Anna Cathcart Height Novels & Stories

I thought we were going straight sex but he wants us comfortable first which I don't mind, the idea of being comfortable around him excited me. My Valentino evening dress is gorgeous but not so comfy. His closet is huge and spacious, clothes and shoes filled in every hanger, racks, drawers. I devoured the sight of him as he changed from his tux. He wore a white T-shirt that molded to his muscled chest and was snug around his bulging upper arms and grey sweatpants. After he was done dressing he turned to me but I wasn't done watching him, he passed me a white shirt to wear. Carter is tall about 6'2 ft tall and I'm about 5'4 ft so his shirt is almost a short dress on me.

“You said it to me yourself. Sometimes, you don’t like being called cute because of your height.” {When I said that to you,} Kate thinks angrily, {I didn’t think you’d use it against me.} “I’m 5’3”,” she says aloud, gritting her teeth. “So? I’m 5’8”,” Ms. Perfect says without looking up from her flipchart. “That’s already the minimum height to be a fashion model. And if you were thinking of a career as a flight attendant, forget it. You’d barely reach the overhead compartments.”

“Yeah, that’s Logan Carter.” There was a round of Oh's and ahs from the group at the window. I heard my phone buzz on the table with a notification. I closed my laptop down and grabbed my things. A lot of the office stayed at the window watching as I exited. I must admit they were correct; he looked exceptional. He was wearing dark jeans, a crisp white T-shirt and a black leather jacket. He was leaning against the bonnet of a car I didn’t recognise.

I used the same tone as the black-haired man had used. With the heels I'm wearing and my head held high, I'm almost the same height as them. After all, I'm 1.72m(5.64ft or 67.68 in) tall, and with the 12cm(0.39ft or 4.68 in) heel, now I'm with 1.84m (5.97 ft or 71.64 in) ************* Note: Don't forget to like, comment, and share the book! This really helps it grow on the platform

Nishitha, a 26-year-old bombshell with a figure that turned heads everywhere she went (36DD-26-38, standing at 5'7″), had always been the center of attention. Her cocky attitude and slutty demeanor had earned her the ire of her four roommates in the shared apartment. They were tired of her parading around in skimpy outfits, flaunting her assets to every man who stepped foot in their PG.

“Big sis!” Here he was, trying to flirt, and Nylah had dragged him out. Now, they ran into Britney… If the boss found out about this, things would be a mess! Britney was 168 cm tall, with a proportional body, while Nylah was at least 175 cm. Her curvy figure was dressed in a loose casual coat. Even though Britney wore 8 cm heels, she only managed to match Nylah’s height, who wore casual flat shoes.

But I’m not really here for the class. I’m here for Ms. Catherine. She’s thirty-five and distractingly beautiful. Same height as me, but with curves that belong in a slow-motion movie scene. Her waist is tiny, her hips full, and her ass is round enough to keep me staring even when I know I shouldn’t. Today she’s wearing a swoop-neck blazer and a fitted skirt that shows off everything in the best way. Her breasts sit perfectly in that top. She must be wearing a C or D cup, and the way the fabric hugs them—it should be illegal.

The call was connected in the next second. The woman panicked and hurriedly rushed forward to grab the phone as she yelled, “Give me the phone! Give it to me! I’ll kill you if you dare to call the police!” Harmonia held the phone high. The woman was about 1.53 meters tall, and even though she was wearing high heels that were about seven to eight centimeters tall, she was still nearly ten centimeters shorter compared to Harmonia, who was 1.7 meters tall. She jumped up and down to try to reach the phone, but she looked like a clown, and it was a comical sight.

Hell, Iraq had been less of an adjustment. Footsteps padded on the stairs and he turned. The cold ball of dread in his gut morphed into a boulder. The biggest holy shit since arriving? Olivia Cattenach. He'd seen a couple photos of her, courtesy of her brother, but the 3D version had been a blow to the head. She rounded the landing of the enormous polished birch staircase, wearing a loose pair of gray sweats, pink socks, and a white tank top. He'd misspoken. She wasn't a blow. She was a hydrogen bomb directly aimed at his solar plexus.

I punch him in the arm and, being the nice guy that he is, pretends that I actually hurt him. Daniel Jay McCowan's lean body stand about five foot ten; his tendons frequently stretching over his muscles. He was our high school's running back, probably would have gone to college on scholarship had he not injured his shoulder senior year. His dusty brown hair always tends to flop in front of his face when he moves, and his green eyes have always had a glint of mischief in them. All that, combined with Audrey's fiery personality and my willingness to go along with all their schemes, and we were always getting ourselves into trouble.