Mark Thomas Nudes Novels & Stories

I blink against the light, my vision swimming, and finally see them. Five men, surrounding the bed, all gorgeous in different ways. The one fucking my pussy is dark-skinned and muscular, with kind eyes that contrast with the brutal way he's pounding into me. The one in my mouth is younger, blonde, watching me with worship in his gaze. Two others stand nearby, stroking their cocks, waiting their turn. And in the corner, in a leather chair, is Thomas. He's watching me with an expression I've never seen before — not jealousy, not disgust, but pure, overwhelming love. And arousal. His hand is wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly, matching the rhythm of the man fucking me.

I close my eyes and drop my head back against the couch as Cole unbuttons my pants to start stroking my cock. "Good boy," I hear Marcus groan and I open my eyes to see Cole jerking him off in time with me. "Tighten your grip sweetheart, that's it." Marcus moans quietly but quickly looks up and pushes Cole's hand away. I follow his gaze to across the room where Thomas is kneeling beside known sadist, Andrew. What the fuck is Thomas doing with a sadist? "Marcus?" I ask as he gets up and zips his trousers back up. I stay seated because I know Marcus will be able to deal with it.

He pulled off the top half of the suit, tying the arms around his waist, leaving him in just his white t-shirt, damp with sweat and clinging to his lean, tattooed torso. Thomas pulled his hood back too, unzipping the top of his suit and letting it hang around his waist. His denim shirt was soaked through, clinging to his broad, muscular chest. He unbuttoned a few buttons, exposing the thick mat of dark hair on his chest and the strong column of his throat. Finn looked at him. His green eyes moved slowly down Thomas's body, taking in the broad shoulders, the thick chest hair, the sweat glistening on his tanned skin. The look was not subtle. It was open and hungry and appreciative.

Christopher meets Marcello. Christopher leaves. Christopher dies later. Three points. Not connected yet, but close enough that they wanted to be. My phone buzzed. Thomas. “What is this Mr Thomas?” I asked picking up the call before he could even speak. Then he said, “You saw the same video?” “A really weird message from anyone at all.” I heard him exhale, Thomas was in his sixties but maybe this was stressing him too much. “I know.” He said. That was new, unlike the other questions he avoided. I stood and walked toward the window, keeping the phone pressed to my ear.

Her pussy was freshly waxed, already glistening, a thick Queen of Spades tattoo now adorned her lower back, just above her juicy ass, and another small one on her inner left thigh. Mark was completely naked except for his chastity cage and a leather collar with “Cuck Property” engraved on it. His hands were cuffed behind his back, a thick butt plug with a fluffy tail was lodged deep in his ass. Cindy had pushed it in herself while laughing at how eagerly his hole twitched around it. Soon the guests started arriving, twelve muscular black men, all friends or acquaintances of Chinedu also arrived. Some were fellow models, others athletes, every single one was packing at least 8 inches, thick a

“I want you to lie back now Nancy and put your feet in these stirrups. That’s a good girl. Spread your legs wide.” I opened my legs up and exposed my small pink cunt to Dr. Thomas. I had to keep reminding myself that this was his job and he probably sees hundreds of naked women all the time. I still felt exposed, since no man had ever seen me naked like this in a long time. Dr. Thomas sat on the rolling chair and rolled right up to the edge of the examination table so he was eye level with my cunt. “I’m going to examine you and make sure everything is alright in there,” the doctor said.

A deep grunt echoed, and my pulse quickened instantly. He was in there. Working. Sweaty. Alone. My breath hitched. I reached the bottom of the stairs and followed the sound, the towel still loosely tied around me. When I reached the doorway, I paused and watched. Mark was hunched over the workbench, shirtless. The muscles in his back flexed and moved as he worked, the sheen of sweat making his skin glisten like polished bronze. A tattoo curled around his left shoulder, something jagged and tribal and I stared at the way it moved when he breathed.

What should've been simple had turned into an archaeological dig through London's worst male specimens. "Thomas, twenty-nine, 'financial consultant,'" I continued, narrating for Gwen, who had given up pretending to work and was now watching the show openly. "First photo: nice suit, big confident smile, he looks civilized. Second photo: he's posing shirtless in a bathroom mirror like a bodybuilder, oiled muscles glistening. Third photo, he's… oh wow. That's him licking his own bicep?" "Gross," Gwen winced. "Block that one immediately."

“It’s for the child. He firmly believes he is a clone of Jesus of Nazareth. That’s why he tries to kill him and the others.” “Let him say it himself.” Mark walked into the room and Thomas looked at him expressionless. He seemed calm.” “So you’re running some kind of sect or cult,” Mark told him, sitting across from him at the table. “Do you really think this child is Jesus? It’s the reason why you tried to kill him?” Thomas was unfazed. Mark continued. “I don’t think that little boy poses a threat to you. It’s only a child. Only a coward would try to kill a child. Are you such a coward?”

Before he could finish speaking, his remaining words turned into cries of pain. Mark rained punches on him. It wasn't until his rosary was covered in fresh blood that he finally stopped his attacks. Meanwhile, Thomas was lying on the floor, on the verge of death. His subordinates were pale with shock as they watched the scene. They huddled in the corner, too afraid to even breathe properly. Mark was literally a devil from hell! "I heard that you broke Howard's arm," Mark said, stepping on Thomas' left arm. "You'll need to pay it back with yours to settle the score between you and Yvonne."