Francesca Mills Nude Novels & Stories

Catherine snorts derisively, "Then what is he doing here if he can't prepare a birthday party?" ​The bedroom is simple. The walls are cream colored and the door is white. In the corner of the room are two white beds. Francis traces his fingers down the fine tailored navy blue suit and trousers as he admires his reflection in the mirror. Melissa steps out of the bathroom with a stunning white long gown. ​"Wow, you look stunning." Francis compliments Melissa's dress. Melissa feigns a smile as she walks over to her makeup vanity table filled with creams, beautifying products and jewelry. She sits down and picks up a lip gloss. She carefully applies it on her thin lips. She looks at Francis' ref

“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

I trembled as my breasts came into view. I had no bra on, my round boobs spilling out. My black hair tumbled down to my right tit. The dress fell down my body. I had no panties on, either. My pussy freshly shaved. I wanted to be a p**n star so badly. Mother would have a fit if she saw me. There was no way that woman who looked like Mom in the gloryhole videos was her. No way at all. "So, let's see you are a virgin," Mrs. Miller cooed and dropped to her knees. She buried her face into my pussy as Niku moved in to get a close-up.

"Amelia darling!" I hear Francesca's silky voice call out the instant I step foot into the small upmarket boutique. Her body looks like a replica Barbie, completely on display in a tight pair of black bike shorts and and Gucci top with a belt secured tightly to her tiny waist. She wraps me in a hug as she continues to speak.

"I will in a moment, first of all, I have a surprise for you. So put the iPad down on the bed, so you can't see for a minute, I'll tell you when you can look. Gabriel and Nick looked at each other and then put the device screen down on the bed. Millie jumped out of bed and placed her iPad on the bedside table. She took the hem of her stripey night-shirt and pulled it over her head, turning she checked her appearance in the full-length mirror. Millie laughed as she looked at her outfit. The shiny black PVC corset baring her breasts, her nipples pebbled in the cooler air, feeling instantly tight. She shivered with pleasure causing her breasts to jiggle. The corset ended at her hips, with suspe

•CAMILLA• “My God, can you believe what’s trending?” Francesca scoffed as I walked into the living room and found her on her laptop. “What is it?” I asked, sitting down with my bowl of cereal. “Sasha Ross,” she looked at me. “She told the journalists that she left the Parus shopping store because two women were invading her privacy and making her uncomfortable. She called us opportunists.” I rolled my eyes with a sigh. “Well, I hope she’ll leave Chicago soon before we bump into Lucius. I don’t want to see him.”

The henchmen released his grip on Francesca’s hair, dipped the gun into his holster, and grasped her two arms back. "Let go of me," Francesca demanded as she struggled to wiggle out of his grip. Another man approached Francesca and tore her garments in half, causing her huge breast to bounce out free in a jiggle. He took hold of the waistband of her pants and pulled them down from her waist all the way down to her leg, displaying her lovely, trimmed pussy for everybody to see. Francesca was mortified as she stood completely exposed in front of everyone's gaze. She tried to wrap her arms around herself to conceal her nakedness, but the man behind her restrained her by tightly gripping her arm

Nothing immediately stood out–until I saw a folder labeled Emilia. My stomach clenched as I reached for it. Flipping it open, I expected to see outtakes from the shoot. Instead, I found something worse—secrets. Photos that had nothing to do with modeling and everything to do with blackmail. The first image stopped me cold. Francesca, wrapped around an infamous therapist to the elites. His name alone was scandalous, tied to more than a few high-profile breakdowns. And beneath the photos, a mention of a video. My pulse hammered.

Jessica huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, which only serves to push her breasts up. ‎Francis doesn't even look embarrassed. "Hi, I'm Francis. I’ve... I've always admired you from the window," he stammers. "I’ve spent hours imagining you naked every time you go on a run. I’m a painter, Jessica. Seriously. Do you have any idea how your curves are built? Would you... would you let me do a nude portrait? I’d pay. No face, just... the body. It’ll be a masterpiece." ‎Jessica huffs a laugh. "Does your girlfriend know you’re hitting on her arch-enemy while she’s in the shower? Or is the 'art' just an excuse for you to be a creep?”