Andrea Brooks Nude Novels & Stories

So why not go with the flow? Andrea took a deep breath and stripped out of the jeans, tank top and her bra. Christ, the whole world knew what she looked like topless. Guess there wouldn't be any mystery there. No reason to get nervous, right? She pulled on his shirt, luxuriating in the softness of the fabric after hours spent in clothes that felt painted on. That just wasn't her thing, though she was-and would-be grateful to the girls for helping her out.

He pushed off his wet trunks, and now naked, he propped himself up on his bed with his laptop. The image came up just in time to show Brenda slip out of her bikini on the far side of her bed, facing Bryce's camera. His dick began to quickly expand as he took in the beauty of those gorgeous tits and the little landing-strip muff of pubic hair that adorned her pronounced pussy-mound.

Through the open door, I could see Andreas. He was naked from the waist up, muscles tense as he held himself in an exercise position—probably a plank. Sweat glistened on his skin, the light from the large windows casting a golden sheen over his toned back and arms. For a moment, I just stood there, frozen.

Thirty minutes now ,she still had not gotten naked. “Take it off. Now!!!” Andre said in a loud tone. Fear, shock and confusion all ran into Vanessa. He could have said it in a lower tone, I won't disobey him. Coming down from the pole. “Okay” she responded in a mild tone. “I was not talking to you Vanessa, do your thing ” he answered calmly. More confused and disturbed, “Who was he talking to then?”. Then she noticed he was talking to one of his bodyguards who wrongly placed a gadget in the room.

The next thing Calley heard was Nelly exclaiming: “Hey—oh my god! Why is there a nude painting of you up there?!” She laughed at Nelly’s reaction. Somehow, she’d expected this. “Do you like it?” Nelly instinctively stepped back and rubbed her arms as goosebumps ran down her skin. “Dear Lord, my hair’s standing! Caty, who the heck did you strip for to paint that?!” Nelly then turned to her with wide, almost tearful eyes. “Why would you pose naked for a painter? Does Ser Phill know about this? Why would you do this, Caty? He’d be devastated if he found out—”

The shame always returned, sinking into my bones, reminding me that perhaps I should have been born into some nameless, ordinary family where weakness would not be a curse. My eyes moved to the arena where Andrea stood, commanding the center of the stadium as if she owned it. She wore fitted black jeans and a leather-sleeved top that clung to her curves, her body radiating a mature, intimidating beauty. Combat boots anchored her stance. She was smiling—a sharp, devilish smile that made my heart race—but it was not as chilling as the expression I had seen yesterday, when her nails had hovered at my throat, ready to pierce.