Jessica Nigri Slip Novels & Stories

Melissa nodded and opened the door. “Jessica, you may come in.” A young woman walked in — clean black dress, neat bun, simple jewelry. Professional. Composed. No try-hard energy. No chaos aura. She sat down with perfect posture. Vivienne eyed her like a suspicious cat. “Jessica?” “Yes, ma’am.” “You’re the last candidate. That means you’re either a blessing… or another migraine.” Jessica smiled slightly. “I’ll try to be the first one.” Vivienne’s brow lifted.

While he was showering, Jessica slipped into the room, calling softly, “Richard?” She glanced toward the bathroom. “Oh, he’s in the shower,” she muttered. Her eyes fell on his trousers lying carelessly on the floor. “This man can’t even keep his clothes tidy,” she grumbled, picking them up. Then something small slipped out and dropped to the floor. Curious, she bent down—and froze. Her eyes widened as she stared at what she held between her fingers: a woman’s underwear. Her breath hitched, anger flooding through her veins.

"You just relax, I won't leave you like last night you left me, but I will make you scream until you go limp." You're finished Jessica, you won't be able to run anymore. "Darling. Ahhh!" TAP! Jessica's dress was forcibly ripped off by Morgan and now her baby blue bra is showing her breasts. "Wow, this is sexy baby." "Aaahhh!" Jessica's voice had already come out when her husband's naughty hands groped and stroked the surface of her breasts which were still covered by the baby blue panties that matched her top. "Aaahhh! Morgan." Jessica was going crazy as Morgan's fingers played over the surface of her breasts still clad in the fabric of her panties.

How would you like to punish me. Jessica's mouth dropped open as her clit began to throb deep between her legs. The sexual intention behind Miss Alice’s words wasn't lost on her. This wasn't real. It was a game. A sex game. “Pull up your skirt.” Were his sharp words. Jessica watched, hypnotized by the sight of the strong, seductive woman pulling her skirt over her thighs. She held her skirt around her waist, her creamy buttocks bared to the camera. She wore no underwear.

Then she whispered telling me since they wanted a show we should give them a show. Later, we changed into what they demanded. Jessica wore a red lace see through dress that clung to her curves like it had been stitched on her body. I went with black silk, slit high up my thigh, back bare. She curled my hair into a side part and let it fall down my shoulders while she did her hair in a ponytail. We applied makeup looking so sexy. We looked like bait. And maybe that’s all we were.

When she was leaning forward you could almost see her nice black slip. Suddenly Jennifer was grabbed at both hands at the same time. The stranger was holding her hands on the desk in front of her and was standing real close behind her. She could not move anymore. He was holding both hands with his left and putting his right hand between her legs. Before Jennifer could realize what was happening you could hear her slip being torn and falling to the ground.

Reluctant to part ways, they ran to each other and hugged affectionately, but people playing the roles of ruthless warriors tore them apart… The moment they were separated, the male dancer's hands that were drawn away from her shoulders moved suddenly. Jessica felt that her shoulder strap was slashed by something sharp, and her gauzy dress began to slip off in an instant… She was wearing an off-shoulder robe and a gauzy dress that relied on the strap to hold up… At that moment, Jessica was making a bending move. Her arms swung backward lightly and her waist protruded. Her curvy figure was demonstrated… When the dress slipped off, it was too late for her to cover her chest.

Finally she removed her pants revealing a net slitted thong and garters. Marks eyes widened as he took in the sight of Jessica. She was a sexy devil. The black lingirie set stood out against her white skin,making her look hot. She danced sexually and started to grind herself against him,parting his legs and rubbing her buttox in between. She leaned back and stole a kiss from his lips. A kiss he didn't want to break away from. She began to give him a lap dance. Something she has never done before but watched in movies. She hoped that her drunken self was doing it right.

A natural sub that she was, she gradually turned around as her fingers reached behind her back and pulled down the zip of her little black dress. Nothing turned-on a dominant like me than the willing, beautiful gift of submission from a woman like this. Taking the last sip of the drink, I plopped down the glass on the table beside the leather-clad couch. By now, the fabric slipped down from her body and pooled around her legs. Jessica stepped out of it and unclasped her bra deftly, letting it fall along with the recently discarded dress. Before she could take off that lacy red thong, I instructed, "Turn around and do it."

Someone else gave Daisy juice. Jessica couldn't remember who. Everything felt blurry. Like she was inside one of those dreams where things happened but none of it made sense. That night she listened carefully from bed. Waiting. Waiting for heavy boots on wooden floors. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. But she heard nothing. Only silence. And silence was beginning to scare her. --- Three days later Jessica wore a black dress she hated. It scratched her neck. Daisy hated hers too. "I look weird," Daisy whispered.