Nude Fiction Novels & Stories

"I think I'm going to miss this the most." "My ass?" "Cuddling. Jeez, get your head out of the damn gutter." I snorted out a laugh and smacked his chest. "But yeah, your ass too. I'm going to require about five nudes a day to get me by. Should I write it in a contract?" "Five?" "About five, yeah." "I only have my boobs, ass, and v*gina. I don't have five parts." "One t*t, then the other, p*ssy pic, ass pic, and then maybe a pic of full frontal."

"Sorry, folks. Duty calls. I'll check on you two again in a little while." "Sex writers," I mused. "I wonder exactly what that entails." Noah grinned at me. "Considering a career change, darlin'?" I shook my head. "I don't think so. Although I have to say that I'm intrigued. Do they just write books about sex, or do they write erotic fiction? Or both?" "Maybe they also write scripts for porn," Noah suggested. "If that's the case, they need to up their game. Most porn is seriously lacking in storylines and decent dialogue."

Nuel landed on his back against the piece of cloths, his chest heaving, surprise flickering across his face before it melted into eager anticipation. She straddled his thighs briefly, her hands roaming over his hard muscles, then motioned sharply. 'Lay down flat and spread those legs wide for me, you needy fuck. I want full access to that big dick and your musty ass.' Nuel complied instantly, stretching out on the cave floor, some parts of his large body kissing the cool stone floor contrasting with the heat radiating from his skin. He parted his legs, knees bending to expose himself completely—his thick cock standing rigid, veins pulsing, balls heavy and drawn tight, and his ass cheeks part

Heat flooded my face, and lower as I pressed my thighs together instinctively. “Only the women,” Dan murmured against my ear, his hands sliding slowly down my arms. “No man is ever required to undress. But every woman who works here accepts the nudity as part of the culture. Exhibitionism is practically a prerequisite.” His fingers brushed the sides of my breasts through my half-unbuttoned blouse as he looked down at my clothes. “And from what I can see, you already enjoy pushing boundaries.”

Her body kept calling unto me to eat them, her perfectly rounded body, the curves, and then, her perfectly shaved pussy. They all made me salivate, and the water droplets on her body, seemed to make everything more perfect, as she looked like a goddess. She had the perfect nudes. Her body awakened my inner demon from its shackles, her nude body. She had successfully untamed the beast, without even trying. She looked so innocent and I wondered if a man had ever touched her. I felt so aroused. She just seduced me without having to lift a finger, something most women had tried to do, but always failed. I had seen so many nude bodies but none ever made me feel the way hers made me feel.

We had however abstained for the last few days to be match ready. The prize was going to be worth it. The life-changing prize, one that money couldn’t buy. A prize beyond my wildest fantasies or desires, just thinking about it got my horny. I peeked under the covers at our naked bodies. We always slept in the nude even in the depths of winter. I loved accidentally bumping into his naked skin in the night or our bottoms rubbing against each other early in the morning. I always enjoyed waking up in the morning to be greeted by his beautiful body.

Both Rhena and Thelma talk about how they occasionally made out with their boyfriends and that had me envying them. That took me on the long road to the naked beach, hoping to catch myself a mate but I only ended up returning home to a solo sex. "You know that naked beach we all talked about. She goes there, and watches one particular dude, what's his name again? Then she returns home to finger herself to orgasm." Rhena spewed. I jerked my head away from Thelma's burning gazes and Rhena's annoying laughter. Taking my cup of cold vanilla juice, I began to sip.

Property? Me: Uh, are you like, swingers? Harold: Do we look like swingers? Marcy: Swinging is about the sex. Nudism is about being unclothed. It has almost nothing to do with sex. It's about comfort and freedom and relaxation. Harold: Answer me, boy. Do we look like swingers? Me: Uh, no? Harold: Damn straight.

Some were fully, birthday suit naked, and the rest were dressed scantily. “What...” I swallow, “What is this?” I whisper, unable to take my eyes away from them. or some reason, I found their nakedness and mingling to be beautiful. None of them were staring at each other with lust, they were just chatting away and laughing. Some of them were at tables working on their computers. “The Nudists, they find clothes constricting, and find they feel better like this.” I feel him watching me keenly, but I can’t take my eyes off them, as they chatted, not one of them looked uncomfortable.

A naked whore, trussed like a chicken, lay on a trestle while they vied with one another, lobbing coins into her wide exposed cleft. A sketch labelled Symptoms of Sanctity showed the interior of a monastery. A bald and very ugly monk was leering obscenely at a lovely young virgin standing before him, head bowed in prayer. The holy man’s hand was resting on her bare breast while he fondled his balls with the other. They were surrounded by a rutting crowd of nuns and priests, clothing in disarray, black robes pulled up over nude backsides, each linked with another sexually by mouth, cunt, prick or anus.