Romans & histoires Skirt Chasing

The matching skirt rode low on my hips, a whisper of material that hugged the flare of my ass and thighs, ending just below the curve where it threatened to reveal the heat building between my legs. As I slid it on, the satin whispered against my skin, sending shivers straight to my core. I felt my pulse quicken, a flush of arousal warming my cheeks as I caught my reflection, curves on brazen display, every sway of my hips promising forbidden pleasures. Kara circled me slowly, her fingers brushing my waist to adjust the fit, tugging the skirt a fraction lower until it barely concealed the lace of my thong peeking out. Her touch lingered, professional yet electric, and she hummed low in her t

“The skirt you are wearing looks stunning.” -The skirt pooled about her like a cascading waterfall, chiffon layering sumptuously. The halterneck top revealed her smooth shoulders and accentuated her neck, which would have made her appear soft as a wisp if not for the detail in leather crisscrossed under her small breasts and cinching her waist. A touch of strength, just enough to give this princess the presence of a warrior.- “My movie is playing.” Winter is grinning like a kid getting a candy bar.

Blake POV I hear the heels and turn to see her walking towards us. Groaning, I turn away from her, and Jax laughs. She didn't buy that when we went shopping. "We will talk on the way, Princess," Chase mutters. He's back to being grumpy, as always. Standing, I follow them out. My eyes look across her body. She's wearing a leather corset and skirt. Her thighs are perfectly on show, and I swear it's just like temptation—a constant temptation to touch her.

With her left hand still occupied with her breasts, her right hand moved down, sliding under the hem of her skirt. She lifted the skirt inch by inch, savouring the exposure of her legs. The floor was hard and unforgiving, but her skin was flushed with heat. She moved her hand up her thigh, her fingers tracing her skin just above her knee. She took her time, dragging her nails lightly along the crease, feeling the gooseflesh rise in response. She moved higher, closer to the apex of her thighs, the anticipation making her heart to race.

~11~ Chiara I tied my hair up in a messy bun because I didn't have time to style it after washing it. Humming to some tune I didn’t even recognize, my fingers grazed the length of the shoe rack as my eyes chose for tonight. I looked down at my black short skirt, paired with a silver top underneath a black jacket, and smiled when my eyes locked onto a perfect match. “Come to, Mama,” I said, grabbing the silver high thigh boots with long narrow heels. I plopped on a fur ottoman to pull them on. Still humming. Where the hell did I hear this song?

I told myself to go, to move, to run—but my body had other plans. I pushed the door open, the hinges creaking in protest, and the night air rushed in—sharp, cold, slicing across my damp cheeks like punishment. I stepped out, gravel crunching under my shoes, every sound too loud in the quiet suburban street. My legs moved of their own accord, retracing the path I had just walked minutes ago. Each step pulled me back, tethered by something I couldn’t name, something invisible yet unbreakable, dragging me toward the porch like a marionette on strings.

Her skirt showed off her slender legs, her feet were bare. "Is that a new outfit?" Harold asked. Heather skipped over to where he was sitting and did a quick pirouette for him. "I got it at the mall the other day. Do you like it?" Harold loved it. The plaid mid-thigh skirt reminded him of the school girl skirts of his youth. Her simple white polo shirt matched it wonderfully. "It's... very nice." "I'm glad you like it, you bought it," she answered, giggling. She did another spin, a little faster. Her skirt flew up, giving her father a rather indecent show.

It would be chaos here in just a little while- In the failing light, a familiar green glimmer skirted across her vision like a dancing moth. She didn’t know why it was familiar. Didn’t know what was so compelling about it that she simply had to chase after it when it disappeared, either. But just as Kai caught up to her, his voice snaking through the sounds of the crowd to reach her ears, she slipped away from him once more to follow the light. She tailed it through the people as it bobbed this way and that, and it took her a moment to realize it was something glinting in a woman’s hair. A piece of jewelry. She kenw it. Oh, yes, she knew it well.

We don't perceive pain like others. "Here, wear this." Chloe tosses a slouchy red shirt, and a black skirt at me. Holding them up I inspect them further. "Maybe to the shirt, hell no to she skirt." I toss the black tube top she calls a skirt back at her. "Oh my god, you're going to be the lady that wears yoga pants on your wedding day, aren't you?" She purses her lips, one hand on her hip. "Maybe," I laugh. "Try the damn skirt on, it's really soft material." She tosses the black skirt back at me.

The evening held a slight breeze that tugged at Aimee's blond hair, making her consistently snatch at it to tuck it behind her ears. The battle was equally as frustrating with the skirt she chose to wear, as the wind kept flapping the fabric around her thighs and jerking the skirt up in the air, exposing her ass if she wasn't careful.