Lyna Perez Desnuda Novels & Stories

Her hips bucked helplessly; a broken cry tore from her throat. Another tendril circled her left breast and coiled tight, and squeezed in rhythmic pulses while the glowing tip sealed over her nipple and sucked hard, like a greedy mouth. The third did the same to her right breast. The fourth hovered in the air, waiting. Helios knelt between her spread thighs. “Look at the screen, Lina,” he commanded. She couldn’t help it. The camera angle was perfect, high enough to catch her entire bound body, close enough to show every tremble, every bead of sweat, every desperate clench of her cunt.

I had to make things right, but the thought of facing her and seeing the hurt in her eyes made me feel uneasy. The first lady came forward, her name was Lia or Lisa, or something of the sort. She was in very revealing lingerie. The lingerie was a deep red color, made of a sheer and delicate lace material. It was a two-piece set, consisting of a barely-there thong and a matching bra. The bra had thin straps that wrapped around the neck, leaving the majority of the back exposed. It had delicate cups that barely covered the nipples, held up by thin straps that criss crossed in the back. The thong was just as scanty, with a thin strip of fabric that barely covered the hips and a thong back. The

“Take off your panties and get rid of the covers, Lara. If you want this, you can’t keep hiding from me.” With trembling fingers, I pull my underwear down, the cotton fabric sliding over my knees and down to my feet. I kick it away, feeling bare and exposed under his intense gaze. The duvet is next, and as I push it away, a cool rush of air meets my heated skin. I feel so vulnerable lying there, entirely naked, in front of his eyes. What if he thinks my breasts are too small? I’m not as voluptuous as tiny little Lydia or soft as sexy Sally. I have abs and muscles, but I lack curves.

His eyes were burning hot now as he looked at the woman's body in front of him. The woman tried to cover her naked body with her hands, one arm covering her breasts and the other hand covering her delicate part, her head bowed looking down the floor, crying softly. She felt embarrassed being nude in front of the man, who claimed her as "HIS". He gets closer to her and pinched her chin, held up to look up at him but she closed her eyes. "Look at me! on my eyes, Yaze Cruz!" the man, Lexter Montero commanded pinching her chin harder.

Anyone with a good view or a pair of binoculars could potentially see the expansive deck and the gleaming pool. Elena stood at the edge of the water, completely naked, her body still bearing faint marks from the night before — light bruises on her hips from Damian’s gripping hands, reddened patches on her ass from his possessive spanks, and a constellation of hickeys across her breasts and inner thighs. Her skin glowed with a fresh tan and the sheen of sunscreen mixed with sweat. She felt exposed, vulnerable… and incredibly alive.

"I had some morning business to attend to, so I didn't promise to come along. Are you going to see Nala?" Lina was about to agree but got a call from the nanny, reporting that Persephone was crying and wanted her mother. Lina sighed and shrugged. "Looks like I can't go. But I came to check on Nala. It's okay as long as she's in a better mood." "Sure. Take care of Persephone!" Lina said goodbye without suspicion. Sasha watched her leave with a smirk, then turned to the mirror. Her reflection was identical to Lena in every way—figure, height, even her voice.

Palm fronds clattered softly in the night breeze. Layla Reyes had come alone. Thirty-four, recently single after a long, quiet unraveling of a relationship that had stopped feeling like home years before she left it. She was tall, sun-kissed, with shoulder-length black hair that curled at the ends from the salt air, dark eyes that caught light, and a body that moved with the easy confidence of someone who had learned to take up space without apology. She wore a simple black bikini during the day and, tonight, a thin white linen dress that tied at the neck and fell loose to mid-thigh—nothing underneath, because the heat made anything more feel like punishment.

Flora was really shy about undressing, but hearing her sister’s past, I was patient. I sat in the chair next to the tub, heating the water up, as she walked over. “I’m ready…” I looked up at her. She was covering her chest and vigina. Her shoulders were scrawny. You could see each bone clearly. Her collarbone looked like it was sucking in her skin. Her rib bones showed on her ribcage. Her hips were so visible, it looked like she did not have any fat. She had a small belly… Barely there. I was not disgusted at her, but at the way she came to look this way.