Iceberg Slim Pimp Novels & Stories

Between my legs, the pimp buries himself, groaning and sweating profusely, while slamming into me like a sl*t he paid for a night. The smelly thing, the bloody casanova, kisses me with renewed passion that makes me want to throw up on him. Every time his lips comes over my face, his breath reeks with a putrid stench. my guts twist, but my lips part voluntarily for him, moaning as they ravaged me from all corners. One gropes my breast. The other sucks hungrily from the other corner and minutes later, the pimp isn't halfway through to a climax.

I can still hear my dad's voice, cold and cutting like a knife. “You have the Pike name, Toby, but you have none of the steel. You’re a waste of good blood.” He thinks I’m slow. He thinks I’m a coward. He doesn’t know that while I’m scrubbing these floors, I'm solving multivariable calculus in my head to avoid me from screaming. He doesn’t know that I’m only here, working for minimum wage and hiding in the shadows, because it’s the only place Calvin can’t reach me. Or so I tell myself.

Pimp' into trouble. "Okay, I'll leave." Mr. Pimp said and walked away. After taking a few steps away, 'Mr. Pimp's' personal assistant who had hidden somewhere at his command appeared and asked," sir, are you okay?" "Throw that Olga man out of the hotel." His spoke with power. Whereas, Ida turned to look at Olga as soon as 'Mr. Pimp' left, "why are you trying to harass me?" "Harass? You started it first by slapping me and my fiancée in public? Don't even think of escaping again cause I'm not done with you?" He grabbed her arms tightly and began to drag her away.

Just us acting dumb on the ice, breathing heavy, grinning like idiots. My legs screamed louder as we kept going, but I didn’t care. Roland’s teasing turned softer, mixed with actual tips. “Loosen up more. Yeah, like that.” His hands found my hips again a couple times, guiding without the heavy pressure. Each touch made my heart race weird. I kept stealing glances at him—sweaty hair stuck to his forehead, that cocky smile that wasn’t so annoying anymore. The rink felt smaller, just us and the sound of our skates.

Linda snorted from the corner, arms crossed, and jumped in with the final blow. "Officer, I can testify. This guy Jake was telling my husband at the front door—with his own mouth—that he'd offer up his wife for my husband to use. A pimp like this belongs in a ditch." Jake had nothing left to say. The drug purchase records. The signed loan contract. The livestream replay of him forcing a dog collar around my neck. It was all ironclad. Two officers stepped forward, yanked Jake's arms behind his back, and snapped the cold handcuffs shut.

I was wiping down the counter when a smooth, deep voice cut through the chatter. “Can I get an iced latte?” I looked up and froze. Tristan Hale stood right there—tall, broad-shouldered, and stupidly handsome in a backward cap and team hoodie. His storm-gray eyes met mine, and for one terrifying second, I forgot how to breathe. My stomach flipped. He tilted his head, a half-smile forming. “You okay?” “Y-yeah! Iced latte. Coming right up.” My hands shook the entire time I made his drink. When I set it down, he slid the cash across the counter, his fingers brushing mine for half a second.

" He released me, stepping back onto the ice with a flawless drop, picking up his stick without looking back. As he skated toward the center circle to line up directly opposite a trembling, furious Caleb, I looked over at Girlie. The elegant woman was calmly adjusting her coat, looking up at the VIP suite where Victor Harlow was furiously speaking into a phone. "The loophole worked," Girlie said smoothly, her eyes gleaming with a cold, triumphant satisfaction. "Now, watch him take his crown back."

intended to capture something. Sheila’s stomach dropped. She scanned the room and saw the coach. Coach Rivera stood near a bench with a clipboard in his hand, and looked angry. He glanced at Sheila once, then looked away as though he didn’t want to acknowledge her. Something was wrong. Sheila started recording the warm-up routines, but could not concentrate. Her gaze continued to wander toward the ice. Atticus Finch was already on it. He was skating, but not as he typically did. Not like a man training. Like a dude trying to prove something. His movements were sharp. His shots were vicious. His breathing was uneven. Sheila watched him carefully before moving. She saw something she hadn’t se

I рrеfеr working аlоnе, but thе need for mоrе hеlр is urgеnt. I’m ѕwаmреd with my саѕеlоаd аnd іt’ѕ not lіkе trafficking wіll ѕtор аnуtіmе ѕооn. A gооd pimp wіll mаkе two hundrеd thousand a year frоm оnе girl. Thеrе’ѕ аlwауѕ a demand аnd nо rеаѕоn tо ѕhut dоwn ѕuсh a luсrаtіvе gаmе by сhоісе.

He no longer had the ability or the inclination to continue keeping Eva by his side, as she was just a useless leech to him. After realizing that Johann was now broke, Eva's attitude toward him changed drastically. She constantly went out to flirt and sleep with other men, contracted a plethora of STDs, and passed all of them on to Johann. The last I heard of him was from a former friend, who said he had borrowed several thousand dollars to treat his STDs at a shady clinic. As for Eva, she was ultimately arrested by the police for her involvement in drugs, gambling, and prostitution. I listened to everything the friend had to tell me without flinching at all. Instead, a faint smile played on