Pink Suit Filthy Frank Novels & Stories

She doesn't seem to mind. Oh boy, this kid is hot to trot, Sally thinks. A month without pussy, for someone who's used to getting it everyday, will do that to you. She slides her arm through his, pressing the side of her breast against his bicep as they walk into the nightclub, complete with loud music and wall-to-wall people. She can't wait to get him out on the dance floor; a little grinding against his hard cock will tell her whether she wants to go any farther. She doubts if he's as hung as her brother-in-law. But Frank is the exception. She sighs at the thought of Frank's cock. She only got to sample it once, several years ago, but it is still a vivid memory. *****

Pete asked, leaning closer. Frank's breath caught in his throat as Pete leaned in closer, his strawberry perfume tingling his nose, goddess, he smelled good. "What?" he asked in a breathless voice. "It's a gray hair" Pete replied, leaning back, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "fuck you" Frank told him. Pete raised his leg, brushing against Frank's leg. "Do you have the energy for that old man?" Pete asked. Frank looked at Pete's eyes, at the heat there and he knew what Pete wanted.

My brows dipped. “Say it clearly,” I said. Frankie exhaled like a man bracing for impact. “You always had a talent for choosing the worst women.” I was in his face in an instant, gripping his collar and pulling him up to meet my eyes. He groaned but his smile didn’t falter. “Watch your fucking mouth,” I seethed roughly. Fear flickered briefly before he hid it with a low chuckle. “She’s not what you think she is.” “She’s exactly what I think she is.”

Frank is the number one office rat, and while I had my moments of disgust regarding his inability to keep secrets, today, his leaky faucet nature would come in handy. I walked toward his desk on the other side of the aisle from Gwen's. Frank was dipping his tea bag into his favorite pink ‘I'm a sexy bitch cup’, inhaling the steam. "Frank, have you—?” "Dammit, Chelsea! You're interrupting my morning ritual. Go away," he scoffed. "Frank, what I have to say is crucial." I leaned on his cubicle. "Fine, go ahead, but if it's not important, you owe me a cup of peach passion tea from Starbucks tomorrow morning," he said as he swirled the spoon around his cup.

"W-What are you doing here? I've suffered enough already! What else do you want from me?" I picked up the phone and got to the point. "I burned your limited-edition hiking boots and discarded all your precious cosmetics. Oh, and another thing." I stared into her terrified eyes, enunciating my next words. "Jack told the court that you seduced him. Apparently, you did whatever it took to climb up, no matter the cost." Her face was drained of all color. I hung up with a quiet satisfaction and turned away. I knew that inside prison, the lives of these two would be equally entertaining, poisoned by suspicion and hatred toward each other.

"I need you to eat my pussy, of course, and I need you and another guy to fuck my ass and pussy. You know how much I love being the middle of a sandwich. I'll think of something else when you're here and let you know." Being Saturday, the first person I called was Frank, an athletic young man with blonde hair, green eyes and what seems to be a permanent hardon. He really likes going with me to see women such as Marilyn and to take care of their wants and needs, so he's usually the man I call first. He was in, and eager to do what I had in mind, so I went to his apartment to pick him up and take him to Marilyn's comfortable flat.

“Clubs, bars. That kind of thing.” The question landed clean and precise. I reached for my coffee. I gave myself half a second. “Not really,” I said. “Not my thing.” “No?” His tone was light. Conversational. “You don’t look like someone who plays it safe.” *That’s Pinky’s line. He used that exact framing with Pinky.* The recognition moved through me cold and fast. *He’s fishing. He’s using language from the club and watching whether it lands differently on me.*

This was her first time seeing Frankie so outraged. “B*tch, don’t call me your husband. I want to throw up whenever I look at you.” Hilary’s misdeeds were now spread across the entire Southern Sophistication forum. Never in his wildest dreams did Frankie imagine that his beloved woman would be this shameless and vulgar.

I said smoothly. “Are you guys going to eat and stop keeping your father waiting?” Mum voiced echoed from the kitchen. With a few pancakes stuffed in my mouth, I grabbed my cup gulping the juice in a go. “Mum, we are done. Leaving already.” “What, but am not even—” I wasted no time pulling Diane out of the house, Lucian was leaning on the black SUV hands buried in his pockets, he was in a black shirt, two buttons undone muscles peeking out. Fitted pants that hugged his torso, enough for me to see his dick shape from within he smirked at me as if he could read what I was thinking in my mind.

“Get out now.” “Oh come on—“ I cut her off by pushing her to the wall pinning her there. “You are a dirty little slut an that is what you’ll ever be” “Yes Daddy… I can be anything for you”.She pushes my chest but her hands shake. “You're burned. Go clean up.” I ignore her me hands slides lower to her jeans I unbutton them. Slow. She should stop me, but she doesn’t. “Even? Not yet.” I slip my hand inside over her panties.