EROTICA: NAUGHTY NYMPHS - 20 STEAMY STORIES OF BRATS FILLED & STUFFED (Adults Only Graphic Erotic Short Stories, XXX Mega Bundle MMF Explicit Erotica Collection)

by Madison Drips

  I nodded yes and allowed him to do whatever he desired. Giovanni was the best lover I ever had. He did not leave one spot untouched or unloved. He licked and stroked my anatomy from my head to my toes. Giovanni’s skills were so damn good; they were fucking unreal. After our one-day rendezvous, he whispered in my ear and asked if I wanted some breakfast in bed. I couldn’t believe I’d heard. Wait a minute. Did he say breakfast in bed? I didn’t know hustlers knew anything about cooking.

  “Okay,” he said, kissing my ear. “You’re missing out on some good-ass breakfast.” A second later, he returned to the bed and laid some money down. Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw six-hundred dollars sprawled out on the bed. I counted the money, placed it in my purse and got dressed. I didn’t bother to take a shower because the shower nozzle was half-broken and the tub looked like it needed to be scrubbed. Goodness. Where does Giovanni go to take hot showers? I pondered, rubbing my eyes. “Giovanni, I have to go now. Thank you for a wonderful time last night. I really appreciate it,” I declared, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. He kissed my cheek and then cupped my face. “Will I see you again, Misty?” he inquired, tonguing me down. We broke away from each other; giving each other room to breathe. I shrugged my shoulders, unsure of what to say. “I’m not sure. You might.”

  I know I was playing hard to get, but why not? It wasn’t as if we agreed to turn a one-night stand into a platonic friendship, let alone a long-term union. He shrugged his shoulders, moved towards the front door and coolly opened it for me. “Okay. You know where to find me if you need anything.” I smiled and left the premises, feeling woozy and happy consequently. I made seven-hundred dollars in one night. I couldn’t wait to tell Goldie the good news. I didn’t have to attend school until the next day, so I did what I always wanted to do but never had a chance to do so: I went clothing shopping, returned home and paid Mama’s bills.

  “Misty,where did you get this kind of money?!” she asked, her mouth agape. “Did you find another job?” I told her that I won some kind of lottery prize last night while hanging out with Goldie and that I wanted to surprise her. I knew it was a fib, but who cares? She needed the money to pay her bills before the deadline, so it didn’t mattered who I received the money from or where I received it, now did it? She blew out hot air. “Well, that’s nice, honey. Make sure to save the rest for rainy days,” she suggested, smiling. She hugged me, went to the living room and watched television. “Thank you for the clothes and paying my bills. I needed that.” I didn’t respond, just went in my room and stashed the rest of the cash in my secret spot. Pacing back-and-forth, I realized that if I could get away with selling my body for money, so beat it, because I was determined to grab what was mine.

  ***

  Two years later, I’ve made about four-grand within a year. I spent the rest of the rest on Mama’s bills and school fees. I graduated from high school with a 3.76 grade point average and attended a four-year college with a major in Mass Communications and a minor in English. I received nine-thousand dollars worth of scholarships, but I needed more than nine-grand to stay in school. Mama caught on to my hustle quicker than I expected. At first, she wasn’t fond of my new profession, practically begging me to stop prostituting. How could I stop selling my ass for money? The cash was too damn good to cease selling my body. Plus, Mama’s bills were paid for because I made that shit happen. Finally, Mama stopped intervening in my personal affairs and just gave me condoms and KY-jelly instead. “If you’re going to fuck your brains out, at least have enough sense to protect yourself. All diseases are not curable, you know? So strap up,” she said, slamming the door behind her and mumbling obscenities. Which word was it? Tramp? Bitch? Whore? I didn’t care. I was the one paying all the bills so why the heck was she complaining now?

  ***

  It took me an hour and thirty-five minutes to arrive to the Suburbs via bus. I saw my trick, Carey Ian Chong, CEO of the Moneymakers Enterprise Magazine; waiting for my arrival. He glanced at his watch, wondering what the hell is taking me so long to arrive to his house. I paused on the opposite side of the street and dialed his number. “Carey, come and get me, you jerk! I did my part. Now do yours,” I said, angrily. It was about forty-degree below and I was freezing cold! The sweater I wore did not block the frigidness from entering my body, of course. There was no way I was going to move another inch from where I stood. If Carey wanted some pussy, he would have to come and pick me up from the bus stop. After cursing him out and threatened to leave him alone for good, Carey finally gave in. Did he actually believe that I’d walk a mile or two on one of the coldest days in November? Fuck no.

  I’m a Taurus and my life motto is: I pay the cost to be the boss. Either you respect us- or kick rocks.

  “Get in the car, you spoiled brat,” he mumbled, disposing his cigarette out the window. He turned to me and said: “My wife will be here soon. We have until tomorrow to get this done and over with. So show me a good time- or you won’t receive a penny, do you hear me?” I nodded yes, ignoring his stupid rants. I wasn’t up for the bullshit so I waved him off as if he was some kind of bug, annoying the shit out of me.

  He slapped my hand. “Don’t do that, Misty. That’s rude, you know?”

  “Whatever,” I said, not looking in his direction. “Let’s do this.”

  He did not respond, just turned the corner to his house. At last, we arrived. I got out of the car and went inside his house, pissed off. Carey was behind me. He closed the door behind him and asked if I wanted something to drink before we have sex. “No. Where’s your bathroom? I need to take a shower,” I told him, smelling my underarms. I scrunched my face as if something foul was in the air or something. Truthfully, I hadn’t had a chance to take a hot bath since yesterday after coming from Mr. Avery Lin’s house in Chinatown. He said his wife was out of town and needed some sexual healing since his wife couldn’t sexually please him like she used to. He mentioned that before his wife’s vaginal surgery, she and Mr. Lin used to fuck like jackrabbits on a daily basis; anytime, anywhere. Nowadays, they barely kiss each other in the morning, let alone make love like most couples do. So, he called me to take care of him and I completed the mission as promised. He paid me five- grand and thanked me for showing a good time that night.

  “Don’t mention it,” I said, wiping sweat off my face, neck and breasts with a wash cloth that he’d given me to use. “It was my pleasure.” Hey, Mr. Lin might have been a thirty-nine year-old retired book publishing owner and literary agent with a nice physical build and oral skills that would put a porno star to shame but he had a nice-size bank account and could fuck better than younger guys I’ve screwed besides Giovanni. Avery wasn’t hard to get along with, either. He was very polite and wise. He liked fast cash and pretty women. He was twenty-one years older than me. I’d just turned eighteen in early May. Technically, I was legal. Not to mention, he liked to screw like there’s no tomorrow. “Jesus,” I said one evening, panting heavily after having sex with Mr. Lin for eight hours. “Isn’t there anything else that interests you besides screwing?”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “Yes. I like to draw pictures of nude women and partake in wine tasting events here and there, but what I really like to do is eat pussy,” he informed, licking his lips at me as if he’s ready to devour me once again. “What can I say? I’m a freak of nature.” I rubbed my sore clitoris with my index finger and told him I was exhausted from all the sex we’ve had. He rubbed my arms and pouted, sticking his lips out at me like a spoiled brat that’s been rejected from getting what he desires. I’d be damned if I go another round with Avery after all the sexual activities I’ve partaken just to keep him satisfied.

  He looked at me and smiled. “You must want some more tongue, huh?” He licked my face and kissed my neck. “You know I don’t mind pleasing you.” He added, touching my bare breasts: “You taste like sugar.” I pushed him away and affirmed: “Not now, Avery. May I please use the restroom?” Avery said yes and that was the end of it. I showe
red, dressed, got paid, and left; not bothering to call him and let him know I made it home safely. Now, I wished I’d stuck with Avery instead of this hot-headed, clown-ass jerk. “It’s down the hall, to the left.” I found the restroom and showered, preparing myself for sex with Carey before his wife show up.

  “I’m ready,” I yelled, coming out of the bathroom; wearing nothing but a silk, black robe. I sauntered into the room, pulled down his boxers and gave him head. “Your mouth is spectacular,” he said. I ignored him and continued sucking his dick until I heard someone come in. “How’d she return home so early?” he mumbled, pushing me off him. Immediately, I put on my robe and sat down on the bed. Carey, on the other hand, was busy putting on his clothes. And there she stood; looking stunned. “Honey, I am-“she paused, gasping. She couldn’t believe what was occurring. “Oh…. my… God…. I should sue you for this,” she cried in her southern drawl, then pointed towards me as if I was freaking trash. “You cheated on me with… her. Now I know you’re crazy as bird shit!” she exclaimed.

  Irritably, I told her to kiss my ass. Then, I turned to Carey and said: “Give me my money- or all hell will break loose, asshole.”

  The End.

  BONUS BOOK #2

  David woke up to another morning with his wife already dressed and off to work. 6:07am. He heard the car pull out of the garage as it drives off. He tried to shut his eyes again for maybe a few more minutes of sleep, but his phone was already buzzing with chores his wife was texting him to do that day.

  “Make sure Brandon gets to soccer practice on time, he was late last week. Make sure you remember his shin guards. Clean the kitchen sink, it’s disgusting. You need to go grocery shopping today or tomorrow we are running out of apple juice. Parent-Teacher conferences are on Thursday, but I have to shoot in Vegas this weekend, I know it was my turn, but can you do it? Thanks.”

  She was a very successful producer who was consistently working. After she had Brandon, her career exploded, leaving David in the dust. He finally rolled out of bed, still exhausted from the previous day. He sleepily waddled into the bathroom to freshen himself up before the day starts. As he’s trimming his beard he heard a large crash in the kitchen. He rushes in to see Brandon fully awake, standing on a chair, trying to grab a popsicle out of the freezer with all the flavors he doesn’t like on the floor.

  “Are you kidding me man?” Brandon has been doing this every morning for the past week. Smart little fucker isn’t he? Brandon turns to see his dad staring at him, quickly snatches a popsicle and darts into his bedroom. David tries to catch him with no luck. He decided to give Brandon some time to feel the success of his hard work, but after he’s done cleaning this mess he’s going to get it.

  As expected, Brandon was wailing in the backseat of David’s car as he pulls out of the driveway to take him to school.

  “I don’t want to go! Mrs. T is out to get me!” Brandon cried as he is wiping his sticky little fingers on the back seat.

  “Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing? Use a napkin!” David tries to thrown him a wet-one in the backseat, but accidentally throws it right in his face. “Oh, sorry bud.”

  Brandon doesn’t say anything and just makes a mad face at his dad while wiping his hands and quickly goes back to screaming. “Dad! You just don’t understand!”

  “I don’t understand? I went to school too and you know how I dealt with mean teachers?”

  “How?”

  “I pretended like I was really nice all day, and then when I got to soccer practice I imagined that the ball was their head.”

  “Wow Dad… that’s kind of mean.”

  “How is that—“

  Brandon was already half way out of the car when they pulled up in front on the elementary school and all David hoped for was that their talk today would prevent Brandon from getting into any fights.

  “OK, Bye Dad, love you, bye”

  “Bye! I’ll pick you up at—“ David’s words were left unheard as his son slams the door and runs to tackle one of his friends.

  David sighed, and plugs in his GPS to his new acting studio, which he is the head of. Class isn’t until 11:30am, but David loves to go early to be with his new accomplishment. The only place in the world he feels like he is in control and that’s just his, not his wife’s, not his son’s, just his. The studio was small, but a great start. He had been an acting coach for over 10 years after staring on broadway in a few plays and realized teaching was his passion.

  He loved how his teaching space was an actual theatre. He turned on the spotlights, sat in the front row in a red cushioned theatre seat and starred at the empty stage, imagining his students up there, doing beautiful work in this twisted art form. He pulled out all his paper work, the plays they were working on today, his notes, scripts from different coaching sessions and laid them all out, ready to get to work. Then the texts from his wife started to roll in.

  “Did Brandon get to school on time? Did you get to the studio? Did you have a chance to clean the sink?” He sighed and responded.

  “Yes, Yes, No.”

  She responded with “I’m working, I’ll text you later.”

  Before he knew it was 11am and his students were slowly rolling in. Some came in early to review their scenes and run lines and others came in to gossip with their friends. Everyone gave him a big hug when they got there. He was like a God to them. The best teacher around. He was known for telling you like it is and calling you out when you weren’t doing the work up to your potential.

  A few minutes before class he posted the line up of everyone going up. The students huddled around it like ants. Some grunts about going up first and second and some happy faces from the people going last.

  Class started smoothly. He started with an inspirational talk. Sometimes he only really did it because he needed some positive energy in his life, but his students enjoyed it all the same. Today he talked about seizing the moment, to not worry about consequences and to just do and be free. He could see everyones eyes look up at him like he was giving a sermon. All their pens scribbling in their notebooks. During his very last words, Drew walked in. Drew was the youngest girl in the class at 19 with everyone else being in their late 20’s early 30’s. She was popular too and friends with everyone in the class. She was beautiful with porcelain skin, and long jet black hair, she never wore makeup and would wear leggings and a crew neck, but she was still adorable. She always came to class a little tipsy or maybe hungover or maybe she was high, who knows, but she was a trouble maker. The second she walked into the room everyone turned to her and started to beckon her to sit next to them. He kept talking trying to ignore it, but as she sat down her and her 4 girl friends immediately started talking.

  “Hey!” He shouted in his power. The girls fell silent. “Pay attention. What I’m saying might actually help you one day.”

  Everyone in class awkwardly readjusted themselves, seeing David suddenly stern. The only person in the room who wasn’t at all intimidated was Drew, who gives David a slight smile and sits back nicely into her chair, without making any hesitation to put her feet up on the chair infant of her with her arms crossed. David sighed and continues his talk.

  The class went smoothly from then on. Everyone did their homework and scene after scene was fantastic. Sure there were a few slip ups from time to time, but what do you expect, it’s part of the craft. It was already 4pm when it was Drew’s turn to go up with her partner Scotty. David always was interested to see what she brought to the table. Even though she has a bratty, I-don’t-care attitude, she is one of the more talented people in the class, or in his opinion, she was.

  This was the first time he was going to see her do the scene and he was very intrigued to see what she came up with. She walked out on stage in a simple, velvet, body hugging dress. Today was the first day he had really seen her figure. Of course he knew she was petite from her frame and when she would hug him good-bye, but he had no idea she had beautiful perky breasts and a firm butt to match.
He noticed that she wasn’t wearing a bra that day, her nipples started to poke through her dress, from being cold or nervous he couldn’t tell. Her lips were painted red and she sat down with purpose in her place.

  He snapped himself back to professional studio mode before the scene started. He never looks at students this way. He always saw them as students and never crossed that line because of how unprofessional it was. Plus he’d lose respect in his community, but something about her had his mind jumping. He watched her closely as she kissed her scene partner. He saw the arch in her back and the unexpected biting of a lip. The scene had arched from love to hate quickly and David watched Drew’s soft little breasts as she spoke.

  He shook himself back to reality. What is he doing? He cut the scene and sat them down for a talk back.

  “So Scotty, how was that for you?” David asked this after every scene to see if they have been paying attention or not.

  “I don’t know I feel a little off today and I’m not sure if it’s my job, or maybe it’s even this character…”

  David started to focus on something else… Drew. She was leaning back comfortably on the couch on stage. She always lazily slumped, but today she sat up straight with her tits to the sky.