A Touch Of Cloth Novels & Stories

Suddenly, they vanished, just as my fear had before. My fingers naturally curled around the front of his shirt, and I couldn't help but do it. Now that I had his attention, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed myself up against him. It was almost as if the luxurious fabric of the dress did not exist at all. Each and every muscle exerted a strong force against me. The ridge of his pecs, the hard pane of his stomach, the bulge of his belt buckle, and then an even larger and more difficult bulge below that all pressed into my hip.

He felt so tempted to pick up some of these beautiful clothes though he wondered at the same time how these clothes would be there seeing no one lives anywhere nearby. They are clothes he desires to have back at home because they are so costly, he hasn’t been able to afford it, now he sees these clothes free to be taken. But as he was about to touch the clothes, he felt it’s not right, so he withdrew his hands and immediately he woke up from his vision. Some saw precious stones like gold, diamond, silvers, coppers, etc. and those who touch them got bruises on their bodies, and those who withdrew their hands escaped.

☾⭒☾⭒☾⭒☾⭒☾⭒☾⭒☾⭒☾⭒☾⭒☾⭒ He spun me around and lifted the fabric of my dress easily,lifting the fabric in one hand while his other teased the skin between my thighs from behind. I arched my back and leaned my chest against the solid wood of the desk for leverage as his strong, demanding fingers drove into my aching pussy. The way he stroked me with a precise touch threatened to give me a crippling orgasm in thirty seconds flat. There was something about his icy touch that soothed something inside me and I only craved more. Feeling the power through his touch was exactly what I needed.

Fingers skim the curve of my hipbone with indifferent professionalism. “Turn, please.” “Lift your arms.” “Breathe in. Hold.” The lace chemise Claudia chooses is the sort of thing that looks innocent from far away and obscene once it’s close. Delicate floral patterning that pretends modesty and then disappears entirely the second light hits at a certain angle. It clings to my body, the hem ending an inch below my vulva. My nipples harden treacherously against the lace, indiscriminate, responding only to air and nerves.

My hand stays on the fabric. I don't pull it.

I caught it with my hands, shaking. “Thank you, your highness.” I said, the words like acid to my mouth yet I had to be the better person, I had to show respect and just keep being nice, maybe she would grow warmer and the ice would melt away. I walked back to the river, the soap in hand and my eyes took it in. It looked like a normal soap yet it literally had no colour. The scent it had was one I had never smelt ever and it was heaven. Holding it felt like I was holding something great with its weight light. The cloth on the other hand seemed to be made from the finest cotton, so soft and smooth it had my hand tingle. I submerged in the water, the soap going to my wet hair. I soaped it then

It has more space, very manly indeed. End with wonders. I roam around to see where he was, then I found a fitting room? But it's way more bigger, it's like a room, surrounded by dark colored sheets of cloth. "Your Highness?" I'm having my way to that square thing surrounded by cloth. I didn't heard any response. I'm already in front of this square thing. My hand touch the cloth and swayed it to left side. A well-toned arms and back. That's what I saw. It's so sexy! Seems like crafted from Him.

He did. He lowered me into the water first, his hands gentle, almost ceremonial, like I was made of glass. The heat wrapped around me, and then he joined, sliding close until his knees framed my hips. A cloth in his hand, dipped and wrung, moved slowly over my skin - my shoulders, my arms, the curve of my breasts. Each touch was unhurried, deliberate, as though worship wasn’t in his words but in this simple act of tending to me. When the cloth skimmed lower, I gasped, my head tipping back against the cool edge of the bath. His mouth followed the path of water droplets down my throat, lingering at the hollow, then lower, teasing the swell of my breasts until my skin tightened under his attent

The touching started something tingling inside her that quickly became a rush of emotions she just wasn't equipped to deal with. She watched his body with a detached fascination, the damp cloth leaving a glistening trail across his muscles as she moved it down his chest to his stomach. When she reached his waist, she noticed him becoming erect; it was impossible to ignore under the flimsy hospital garment. Then she did something so foreign to her character, that before tonight she would have sworn it was impossible. On an impulse, she found herself moving the cloth lower, using her free hand to pull his gown and blanket out of the way so she could touch him.

Mek POV 🇳🇬 I walked out of the company feeling like I was in a dream, or maybe a movie? Because I know for sure that these type of things usually happened in dramas. It was too scripted to be true. "Can I Touch you?" remembering the words Mr. Adonis had said after what made a shiver run through my spine. First off, I thought it was a trick question, you know? To know if I was attracted to the man in any way, so my answer on instinct was "No!"