Christopher Cote Nude Novels & Stories

Spade was still trying to hide his hard on from Matteo as he tried to stop it from getting any harder but that was almost impossible, not with Nate still standing almost half naked on the screen. Nate suddenly hooked his hands to the towel around his waist as both men's eyes widen, one dreading the reaction his body would give upon seeing the complete nakedness of Nate, while the other only shocked at how easy it was for Nate to always strip for the camera. Slowly but surely, Nate began peeling off the towel, Spade tensed as the top part of Nate's butt began showing, he swallowed hard as he felt Matteo's body heat close to him, he didn't want anyone to be seeing this, this was going too far

"Please, Cage. I want to see your dick. Please don't make me beg, just take it out and show me." "You don't need to beg, I'll show you," Cage answered after a brief pause. He unzipped his shorts, lifted his butt and pushed them down, then lifted his legs and took them completely off. Kota leaned a little forward to get a good look while Cage pulled his shirt off over his head. She didn't mean he should get naked, but she wasn't about to complain. "Oh, you're uncircumcised.You're so hard. I did that to you?" Kota whispered in her breathy, low, sultry voice.

"Forget it if you’re planning on using me to threaten Elliot. Because he still can’t recognize me! He won’t even blink if you kill me!" Christopher threw his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it. Then, he faced Avery. He was wearing a tight-fitting white singlet which revealed his muscular body. He walked toward Avery with an evil smile and pinched her chin, "I came solely for you tonight." Avery tried to push him away as she was disgusted by his obscene look, but he did not move at all. "Those filthy things that you did with Elliot in the room on our yacht today were all recorded by our CCTV!" Christopher pinched her chin harder and his tone became ruder, "I’m much stronger than Elliot

The cot creaked when his knee bumped the edge. Chris didn’t tense. Didn’t move to cover me or push Mathew away. He just shifted slightly, enough to angle my body toward Mathew, enough to spread my thighs a fraction wider so Mathew could see everything: the swollen, glistening mess between my legs, the thick white streaks of Chris’s cum still leaking out, and the faint red fingerprints on my inner thighs. Mathew exhaled roughly. “You’re still dripping him,” he said—voice low, almost awed. “All over his cot, and all over yourself.”

"You beautiful and you wearing enough. I want to see your gorgeous body. You can sleep in those or in the nude tonight. Tomorrow morning you best be wearing that or be naked." Exhausted from their day of sex, Christy went to bed in the undergarments Reggie had selected. The nightly visions of his tremendous cock, of her pussy drilled by it over, and over again, played in her mind like a pornographic gif file before she entered deep slumber. But the same images returned to her in a dream the next morning when Christy's journey through forgetful nothingness ended and she entered lighter sleep.

Vincent's POV I poured myself more wine and remained seated in silence in the living room when suddenly my phone buzzed on the cushion beside me. I glanced at the screen. The contact name read: The Gravedigger. I picked it up and opened the message immediately. There it was. A video of Christopher's nude and pictures. Clear— Crisp— Undeniable— Front facing— And perfectly delivered. The kind of image that only came from someone on the inside with full access.

Christophe advanced, amused by her question. Intent golden eyes lazily skimmed over the full thrust of her breasts and the rounded swell of her hips. A deep flush warmed her skin. He stripped off his shirt and cast it carelessly aside. He had a truly magnificent torso. Her tongue stole out to moisten her dry lips as he embarked on his jeans. She expected him to reveal swimming briefs beneath but Christophe skimmed off down to bare golden flesh. “I never wear anything when I’m swimming, chérie.” “Oh… So I see.”

“What?” Christine reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small stack of photos. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed them onto the floor, where they fanned out as I stared, my blood turning to ice at the images. The images were me and Francis, naked on the bed, captured in moments I’d thought were private. My face burned, shame and fury warring within me as I looked at the evidence of our affair scattered at my feet.

I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off, along with my boxers, never breaking eye contact. Christopher's gaze traveled over every inch of me, slow and thorough. Good, he murmured. Now touch yourself. What? You heard me. He finished unbuttoning his shirt, letting it fall open. I want to watch you touch yourself while I get undressed. Heat flooded through me, but I did what he asked. My hand wrapped around myself, and Christopher's eyes tracked the movement, his breathing getting heavier. That's it, he said, shrugging off his shirt completely. Just like that. Show me how much you want this.

The scene that greets me would be artistic if it wasn't so goddamn typical. Cole stands in front of an easel, completely naked except for the wine glass in his hand. A woman—also naked—poses on a velvet chaise, her body arranged in some classical position that probably has a fancy art term I don't know. Drugs are scattered across every surface. Pills, powder, God knows what else. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," I snarl. Cole doesn't even turn. Just takes a leisurely sip of wine and adds another brush stroke to his canvas. "Ah. My darling boy is here."