SCANDALOUS AFFAIRS (AN EXTRA SPICY EROTICA COLLECTION)
WARNING ⚠️: EXPLICIT CONTENT UP AHEAD. ONLY SUITABLE FOR READERS ABOVE THE AGE OF 18.
Scandalous Affairs brings together sensual short stories filled with tension, longing, and undeniable chemistry. From slow-burning connections to intense encounters, each tale explores what happens when desire takes control.
Forbidden touches. Broken vows. Power that bends to raw need.
Lust wins. Every filthy time.
Some affairs end in regret.
These affairs always end with someone begging for more.
If you want more breathtaking dirty stories, feel free to click on it.
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Chapter 3
ANNA'S POV
"Can I get a new gynaecologist?" I asked Tom the next day as we ate dinner.
He turned his head slowly to look at me, while I was trying to avoid his gaze.
"Why? You just had one session with Dr Marcus."
"I would prefer a female doctor, I don't just feel comfortable with Dr Marcus." I insisted, already getting irritated.
"Well, you haven't gotten to know him enough. Besides Marcus is the best gynaecologist you could ever have."
"But...." I tried again, wanting him to see things from my perspective.
"But nothing, Anna. All you do is whine and complain every time. As I said before, you're likely the cause of us not having children." He hissed angrily.
My stomach turned at his cruel words. Not wanting to hurl insults at him, I gathered my leftover meal, trashed it, dumped the plate in the sink and headed upstairs.
The next few days were hell, he was always muttering how all his friends' wives were getting pregnant.
He had always wanted the white picket fence dream, and unfortunately, I couldn't give him that.
Tom had also formed the habit of picking fights with me. Any little thing I do, irritates him or provokes him.
It has been a week since my last session with Dr Marcus. Those inappropriate questions bored a hole in my thoughts, making my body heat even when I didn't want it to.
Marcus's card burned a hole in my purse. I couldn't bring myself to throw it away.
I should change doctors, damning the consequences from Tom, but I didn't want to.
This night, my body won over reasoning. Tom was fast asleep, snoring loudly like he wanted to bring the house down.
I grabbed my phone, took Marcus' card from my bag and headed into the bathroom.
Heart hammering as I locked the door, walked over to the edge of the tub and sat down.
My hands shook as I dialled the number on the card.
It rang first, but he didn't pick up.
At the second ring, the number connected.
"Hello, who's this?" Marcus asked in a low voice.
I cleared my throat as I answered.
"It's Anna, Anna Goldberg," I whispered, body already humming with anticipation.
"Anna" He muttered, his voice hitching a bit. "I wondered if you'd ever call."
I swallowed hard. Just wanting to go straight to the reason I called.
I think.
Why was I even calling him?
"Listen" I hissed softly. "I'm calling you to tell you again to keep your mouth shut. Tom must never find out about us. And I want to remove you as my gynaecologist, so you shouldn't tell Tom I won't be meeting you again."
The line grew quiet for a few seconds before a soft chuckle filled my ears, sending a shiver down my spine.
"Be honest Anna. Is that why you really called? In the middle of the night?"
"Yes", I confirmed with a shaky voice. My bravado from earlier is fading away.
"Well, relax Anna. Your secret's safe with me. But you sound stressed. You need to unwind a little."
I should have hung up right there, but I didn't.
I stayed silent, as I waited for his next words.
His voice dropped lower and commanding. " Tell me where you are right now."
"In the bathroom," I replied, my breath coming out in pants. "Tom's already asleep."
I didn't even know why I added that information.
"Is the door locked?"
"Yes, it's locked."
"Perfect. Now, slide your fingers under your nightwear. Tell me how it feels."
My eyes widened. "But, Marcus....."
"Do it, Anna. You need to relieve stress. It isn't good for women who want to get pregnant."
I hesitated a bit, then obeyed his command.
My palm trailed my smooth creamy thigh, the fabric of my sheer nightgown bunching up.
"I...I'm touching my thigh. It feels tickly."
"Move your fingers higher." He ordered. "Feel how warm you are. Are your panties wet, Anna?"
A gasp escaped me as I brushed my fingers on my slick thong. My palm is rubbing my covered crotch.
I was soaked.
Just by his voice ordering me around.
"Yes, they're so wet, Marcus." I moaned quietly as I rubbed my covered pussy harder.
"Tell me how wet you are."
"Fuck, Marcus. I'm drenched, my thong is sticking to my pussy because of how slick I am."
"Good girl, you're doing great. Now, push your thong aside. Let air touch your pussy. Circle your swollen clit slowly. How does it feel?"
My head fell back against the tiled wall as I did as he instructed. My fingers circled my swollen clit, rubbing my sensitive folds as I gushed slick.
My pussy throbbed so good as I pinched my clit, making my hips twitch wildly.
"It's aching, Marcus. My clit is jutting out of my folds. I need more." I whimpered.
"Rub your clit faster" He said, his breathing heavier. I could hear the rustle of sheets and the slick sound of a hand.
Fuck.
He was jerking off to the sound of me rubbing my pussy.
"Slide one finger in your pussy. Fuck, Anna, you'll feel so tight wrapped around my cock."
I pushed a finger in, moaning at the intrusion. "It's so tight and hot. It's clenching around my finger."
"Add another finger. Stretch your pussy like I did that night."
I quickly added another finger, body thrumming with arousal. My cunt walls gripped them greedily.
"It's not enough." I whimpered desperately. " I remember how you stretched me so good that night. Your thick cock was pumping hard in and out of my pussy."
" Pull your fingers out and rub your clit faster. You're dripping for me, aren't you?"
"Yes, I'm soaking up my fingers with cunt juice." I moaned, pleasure coiling tight in my belly.
"Fuck! I'm about to cum. Come for me, Anna. Moan my name as you do."
I rubbed harder on my clit, pressing the swollen gland as waves came crashing over me.
"Marcus." I moaned, biting my lips to stay silent as my pussy spammed on my fingers.
He groaned loudly at the other end. The sound of his release made my body shiver.
We breathed heavily on the phone for a few minutes.
Reality quickly settled in as the lusty haze wore off.
What have I done?
"I.....I have to go." I stammered, putting my underwear in place as I washed my hands.
"Anna..."
I hung up quickly, going into the bedroom as I crept into bed sliding under the covers.
I cheated on Tom again.
But even as the guilt overwhelmed me, lust stirred deeper.
Longing too, something I hadn't felt in years.
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7.3
I borrowed my wealthy best friend's identity to seduce Colonel Ethan Christensen. He was the powerful uncle of my ex-boyfriend, Kayden, who had brutally dumped me for a rich heiress.
My revenge plan worked too well. Ethan fell deeply in love with my fake persona and proposed. But then he handed me a thick envelope: a top-secret military background check requiring fingerprints and ten years of history.
My fake identity was about to be shattered. I faced federal fraud charges and prison time. More than that, the guilt was eating me alive. Ethan wasn't a pawn; he was a genuinely honorable man who promised to protect me. Terrified and exhausted by the lies, I typed out a full confession, ready to tell him everything and walk away.
But right before I hit send, Kayden's new fiancée called to gloat about their engagement. Through the phone, I heard Kayden's voice, lazily mocking my low status.
"Tell her to stay home. Tell her to find someone on her own level in the gutter."
The rage burned away all my guilt. Why should I be the bigger person while they destroyed my life without a second thought?
I deleted the confession and called my friend to hire a black-market hacker. I needed a flawless, forged background in forty-eight hours. I am going to marry Ethan Christensen, and I am going to smile when Kayden is forced to call me "Aunt."
8.0
Finley's stepfather gave her a sickening ultimatum: marry her predatory stepbrother Shane tonight, or he would throw her fragile mother out on the street.
To escape this hell, she used a matchmaking agency and hastily married a complete stranger. Garrison Strickland claimed to be an ordinary data analyst making $95,000 a year, driving a beat-up Honda Civic, and needing a wife in name only. They got their marriage license at City Hall that very afternoon.
But when Finley returned home to pack her bags and threw the certificate on the table, her family just laughed. Dozier ordered Shane to drag her into the bedroom to "teach her a lesson" and trap her forever.
"Come on, little sister," Shane crooned, lunging at her. "Don't fight it."
Finley's own mother just stared at the floor, blaming Finley for ruining the family, watching blindly as Shane cornered her.
Terrified and desperate, Finley smashed an ashtray over Shane's head and frantically dialed her new husband's number. Shane snatched the phone, mocking the "imaginary husband" before the line went dead. Finley felt a bottomless despair. Garrison was just a normal guy; he would never risk his life against her violent family. She was completely on her own, waiting for the end.
Suddenly, deafening bangs echoed through the house, and Garrison stepped into the living room radiating a cold, terrifying fury. This supposedly "frugal data analyst" effortlessly snapped Shane's wrist, leveled a ruthless death threat that made Dozier tremble, and whisked Finley away in a waiting Bentley. Looking at the powerful man beside her, Finley's heart raced: just who exactly had she married today?
7.2
I thought I was just marrying a middle-class commercial pilot who proposed to me in a Brooklyn cemetery to fulfill his grandmother's bizarre dying wish.
But when an arrogant pilot tried to harass me at the airport, my "ordinary" husband suddenly appeared, his eyes like chips of ice.
"Take your hand off my wife."
With that single cold command, he had the airline's top executives groveling and the man practically fired on the spot.
Everyone called him "Mr. Chandler." He handed me an exclusive black Centurion card, claiming it was just a standard "manager's perk." His retired parents, who supposedly ran a small business, visited me wearing Patek Philippe watches. I ignored all the glaring red flags, foolishly believing I had just lucked into a stable, caring marriage after a lifetime of disappointments.
Yet, despite his constant, suffocating generosity, he kept a physical wall between us. After a kiss so desperate and hungry it felt like he had been starving for it his entire life, he violently pushed me away.
"We should take this slow."
I couldn't understand why a man who looked at me with such intense, possessive devotion would treat our marriage like a sterile business deal. Why was he orchestrating every perfect detail of my life while refusing to even share a bed with me?
I had no idea that the man sleeping in the guest room wasn't a pilot at all. He was Harmon Chandler, the ruthless billionaire emperor of the Chandler Group. And he had been secretly monitoring my every move for ten years.
9.8
I reached for my fiancé's phone to silence an alarm and found a hidden folder named "The Protocol."
Inside was a spreadsheet that systematically dismantled my entire existence.
Task 399: Buy blue hydrangeas. Note: Her favorite. For Denzel.
Task 400: Schedule anniversary dinner. Note: Make sure she feels special. For Denzel.
In that heartbeat, I realized the man I had loved for three years hadn't looked at me once without seeing a chore list left by his dead brother. I wasn't Elfrieda Stewart, the woman Jaxon Tate loved. I was a legacy project.
The truth turned lethal at our engagement gala. When a massive chandelier detached from the ceiling, Jaxon didn't lunge for me.
He tackled his "ex" Janice—who I later discovered was his secret wife—to safety.
He left me standing in the center of the target to be crushed by shattering glass.
But the cruelty didn't end there. On a "reconciliation" yacht trip, Janice pushed me overboard. Jaxon looked at me struggling in the freezing black water, then threw the life preserver to her.
He saved the shark and left me to drown.
I lost everything in that water, including the unborn child I hadn't even told him about.
He thought I was dead. He thought he was free to play house with Janice.
But my brother pulled me from the darkness.
And when I resurfaced in Norway, wearing the ring of a man far more dangerous than Jaxon could ever dream of being, Jaxon realized too late that he had destroyed the only thing that could have saved him.
9.6
Daniella Harris never imagined her life would change dramatically after graduating high school.
Diego Johnstone, her forgotten stepbrother, reappears surprisingly-paying off her adoptive parents' debt and taking her away.
Unbeknownst to Daniella, Diego wanted her for himself, even if it meant going against his own family.
But their relationship was fraught with obstacles. When Daniella's family planned her marriage, Diego found himself trapped in a matchmaking situation he didn't want, and they had to decide whether to give up on fate or fight for each other.
9.5
My husband Kamden and I were the most powerful couple in New York, an unbreakable alliance of wealth and influence. To the world, we were perfect, especially with our new baby daughter, Penny, waiting for us at home.
But the illusion shattered at the Jasper Stone gala when Cason Vincent walked in. He wasn't just a rival; he was a dead ringer for Kamden—a cruel, predatory mirror image who seemed to know the secrets of the year I spent in London.
In front of the city’s elite, a socialite screamed that I was a fraud, accusing me of using Kamden as a "substitute" for the man I truly loved. The music stopped, and the room turned into a sea of judgmental whispers.
I expected my husband to shield me, but the paranoia in his eyes was sharper than any rumor. He grabbed my scarred left hand—the one I had ruined to save his life years ago—and squeezed it until I winced in pain.
"Am I just a replacement?" he hissed, his voice trembling with a terrifying insecurity. He didn't see the wife who had sacrificed her world-class piano career for him; he saw a woman who had settled for a copy.
The injustice of it felt like a physical blow. I had destroyed my body and my future to keep him safe, yet he was ready to believe a stranger’s lies over three years of marriage. He didn't want the truth; he wanted me to beg for his forgiveness for a sin I never committed.
I realized then that my silence wasn't an admission of guilt, but my last shred of dignity. I pulled my hand away and walked out of the gala alone, leaving Kamden standing face-to-face with the man who had come to dismantle our lives.