Lyrics Payphone

“I…” He cut himself off, hesitating, before trying again. The words he pushed out of his lips, shy but sure, surprised me. “I want to fuck you for a change.” My eyes widened, stunned. What? “I want to know if you cum from a cock in your ass,” he continued softly. If he knew who I was under this mask— Slight unease settled in my chest, but I already knew I would do it. I needed money… and the thought of sex with Aaron, in this way it was offered, was… scintillating. A new guilty pleasure. — There’s a pecking order at William-Alfie High School and Jack is at the top of it. But he shouldn’t. Because that pyramid is strictly held up by money, and over the summer Jack’s parents have gone bankrupt. They’ve managed to keep it a secret, but Jack has to work at a sex club to make enough to keep up the illusion at school. When Aaron Smithy, a usual pushover, stands up to him in the cafeteria, Jack is afraid word has started to spread especially after he puts Jack in his place and he still retaliates by giving him food poisoning. Except he didn’t. Aaron’s bravado ended in the cafeteria. But Jack keeps coming at him so he has no choice but to defend himself, even as he has bigger fish to fry as he slowly falls in love with a sex worker who has refused to show his face. By the end of the school year, their relationship has morphed into a tangled web of complexity that leaves Jack alone, naked and in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons. Will Aaron come to his rescue? Or will the newly-fallen shining star implode under it all?

“You can call me when you’re lonely. I’ll be your temporary fix.” Those were the words that he said to me and it was plain simple, he wanted nothing but sex and I wanted nothing more than too. I was the kind of girl who was too scared of falling in love again because I feel like there is something more in life than being mournful over a guy who never actually gave a hell. I deserve something more than pain and misery over a stupid heartbreak. Since then, I got too scared of commitment that I no longer wanted to be in one. I wanted fun and I wanted to feel like I am alive again. He was the kind of guy who was too busy for permanent relationships. The superstar that all women wanted to bang with. The kind of guy who would have any girls kneel down in front of him because well, he is that kind of guy. He was a guy with a hectic schedule, sold out world tours, drinking champagne in private jets, holding a mic in one hand and conquering all over the world on the other. Maybe I needed someone to show me how to live again and he needed someone to show him how to love.

“You paid me to fuck you raw, Lilah. Now you’re carrying my baby… and I’m nowhere near done with you.” Lilah Moreau wanted revenge. After catching her politician fiancé balls-deep in another woman on the night of their engagement party, she did the one thing guaranteed to destroy her “perfect fiancée” image. She hired the most expensive, most sinful callboy in the city. No names. No strings. Just one night of filthy, no-limits sex. The man who showed up was pure sin — tall, tattooed, brutally dominant, and dangerously skilled. He fucked her like he owned her. He made her scream, beg, and come harder than she ever had in her life. By morning, she left ten thousand dollars on the nightstand and disappeared without a trace. Four months later… she’s pregnant. And the callboy is back. Except he isn’t a callboy at all. He’s Damien Vale — ruthless billionaire, CEO of Vale Capital, and a man who never forgets what belongs to him. Now he’s standing in her living room, eyes dark with raw possession, one large hand possessively rubbing over her slightly swollen belly. “You ran from me once, little wife,” he murmurs, voice low and filthy. “Paid me like a whore and thought you could hide my child from me. Cute.” He leans in, lips brushing her ear: “Time to pay up properly… with this sweet pregnant pussy, every single night.

The Phone Sex Worker follows a young woman whose life leads her into working as an anonymous phone sex operator. Determined to keep her identity hidden, she believes she can separate her work from her personal life. But when she develops an unexpected connection with one of her callers, the boundaries between professional and personal begin to disappear. As secrets, emotional baggage, and real-world relationships collide, she must decide whether love can survive when it begins with lies and anonymity.

Natasha Orlova, was the only surviving relative, and daughter of a Moscow streetwalker. Though she grew up in poverty, she was full of ambition. At eighteen, she left Russia and her mother, whom she regarded as a failure, to the golden land of opportunity, America. Like many other young girls migrating to the United States, she dived into the adult industry in search of a living. Her breakthrough in the adult industry came two years later; when an American businessman took enough interest in her to marry her. He was a man involved in a deathly lethal game of crime, but it was all good; for she loved him, and he had money, and money was one thing that was essential to her life. But soon; the tides were to change. Tides, which would eventually force the confession from her,“Money Ain't Loyal." A hard-boiled Crime Thriller by Daniel Junior.

From the time I could count coins, my parents hammered one lesson home—if a boy did not start saving young, he would never have enough to win himself a wife. They opened a bank account in my name, vowing that money would only ever flow in, never out. And so, every birthday bill and crumpled allowance found a home in that card. I kept funneling every hard-earned paycheck into that same old account even after I moved to the city to chase my own future. At that point, that habit was done more out of reflex than reason. However, I was blindsided by acute kidney failure after years of working myself to the bone. Suddenly, that money was not just savings—it was my lifeline. My dad's voice trembled on the phone. He claimed he had forgotten the password and urged me to just take out an online loan for now. I hauled myself to the bank, my feet still shaky from my dialysis treatment. I clutched my ID, determined to file a loss report and reset the password myself. The teller's words froze me in place. "Sir, this account was emptied six months ago." Panic surged through me. I demanded a full printout of every transaction. The statement of the most recent transfer glared up at me from the paper, stating, "Wedding fund for our precious daughter, Natalia Callahan, plus the down payment for her luxury car."