Plain Jane Nudes Novels & Stories

Julius I couldn't look away no matter how hard I tried. Jane stood in front of me, her dress pooled at her waist and her back completely bare except for the thin strap of her bra. The mirror reflected both of us. Her wide eyes, flushed cheeks, the graceful curve of her spine and the way her hands clutched the fabric to her chest.

"Okay, let's be honest with each other here. What's really going on? Why are you having such a freak out about getting your freak on?" If it hadn't been such a serious thing for Jessica, she would have snickered at the play on words from Bianca's mouth. "Because, who does that? I ran here because I had nude pictures get exposed, and I was so embarrassed that happened, but I'm perfectly okay with shucking every part of clothing off the top half of my body and letting Layne have his way with me on the side of the road? What the fuck is wrong with me?" "Nothing," Bianca told her softly. "Nothing is wrong with you. You want to know what I think?"

“Shut up! Yeah, it was me who did that, so what?! I can’t wait to see the video of you undressing yourself circulate on the internet! Hold back your smugness. It’s pointless even if you removed the pinhole camera. After all, the camera has a network automation function. The video of you undressing yourself is everywhere now!” North’s expression turned cold. “Network automation?” Jane laughed out loud. “You’re wearing a gown. That means you’ve undressed yourself before the pinhole camera. The lustful men are already looking at your pictures! Hahaha!”

"Stella! I have something for you!" I shouted, holding a glass of iced coconut water. When I turned around, I was startled to see my seven-year-old daughter, Stella Quinton, being surrounded by a group of people in the shallow area of the ocean. The leader of the group was a young and beautiful woman who was wearing sexy swimwear and a thick layer of makeup. Several gorgeous women and muscular bodyguards stood behind her. The woman impatiently pointed at Stella and exclaimed, "Where did you come from, brat? Scram!"

Silence. Then a voice. Cold. Broken. — It's a bit late, isn't it? I close my eyes. I inhale slowly to give myself courage and I enter. She is there. Sitting at the edge of the bed. Wrapped in a blanket. Staring blankly. Her features drawn. Not made up. Not styled. Not masked. And she has never been so beautiful. Not because of the suffering. But because of the truth. She is real. And I come with my ruins.

After all, she’s just his cleaner. Her last job in his bedroom is to empty the trash. To her disbelief she finds the basket empty. There are no used condoms. She places it back beside his nightstand, and for some inexplicable reason the empty basket makes her smile. Gathering up the laundry and her cleaning materials, she gazes for a moment at the two monochrome photographs on the wall. Both are nudes. In one a woman is kneeling, her skin pale and translucent. The soles of her feet, her behind, and the graceful curve of her back are all visible, and she holds her blond hair piled up on her head; a few stray tresses kiss her neck. The model, from this angle anyway, is beautiful. The second ph

The plain cover hid the pages and pages of pictures Kiana had found in her explorations into the darker side of the internet. Halfway through she found the high-resolution black-and-white photographs she adored, the ones with a pair of red lips barely touching the head of a stiff c*ck or a woman pushed down onto a plush bed by a man taking her from behind. Often she had fantasies develop around these pictures, ones she typed down for her blog – ones she brought with her to bed late at night. She looked at a picture of a tall strong man holding a limp and naked girl in his burly arms, his face hidden by the shadow as he held his prize before him. Claimed by him.

Josephine's hand moved over the canvas and her gaze was focused on the naked person in front of her. It's like Josephine's mind is directing her hand without her acknowledgment. The naked woman is still, like a statue as she laid on the red couch, her body perfectly curved. Her golden wavy hair flowed down her flawless honey toned skin that reached her breast as it covered her brown nipples. Her blue eyes held happiness and peace. She had no makeup on Mrs. Martin was comfortable in her own skin she despised makeup. Her thin pink lips were covered in lip gloss as they were slightly apart.

He shrugged. "Jeff?" The producer turned his head to eye the couple standing just behind him in the knee high grass of the neglected property. Jane was short, but had big breasts and a round ass in her tight jeans. She had a sultry Polynesian look with tanned skin, almond shaped green eyes, and shoulder length dark hair. Her hair caught and reflected the sunlight with a shimmer. Her nipples showed through her blouse which was gold for getting a little sex snuck into what was a home makeover show for a rather wholesome audience. Even with the clean crowd that was drawn to this type of programming, sex still sold. She was perfect for TV in almost every way.

I took some pictures but tried to stay in the background and let him take over the photo shoot. Tina's last bikini can best be described as two dots and a dash. The top was nothing more than strings holding together two tiny patches that only covered her nipples. The rest of her tits were totally exposed. The bottoms were the same. The strings held a patch of material that barely covered her bald pussy and even exposed some of her lips in some of the poses. She couldn't have gotten any closer to being completely naked. Jimmy's eyes drank in the beauty of her tight teen body as he began to snap picture after picture.