Francesca Mills Nude Novels & Stories

He briefly considered checking his phone, but the girls emerged a minute later and walked over to where they would be filming and taking photos. "Okay," Camille said. "Here's what we'll start with." She started telling Sara what to do, and the girl responded well, still smiling widely and looking ridiculously cute. She started out dressed in a sexy schoolgirl outfit, plaid skirt and everything, and by the end, she was down to nothing but her skin. Duncan smiled when he saw that she'd cut a heart into her pubic hair. Camille spent another few minutes taking solo nudes of her and then looked over to where he was waiting.

The tension in the hall was electric. Francesca’s face twisted with rage. The elegant, composed woman from minutes ago had vanished. Her hands shook as she gripped the edge of the podium. Humiliation burned bright red across her cheeks. “You bitch,” she spat, stepping closer to me so only I could hear her next words clearly. “You think you’re so clever? Playing the victim in front of everyone? You have no idea what I’m capable of.” I smiled calmly, refusing to raise my voice. “I already know exactly what you’re capable of, Francesca. Drugging a man. Forging documents. Staging scenes like a cheap actress. All because you couldn’t accept that he never wanted you the way he wanted me.”

In one swift action, I swept her off her feet and her to the sofa at the corner of her room. I dropped her, and we both began removing all the clothes that stood in the way of pleasure. In less than a minute, we were both standing naked in front of each other. I admired and drooled over Francesca's huge, fresh, supple lemons. I got her close to me and began sucking on it, causing her to moan in lust and pleasure. I sucked on them and played with them until I was satisfied. Francesca admired the look of hunger that filled I eyes. She loved it as I eyed her body from her beautiful hair and face to her fetish-worthy toes, admiring her flawless skin and every other package that came with it.

Sandra refuted. "but I will." Francesca taunted, dropping her legs. "you can't." "What makes you think I can't?" "you've got no proof, baby." Sandra said with a sly smile. Francesca's face froze. "How do you know there's no proof?" "I don't see a phone in your hand. I don't see a pocket in your dress either, and from the angle you stepped in, there is absolutely no fucking way you could have gotten a clear and conscice picture of us."