Lilian Garcia Nude Novels & Stories

She didn’t wait for him to speak. With a slow, defiant smile, Lila shrugged the blouse off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. The cool air of the lecture hall kissed her skin, making her shiver. She reached behind her back, unclasped her bra, and let that fall too. Her full, heavy breasts spilled free, nipples tight and aching. She kicked off her heels, then hooked her thumbs into her skirt and panties, sliding them down her legs in one smooth motion until she stood completely naked in the middle of his classroom.

he demanded. Having fully understood the purpose of the room she was in, Lila had worn the bare minimum today. It took no time to remove her crop top and toss it toward the door, followed by her sneakers and black yoga pants. She was horribly shy about standing before the wolf of her dreams in the nude, but that had everything to do with Thorne and his lurid gaze and not all that much to do with the nudity itself.

Then he saw her. Lila Moreau, 28, a local Creole artist whose paintings dripped with raw fucking, stood on a wrought-iron balcony. Caramel skin shining with sweat, wild dark curls plastered to her neck, full heavy tits barely contained by a tiny purple-and-gold dress already riding up her ass. Her hazel eyes locked on Nashoba through the crowd and her pussy clenched instantly, flooding her thighs. The hunger was immediate. Animal. Filthy. No words. Just primal need.

When I finally pulled out, she was a mess… mascara running, lips swollen and shiny. “Strip,” I ordered. Lila rose on shaky legs and peeled the sundress off. No bra. Just those full, perky tits with hard pink nipples begging to be abused. Her panties were already gone from earlier. She stood naked in front of me, thighs pressed together, pussy visibly dripping down her inner thigh. I shoved her backward onto my bed. She landed on her back, legs spreading instinctively. I climbed over her, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand while guiding my cock to her soaked entrance with the other.

There, they found Liliana sitting quietly in a chair, eyes closed, as the sea breeze played with her hair. “Babe!” Gerald called out. Liliana opened her eyes and looked at him. “Why are you calling me? Do you need something?” Gerald stopped in his tracks. She looked so calm, completely unaware of the scandal that was now all over the group chat. “N-Nothing, babe,” he stammered. Liliana tilted her head, then stood up and pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket. She gently wiped the sweat from his forehead. That’s when she noticed the faint kiss marks on his neck.

“We do this my way, then. And you will tell me if you are hurting, understood?” The hasty little, ”yes, yes," and the bobbing of her head told me all the things that I needed to know. She was aching as I was throbbing. In one fluid motion, I took off her dress and discarded it somewhere on the floor, unveiling her naked body. I have seen Lilliana bare so many times I could ever count, but every time it felt more beautiful and aesthetic than ever. As I arranged myself to sit between her legs and Lilliana being propped against the comfortable pillows, the vixen began to unbutton my shirt.

Lila Salvador sat in her fiancé's study, her naked right foot insolently propped on his desk, and her fingers painting her pretty toenails red. Her silky black hair had been left to flow down her back, and a corner of her gown had slid down one shoulder. She was on the phone, and held the device to her ear with her shoulder. If Paul had been there, he would have killed her for getting so comfortable in his space, but that was the thing... He wasn't there.

Soon, there was a knock from inside the bathroom. She stood up and walked in. The sight before her made her freeze in place. Marcus stood there with his shirt open, revealing his bare chest. Her breath caught in her throat. His toned muscles, the way the light caught the smooth contours of his skin… It was impossible not to notice. “What the hell?” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. Marcus, unfazed, simply looked at her. “I can button it myself,” he said. Lilian swallowed hard, forcing herself to look away. “Oh… okay,” she said awkwardly.

"Lift the sheet for me. Let me see." Lila's hands shook as she obeyed, pulling the fabric down to her waist again. Her tank top was askew, nipples peaked and visible through the thin material. Her panties were soaked, a dark spot betraying her. Marcus groaned low in his throat. "Look at you. So wet already. All because I walked in." She bit her lip, embarrassed and turned on beyond reason. "Show me how you've been doing it," he ordered softly. "Put your hand back where it belongs."

I asked as my eyes swept over her. She was carrying a white hand bag and was wearing a white crop top and a yellow mini skirt. The crop top was torn on the front, shoulder, and two sides, and the mini skirt was badly torn in the front. There were blood stains on the shirt but mostly on the skirt. My eyes went down her thighs and legs and I let out a gasp and covered my mouth with my hands cos there were trails of blood obviously from her privates down to her feet. In a flash, I relived the night Luther raped me, and recalled the way my clothes were badly torn with blood stains. Oh, my goodness! It seems Lilian has been raped.