Romans & histoires Jennifer Van Damsel Nude

Hundreds of candles flickered in the sand, and the bonfire roared higher than ever before. I was carried out of the villa on a golden litter by four crew members, completely naked except for the diamond collar locked around my neck and a thin golden chain that connected my nipples and clit. My body was already a masterpiece of debauchery, covered in fresh and dried cum, bite marks, handprints, and swollen, leaking holes from the previous days of nonstop use. Damien Sinclair waited for me at the center of the platform, wearing only white linen pants, his muscular chest bare. His five billionaire friends and the full crew of twenty men formed a wide circle around the platform, all of them nake

My panties were already damp. I removed my bra and panties last, standing completely naked before him except for my heels. My full breasts felt heavy, nipples stiff and aching. My shaved pussy glistened with fresh arousal. Damien drank in the sight, his cock straining hard against his pants. He pulled me up by my hair and bent me roughly over my own walnut desk. The cool wood pressed against my breasts as he kicked my legs apart. His large hand cracked down on my ass without warning—sharp, stinging slaps that made me cry out.

Nothing left to the imagination. Damien’s eyes dragged over my tits, my stomach, my thighs. He looked hungry--but in a rich kind of way. “Stand up. Take the rest off. Slowly.” I rose up, stepped out of the dress, then unhooked my bra. My nipples were stiff, aching, as they bounced free. I hooked my thumbs into my panties, pushed them down, and stepped out. Completely naked in front of him except for the heels. He stared for a long moment, then stood up too. Towering over me. He cupped one of my breasts, thumb brushing the nipple, then slid his hand down between my legs again, stroking my bare, dripping pussy.

Standing there in just her panties and his jewelry, she felt more exposed than she ever had. "All of it," Damien said. "I want nothing between my eyes and your skin." She hooked her fingers into the waistband of her panties and pushed them down. And then she was completely naked except for the necklace and earrings, standing in the middle of his study while he looked at her with an intensity that felt like being consumed. "Come here." She crossed to where he sat. "Kneel." Her heart hammered as she sank to her knees between his spread legs. "Tonight," Damien said, his hand sliding into her hair, "I'm going to teach you what it feels like to be worshipped. To have someone devote themselves ent

All I had to do was slip inside his office, plant the files, and disappear like a ghost. But the moment I pushed open the heavy door, everything fell apart. A woman’s raw, broken moan cut through the air. “Oh god, Damien… fuck, yes!” The huge floor-to-ceiling windows showed the glittering city skyline, but the real show was happening right in front of them. Damien Vale had a woman pinned against the glass. She was elegantly dressed, a wedding ring shining on her finger. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist, and her panties hung from one ankle. He stood behind her, pants open just enough, thrusting into her with hard, punishing strokes.

To the way his eyes stayed locked on me, dark and knowing. He caught me. “Problem, Nova?” His voice was low, amused, filthy. “You asked me to be naked. Now you can’t stop staring at my cock.” I flushed hard. “I… I’m trying to get the proportions right.” “Liar.” He smirked. “You’re wet just looking at it, aren’t you?” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Damien stood up slowly and walked toward me, completely naked, cock now fully hard and curving upward. He stopped right in front of my easel, so close I could smell his skin and the faint musk of his arousal.

Christiana's eyes widened a bit and she looked up at Damien whose eyes were literally in flames. "Mr. Fernandez I'm sorry. I didn't mean to enter your... " "Take... off your clothes! " Damien gritted and Christiana looked down in shame. With her hands shaking, she zips down her gown and let it fall to the ground, leaving her in only her pant and bra. She wrapped her hands around her chest in an attempt to cover herself. "Take everything off, Christiana.... everything.... " Tears flooded Christiana's eyes as she obeyed Damien without a word. Soon, she was now naked, completely.

A familiar face, a locked door, and a line between fantasy and reality that vanishes fast. Damien’s POV The room was dark except for the blue-white glow from my second monitor and the soft pink wash coming off the main screen. MaskedVixen was right in the middle of her Thursday night ritual: legs hooked over the arms of her velvet chair, black lace mask hiding everything above her nose, glossy lips parted while she worked the thick purple vibrator in slow, teasing circles against her clít. Her signature breathy moans filled my headphones and I had one hand wrapped around my côck, stroking in lazy rhythm with her movements. I was already close, balls tight, pré-cùm slicking my palm, when the

She commanded. No one moved. Her eyes glazed around and then she spoke. “Denise, come forward.” The blood walked forward, dipped her hand into the box and pulled out a paper. I waited, watching her unwrap it and she smiled. “It's not me.” “Amber,” the priestess called. The red Head climbed the stairs and picked a paper. She was shaking as she opened the paper and then spoke with a relaxed happy voice. “Not me, either.” Then the next one climbed and another until…