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 6
MARCUS' POV
It was five minutes before I clocked out of the hospital, and I was still at my desk, all thoughts on Anna.
Another man's wife.
The kiss we had in the parking lot was so reckless, and we'd almost been caught by Tom.
Turns out the idiot stepped on gum and was screaming like a fucking banshee.
So pathetic.
I couldn't stop thinking of her. All through that dinner, her nipples were poking through that sheer material. It took a lot of self-control for me not to yank her dress down, pull her onto the table, rip her panties off and shove my heavy cock into her.
Every woman I fucked since that night at the bar paled in comparison to her. The way she moaned like a whore, her pussy tightening around me like she wanted to rip my cock off.
Fuck!
She looked so good on the table at that first physical exam. Her fat tits getting fondled, and her cunt dripping and swollen with my fingers digging into it.
But she was married, I told myself.
God. I wanted to fuck her that day. Ram my pole in her tight pink pussy until she squirts all over me.
If only she knew her darling husband was a cheat too. Seeing as he picked up random girls from a hotel when we went out.
But I didn't want to be that guy who broke up someone else's marriage.
A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts.
Who was that? I thought everyone had already gone home.
Before I could answer, the door opened.
My breath caught in my throat.
Anna.
She just walked straight to me. What was she wearing?
Everything was practically hanging out. Her heavy tits were visible in the sheer short gown she wore.
Her heels clicked in the quiet office as she stood by my chair.
My shaft twitched, already leaking as her floral scent filled my nose.
"Anna....what...." I started, but she cut me off.
"Please shut up." She whispered.
She reached down, grabbed my tie, and yanked me up. Her hungry mouth crashed onto mine, desperate.
Fuck it.
I grabbed her by the waist, pushing the papers off my desk to the floor, and placed her on it.
She gasped, but didn't put up a fight. Yanking her dress up, exposing her fat cunt trapped in a lacy panty.
The panties were so thin that they were between her pink pussy lips, which were soaked.
"You came here to get fucked, didn't you?" I growled in her ear.
"Yes, Marcus. I was rubbing my pussy, imagining it was you, but I couldn't cum. She moaned. "Please, fuck me."
I ripped the useless string material to the side. Her pubes were neatly shaved in a triangular way, leading to her fat snatch.
I rubbed her clit, which was jutting out from her slick folds. She yelped, pushing her pussy out for more.
"You're such a dirty whore." I said, rubbing my rough fingers through her slick folds. "Coming to your doctor's office to get your married snatch stuffed."
She whimpered, pulling her knees to her ears. Her heels are still on.
This woman is messing with my brain.
"I can't stop thinking about your huge fuck tool." She moaned, pushing her pussy out to me.
I unzipped my pants, pulling out my fat, veiny cock. Holding her thighs, I slapped my cock on her swollen cunt.
Wet sounds filled the office as she moaned like the slut she was.
"Fuck.. Dr Hale. You're huge." Anna whimpered, body shaking.
Rubbing my cock head on her clit, I yanked her gown up further. Her huge knockers are spilling out.
I want to see them flop around while I fuck her hard.
Positioning my cock, I slammed into her hard and deep. She cried out, manicured hands gripping the edge of my desk.
"Fuck, you're so tight," I groaned. " Still so fucking tight after all this time."
"Ummm...fuck." She moaned.
I started pounding her cunt, making sure my cock rubbed her walls.
I fucked her fast and hard. Her pussy was making queefing sounds as I hammered away.
Her juicy tits were bouncing around, her pink nipples erect. I pinched one nipple roughly while I fucked her deeper.
"Marcus....you're fucking my cunt so good." She whimpered, tears pouring down her face.
"Tell me whose pussy this is," I demanded, yanking her hair down to stare at my dick going in and out of her cunt.
"Yours," she gasped. "It's yours, Marcus. Only yours."
I slapped her face hard, squeezing her neck.
"Say it louder. Say how good I make you feel."
"It's yours! Fuck! You're rubbing my insides so good."
I removed my hand from her neck, rubbing her swollen clit with rough circles.
She screamed, her body shaking, pussy spasming on my cock.
She was close.
"You're not going to cum yet," I growled, pulling out my wet cock. Her pussy was gaping and red.
I pushed her legs up higher, rubbing my fat cock head on her pussy.
She whined, pushing her pussy up to me.
"Please, Marcus. I need you my cunt." she cried.
I shoved back in slowly, watching my fat cock disappear inside her.
"Fuck! You have a greedy cunt." I said, my voice rough. "You love being fucked like a whore, don't you?"
"Yes....Yes..." she shrieked. Tears of pleasure fell from her eyes.
I fucked her harder, hips slamming against her, my balls slamming her puckered asshole.
I leaned down, sucking a fat nipple into my mouth, biting the nub hard enough to make her arch.
She came hard, her pussy clamping down on my cock like a vice. She screamed, her body convulsing.
I didn't stop.
I kept pounding her through her orgasm.
"It's too much, Marcus. I can't...." She begged.
"You can." I snarled. "You're gonna take it."
Her second orgasm hit again. She sobbed, her nails digging into my back as her cunt fluttered and creamed around me.
Thick ropes of my cum shot inside her. I groaned, slamming inside her.
A few seconds passed before I pulled out. My cum leaked from her swollen pussy, dripping onto my desk.
She lay there, legs trembling as her desk bunched around her waist.
Tits still out, her face flushed.
I leaned down, kissing her softly as I rubbed her sensitive pussy slowly.
"You okay?" I asked as I pulled my mouth away.
She nodded, still dazed. "Better than okay."
I helped her sit up, as I had fixed her dress as best I could.
"Next time," I whispered. "I want to suck on your pussy, then you'll ride me."
She shivered. "Promise?"
I smirked as I kissed her cheek. "I promise."
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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.