Eleanor Matsuura Nude Novels & Stories

ELARA I felt a strange mix of excitement and power as Mateo and I walked out to the private pool just half an hour after the rain had finally stopped. The air was still damp and fresh with that clean smell that comes after a storm. I wore a small red bikini that showed a lot of my skin while Mateo was shirtless in black shorts that hung low on his hips. His muscles looked strong and beautiful under the soft sunlight with drops of water still shining on his shoulders and chest from the light rain earlier. I could not stop staring at him. My eyes kept moving over his arms and stomach and the way his body moved when he walked. I reached out and touched his chest with my fingers feeling the warm

She dropped the food on the table and left. I pushed my paper work aside and started eating. I had barely touched my food when my phone buzzed. A message from Matteo. No text. Just a folder of pictures. I swiped them open with one hand. There were several photos of Elena just like I had instructed him. I opened one of the photos, she stood in the middle of the gallery, dressed in black, her hair packed in a bun. Smiling. She seemed alive. I zoomed in to another of the photo.

Something far purer and divine. Sometimes, you find yourself so taken by the beauty of something that you lose yourself staring at it, and that was Eleanor's nakedness to me. I leaned back and watched, taking all I saw in with a sort of euphoria. The view of her expectant body lying across the bed had an effect on me, a once in a lifetime experience. Her white skin and the pink that showed elsewhere was almost ethereal in the moonlight coming through the window, and that valley that was her stomach, hiding between the slopes that were her hips. There was the pink warmth she had bared to me, and as I took this all in, I was simply stunned by her.

Echo is driving him. I switch to another feed. User: SilkRose. A woman at a gym in Tokyo. She’s on an elliptical, her face flushed, biting her lip. She’s looking around nervously, hand fluttering near her waistband. I know that look. I know that heat. "They are beautiful, aren't they?" the fragment whispers. "Lost in the loop. You can participate, Mia. You don't have to just watch." My hand drifts to my own thigh. I’m wearing yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt. Underneath, I’m naked.

We still have the other rogue in the cells. I finally saw her naked, and let me say, I wanted to take her against a tree and claim her. She is fucking gorgeous. She has the body of a fighter with the curves of an hourglass. Her breasts were gorgeous and her nipples were light pink and taut. She definitely is used to working out because she has abs. They are not defined like a man’s body, but they are there peeking through and it’s gorgeous. Her thighs are thick and muscular in the most feminine of ways and I can see the curve of her ass, perfectly round. I suddenly didn’t want anyone else seeing her body, so I stood in front of her. I was trying my best to maintain composure, but I am glad w

Down to his topless body, where his abs were perfectly defined, as if inviting and tempting her. After a moment, Eleanor shook her head to bring herself back to reality, then immediately looked away. "I'm going out," she said. She was about to stand up when she realized she was still naked. Heat crept onto her face again. Where were her clothes? "Sure, anyway. We have somewhere to go. I already had Manang Paula prepare what you'll wear," he said, facing his mirror and applying wax to his hair. Eleanor swallowed. How could she go out? Her clothes were gone—she couldn't just leave naked.

The humiliation, the degradation, the sheer audacity of it all, seemed to fuel her, transforming her from a shy, lonely woman into a brazen, demanding slut. One evening, the camera was set up in the living room, facing the worn sofa. Eleanor sat there, naked, her massive body spilling over the cushions. Her breasts, enormous and heavy, hung low, her nipples dark and engorged. Her belly, a soft mountain of flesh, jiggled with every breath. Her pussy, a dark, inviting slit, was already glistening. Mark sat in an armchair opposite them, the camera resting on a tripod, a small monitor displaying the live feed. He held a remote, his fingers hovering over the record button.

What was really in her mind when she decided to speak to this woman? “You would be surprised on how real they can get.” The reverence in Margarette’s voice pushed the girl to change the topic at hand “Anyway, what do you want to show me again?” Fortunately, that completely shifted the lady’s attention, “Oh, right. I almost forgot. Give me your hand.” Although doubtful, Ellaine offered her hand. The other held it gently as if holding something delicate and fragile. She traced every line and curve with her fingertips and breathed onto it as if she’s whispering some sort of enchantment.

Sometimes I wish everybody could think what I am thinking but it would be embarrassing if I’d think about pooing whenever a fart all of the sudden just comes out. “So what kind of enchant did you just learned?” Miss Mata says while walking closer and sat beside me. She looked like a goddess wearing a simple white gown with pearls all over, with her dark skin, braided hair and peach colored lips, she looked gorgeous which made me wonder—of all the men in the world, why is Miss Mata still single? “What?” I shook my head blinking my eyes twice and faced her. “You were murmuring something.” “I am? I did? Uhhm. . .”

I watched Mr Mattias take off his shirt, then his jeans. He's eyes fixed on mine. “Take off your towel,” Mr Mattias commanded. One that I couldn't refuse. I took off my towel, standing naked before him. My breathing was heavy, heavier than it should be. I watched Mr Mattias's eyes run down to my nipple. A sly smile crossed his lips.