Boxer Shorts With Pockets Novels & Stories

With him standing there, looking powerful and hungry as hell, there was no way I was going to say no. My fingers were on the button to his shorts before I even had to think about it. He groaned slightly as I freed him from the restriction of his clothing. His shorts fell to the floor, and he stepped out of them. His dark blue boxer-briefs strained at the seams to control his manhood.

Professional, hard, a leader. I nodded, resting my hand on my thighs. I briefly glanced down at my clothing: a short-sleeved, fitted, olive-green performance tee, slim-cut, dark-olive cargo trousers with reinforced knees and two zippered thigh pockets for small gear and elastic cuffs. Low-profile black tactical trainers - grippy soles for wet ranges, cushioned midsoles for pacing hallways, and quick-lace systems for rapid on/off.

“Perfect.” I eyed him, unknowingly taking note of all his features. He was in short black shorts—shorts that were shorter than normal—and a red top with the imprint of a white skull on it. But it was hard to call the short a ‘top’ because it looked like he fought with a tiger, making most of this ‘top’ ripped apart.

I took a deep breath and walked right inside the testosterone heaven that was now empty. Okay cool, the coast is clear. Shirley was right. I was worried for nothing. The locker doors were never locked, and I learned from a reliable source that the beastman's locker number is six, so I went straight for the gold. I swung open the door, and Tadaaaa! There lie his magical shorts. I wondered if it was actually magical. I quickly grabbed it. I turned around and prepared to dash out of their full speed, but I rammed straight into what felt like a concrete wall.

I then move to open the dresser by the window and find his boxers and socks. In the other drawers, we're his plain T-shirts and other types of workout clothes. I grab one of his shirts and put it on, thankful that it's long enough to cover most of me. I was going to wear the shorts, but they were way too big for me. I search around the room for a phone or something to contact someone to get a hold of Cole, but no luck.

I just couldn't stop picturing Sherry's incredible body. I figured it would be a smart idea to put on some snug underpants beneath my shorts, and maybe to find some heavier shorts that would do a better job of concealing the blatant erections I kept getting around Sherry—and my sister! I reminded myself. I got up and shook my head as I pulled my overnight bag onto the couch and selected cargo shorts, boxer-briefs and a fresh t-shirt. I had already put on deodorant before I brushed my teeth, so I figured I could go ahead and change my t-shirt.

His tight boxers were being pressed to their limits, restraining the elongating pole beneath them. “Go on, Claudia. Clean them off,” he instructed me with a smile. I did as he asked, rubbing my hands along his impressive staff. I could feel the heat of his member burning through the material. Something this eager should be freed at once, I thought. No way were these little shorts going to hold it back for much longer. My dainty fingers traced the length of his cock... all the way up to the tip where I felt the button on the front of his boxers.

' I said relaxing on the bathroom door. 'Yes, no' I chuckled at her confused reply. 'Which?' 'How do I put it erm could you give me another boxer short?' 'Why? I asked teasingly. 'Uh, it soaked in blood, I blame the coffee took. ''Please get it.' 'Okay' 'I have it with some thing else.' She quickly opened the door allowing only her head out. 'Something like?' I handed the boxers to her with... 'Pads?' she asked surprised.

I pulled open a drawer that had my t-shirts and took out a shirt for me and for her. “I’ll just wear this with my shorts,” I said. “I can find some shorts for you if you want.” She bit her lip, as if weighing her thoughts. “Meh.” She turned around and opened another drawer, smiling when she found what she was looking for. She pulled out a boxer and showed it to me. No matter how much I wished to deny it, I felt heat crawling up my face. Her smile faltered. “It’s okay if I wear this right?”

(Kol's POV) My black short-sleeved shirt, stained with my sweat, is peeled off from my sweat-sheathed skin, as I slide it past my head and drop it to the floor. The hem of my dark-colored workout shorts, along with my boxers, are grabbed by my fingers, sliding them down my legs, so they form a puddle around my ankles for me to step out of. My cock is semi-hard, and my hand strokes it to further harden