Kathy Baker Nude Novels & Stories

The Bratva contract looming in twenty-four hours. Kane's attacks escalating. The club preparing for war. "Okay," I said. "Two hours." I changed into a dress I'd packed weeks ago. Black. Simple. The kind of thing you wore when you wanted to feel like someone other than a biker's sister. Axel's eyes darkened when he saw me. "You look good." "You don't look so bad yourself," I replied. He'd cleaned up again. Different jacket. Nicer boots. We rode out at sunset.

I wasn't hurting anyone. I grabbed the laptop from the nightstand, top-of-the-line, of course and plugged it in, settling onto the edge of the bed. The screen flickered to life, and I clicked the only file on there. A video popped up, grainy at first, like old camcorder footage. It was them. Katherine and George, younger, college kids, maybe, laughing in a cramped dorm room. She was in a tiny tank top, no bra, nipples poking through as she pushed him onto the bed.

The moment Kathy stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but a lacy black bra and matching thong, my cock twitched so hard I nearly spilled my wine. She was a goddamn vision..thick, curvy, and built like every wet dream I’d ever had. Mid-forties, caramel-smooth skin glowing under the hotel lamp, wide hips that flared out dramatically into a massive, heart-shaped ass that strained against the thin fabric of her thong. Those cheeks were so full and juicy they jiggled with every step, the kind of ass that made you want to bury your face in it and never come up for air. Her heavy tits..easily double-Ds..threatened to spill out of the bra, the red lace barely containing them. Her nipples were alre

God, kitten, you're making this hard-on unbearable under the table. Emboldened, Katherine slipped into the bathroom for privacy, dropping the towel and snapping a quick, daring photo, her reflection in the mirror, one hand cupping her breast, the other trailing down her stomach toward the soft curls between her legs, lips parted in a sultry pout. She hit send, heart racing. Stacy called from outside. "What are you doing in there? Plotting world domination or just more dirty texts?" “Both!” Katherine called back, giggling as the reply came.

He starts to increase his pace, abusing her and she moans, slow and loud depending on his strokes. Kathy has been taken by Richard Ashford in many positions and he is not done with her yet. “Get on your knees!” he pushes her down, treating her like a whore that she is. Kathy is enjoying being treated like this and she takes all of his huge cock deep into her throat. His strokes deep inside her mouth increase and she can't help but gag at them.

Shoving the key she’d given me months ago into the lock, I barged into her apartment, door slamming against the wall. The sitting room was dim, lit only by flickering candles on the coffee table, their glow dancing across her naked body sprawled on the leather couch. Kathy lay there, legs parted, one hand lazily trailing over her stomach, the other propped behind her head, her curves a vision that stopped my breath. Her breasts heaved slightly, dark nipples already hard, her ass cushioned against the leather, skin glistening like she’d been waiting, ready. No clothes, no pretense, just raw, open invitation.

His hair was tied back as usual in a black satin ribbon, and the two pieces of black hair framing his upper face were in his eyes again. He was beautiful, and just one more thing Katherine wanted was that she couldn't have just one more person who didn't love her. It isn't fair. It just isn't fair! **** Tyler watched Katherine watch him before she took her sweatshirt off. She pulled it off slowly because of how wet it was. Once it was off it left behind a black spaghetti-strap cameo top that showed off Katherine's ample curvature.

There's always been speculation about my indifference to the women who threw themselves at me, especially here of late. No one knew that the badass biker king had given up his Cut so to speak, to a little half pint female no less. And the funniest part is that she has no idea. All that's about to change in the next few days though, and my dick can't wait to feel all that tightness. She'd better be fucking tight. Of course she is, she's my good girl, my babygirl. I laid my head back against the chair as I pictured her beneath me. There was no sense in trying to curb my thoughts; they always came back here.

Kathy's standing at the top of the stairs. She has a wine glass nestled in her left hand and I notice that she's barefoot. She's wearing a long red silk robe and her hair is down. Red tints her lips and cheeks. Her eyes are wild and seriously, she looks drunk. She's eyeing us with disgust. She's looking at the dead woman's body. She shakes her head as she says, "This is hell. I'm in hell! Don't you ever shut up?" She pauses then takes a step back. "Is that a dead person? Is she dead?"

Just this silence, a silence that gnawed at us, thick and suffocating. Teon and Knox paced the room like caged animals, worry lines etched deep into their faces. I observed these creatures, trying to distract my mind from the obvious. They were diminutive, horned and for some unknown reason, unclad. Their state of undress would have been of great interest to me, but for the situation we were in. My mind, once again, wanders to Cathy. My best friend who had chosen to sacrifice herself for me. This thought melts my heart and even though I do not believe in a God, I pray to Him that He brings her back safe. Her and her child.