Barely Tolerable Shirt Novels & Stories

Sarah smiled "Sick. Now, I think you should get the extra large." I grimaced "No, he's like a medium, right?" Sarah shook her head, checking the tag "You see, this is mostly cotton. It will shrink when he washes it." "Oh, right I see." I grabbed the extra large shirt and threw it into the basket. "Alright, let's continue." **

There are a lot of neon-colored leggings and shirts with kittens and unicorns. "Sorry, she's ten," she cringes. "Uhh, it's okay. There must be something in here I can wear." I shrug. I don't want to admit the clothes are a lot nicer than anything I've owned before. I find a pair of jeggings and a white t-shirt that says 'Girl Power' in sparkly pink letters. Good enough for me. There's a couple of pairs of clean underwear but no bra. Not that I have much of a chest, but I do prefer to wear one. I keep digging until I find a spaghetti strap undershirt in the pile. It will have to do. Aside from smelling like I have a dead animal stowed away, Bronx's shirt is huge on me. It comes down to my kne

In the past, Doris did all her shopping until the black card arrived. “Hey, Ivan. What’s up with the bag?” “The boss sent me to get some accessible shirts,” Ivan explained. Picking out one from the bag, he raised a round neck polo. His brows furrowed, and he cleared his throat. “These are the best I could find. What do you think? I’ve never done shopping for the boss before. Is this good?” Accessible shirts, huh? “It’s great,” she said. The shirt he held was easy enough for her to tug it over Alek’s body and touch him whenever, unlike the buttoned-up shirts of his. “It’s perfect.”

Dawn shook her head. “Let’s start with the good news.” “We have actual clothes. I found two of your shorts in here. They probably got mixed in with mine,” Maxwell said. “But the only shirts we have are these.” He pulled out one extra-large T-shirt with a print that read: [I Put the ‘Max’ in Maximum Pleasure] “And this is yours,” Maxwell said, showing a small-sized shirt that read: [I Survived the Max Attack!]

She had expressive cocoa eyes that were surrounded by long black lashes. She was innocent indeed, and something inside of him wanted to take that innocence for himself. Her plump lips that were painted a velvety red were calling out to him, and he could only pray for an opportunity to taste them. She wore a form-fitting white polo with the Elite SA emblem on the front. The shirt molded beautifully to her small but perky breasts. Her black slacks fit her nicely, and while her ass was small, it rounded out perfectly and was still something to hold onto. “Get it together...you’re embarrassing me,” Patrick warned from beside Pierce in a low whisper.

“Because they swallow me whole.” My eyes drift over her without meaning to. The shirt does hang on her. But it also dips between her breasts, outlining them in a way that would pique the interest of any virile male. The hem is long for a shirt, but short for a dress, which is what she's currently wearing it as. It lifts slightly with her movements, revealing bare strips of thigh. My wolf growls low. I clear my throat. “Then we’ll fix that. I’ll take you shopping tomorrow.”

That's a combo of real alcohol. "Do you like my shirt that much?" That angelic voice asked. I forced my gaze on him again to look at the shirt. I don't like the shirt, I'm after the body behind the shirt. It's not like I can tell him that. "It's a BB design collection. It's one of our expensive designs" I said. Not only did I 'said'. My hands were on his chest, groping them. The bar tender was looking at me, but I don't care. The man didn't let my hands off his chest.

And then she realized she was naked. She glanced around the room and noticed on the make-up table behind her a small, neatly folded pile of clothes. Her black pumps sat atop them. They weren't the sweater and skirt she had worn in, she was sure of that. She unfolded the clothes, shook her head, and smiled. She slipped the t-shirt over her head. It was sheer and about two sizes too small. Her silver dollar size areolas were clearly visible. She was afraid her rock hard, gumdrop sized nipples were going to shred the material apart. The shirt tied into a knot under her breast, leaving her toned stomach exposed. On the upper left chest portion of the shirt was the Phi Jamma Slamma emblem with th

But what made me pause. She was wearing my shirt. One of the crisp white ones from my closet, the kind I usually wore to board meetings and power lunches. But on her? It looked… soft. Comfortable. The first two buttons were undone, revealing a teasing glimpse of her collarbone and just a hint more. The shirt was oversized, almost swallowing her whole, but somehow that made it worse. Her hair was up in a messy twist, a few strands falling down her neck. She wasn’t even trying. And still…

The world without my family has never been kind to me before, but now that things are looking up, I believe the best thing I can do for myself is not overthink any bitchy thing that a crazy person says to me. But that is hard to do. Especially since I am in a pack that makes me overthink. But I will try not to worry a lot. Derek is right. Caleb too. I swallow the lump in my throat and lift my head from the wall. Some minutes later, I am done showering with my bath gel and washing my hair. After I finish, I turn off the water and step out before drying myself with a towel and walking back into the room to grab one of the comfy outfits Brie gave me. It is a simple, gray long-sleeve shirt, soft