Pussy Cats: 4 XXX Stories of Girls Who Love Man-Cream!

By Gina Marnel

Young, cute and innocent looking, but these girls all have one thing in common – They love sex! 4 red-hot stories, some previous listed best-sellers, of young teenage girls who use their 'charms' to make extra cash; sweet girl-next-door types who look like butter wouldn't melt in their mouths.

Titles Include:  'Working My Pussy', 'It was Rough but Felt So Good., 'I'll Be So Dirty For You', and 'Lucy: The 18 year old Cock –Slut'.

Four short stories that push the boundaries to the limit– Highly rated 'Teenie Sex' for broad minded adults and over 18's only. Want hardcore action as opposed to sweet kisses and softcore romance? Then this collection is for you...Scroll down to order now!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gina Marnel
• Release date: Aug 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393889779

Book preview

#1: Working My Pussy....

Oh, c’mon baby, stay with me and you’ll never have to work a single day in your life again. Mr. Raymond said to me while his hands slowly wandered down my naked body.

I know that Mr. Raymond. But for how long, really. How long will it last? I asked while grabbing my clothes off the floor. I stood up and checked myself in the mirror. I combed my long blonde hair with my fingers.

You know I love you Emma. I’m serious. He said in a serious tone of voice, and grabbed my arm to get my attention.

I have to go back to work. I turned around, asking him to let me go without me saying a word, but he would not let go. I know I won’t be young forever and I won’t be pretty forever. I know you’ll grow tired of me, it always happens with us young girls. I said, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

The other girls would have jumped at this opportunity. I know they would. They would be more than happy to be a rich bitch and live the good life. But what they never realize is that they’ll only be a paid-for-bitch as long as their faces are still wrinkle-free and they are still desirable between the sheets. I had no dreams of being a mistress, or living in a paid for apartment with the fear of being tossed out anytime the boyfriend, sugar daddy, boss-man, decided I was no good in bed anymore.

Not me. I know the game. I work the meat beat and that’s how it is. My pussy is my money-maker, I need to put it to work as much as I can, not get trapped into some old guy’s system. I could have stayed on at Uni and worked for my degree but I never wanted all that class work. I don’t consider myself as a hard-nosed hooker though. Some of the girls I meet are real hard cases, but not me, I’m quiet and I’m sweet. That’s why all the guys prefer to hire me, I guess. I’m the cute little girl-next-door type.

I slowly put my clothes on, Mr. Raymond watching my every move. He held my bra with his hand and twirled it around to catch my attention.

Hey... Give that back. I’m in a hurry. Please? I asked, with a fake smile on my face.

Only if you promise you’ll see me again tomorrow. He said, trying to sweet talk me. I nodded and he handed my bra back to me.

Yes, Mr. Raymond. I will be back tomorrow and the next day, and the next – until you grow tired of me or until I empty your pockets. I whispered in his ear as my hand reached for his wallet in the back pocket of his pants. I took a couple of bills and slipped his wallet back, giving him a little pinch on his butt. He always let me take money from him and never checked to see how much I took. He was filthy rich and he had many girly-toys like me.

I took a cab back to the club. I was working behind the bar now. I turned down the spot for assistant manager because I needed spare time to make quick trips for unexpected guest calls like Mr. Raymond. I needed the money to pay the bills and to pay Sean the money I owed him. Sean? He’s the guy who got me into all this, into selling it. I really was an innocent until he told me about how I could make a really good living by laying on my back and opening my legs for a couple of hours. He’s a good guy, I like him, he showed me a new life.

I shoved the used trays on the rack and turned around to see a beautiful woman standing there. Jane. Now, Jane really is what you’d call a working girl. She’s really beautiful but with a hard edge to her nature. I wouldn’t want to upset her, that’s for sure.

Don’t forget, 11:30 in the park. She reminded me before leaving with her guest for the night. She blew me a kiss and threw her arms around the guy standing beside her.

Why the fuck would Sean ask me to meet him in the park at midnight? Something must be wrong. At least I could hand him half of the money I took from Mr Raymond and maybe even up the score with Sean in some other way.

He would never ask me to leave the club if there wasn’t a client asking for me specifically. Jane was the one who relayed the message. She’d only dropped by the club to tell me that Sean wanted to talk to me in the park. She shrugged her shoulders when I asked her why. If there was a paying guest or client, or whatever you want to call ‘em, Jane would know.

I finished up behind the bar and went and got changed. I peeled off my dress and put the ripped jeans and black tank back on. Wearing casual clothes didn’t make me look so cheap as all those cheesy dresses the club liked us girls to wear. It was a cool night but I opted for a sleeveless top so I could show off my new tattoo. I checked my mobile for messages and saw that Sean had already sent me a message about our little meeting in the park, which was kind of creepy. Sean was already in his early forties and a bit weird for my tastes. He handled the female escorts and bar girls in this part of Manchester. He was always dressed smartly, usually with a clean t-shirt and a pair of designer jeans. He was the kind of guy who would help out the old folks crossing the street, or people trying to find a cab , but cross him and he could turn very nasty

The clients Sean did business with were regulars and the new ones were usually referred to him by previous clients. He refuses to call himself a pimp, although that’s exactly what he is and that’s what we call him behind his back, and he refuses to refer to us as prostitutes. He said it was an escort business that he ran and not a whore house. Whatever, for girls like me and Jane, we didn’t mind the term or what else guys called us. We made more than the girls working their ass off in the big offices on their minimum wages. I make that in less than an hour in tips alone. Then I get paid for opening my legs of course, that’s where the big money is.

It wasn’t always paid sex, sometimes it was just paid company and Sean made sure the guys who took us out were not freakin’ psychos who would hurt us or put us through any kinky kind of shit.

Hey! Watch where you’re going! A man in a late night delivery truck cursed at me after he almost hit me while I crossed the street to get to the park. I wasn’t focused; my thoughts were all jumbled in my head. I was worried about what my pimp wanted. That was the problem with Sean, never any warning.

I walked a few blocks more till I reached the park, then jumped over the low steel fence to get in. I saw somebody sitting on a bench at the far end of the park. I noticed him in the dark immediately because of the light from his mobile phone’s LCD. It was Sean, no mistaking him, even in the dark. He didn’t see