Hustler Letters Novels & Stories

was clean, flawless. As for the content, it was short to the point of being a blatant cover-up, containing just one sentence. > *Don't come back. I am under house arrest. Negotiating.* --- I let out a cold laugh and pulled the crumpled, real letter from my inner jacket pocket, spreading it flat on the cold operating console, side-by-side with the fake one on the screen.

“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you… I might even let this pass.” Hope flared in my chest. “Only on one condition,” he added. “One condition,” I repeated breathlessly. “I’ll do anything.” His grin widened, slow and predatory. “Show me your pussy.” The words landed like a whip crack in the silent room. I stared at him in disbelief. “S-Sir… you can’t be serious.” “Oh, I’m very serious, girl.” The dark amusement in his voice made my stomach twist. “Unless you’d prefer the other option — being thrown out onto the streets tonight, with a reputation that ensures no respectable house will ever hire a cock-hungry little slut like you again.”

The letter is not really, really long, but it goes thus: ***I see you, friend. I see everything you're doing. Don't think you can hide forever. You think I haven't noticed the heated discussions between you and your sister's husband, the hidden encounters you've been getting yourself entangled with. I saw how it happened, how it happened at the club, when the both of you had the most pleasurable, intense night of all. Don't think you can hide forever, because I see you, and I know you. And if you don't do as I say, then you are going to hell, and you're going to regret every single action you have committed. Wait on for further instructions, probably in the next two days, next one week, or m

“I'm glad it ain't one of his nephews.” Luxe stares at me like I've lost my mind. " Girl! Those men are…" she lets out a long whistle. “I'd give anything for one of them to fuck me. I'm damn sure it's gonna be an experience to remember." I laugh. Luxe is one hell of a crazy girl. I sit up and stare at her. “I got this letter, while in the bathroom and I'm pretty sure it's Lucas." " Isn't he supposed to be in jail?”

It was the asshole who filmed that last video with my mate, the very top of the flier saying ‘LADIES NIGHT’ in bold print. Taking the paper, I brought it back to Lee and Jackson, shoving it in their faces. “This guy. Find him, then comb the area and figure out what the hell happened here. A homeless man, a streetwalker, I don’t care if it’s a fucking rat; someone saw what happened. Find out and find this asshole.” “Alpha,” Jackson looked at the flier and then at the destroyed building. “Is….is she even worth it? She was working as a porn star for-”

Now. Leon stared at the words until they blurred. Heat surged up his neck, a twisted mix of fury and forbidden thrill. His cock still throbbed in his loosened trousers from the writing session. He hated how his body responded to the command. “No,” he muttered under his breath, even as his thumb hovered. “Fuck you. I’m not your personal whore.” Anonymous: You already are. Don’t pretend you’re not still hard thinking about it. Send them or the letter to your father finishes sending.

Aunt Lou opened it, revealing several old letters, their edges yellowed with age. “These were in the same box as the photo albums that Madam Victoria told me to give you the other day, it would seem that she doesn’t remember it anymore because her real memories just came by for a moment,” she explained. “And I thought you might find them... enlightening.” I picked up one of the letters, my heart pounding as I read the familiar handwriting. It was Justin’s. The first letter was dated nearly a decade ago. Justin had written to Grandma Victoria, apologizing for his mistakes and expressing regret for the pain he’d caused. But what struck me most was a cryptic line near the end:

She frowned her eyebrows and started wondering what was inside the mysterious letter. Lusiana took the letter. She opened it and found some photos plus a message written on a paper. There was still no explanation about the identity of the sender. Lusiana tried to read the message first. From the content of the message, she learned that Vincent has been doing a secret business regarding the drugs import and selling. She looked at some of the pictures added there.

And yet he ran through the trap that easy. “Wrong. It was Sanya Brown. Dude, How can you forget that?! You had a four-year relationship!” Well, His answer is wrong but I also lied because Xihizo— is gay. His first love was actually George Mckenny. “That means chug!!” “Alright, alright take it easy okay? My question then— What makes you aroused?” “When someone doesn’t ask too many questions and will just go with it.” “Is that so? Then should I?”

"The letter was written by his brother, Alpha Luka. Now, not only did Gerald dare to steal it from my private mailbox, but he also told the guard his identity is classified information, and even I don't have the right to know who took it if questions were asked. Let's remember that young Alpha Luka is an old friend of mine, and if anyone, I know his handwriting and writing style. The letter that was brought to me by Gerald is written in Gerald's chicken leg handwriting, no offence, Amorello." And again, everyone stares between Gerald and me, almost as confused as I was just minutes ago while I sat in the office. The old Amorello tries to jump in defence of his relative when I raise my hand a