Hustler Novels & Stories

" I take what Kanye says into serious consideration because everything that he said was the truth. Not many of us have real friends that you'll ride with to the end, not me atleast. I have no friends, the only people I have ever considered a true friend are mass murderers and I'm currently on my way to snitch on them so I guess I'm not a real friend either. My concentration broke as a black suv pulled up beside me. I tried to keep a blank face and not turn around, acting as though I was too tuned into my music to notice them.

I guess he was very considerate, waiting for me. As I get back into his car, after sending the money, he waits for me impatiently. “This is the most absurd thing I have ever seen in a prostitute.” Damn idiot! “I already told you that I'm not a prostitute, stop calling me that!” I told him very angry. “I don't think so.” He tells me driving back to the city. “A slut is a slut, you can't deny what you are.” I wanted to beat him up like he was a fighter, but he had already paid me a large sum of money. , I couldn't say no.

She was a random call girl he brought to an hotel last night to satisfy his sexual urge, he knew better than to take her to his multi billionaire mansion, ofcourse his nosy mother would pester the life out of him, for sleeping with a call girl. Gently the lady pulled the towel off her hair and his eyes trailed down her thick, long black hair that descended down her shoulders. She was different, different from other call girls he had ever being with, not like he had been with more than one though but she still felt different, everything about her was different, it felt weird but the night they spent together was the most blissful he ever had. Harold Houston was a renowned business man, he was

He said winking at me "I see, so who is the top in the relationship?" Malcolm asked smirking at me "Nathan is. At first we were in the switch but I decided that being a top wasn't for many and I love being a bottom" I said smirking back "Oh, because most guys are ashamed. Being a bottom is amazing but most wouldn't understand the pleasure we get out of it. They see it as a lower stage of homosexual and they think we're actual pussies" Malcolm said to me

His whole attitude just pissed me off. ​My jaw tightened, the insult landing like a slap. I sat up straight, glaring at him. "I am not a prostitute. And I'm not interested in whatever offer you're making. So why don't you do us both a favor and walk away?" ​The stranger didn't take my rejection in good faith. In fact, his smile vanished, replaced by an ugly, mocking sneer. He laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Oh, please. What are you even feeling like? You claim not to be a prostitute, yet here you are, hanging around a man who’s notorious for never sleeping with one woman twice. Do you seriously think you're special? Darius is probably in another part of this hotel right now, hooking up wit

“She actually reminds me of you.” Sasha scoffed. “And that amused the hell out of you?” “Yeah. You know I’m someone who isn’t impressed so easily.” He leaned back in his chair, resting an elbow on the armrest. “Besides, you have to admit, she’s interesting. Aspiring actress. Rising content creator. A waitress—” “You forgot to mention she also works as an escort,” Sasha cut in, flipping a page in the file. “And look, she’s a regular of Mr. Xi Lee. Wasn’t he the Chinese business tycoon who invested in your casino two years ago?”

Reina: Do you know any thing he owned, ladies he was involved with, business associates anything? Marco: yes he owns a club, a lady name Rose was his slut and also was involved with Nico from the stingers for a business for which I think you handled. Reina: why did you not tell me this earlier. Marco: it slipped my mind. The name of his club is red death.

He grinned at her in a way she could only describe as predatory. "Who are you?" Liv tried to stand, but was still unable to make it to her feet. Her head swam from the blow to her head. "Come now, beauty. Let me help you." The strange man lifted her by the armpits and walked her to a fur covered chair near a table. "I am Killian O'Mara of the Blackfoot Pack," he said with the slightest Irish lilt to his voice. He gave her a courtly little bow before sitting in the chair across the table from her.

I opened my mouth to argue, but he added, "You can see her tomorrow." The words felt like a weight lifting. "Alright," I said. Without another word he walked to the bed and casually lay down, face to the ceiling, his back to the room. He shut his eyes and let out a long, lazy breath. Is he serious? A gentleman might have taken the couch and allowed me the bed, given that this was a contract marriage. But of course he wasn’t a gentleman. He was Alpha Vladimir of the Mancini Pack, terrifying, possessive, and impossibly sure of himself.

Lula spread my cheeks, spat on my asshole. Dax didn’t wait (lined up and slammed into my pussy once, then pulled out and took my ass, no prep, just spit and cum). “Count the money,” he growled. “Every thrust ten grand.” I screamed, clawed paint, took it. “Fifty… sixty… fuck, Dax, harder—” Lula slid under me on the hood, legs open, cunt in my face. I ate her like I was dying while Dax wrecked my ass, hands bruising my hips, cock splitting me.