Francesca Fargo Nude Novels & Stories

he added as he raised the wine glass he was holding with only red wine. This is really our problem. I sure was nervous but the eagerness and determination to end this was more powerful than the fear that I felt inside and thought about this night might break me again and run away. I wanted to be brave. "Excuse me," Francesca said politely with one hand covering her mouth and the other on her stomach after she pushed a plate of food away before standing up. She hurried to get inside the women's restroom. It looked like she's going to puke.

I could barely contain my smile as I heard the women bang repeatedly against the door, begging to be let out. “What is going on here?” I heard suddenly and turned my attention to Francesca. “What happened to you?” I blurted. She looked nothing like the woman who was fighting to spend the night with Declan. Her neck was designed with claw marks, her eyes were red with eye bags and she looked like she'd been through hell. “None of your business!” She retorted sharply, pushing her hair forward to hide the marks. I wondered if her body had those marks as well because she was wearing a thick long sweater.

She basked in it, wearing his degradation like a crown. She dragged a single finger down her cheek, collecting the evidence of his weakness, and popped it into her mouth with a satisfied hum—watching him the entire time, daring him to react. “Mmm,” she sighed with exaggerated pleasure. “Still tastes like my boy.” Francesca smeared it across her face like war paint, eyes locked on his, as if daring him to look away. She dragged her fingers down her cheek, slick with him, and popped them into her mouth one by one, sucking with obscene pleasure, her eyes rolling back as though she'd been starving for this moment her entire life.

She's the last person I want to see right now, not only because she irritates the shit out of me but her runaway mouth could spill the secret that I'm desperate to keep from Nortica. “Francesca,” I greet her, my heart racing, knowing that at any moment my world could implode. “Good morning Nora,” Francesca greets Nortica, bestowing the fakest smile. “It’s Nortica,” My Goddess corrects the bitch, not even bothering to look up from the menu. “Of course it is,” Francesca replies, looking at me and rolling her eyes. “What are you two doing here? Together?” Francesca is smart, she's built a career out of catching cheating spouses in their lies so I have no doubt she’s already pieced together what

“I don’t have to pose for long hours? Because you know I can.” He chuckled. “That’s too old-fashioned. No one does that now when she can just paint your picture. France is an excellent fine artist, and I don’t want you to become numb from exhaustion. I need your strength later,” he teased, smiling. My cheeks flared, and I felt my nipples harden. I understood his signal. I cleared my throat. “Okay. I got it.” “Come on. I’ll take you to my study.” Francesca was already taking test shots on an exquisite wildflower arrangement on Aztec ceramic pottery and a bench seat cloaked with white sheets with her camera. She wore a very casual shirt, jeans, and sneakers, but she was still as stunning as I

No matter what I said, Francesco wouldn't believe me at all. "Someone put all these photos up," he ordered. "I'll personally hold an auction for Mrs. Greco today." My eyes widened, and my body was shaking with terror. Sure enough, when I looked up, my nude photos were displayed on the big screen. The nudity and my suggestive expressions sparked immediate whispers among the crowd. When we had been madly in love, he'd coaxed me into taking these photos. He had promised he would keep them safe, yet now he'd turned that promise into a weapon against me.

My stomach churned simply at the sight of it. Francesco opened his eyes and saw me. He bit his lips then he increased his voice, louder than before. He gyrated his hips on the sofa before he grabbed the blonde’s head and bumped it up and down faster. Francesco never took his eyes off mine. The pleasure he got from the blonde seemed to be the best he had gotten in his entire life. His breathing grew rapid all of a sudden while he moaned non-stop. He threw his head backward and a few seconds later, he pushed the blonde off before he pulled her up violently.

My fingers kept moving, faster and deeper. “You’re so beautiful when you touch yourself,” she said, standing there watching me. “Look how wet your little pussy is. So pink and hungry. Keep going, cara. Make yourself cum.” Her words pushed me over the edge. I cried out, my body shaking hard. My pussy squeezed around my fingers again and again as a powerful orgasm ripped through me. I kept moaning, thighs trembling, juices dripping everywhere. When I finally calmed down, Francesca took the phone from my weak hand. She smiled proudly.

Carmel cast her a worried glance, quickly wrapping a bathrobe around Francesca's naked form. "Let's go," Francesca said, facing the full-length mirror beside the king-sized bed. She cringed at the marks on her throat, the evidence of her painful night with Stefano. "Cheska," Carmel murmured behind her, "You're the bravest woman, I know. You know that, right?" Francesca nodded, unable to smile anymore. She would like to think she was. Truly. But it was getting harder to believe in it each passing day.

She had seen more explicit images in her life, but to see Solange at the center of them was disconcerting… and arousing. The photos featured Solange at their center. In every one she had a haughty expression and was seated on a large chair. She wasn’t naked, but her breasts were bared, emphasized by a corset-like garment. As far as Fia could tell, it was the only thing the woman was wearing. There were various poses, none of them displaying her pussy because her legs were crossed; it was the one classy thing about the pictures.