Novelas y relatos de Gigolo

Then he immediately left because he already knew Alexa's workplace. "Who drove you earlier Alexa, is your new lover?" asked Nori while embracing Alexa ready to gossip. “No he just loved one night I was drunk knowing Hazel was getting married. He is a gigolo kept by my aunts,” replied Alexa while putting her bag down. Nori thought long and hard, a gigolo wearing a limited edition luxury car. Even though it's a mistress, rich aunts are unlikely to give something as luxurious as that. Maybe Alexa is an innocent girl who doesn't know who her one night partner really is.

She simply let him hold her. After a long time, he seemed to be coming to grips with the brutal truth. Leaning into her ears, he asked softly, “Tell me. Who is he?” “He’s a gigolo! You won’t be able to find him! I gave him five million dollars and told him to go back to his hometown.” …

It was too fucking salacious. My quick conclusion is, maybe he's just pretending to be gay to win a girl's trust. And when they get vulnerable and put off their guard in front of him. Ta-dah! Fucking big revelation time! You just never know. "Let that fucking she-wolf get into my tent right now." I said impatiently, "You go and figure out something else to keep that fucking gigolo occupied. He's into horses. Take him to do a tour in my stable and pet some fucking horses. But make sure he stays away from Torrent. He gets nervous when he's near clowns and intends to kick them very hard at their loins."

“I mean, Mr. Dmitri, the billionaire C.E.O. from Leonine City, the one you’ve had s*x with a while ago… He said he’ll come back and have another night with you.” While he was saying those words, he was laughing in an eccentric way. Sir Atlas was drunk, it was too obvious due to the redness over his face all through his neck. “That’s all?” I asked, uninterested. He giggled and shook his head. “Aren’t you happy that he liked your body and your performance, Gia?” he questioned. “What’s new?” I replied. “All men wanted nothing but gratify themselves through women.” Once again, he laughed out loud. Making the throng of people look at him, smiling. “Well… Aren’t you made for this?” he mockingly bl

Evelyn teased back. "Ridiculous! My husband is far more handsome than any of them. Why would I fall for them?" Mara defended, feeling a hint of embarrassment. "Feeling oppressed because you're now married?" Evelyn teased further. "Get yourself married first. Let's focus on business. The woman said she'd pay hundred dollars so let's get to work" Mara redirected the conversations. They ordered the said guy that they came for, and asked him to take them to his room, he declined at first, Because ladies that come to gigolo houses are mainly older women.

I smiled proudly, loving the look of fear on his fucking face. “Right now, I have two options for you to choose from. One, you go over to my mom's room and you take a glass of wine from her bedside table and gulp it down as if your life depended on it. My mom and two ladies are there in that room. I need you to have fun with them the same way you were supposed to have fun and party with my wife, Victoria.” I told him fiercely. “What do you want me to do, sir, are you asking me to screw your mother?” The Gigolo asked me sounding sorry and ashamed.

Was he… angry? “We are leaving.” I frowned immediately. “I’m not.” “You are.” “You’re becoming strangely controlling for a man who isn’t my husband.” His jaw visibly clenched at that. “Gemma.” “No. I haven’t even kissed my gigolo goodbye.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “My what?” “The handsome man from earlier.” “That wasn’t a gigolo.” “You don’t know that.” “Trust me, I do.” “Were you trained to identify gigolos?” He stared at me for several seconds before shaking his head as though he had suddenly realized arguing with a drunk woman required qualifications he simply didn’t possess.

I'd made good money from being a gigolo. Great money. My penthouse was a gift from a former client, paid up front and in cash. But up until three months ago, I'd never made one good financial decision. I'd burned through money like it was fucking s'mores. Fast cars, designer clothes, and private charters. So when I abruptly retired after a client tried to cop a feel-no, not cop a feel: sexually assaulted me-my cash began dwindling at astonishing rates.

’ I thought, crazily in my head, as I screamed for more. “Slut! I'm a slut! ” He spanked me so hard. “Can I show you more? ” he asked, climaxing on my pussy again. Staining my thighs. “Show me more, and I will double your pay. What do you say?” I asked; seeing his eyes beam with a smile made me smirk evilly. I found a perfect gigolo. I planned to keep him even after marrying Darius. I can't afford to lose a gift like him. “We have all night!”

“So… consider this a tip for a job well done. Goodbye.” His brows furrowed. “Wait—what?” I forced a smirk, masking the awkward knot in my stomach. “You don’t have to be shy about it. Even call girls don’t usually admit what they do, so there’s no need to be ashamed.” For a moment, he just stared at me. Then his expression shifted — disbelief, irritation, and something darker flickering behind his eyes. “You think I’m a gigolo?” he asked slowly, his voice low and dangerous now.