Barely Tolerable Shirt Novels & Stories

The white shirt was their most basic piece, but it was made of excellent fabric and was tailored to perfection, luxurious yet understated. "This is for you." Renee held up the shirt in front of Marcelo, trying to make it up to him.

"Tch, what was I thinking!" I threw the towel into the corner of the room, and now I have put on Ozgur's lenin shirt. This shirt is too big, so it makes my body sink. "You look very sexy, Ara." I said, while posing in front of a large mirror. The lenin shirt that I wear only covers my upper thighs, this shirt shows my white thighs a little. This shirt is so thin, that my body is clearly printed. "Fuck underwear!" I'm not even wearing a bra or underwear. "Ozgur, damn it!"

In the center display case sat a plain-looking silver-gray thermal shirt. The price tag was 40 thousand dollars. Seriously? Nicole almost laughed. Who would pay that kind of money for a shirt? Curiosity got the better of her. She stepped closer and read the label. [Temperature-regulating fabric. Keeps your body at a constant 77 °F.] Enough said. She smashed the glass and pulled the shirt out. So much for temperature control. She pressed against her arm, but it didn't feel any different. She frowned, then ran her fingers over it.

He had passed it to me the night before. A soft exhale leaves my lips. At last, there is one decent attire that I can wear over whatever is in the wardrobe. Rummaging through the rest shelves, I find the second most acceptable attire, a snug baby tee that bares my midriff but covers my chest, and a pair of low-rise jeans that at least feel normal. I pull them on quickly, the denim scraping against my skin and tug the jacket over my shoulders like armour. It swallows my tiny frame but I like it that way.

Eliza looks down, seeing her cleavage which Ash gently adjusts so her breasts are pushed together a bit more. She raises an eyebrow, and he leans back and nods. “Perfect. Gods, I love those beauties.” She sighs and rolls her eyes as he finds his own dark blue jeans, but goes with a slightly faded red marl t-shirt. She looks them over and sighs, he raises an eyebrow at her inspection of them, “You should get some larger t-shirts; they look tight enough that one good flex and you’ll rip out of them.” Ash grins,

“WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!” “Whatever do you mean, brother? How would I know? Aren’t those shirts right there?” She said, pointing at the open luggage and feigning innocence. The shirts are in neon colors: pink, green, orange, and yellow. Jude picks up one of the shirts, and the logo reads, ‘GIRLS WANNA HAVE FUN!’ Then he picks up another one, and it has a teddy bear riding a unicorn. Not to mention, they all look a size too small.

I chose the safest option: orange athletic shorts that hit mid-thigh and a matching cropped shirt. The only slightly questionable thing was the text printed boldly across the front of the shirt. GRAB ME. Right across my chest. Apparently Lauren had some sort of suggestive-writing kink when it came to clothing. Still… I actually liked the outfit. And I figured Lauren had picked it on purpose. Some kind of psychological warfare. Joke’s on her—I actually felt comfortable in it. The fabric was soft, the fit loose enough to breathe, and the words felt like armor instead of an invitation. Let them try.

And that’s just plain mean. The first shirt fits me perfectly, it's not tight or loose and it's a military green color. Appropriate, I guess. It has big black letters stitched on the chest but I don't know what they mean. Angelique stares at the garment for almost a full minute with intensity and then pulls out her phone and starts taking up-close pictures of the shirt. "Perfect, as always," she mutters to herself and then tosses me another, "Now this one."

Bianca looked apologetically at Frost's shirt, knowing that it must be expensive and custom-made, with the bottom embroidered with a floral letter "L" "Usually, I can wear my shirt three times, but now I can get a new one ahead of schedule!" Frost replied. "That's so wasteful! Take it off, I promise to clean it for you, at least another 30 times!" Although this behaviour had never belonged to Frost, he still cooperated and took off his shirt, revealing a white short-sleeved T-shirt made of island cotton underneath, which clung to his lean figure. However, Bianca had cried so hard just now that her tears and snot had seeped through the shirt and dirtied the T-shirt.

I look for a nice shirt, but they are all in the dirty laundry. “It’s just pizza and a movie.” I hold up a long sleeve Motorhead t-shirt. “Do you think this one will be okay?” “Well, if it’s between that and the one with a rat eating a hot dog, then yeah, the band t-shirt is better.” Justice sounds disappointed. “Remember what your mother says about wearing heels?”