Erin Brockovich Nude Novels & Stories

Considering everything Janice had confessed to Tom that night, Brook wondered if he might have even told her that her daughter had been there watching them. The way things had been going the past few days, Brook was feeling impossibly horny, and it felt like it was never going to go away. Not caring if her parents came home suddenly and caught her sunbathing topless, she took off her bikini top and lay back again. It wasn't long before her hand found its way into her bikini bottom to stroke along the moistening lips of her warm pussy.

Hit send. And that was that. Until thirty seconds later, when my screen lit up again. Dr. Stacy Cole: Beth… I’m fairly certain that’s not the screenshot you meant to send me. My stomach dropped. “What?” I whispered, blinking at the screen. I opened the message chain. There—clear as day—was a high-resolution nude. My nude. Not raunchy. Not pornographic. Just… artistic lighting. Soft curves. A bedroom mirror moment I’d snapped weeks ago on a day I felt unusually hot.

In that moment, Vito Falcone shattered. ... Heavily pregnant, I dragged myself across the floor, crawling toward the heavy steel door. Just as the heavy door slammed shut with a deafening bang, my fingers were caught in the jamb. I heard the sickening crunch of bone. A fresh wave of agony ripped through me, overwhelming the torment of the drug. A piercing scream tore from my throat. But Vito's mind was entirely on Scarlett. He was deaf to my cries. Suddenly, warm fluid leaked down. I knew my water had broken.

We all shower in this locker room daily- it shouldn’t be a big deal. I toss my towel onto the bench, toeing off my mud-caked gym shoes. I pull my shirt off overhead, drop it on top of my shoes. Then, hesitantly, I glance over at Brooke. She’s shimmying out of her yoga pants, revealing those long, tan legs. She’s still got her t-shirt on, but I can see the bottom of her bare ass cheeks skimming underneath the hem. Fuck, she’s got a great ass. Brooke looks over her shoulder, her eyes meeting mine.

“Sun will be going down soon.” Now he grabbed the long-dead Tits by the ankles and dragged her away from the others. Unlike them, she was naked, her flesh so pale it’d turned a darker blue, save for the green of the stomach and the patches of purple near the armpits and clouding the feet. He tested her arm. It was stiff and cold, but still moved. “Fucked up, man.” “Not our problem, dip shit,” Brody said as he walked to the window.

Brett was so happy for the freedom of Broderick. In a jiffy, Brett pulled over the car at one of Broderick's house. It was the same house that Broderick had taken Amy too where they almost had sex in the pool many months ago. Broderick went inside the bathroom, brushed his teeth and bathed with warm water. He had not even bathed since his arrest. He dried himself up in a towel, combed and got dressed in his suit. Suit is his favorite dress. He then stepped out but needful to say, his body still ached him.

Brooke and Libra were dressed similarly. Red and khaki almost 'short-shorts', white/yellow bikini tops under white wife-beaters covered with a denim shirt (sleeves rolled up) and white cargo short-sleeved shirt, tennis socks and canvas shoes. In a way, I was a victim of my own success. Both ladies wanted to fuck me bad, but their desire to prove to me I was more than a fuck toy meant I didn't get sex at my place. If you are a girl, that will make much more sense.

I spot Brock right away and make my way over to him, where he’s standing with two females. Brock’s one of the five guys that runs the training camp. He looks like a young Jason Momoa, with long brown hair, tanned skin, and tattoos all over his chiseled chest and arms. He’s really nice to look at, but he’s tough. He pushed us to the brink yesterday with planks and squats, and his no-nonsense demeanor is all business. The two women with him are chatting, but he’s just standing there silently. I recognize one of the women as another trainee, and I’m surprised when she sticks her hand out toward me as I approach. Cautiously, I take it.

As if a child was playing around, the finger that had been irregularly jabbing the inside spread wide left and right like tongs. I hated hearing the squelching sound through the spread opening. “You can’t do that, brother.” “Ah—!” At that moment, my vision went white. As the finger thrust deep inside, white semen spurted up to my chest and under my chin. “You come every time I thrust. Isn’t it hard?” What had been scratching the inside at high speed slipped out. …Just when I was about to breathe a sigh of relief thinking it had finally stopped. “…!”