Dirty Story Novels & Stories

My heart started racing before my brain caught up. I opened the school’s main page. And there it was. Videos. Moans. Clips of me and Maya tangled up on a bed, skin against skin, her voice breathy and mine low and filthy. Someone had posted them — multiple angles, multiple moments. The caption read: “The hockey captain and his stepsister… caught on camera. #Scandal #KingstonExposed.” “No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

"Get ready to face my wrath" __ "My name is Diana Millburn. I'm an artist from the Stardust company, a model many of you know. I am known for my scandals, almost all my fans hates me for it, hurling hateful names to my face. The truth is my brother was framed with drug during his highschool days. His case was pled with but the school insisted on sending him away. It was something I can't allow seeing how far I had sponsored my brother after our parent's death.

“You’ve done that before, and I’m hoping this whiskey will keep an old anger in check.” Leaning back, she crossed her legs. “You want to know a secret?” I blinked at her aloofly, not interested in whatever it is she wants to make known. “You do not seem interested, but I’ll make it known, so you wouldn’t repeat the same mistake. That slap didn’t make me angry or push me away, if anything, it turned me on.” This bitch is crazy. “I love being submissive to a sadist, so I’m used to the pain.” She opened the file and signed on it, sealing the deal with S.H. “You want to know another secret?” She pushed the file towards me.

Our Secret: My Dirty Tale is a compilation of short erotic stories intended for a MATURE AUDIENCE. Please note that ALL characters in these stories are above the age of consent. I would give a trigger warning, but there are wayyy too many. What to expect? Every kink possible. Every sexual pairing possible. Leave your morals behind, grab a toy or two. God knows you'll need a helping hand 😉*wink* Happy-horny reading! Xo, Athena♡

he replied. ... Maurice discreetly released excerpts from my diary and glimpses of my life abroad, anonymously suggesting that Gail Maddox was still alive, guiding public attention toward the gallery fire. At the opportune moment, I leaked audio evidence of Dustin bribing piano competition judges and irrefutable proof of Valerie poisoning my meals. The façade of their "perfect couple" persona shattered, their reputations crumbling under the weight of public scrutiny. Now only Nathan remained standing. I drove my brush across the canvas, slashing a bold, jagged X.

His style was no blitzkrieg; it was a siege, a slow draining of the fortress of its credibility. The dam did break the next week. Not in a business magazine, but on an international syndicated celebrity gossip website, the kind brokered in seedy headlines and grainy photos. The title was like a sledgehammer: BILLIONAIRE'S SHADOW: THE MYSTERIOUS MAN BY JOE BRIAN'S SIDE.

she asked. “Looking for ghosts,” I said. She smiled like she’d heard stranger things. “Ghosts are in microfilm, third floor.” Hours disappeared into the hum of machines. The screen glowed an antiseptic blue, the words sliding by like ghosts under glass. I scrolled through years of nightlife columns and permit notices, my fingers numb from the cold metal knobs. Then I saw it. A name I knew too well. Adrian Merritt, media consultant, removed from partnership in private arts collective following ethical dispute.

He lifted the phone. “You need to see this.” She walked toward him, heart tightening, The screen lit up with a trending article, bold letters screaming, “Billionaire Damian Stone’s Wife Exposed, Gold-Digging Single Mother Caught at Hospital!” Arielle blinked. “What?” she whispered. she scrolled, More articles, More headlines. “Who Is Arielle Lawson? Mystery Woman & Mother of a Sick Child” “Rumor: Marriage for Money? Photos Leak of Damian’s Wife Caring for Her Child in Public Hospital”

The way you fucked me against the window… I’m sore in the best way. **Ryan:** You’re addictive. Can’t wait to taste you again tomorrow. Lila’s out of town till Thursday. Lila read every single message. Dozens of them. She saw photos, Ryan’s hand between another woman’s thighs, Mia’s full lips wrapped around him, videos she couldn’t bring herself to play but whose thumbnails burned into her mind. Over a year. More than a year of lies while she planned their future, supported his risky investments, and waited patiently for the man she married to come back to her.

I whispered, shoving the door open and pulling Sophie into the dark living room. I locked the door behind us, sliding the heavy security bolt into place with a loud click. The apartment smelled exactly like it had last night cold, stale, with the faint scent of the tea I never finished. The brown manila envelope filled with Sophie’s fake papers was still sitting right there on the kitchen counter, looking completely useless now. I went straight to the small desk in the corner, dropping my canvas backpack onto the floor. I pulled the dead audio recorder out of my pocket and set it on the wood.