Hustler Novels & Stories

His eyes remained on me for more than a minute while I gave a cold smile in return. I was finally standing in front of him. I took out her hand for a handshake and without further ado, he took his hand out and gave me a handshake. “Shekinah Usher ” I introduced myself He smiled and did the same, my handshake firm and professional. “Adrian Alero ” “ Please have your seat” he said, sending a signal to the waiter. A little too nice I felt Adrian was for a man that was fuming with annoyance a few seconds ag

he said, his face flushed with anger. ”Are you jealous?” I asked with a little laugh, my voice low to block someone from hearing us. He aggressively turned me to face the wall and bent me over. “Ethan, please not here,” I said, but he didn't listen. He raised my skirt above my waist and pulled my pants halfway down my thigh. He slid something that looks like a hearing aid into my pussy. “You better not pull it out, you have to come begging.” he said with a grin placed on his face and exited the convenience room.

the bartender said. He held her gaze with a pasted-on smile. "Just some seltzer, please." She would need to be sharp for whatever the men behind her were planning. She could go back to her room, but she was expecting at least one of the other women to show up to her. They chose to stick together and she wasn't ditching anyone. Leave no woman behind. "She's too stuck up. She didn't even ask to sit with us." The bartender slid her drink to her and then rolled his eyes. "We have all sorts of conventions in here and all sorts of people blowing off steam." He motioned to the table behind her. "The gamers are the worst. It's like someone let them out of a cage."

Two can play this game. I balled my fists, swallowed my frustration, and pushed open the door to the motel’s dingy lobby. The stale air hit me first—cigarette smoke mixed with old carpet and something faintly metallic. Behind the counter, a woman barely looked up from her phone. Her name tag was scratched and faded, her uniform wrinkled and a little too tight. “Welcome to…” She waved a hand vaguely in the air, not bothering to finish her greeting. “What do you want?” Her voice was flat, disinterested.

“You want some of this? You want to see what this big, hard pecker can do? It’ll make you feel real good, way better than that little loser boyfriend of yours. You know where to find me if you want your back blown out. By the way, I specialize in pussy-eating.” He zipped his cock back into his pants and helped me to the car. He helped himself to another handful of my ass as I bent over to get in the back seat. He closed the door behind me and winked. My mother’s instincts regarding Dr. Sterling were accurate. He was a dirtball womanizer. Fortunately, that womanizer was on the hunt just like me

From force. Controlled force. Not messy. Professional. His stomach tightened. “Too clean,” he said under his breath. That wasn’t random. That wasn’t street-level chaos. That was planned movement. He exhaled slowly through his nose. Then pulled out a second phone. Not the one Keisha knew about. Not the personal one. This one was different. He stared at it for a second before unlocking it. One contact. No name. Just a symbol. He hesitated. Then hit call.

someone in the crowd murmured in astonishment. “Euphoria Lounge is the most exclusive entertainment venue in Hattan. I heard it’s backed by one of the city’s top families! This whole place is their turf. No one dares to mess around here. That guy is so arrogant! He must have a death wish!” People whispered and cast skeptical glances at Dustin while shaking their heads. He did not look like someone important. If anything, his disheveled appearance made him seem down on his luck. What kind of idiot would pick a fight at Euphoria Lounge?

I roared. “Don, I will seek another hustler then.” He nodded, sitting down. “I heard a big fish just arrived in the casino. What about I chip in? It's been so long since I last played. I missed that.” He mumbled, making sure I heard him. “I don't have time to play games today.” I shook my head vigorously. “C'mon, I will make sure you win.” He persuaded me confidently, and I knew he was joking. Lycus was once a hustler, and he always wins regardless of the pool or territory. He was fed.

“But my job is to keep you alive. Mr. Prissy Pants is just a close second. So if you get a gun pointed at you, yeah, let the big bastard get between you and a bullet.” She grinned and I felt the tension ease. “‘Mr. Prissy Pants’?” “My name is Will,” I muttered, glaring at Hoot in the rearview mirror. “I know. William Masterson the Third. Like that ain’t the most prissy pants name on the planet,” Hoot snorted. “It is kind of prissy,” she agreed.