Bomby X Naily 소설 & 이야기

The David Beckham cologne smell already hitting my nostrils a second in. "Hi" I smile at Nayel. Nayel's eyes roam up and down my body, "Fuck you look so beautiful" I blush, Nayel was wearing plaid grey pants and a black turtle neck, his hair was tousled in a sexy way and it didn't look messy, as always he looked hot.

And again, my mind drifted to the wine-colored silk robe and the way it had clung to Rachel's damp skin, hinting at the tempting curves and shape beneath. I cursed inwardly, the room feeling hotter. But I didn't stop. My fingers typed the brand name into my web browser. The site loaded. The website was a temple of minimalist luxury, filled with models wearing delicate, impossible things. I found the robe quickly, clicking on the image. The ‘Sapphire Noir’ kimono. It was one of their most popular pieces, as the site page informed me. But curiosity, had its claws in me. I clicked further, scrolling through their collections.

“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.

“I stared at the girl who enticed me deeply. Though her clothes were wet because of the water that dripped from the clay pot on her head, she looked so beautiful. She resembles my dear late Nana, of whom I first saw the beauty of a black woman. She looked like a black angel. She had a portion of her plaited hair bound by a red ribbon, while the rest, fell about her arms, and even reached her waist. I have never seen a black woman with such an abundance of fine hair in my lifetime. She walked like a cat. I admire her more than any damsel I have ever seen. As fate happens, she turned around, and stared back at me. Our eyes met, her hazel-coloured eyes left me entranced, so I fell. Her pot of

0f course, he did. I give Julien a weakened smile and we exchange a few sentences of small talk before I thank him for driving ways here. Waving goodbye from the window as he slips into his car again, I pretend not to rush to the unknown contents that hide inside the white-encased box. There are cursive letters in black, engraved into the cardboard material, reading Matériau Féminin. Gnawing on the skin of my lip, all I do is shake mny head at a parallel memory that comes into mind when we spent time together in this very store, replacing the various lingerie of mine that he has ripped.