Jamal Murray Nudes Novels & Stories

My body answers instantly, heat pooling low, my pussy still tender and slick from the last round. “You keep looking out there like you’re thinking about running,” he murmurs against my ear, voice low and rough. One big hand slides under the hem of the shirt, cupping my full breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers until it’s aching. “But we both know you’re not going anywhere tonight.” I arch back into him, grinding my ass against his cock. “Who said anything about running? I want you to ruin me, Jamal. Make it filthy.” He spins me around fast, lifting me onto the wide windowsill. The cool glass presses against my ass and back as he drops to his knees right there, shoving the shirt up t

When I pulled out, I slapped my heavy cock across her cum-covered face and looked her dead in the eyes. “You’re the neighborhood slut now, Monica. Never tease a man again.” She lay there panting, covered in seven loads of cum, my nightstick still stuffed in her pussy. I looked down at her ruined Catholic uniform and smiled. I leaned over her and asked, “You ever had big black cock before?” My partner, Jamal — a 24-year-old beast with an 11-inch cock as thick as a beer can — stepped forward with a sadistic grin. I already knew which hole he was going for.

She had sure been tampering with her pussy, which looked swollen and gushing. Mira was holding her phone up, clearly taking pictures with her tits and pussy open. "What the fuck are you doing, you nasty bitch? " I asked, sauntering over with a huge smile on my face. My own cunt was starting to throb just watching her like this. Why wouldn't it?? Mira had a gorgeous body, and when she had her pussy open like that, it was a banger. "Sending my nudes to one of my sponsors." She shot back, clicking more photos.

Kimberly muttered something about vomiting under her breath, while I gawked at Jude, silently wondering how deep his insanity truly ran. “Okay.” He stood to his feet and ripped his t-shirt off. Ink cascaded down hard bands of muscle, coating damn near every inch of his skin. The only open space was right above his heart, a blank canvas itching to be filled. I was just drunk enough to not look away when his pants hit the ground. Ho-ly fuck. Jude, naked as the day he was born, stretched his arms high above his head. His eyes flicked down to my face, then lower to my open mouth. Heat seared my cheeks as I clicked it shut, but it was too late. He’d already noticed.

I felt weak in the knees and fell to the ground. Another vision flashed before my eyes. This time it was Jamal. He was in a prison cell, being tortured with a silver whip. A guard prepared to stab him with a silver knife, to end his life. "He is now worthless to Atticus, since Deucalion has already gotten Issa. Jamal will also meet his end soon," Andrea explained. I shook my head. "Please, don't do this. Let's stop this." "Oh you know what I want." Andrea slowly stood up.

I interrupted Murray. Jamal smirked when he noticed how Murray flinched. "My friends and I were thinking if you are a masseur. Your face strikes me like you are one. I'm in dire need of such service and was hoping you can render such service." I had no idea where that came from. Murray's eyes widened while Jamal was surprisingly quite calm amid the brouhaha. My friends were slapping the table with their hands while holding their stomachs, bringing the boys' attention to them.

When she woke up the next morning, he was nowhere to be found on the bed. "Of course he left for…" Her words were cut short by the sound of the bathroom room door opening. She turned to look and her eyes almost fell off from their sockets when she saw Jamal walking out of the bathroom, with just his towel tied around his waist. His chest was bare and his eight packs were screaming "touch me!". There was steam flying all over his body and the way the water droplets trickled down his well toned muscles and apps made her swallow dryly. His hair was wet and ruffled and a few wet strands fell down his forehead almost concealing his left eye brow.

Jamal asked me and I looked up at him for I had been staring at the beautiful lake, deep in thought. Jamal was a lean man with lean muscles and long black hair which he tied up in a ponytail always. He was a fine man who paid extra attention to every part of his body. His fingernails were well-trimmed and one of his ears was adorned with a diamond ring. His wolf was also beautiful, a black furry wolf with beautiful features. I envied him a lot.

She clicked through to his page. There weren't many posts. Noah clearly wasn't the type to document his life in real time. But what was there made her stomach do something complicated. A photo from maybe six months ago. Him at the gym, shirtless, mid workout. Sweat gleaming on his shoulders and abs, muscles defined in a way that should be illegal. He wasn't posing, wasn't even looking at the camera. Someone had caught him mid rep and he looked focused, intense, completely unaware he was being photographed.

After that, I would be far away from his life. His hands slide towards my panties and he pulls them off my feet. “Fucking gorgeous.” He muttered. My hands went over to Jamal’s shirt and I started to unbutton them. Until he was stark naked and we were both checking each other out with no shame. I let my hands roam over his tussle muscles and hard chest and trace every line with my fingers down to his perfect V curves. My hands slide down touching his cock. His hands clasped against mine and pushed my back gently on the bed.