A stare. Like she knew exactly what I was thinking about her body. By the end of class my dick was already half-hard just from watching her walk around and her ass giggle. When the bell rang and everyone started packing up, she raised her voice. "Alex. Stay behind for a minute." Shit. My stomach twisted. I

It was almost 10 PM and the library was dead quiet. I dragged myself to the basement study room because finals were kicking my ass and I needed to actually pass something this semester Three girls were already there: Mia, Sophie, and this quiet girl named Rachel who barely spoke. Mia was the one who caught my eye immediately. Twenty-one, petite, innocent-looking brunette with big doe eyes and a tiny waist. She always dressed like a good girl; with little cardigan, pleated skirt, hair in a ponytail. Nobody would guess she was a total freak. Sophie was the opposite. Big natural tits that strained her hoodie, thick thighs, and this shy way of looking away whenever I caught her staring. We studied for about an hour. Rachel left first, then Sophie said she needed to grab a coffee from upstairs. The second the door closed behind her, Mia locked it. She turned around with this wicked little smile. “I heard what you did with Ms. Kane,” she said softly. “The whole floor heard you

After the wild night in Ms. Kane’s office, I tried to lay low for a bit but ended up starting something real with Sophie from the study group. She’s the big-titted, quiet one. We’ve been “official” for a couple weeks now — dates, sex, the whole thing. But her mom is a whole different level of dangerous. ****** Sophie had been bugging me for weeks to come over for dinner and meet her mom. I finally said yes. After everything that had already gone down on campus, I figured dinner at my new girlfriend’s house would be the most normal thing I’d done in a while. Big mistake. We pulled up to their big house on the edge of town around 6:30. Sophie’s dad was away on some work trip, so it was just going to be the three of us. The second I walked in, I knew I was fucked. Vanessa stood in the kitchen wearing a tight black tank top and gray yoga pants that looked like they were two sizes too small. Forty-four years old but built like a fucking pornstar. Massive heavy tits, wide hips,

*A New Collection The interrogation room smelled like old coffee and bleach. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, throwing a sickly pale glow over the metal table bolted to the floor. One wall held the big one-way mirror, dark and watchful. Max Hale sat handcuffed to the chair, legs spread, trying to look bored instead of pissed off. Three hours in this box already and the usual cops had gotten nowhere. He knew the game. Keep your mouth shut, act like you’ve got better places to be, and eventually they send you back to holding. The door clicked open. And a dectivive -- Detective Valeria Kane stepped in alone. She closed the door behind her with a soft sound, then reached up and flicked a switch on the wall panel and the red recording light above the mirror blinked off. Max lifted an eyebrow. “Finally sending in the cleanup crew?” Val didn’t answer right away. She took her time walking around the table, heels clicking slow against the tile. Tight white blouse tucked into a bl

I never thought I’d be doing this type of shit.My name’s Riley Brooks. 23, former Instagram model who used to pull decent brand deals until the algorithm fucked me over and the sponsors dried up. Rent was due, credit cards maxed, and my little sister needed braces she wasn’t gonna get unless I made some real money fast. So when the agency called me with a last-minute gig, saying some private companion for some rich guy on a flight to Dubai: I replied yes before I could even understand fully.They made it sound classy. “Just smile, laugh at his jokes, keep him company.” Twelve grand for just one long flight. Easy.I should’ve known better.The white SUV dropped me off right on the tarmac at a private airport outside the city. A gleaming white Gulfstream jet waited with its stairs down. At the top stood him.Victor Kane.Even from a distance I knew who he was. Everybody did. 38, built like he lifted heavy shit and closed billion-dollar deals in the same breath. Dark hair, sharp jaw, ex