روايات وقصص ضمن Vinny Guadagnino Nudes

"Okay. Do you want on-location or at the studio set?" Ingrid couldn't hide her excitement. "On-location sounds nice." Cade turned to Noah, who was behind him, with a grin. "Noelani, do you want a new nude photo?" Ingrid looked at her boss. "You have a nude photo, sir?" she asked, smiling. "I wasn't nude," Noah said, embarrassed, narrowing his eyes at Cade. "Why did I let you guys convince me back then?” "He was wearing skimpy swimwear," Cade told Ingrid. "The picture is on my I*******m; do you want to see it?"

Later that afternoon, while we were tying up loose ends, Valentino’s message came through. A video. The thumbnail showed Valerie’s face, head thrown back in pleasure. I hit play before I could think. Vincenzo leaned in close on the couch beside me. The camera was shaky, handheld—Valentino filming while he fucked her raw right there on the picnic blanket. Sunlight dappled her skin. She was on all fours, dress bunched at her waist, no panties. Just bare out there in the open. Of course we knew he had paid for the entire place for some privacy.

He had kept them, hidden them, and now he was using them to satisfy himself. The picture captured her face and her cleavage closely. Mr. Vincent's eyes never left the pictures. His eyes were glued to the picture while he kept stroking his dick. His movements were becoming faster and more desperate. ​“Fuck! I can’t… You’re driving me crazy,” he groaned, rolling his eyes back slightly and looking back at the picture. “I want you here… I want to feel you beneath me. I want to fondle and suck those boobs. Yesss! I want to fuck your mouth until I cum in your mouth." He was speaking to the photo as if it were her.

I gasp, looking at the picture, and then turn around to study her face. "What is this?" I rip the picture from her hands, bringing it closer. I cringe but can't look away. In the image Vincent lounges on a bed, his head back on a pillow and his arms outstretched beside him as a woman has his dick in her mouth obviously in the middle of giving him head. From their expressions they're both enjoying themselves even as the woman is tied up, her hands and feet close together with a piece of rope making the act she performs harder than necessary.

Vincent's cock twitched in his jeans as he closed the distance, his eyes devouring every inch of her exposed skin, the faint bite marks on her neck, the way her nipples pebbled under his stare. He shrugged off the dark navy denim jacket, letting it drop to the floor, then yanked his off-white T-shirt over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest and abs. His light blue jeans followed, kicked aside with his suede boots, until he stood as naked as she, his thick cock already half-hard and rising.

But her feet moved before her mind could stop them. She approached Vincenzo’s door and noticed it wasn’t fully closed. It hung slightly ajar, a thin sliver of light spilling into the hallway. She hesitated, then leaned in, peering through the crack. Her breath caught the instant she saw inside. Vincenzo was naked, his skin slick with sweat, broad chest rising and falling as he gripped the hips of the naked woman straddling him with bruising force, their bodies angled toward the edge of the bed rather than the headboard. His biceps flexed with each movement, fingers digging into her flesh as she rode him, her thighs trembling around his lap.

I imagine it locked around my ankles, forcing me open, exposing me, and my nipples tighten, pressing against the fabric of my lace bra. Then I see the files. A stack of them, tucked into a drawer beneath a table. I pull one out, my breath hitching as photos spill into my hands. Women. Bound. Gagged. Bent over benches, their asses red from spankings, their pussies glistening. Butt plugs stretching them, clamps pinching their nipples. And in every single one, he's there. Adrian, fully dressed, his expression cold, his hands on their bodies, his cock buried inside them. His grip bruising on their hips, his fingers tangled in their hair as he fucks their mouths.

He agreed, his hand caressing my naked thighs. I was only wearing on of his t-shirts and nothing underneath. The act of wearing nothing underneath was purely deliberate. It was like I knew this would happen. His hand sneaked up to the center of my thighs with our eyes still on each other's, and one of my hands was planed on his shoulder. I whimpered loudly when his finger grazed my naked pussy, but it was nothing compared to the guttural moan that Vincent let out as soon as he felt me.

The next thing Calley heard was Nelly exclaiming: “Hey—oh my god! Why is there a nude painting of you up there?!” She laughed at Nelly’s reaction. Somehow, she’d expected this. “Do you like it?” Nelly instinctively stepped back and rubbed her arms as goosebumps ran down her skin. “Dear Lord, my hair’s standing! Caty, who the heck did you strip for to paint that?!” Nelly then turned to her with wide, almost tearful eyes. “Why would you pose naked for a painter? Does Ser Phill know about this? Why would you do this, Caty? He’d be devastated if he found out—”

And when I go back to my senses I immediately close my eyes while Vincent covers his body and then keeps on cursing… While I was closing my eyes Vincent's nude body was all over in my head. He's a six-pack of abs and the line between down there and of course the main dishes. I didn't think that the manhood of a man could be that big. Is it that all men have that huge penis? Oh please dear lord my innocent mind… Why do I need to see that? "Hey…" I heard Vincent's voice in front of me and then when he touched my shoulder and jumped in surprise but still, I kept on closing my eyes. I'm too afraid to see him.