Hustler Stories Novels & Stories

It also comes at the beginning of the end and also at the ending of time? "Man, that’s a hard one.” Dusty exhaled as he tried to figure it out. “I’d lose too,” he finally said as he couldn’t figure it out. “I thought it was hard until I learned the answer. Now I’m off to date with a stranger,” Aiden grunted. “I should be getting some nookie to blow off some steam,” he rolled his eyes. "Can't you just make up an excuse, and then you can come over and have some fun like we used to? I have the number of a new escort service. Virginia's finest. I'm talking about daughters of politicians and billionaires. Rich girls with daddy issues,” Dustin giggled.

The only thing on my mind right now is fucking coffee, and I'm dying for a steaming cup with a blunt and a cigarette to match, all while sitting on the building's roof and letting the wind take me away. "I had no idea you were such an early bird." As I tiptoe past Scotty toward the kitchen, his deep, sleepy voice startles me. I come to a halt and turn to face him, leaning against the doorframe as a late rush floods my body. "Yeah, I have trouble sleeping. What's your excuse?" "I'm a hustler, Harley. I never fucking sleep. If there's money to be made, then I'm out fucking making it." He gets up from the couch, proudly flaunting his massive morning wood, which draws my attention and causes me

I wаѕ, but not fоr thе rеаѕоn they thоught. THE END Thank you for joining me on this intense journey through Lost in Lust.️ If you enjoyed this story, I invite you to explore my other novel, “Wild Pleasure”️ A very sexual erotic novel. Nuzel.

TALES OF INSTANT LUST - SHORT READS Preface Greetings, Reader Welcome to a world where passion flares up in the most unexpected places, where lust takes the stage, and where desire never waits. The concept behind "Tales of Instant Lust" was that not all love stories have to be quiet or poetic. Irresistible chemistry, unsaid tension, and raw hunger can sometimes express more than a thousand romantic words ever could. Designed for people who want their fantasies to be served quickly, hot, and unrestrained, these stories are brief, intense, and explicitly sexy.

"There's no story." "Oh, I disagree." She waves the polaroid in my face. The image had developed now—Simone's face half-hidden, but my profile is clear. "Damien Adams, tech philanthropist, fucks a stripper raw in a strip club. He calls himself daddy and begs her to cum." She tilts her head. "Your shareholders would love that." I remained unfazed. "This is illegal, whatever you publish would be taken down." "Who said anything about publishing?" She steps back, tucks the Polaroid into her tiny clutch purse. "You know where to find me."

He drove back in while I was suspended in the air, his cock hitting my cervix with a force that made my vision blur. He didn't stop. He kept moving, the change in angle sending him even deeper into my core. He walked me out of the kitchen and toward the grand staircase, every heavy step sending him deeper into my pussy. The stairs were a blur of motion and friction, his boots thudding on the wood while I clung to him, my moans turning into animalistic whimpers.

Austin smiled at the memory. It had taken money, whispering in listening ears, along with a few threats, to get Hudson out of cuffs and back on the streets after the stunt he’d pulled. He hated the manhandling of women, especially strippers and hookers, who he claimed weren’t there by choice. He had a warped sense of responsibility towards women who couldn’t fend for themselves.

Lucky? The hooker teased them. Leaned in close to them, offering them views of what they couldn't have. A short guy in an ill-fitting suit approached, peso bills held in a sweaty hand. He poked the notes into the top of the hustler’s too-tight T-shirt, his body language needy. How pathetic is that guy? Sex-on-legs reached long fingers into his top and spoke briefly to him, who then stiffened and backed away, shaking his head and grabbing back the money he had offered.

His thumb brushed her clit in lazy circles. She was dripping down his hand. One of the men asked her a question. Viktor answered for her, all while finger-fucking her faster under the table. Aliyah bit her lip so hard she almost drew blood. Her thighs trembled. When the dessert arrived, Viktor pushed a third finger inside her and rubbed her clit firmly. “Come,” he whispered. Aliyah came silently at the table, pussy clenching around his fingers, biting the inside of her cheek to stay quiet. Her juices ran down his hand and onto the seat. Viktor pulled his fingers out, brought them to his mouth, and licked them clean while looking straight at her.

I never would have imagined Leah would come clean about her being a mistress to me, but she did. "Herbert's a liar! I joined his company after graduating from university two years ago. He was nice to me at first, but one day, he tricked me. He told me to go out with a client for some drinks. Then, h-he pinned me on the table a-and forced…" Leah couldn't bring herself to continue, but she didn't need to. I understood what had happened. Nobody knew better than me about the corrupt and indecent behaviors at nightclubs and bars.