Donna Rice Nude Novels & Stories

"Where are you?" I growled in a low voice. "I'm… at home… working out," Donna replied, her breath sounding hitched. Working out? What a load of nonsense! "Send me a picture," I demanded, a scowl darkening my face. I wanted to see just how long she could keep this up. "Okay… ah!" Donna yelped uncontrollably, then panted while saying, "Honey, there's a cockroach. I have to go."

It was a picture of Tricia. Randy was confused on why she was showing him her picture. Is her picture part of the work she will be doing in her office. What point was she planning to proof with her picture? On the screen, she have four of her pictures. They were not even pictures of her at work but a picture of her at a club, dancing, coated with sweat from the no-doubt heated atmosphere she was dancing in. Tricia was wearing a tight blue top which was scooped low that her large breasts were just showing out from her sides. She was also wearing a short skirt that barely covered the cheek of her big ass. It was showing off what she was wearing underneath which was a cheer pink pantie as she d

"Okay, let's be honest with each other here. What's really going on? Why are you having such a freak out about getting your freak on?" If it hadn't been such a serious thing for Jessica, she would have snickered at the play on words from Bianca's mouth. "Because, who does that? I ran here because I had nude pictures get exposed, and I was so embarrassed that happened, but I'm perfectly okay with shucking every part of clothing off the top half of my body and letting Layne have his way with me on the side of the road? What the fuck is wrong with me?" "Nothing," Bianca told her softly. "Nothing is wrong with you. You want to know what I think?"

After washing the cum off our faces, Lisa said, "Master, we wish you to have a seat in your lounger, and we'll all take off our clothes at once." We led him to his chair and stood in front of it. All we had on were simple dresses, though mine was a fat maternity dress. All we had to do was lift them over our heads and we'd be naked. We grabbed the hems and on a signal from Rhonda, lifted them up and off. We went into Display position, our legs spread and cunts visible for our Master. The two tattoos were the most visible off the bat and he noticed those first, but the gold posts in Rhonda's nipples soon caught his eye as well. Then he noticed Lisa was pierced too.

A month later, on the southern coast of Exily. The sun was bright, and I lay on the deck of my private yacht, savoring a quiet holiday. Serena walked over with a tablet, clicking her tongue. "Big news." She turned the screen toward me. The headline on Ritelle's local news, in bold black letters, was striking: "Don Lucio Rossi Dies of Critical Injuries! Rossi Family Assets Taken Over by Della Vera Family!" The subheadline: "Ex-Godfather's Mistress Camilla Rossi Missing After Mental Breakdown."

Just as I stepped through the door, my phone buzzed in my hand. I looked down and squinted. No name. Just an unknown number. Hmm… Strange. The picture loaded slowly, then it appeared. My eyes went wide the second it came into focus. My hands shook so hard I almost dropped the phone. Nico was in it. He was naked, lying on his side. Nico’s eyes were closed. He looked like he was asleep. His arm was draped over a blonde‑haired woman, pulling her close against him. Her bare back was to the camera.

I thought I would be calm. But when the truth finally came out, my body trembled all the same, and I couldn't stop it. "Heads of the families, I know you all want Louis dead right now, but before he's judged, there's a personal debt I mean to settle with him." I took a deep breath. "I wonder if any of you remember the former Donna of the Vitale family. My mother, Selena Pavano." "Twenty years ago, my brother was barely a month old when Louis's wife Jessica threw him from an upper floor to his death. And my father, Louis, never bothered to learn the truth. He took Jessica at her word and had my mother beaten to death..."

A former colleague of Bianca’s—someone he vaguely recognized from a dinner Bianca once begged him to attend. She froze when she saw him. “You—You’re Enzo Marchello?” He stepped toward her. “Where is she?” The woman’s eyes widened with equal parts anger and disbelief. “You’re her fiancé?” She laughed sharply. “That’s rich. Because every newspaper in Europe thinks Lucia Ricci is your bride-to-be.” Enzo’s heart plummeted. “She’s not,” he rasped. “Bianca is.” The colleague’s expression softened—just barely. “She didn’t tell us where she was going next,” she said quietly. “But… she wasn’t well when she left. She collapsed two weeks ago. Low blood pressure. Stress.”

John exclaimed. We ditched the towels to obnoxious whistles and catcalls from the guys. I wore my yellow bikini, which accented my large breasts, flat stomach, and toned ass quite well. Years of playing soccer had really paid off. Although Riana was more petite than I was, her red bikini was no slouch either. It was a good color considering her features, namely her tanned skin, dark eyes, and long, brown hair. Riana could be described pretty much as your classic Latina beauty.

He shot out an arm and clamped his hand around my wrist. "Isabella, what is this madness? Don't make a scene." The pain sent me stumbling, and Amelia was instantly there, her hands steadying me with false kindness. "Donna, what happened to you? Please, don't embarrass the Don." She leaned in close under the guise of an embrace and whispered in my ear. "So clever, our Donna. Did you guess it was me who went there?" "Don't worry, those old paper files take up too much space. I'm helping you clean up, making some room for the family."