Abdl Pajamas Novels & Stories

Whichever it was, at least I get to see Aaron in his Pajamas again. By the time we arrived, she was practically draped over me, giggling like a schoolgirl. Aaron opened the door, his tall, imposing figure flourishing in his Pajamas. The white shirt stretched across his broad chest and the Pajama pants, a soft flannel that had me imagining what his legs must look like, with a body like that definitely muscular and firm. His jawline was sharp, his expression unreadable as he took in the sight of Sarah, and me, half-carrying her. “Good evening, Mr. West,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Although he had to admit that he liked seeing Blakely wearing jeans that accentuated every curve of her legs, he cared quite a bit about the comfort aspect that Blakely wouldn't get if she slept in those super tight jeans. Then his eyes fell on a pair of rose gold pajamas that were on the top pile in the bottom drawer. He pulled out the pajamas and stared at them for a while to judge that the silk pajamas were comfortable and the style was very modest. He then walked over to Blakely, shook her shoulder again, and asked her to open her eyes. But the woman didn't respond and just kept on snoring in a soft voice.

It only took ten minutes for Adelia to return to Afgan's room with a pillow and blanket in her hand. Adelia had also put on an over-the-knee sleepwear that had two thin straps. Adelia moved to the sofa in the living room to spread her blanket on the sofa that was bordered by a luxurious glass partition in Afgan's room. “Hey, why are your clothes that thin? Don't tell me you want to tease me,” mocked Afgan who still couldn't even wear clothes because his wounds weren't dry yet.

“It’s just you and me tonight.” Clothes came off as I walked through the apartment bra flung on the couch, blouse draped over a chair. The shower was hot and long. I stood under the stream with my eyes closed, letting it wash the weight of the day off me. Letting it rinse away the confusion. The frustration. The anger I hadn’t fully felt yet. When I finally stepped out, I pulled on my pink cotton pajama shorts and the matching top. Simple. Soft. Safe. The opposite of the power dresses and tight pencil skirts Dean saw me in every day.