Roxanne (Part 3) - Preview

Months had passed since that brutal afternoon in Max’s dorm, and Roxanne had shed the last traces of the sweet high-school girl like old skin. The breakup had lit a fire in her—one that burned hotter with every new cock she took, every thick shaft that stretched her until she screamed. She’d dropped out of community college, moved into a sleek off-campus loft paid for in cash, and turned her insatiable hunger into an empire. Word spread fast on encrypted apps and whispered locker-room chats: Roxanne was the best money could buy. High rates, higher standards. But if a guy packed serious heat—thick, long, veined, the kind that made her pussy ache just looking at it—she’d waive the fee without a second thought. She was always hunting for the next monster that could ruin her right.

Tonight, the college basketball gym sat dark and empty under the hum of emergency lights, the scent of sweat and rubber still thick in the air. Practice had ended hours ago, but Roxanne had slipped in through the side door after midnight, heels clicking on the polished floor, short skirt riding high on her white stocking covered thighs. Her red hair was cropped shorter now—chin-length, sleek, framing a face that looked sharper, more predatory, more woman than girl. The starting center, Jamal—a 6'10" tower of muscle with a reputation that matched his wingspan—had booked her for a private “cool-down” session. No cash changed hands the second she saw the bulge in his shorts...

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