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Pimp Daddy's Perfect Prize

37 pages31 minutes


Cheyenne is an Ivy League coed on spring break, and eager to win her first wet t-shirt contest. When the voting doesn't go her way, she finds herself being consoled by a big, dangerous looking pimp. She can tell he has very scary plans for her, but he also calls to something deep and dangerous deep within. Will Cheyenne find the strength to fend off his evil designs? Or will Pimp Daddy win yet another Perfect Prize?

Warning: This short-story contains extremely explicit consensual sex between adults, in every orifice of her body. If you are offended by gangbangs, rough sex, domination and submission, then don't read this story.

* * * Only for 18+ adults * * *


“That’s right, girl, I’ll take care of you,” he said, his voice sounding so sincere and soothing. She had to remind herself that he was a pimp, a master manipulator of young women. Then she noticed the bulge pressing into her lower belly. He had a major woody, and that sucked her breath away. "You are such a beautiful girl."

His arms tightened around her, squeezing her just right. Cheyenne closed her eyes and moaned. She felt so good. The warm tinglies filled her. When she shifted, and hugged him tighter, his bulge pressed harder into her. And her fertile mind went to a place she was trying to avoid.

Pimp Daddy slid a bold hand down her back and gave her a firm squeeze.

"Mmmmmm," she moaned, feeling butterflies filling her belly as her pussy ached and filled with her love juices. Realizing she was getting aroused, Cheyenne tried to stop it. But the harder she tried, the wilder the thoughts became, and the hotter and more mushy her insides became. "I can't. I can't."

"Can't what?" Pimp Daddy said.

Cheyenne wiggled free, gasping when one of his amazingly large hands briefly cupped and squeezed her left breast. Looking down, she saw her nipples were dark with blood flow, and standing so erect it was embarrassing. She fought the urge to touch them, to run her fingertips over those sensitive buds. Cutting her eyes up, Pimp Daddy caught her eyes and held them. As she stared slack-jawed into his eyes, Cheyenne felt her body change, becoming sexually charged and needy. Her twat began to ache, feeling so wet and ready.

"Oh God, I'm fucking losing my mind," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. When he reached for her, Cheyenne pushed him away and turned for the door. "I'm sorry. I have to go. I need fresh air."

She got one step before Pimp Daddy grabbed her upper arm and spun her around.

About the Author:
Raquel Rogue has a passion for erotic writing, her pet Yorkie, and stilettos. Not necessarily in that order. She can't get her fertile mind off the tawdry, taboo side of life, so writes stories so wet, wild, and wicked, it'll curl your toes.

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