Kathryn Newton Nudes Novels & Stories

Kyle was still watching boring soccer, so I got my stuff and headed for the shower in my robe. There was one other girl in there, about Kyle's age. Nude, getting ready to shower, and not the least shy. Mid five foot, and she had an amazing body. I've never seen a woman naked. I mean in p**n, but not in real life. This girl was perfect. Curvy, tall, big, I mean BIG breasts, a shaved pussy, and no trace of tan lines. Wow. Blonde hair and blue eyes, of course. I felt like a turd on a plate next to filet mignon.

I froze. Staring back at me was Katherine, the mysterious ex-girlfriend I'd been so curious about. She was even more stunning than I'd imagined. Long blonde hair, piercing eyes, and a smile that lit up her entire face. Alexander had his arm around her waist, looking at her with an expression I'd never seen on his face before. I swiped again, unable to stop myself. More photos. Katherine in a bikini on a yacht. Katherine and Alexander at some gala, her in a red dress that hugged every perfect curve. Katherine asleep in what looked like Alexander's bed, the sheets barely covering her naked body.

When she pulled off with a pop, a string of spit connected them. “Come closer,” Lena said softly. “You can see better from the couch.” Kira moved on unsteady legs, perching on the edge of the couch just feet away. The scent of them—musky arousal and Keith’s clean sweat—made her dizzy. Keith pulled Lena up and untied her robe, letting it fall. Lena was gorgeous naked: full breasts with dark pink nipples, soft stomach, shaved pussy already slick. She straddled Keith on the couch, facing Kira, and sank down onto him inch by inch. Both women moaned at the same time—Lena from the stretch, Kira from the sight.

But that wasn't what made her breath hitch. On the walls were paintings. And not just any paintings. Paintings of naked bodies engaging in nasty things. One big canvas, held a hyper realistic painting of a woman on her knees, throat bulging around a thick black cock. Another painting was a muscled man on all fours, face slack as two men were slammed inside his ass and mouth. The biggest piece was a woman sprawled on a huge bed covered in red drapes, legs spread wide, a fat prick was buried in her slick pussy.

It’ll work. — No, not enough, find me a woman in the same cell, I want an enraged one. A desperate one. Someone who has nothing left. Promise her that I will pay her debts. That she can have fun. Unleash herself. That she can make her swallow every word, every breath. — Got it, you want a hungry hyena. I can do that. — And I want the photo. Send it to me as soon as it's done. — Received.

She looks effortless. And then it hits me. I know that face. I’ve seen it a dozen times. In vogue covers, billboards. And that one Calvin Klein campaign where I may or may not have paused a little too long. I force my features neutral, schooling them into casual disinterest even though my inner voice is squealing like a teenager at a boy band concert. Kathryn, as well, is the picture of effortless chic—striped linen shirt tucked into matching shorts, gold sandals, and glasses perched on her nose like she just stepped out of a yacht catalog.

Completely naked. What the hell?

Beneath her gown, Katie Medina, GHS's now-former It girl, was completely and totally naked. It was all of her almost exactly like I, and any hetero male at GHS, had imagined. (And we had all imagined.) A little bit thin, a little bit tall, and every single last piece of her about her just so goddamn cute you wanted to fuck it individually. She was almost the exact midpoint between Tabitha and Taylor. Tall, but not towering. Thin, but not skinny. Dark roots, but the bulk of her dyed pale blonde. Toned, but with all sorts of well-placed curves. Big tits, yet almost exactly one hair shy of being so big they distracted from the rest of her. A habitual smile from a lifetime of people who'd been u

Under her command, many innocent people lost their lives but she was still walking on her path. There was a medical report too. It was clearly stated that Athena is infertile. She can't bear children. Celestine was shocked by this new discovery but this is not the time to cry and show weakness. She sends a thank you to Peter and starts proceeding with her plan.

"Your dear Lyon has skeletons in his closet. And I mean real, dirty, unforgivable ones." Kathryn's hands trembled slightly as they gripped the edge of the table. She wanted to speak, to protest, but Wendy’s icy demeanor kept her frozen in place. Wendy placed her coffee cup down with a deliberate clink. "I don’t think you fully understand, Katy. That picture I showed you? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. There’s more. Much more." "What more?" Kathryn finally managed to ask, her voice wavering despite her attempt to sound firm.