Freya Allen Nudes Novels & Stories

She dropped it on the floor before slowly… removing her underwear. Yes, he had already seen her naked body, but he’d never get tired of looking, touching, and tasting. She was beautiful. She was perfect for him. Freya had a very slender waist, which he adored. Her skin was soft and had that healthy glow. She had well-curved hips and long legs. And her breasts were just the right size for him… because he had big hands. The shower door remained half-open, still concealing Kenneth’s lower body. Freya stood before Kenneth and swallowed air. She looked nervous, but… willing. And that was more than enough for him.

Allie began, but Krista cut her off. "Do it," she said, "Don't tell me what it is, just do it." Allie's eyes pleaded for a chance to explain, but she was stuck. This was the game they were playing. Allie first got up on her knees in between Krista's leg. Her eyes were cast down and her hair hung over her face. Allie carefully untied her robe and let it slip off her shoulders. Krista's body ached when she saw Allie, naked and vulnerable, in front of her. She'd seen the girl naked before, but this was different, this was dripping with sexuality. Not to mention the fact that Allie had shaved, her pussy was completely bare.

In that moment, he knew there was no way back. Freya Lindberg, 28, a Norwegian photographer capturing the falls. Tall and elegant, with porcelain skin, long platinum-blonde hair, and those mesmerizing green eyes. Her body was a masterpiece — full, firm breasts, a narrow waist, and long, sculpted legs. She wore a sheer white dress that clung to her curves from the mist, leaving little to the imagination. Alexander approached her with calm dominance. “You don’t belong among the tourists,” he said, his voice deep and accented. “Come with me. My suite is private. The view is better… and I want to see what you look like when you’re truly exposed.”

"And your real soldiers are locked up in jail. Do you think Diego would die for you?" I stared at her, wondering what she was talking about. "What do you mean, woman?" She smiled, seeing that she had caught mi interest and she drew closer to me on the bed. "I would tell you all you need to know," Freya smiled. Her tongues slithered as she spoke. "Then tell me now," I urged on. "Not yet," She smiled. "It's been a long day and I need a massage." She dragged the zipper of her gown down and it fell off her slender body. Her long red hair cascaded down her back and as I stared at the nude body of the new form she had taken, I felt my member harden.

It made her imaginations run wild. In the dark and silent night, Freya stared at the picture on her phone. A wave of heat rushed up to her head. It was too sexy. Although he had seen his upper body naked that once when she went to look for him in the morning, it was just a glance. She could not stare openly like what she was doing to the picture at that moment. She observed his body closely and recalled that he did not have so many packs before. Has he been secretly working out recently?

Some still empty and some containing pictures of Freya from different angles. Some from her table at the event, some of her talking to Mr. Vasiliev’s daughter, and some of it with her walking to the restroom. The most disturbing one was a picture of Freya in her school uniform, only the shot was taken under her… making Freya’s underwear visible to the camera, as if the shot was taken under a staircase.

She said quietly. “You want to know why I am not grieving like a widow?” Her voice hardened as she lifted her chin up and said, “This is why. Watch closely, Dad. You will get all your answers!” Before anyone could stop her, Freya untied the black robe she was wearing and let it slide off her shoulders. She removed the long shirt and trousers too, leaving only a sleeveless top and shorts. I gasped, and so did everyone else. The temple was filled with sudden cries of disbelief.

“That depends on whether you remember which one of you is supposed to be losing control.” I laughed. “Definitely him.” “Then start acting like it.” She stood and walked toward her closet, and I immediately became suspicious. “What are you doing?” “Helping.” “That sounds dangerous.” Freya ignored me and searched through her clothes until she turned around holding a fitted racerback top and a pair of short athletic shorts. I stared at them. “Absolutely not. Those shorts barely exist.” “They cover everything important.” “For training?” “Tomorrow morning.” I laughed. “You want me to wear that in front of Cole?”

He had changed into a black button-down and dark trousers, but the hunger on his face was the same — darker now, more dangerous in the dim lamplight. He leaned against the door, eyes devouring her barely-covered body. “I told you I was coming. Take off the slip. Let me see what’s mine.” Freya’s heart hammered. This was real. This was her father’s best friend standing in her bedroom, ready to destroy her. The wrongness only made her wetter. She sat up slowly, peeled the silk slip over her head, and tossed it aside. Cool air kissed her naked skin — full breasts with tight pink nipples, soft stomach, wide hips, and the smooth, glistening folds of her pussy.

They seemed to be having a field day. “Allen,” I said when our eyes met. He looked away too quickly. Freya wore a sexy red dress. She got up, champagne flute in one hand, as her other hand suspended in the air like something was in it. She walked to me like this was a runway and stopped right in front of me. Her eyes ran all over my body in a mocking glare before she turned to the men littered around the room. “Allen,” she purred like a cat. “I am disappointed in your taste in women.” She leaned in and took a fistful of my hair, twirling it in her hand, eyes looking down at me with a sardonic glance. “Why would you like someone like her?”