The Hustler Novels & Stories

the host whispered. On the screen: Sylvia Hart: “She trusts me. She won’t notice.” Sylvia Hart: “I’ll change the names. Minor edits. It’ll pass.” Sylvia Hart: “Once it’s uploaded, it’s mine.” Elara’ s breath hitched violently. Her legs gave way, but she didn’t fall. She couldn’t feel the floor. Fallon covered her mouth in shock. The host stumbled back from the podium. “Turn that off! Turn it off now!”

I replied in a bit of shock. “May they rest in peace," he stood up his feet again. “Eric, what are you? What have you become?" “A hustler, old friend," he replied casually. “You came from wealth, you’d never get it." “Hustling doesn't turn anyone into a monster!” "They ain't me,” he sat at the other corner of the bus opposite me with the same proud smile still lingering across his cheeks. “Let's catch up old times before I give you away, who knows we might never see each other again,” he paused inbetween sentences, “Who knows what they'd do to you?"

Following the comments’ hints, I searched for the account of Hubert’s mistress on social media. That was when I discovered she’d appeared right under my nose countless times. She was a small influencer under Hubert’s media company, named Jenna Song. Her account was called “ParkerAndJenna.” The latest video showed a street in Westin, where two people held hands and embraced like they’d finally reached the end of a long journey. And I could recognize that small mole on the man’s hand. The caption read: “In the year of purest love, he left behind the fiancée his family had chosen for him and crossed more than ten thousand kilometers to find me, all the way from Ashford to Westin.”

Carnation was about to stand when Luca spoke again. "I'm sorry." Carnation was taken aback and looked into her boss's eyes, puzzled. Was what she had heard accurate? Did Mr. Lust really apologized to her? "I know I shouldn't have ridden your mistake about me back then, and I shouldn't be enraged because you already know who I am." Luca sighed and looked away. He did not know how to explain himself. He could not find the right words to defend himself, he admitted to the mistake he had made to her. The truth is, he is a coward. He couldn't tell her he was the infamous Mr. Lust, the reason she's selling her body now. He couldn't handle seeing Carnation's disappointment when she discovered he w

The bass thumped, the lights flashed, and the crowd writhed in a frenzy of lust and desire. It was a typical Saturday night at Club Xtasy, the hottest spot in town for those seeking a wild time. Amidst the sea of sweaty bodies, one figure stood out-a tall, muscular white man with a tribal tattoo snaking up his neck, a telltale sign of his true identity.

Hugo shouted with amusement. “And you, Carter,” she began. “I loved you the best I could, and it still wasn’t enough for you. You whored around with other women behind my back. And when I had the nerve to say something about it, you hit me! And yes, I knew you were a crooked, drug-peddling thief, but you crossed the line when you let your homies sell drugs to eleven-year-olds and scam vulnerable old people out of their money, and wanting me to turn into your own personal hit woman to do your bidding. Oh, and I’m convinced that you got underage girls working in your whorehouses! It’s one thing to be ruthless in business. It’s another when you’re a sick—"

“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.

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.

"Okay for years now I've not had anyone in my life. It's because of my past but I really want nothing to do with people. I've done everything on my own, even pleased myself when I had an erection but then you did what you did yesterday and I realized how much I'd forgotten the taste of someone. It's not the same as using my own hands." "What are you driving at?" I was bitterly confused. "I'll pay you to be my exclusive sex partner." He said. His blank face didn't help me understand what he was thinking or what on earth was going on through his head as he spoke. "I thought you said you didn't do love." I reminded him, still not understanding his concept. "And this doesn't require love. I want

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