Leslie Mann Nude Gif Novels & Stories

My gaze flicked to my phone again. And then, an idea struck. I smirked, a slow, wicked curve of my lips. If he wouldn’t talk to me, then I’d send him something he couldn’t ignore. Something that would make his blood boil. I scrolled through my camera roll, fingers steady as I pulled up the fresh video. Leslie and I. Tangled together, bare skin on bare skin. The sheets a mess around us. Her lips on my throat, my nails digging into her back, our bodies moving in perfect, breathless rhythm.

“Somebody making small batch ice cream in funky flavors.” Leslie joined us back at the property. She was a chunky lesbian who wore T-shirts with aggressive slogans, which contrasted with her beautifully manicured and polished set of fingernails, which she kept up with regular visits to a nail salon on Washington Avenue staffed by a bunch of Peruvian sisters and cousins. She was a combination of tough girl, Long Island Jewish princess, and funky artist. Her T-shirt that day featured a picture of Marie Antoinette and the slogan, Let them eat shit.

"Babe, your life is literally giving telenovela right now! Forbidden lust, accidental nudity, billionaire employer. All you need next is a dramatic slap scene." "That already happened yesterday." "Oh, shit," Chelsea laughs. "Right, I forgot." "It's not funny!" I protest. "It's hilarious!" she says between giggles. "But seriously-think about it. If you can't get him out of your head after seeing him naked, there's no way he's forgotten you either. He's a man, Auri. He saw a gorgeous, completely naked woman pleasuring herself-he's probably still replaying it on loop." I open my mouth to argue, but then pause. Her words actually... make sense.