Can You Patch The Inner Thigh Of Jeans Novels & Stories

Silvia said, swallowing a sigh, and headed upstairs for a cold shower. Back to her room, trembling, snoozing, rubbing her arms to try to get a little warm, she grabbed the black jeans she’d bought for the occasion. She’d been careful to wear them for a whole afternoon beforehand, to make sure they weren’t too tight and allowed her to breathe. She’d washed them with cold water the day before and let them to dry in the open, not in the drying machine. No use. The damned thing had shrunk three or four sizes in the process. She rummaged through her rucksack like she didn’t know what she’d packed. They were there for a few days, so she hadn’t brought much. The options were the jeans she’d just ta

She crossed her jacket clad arms over her chest. "I say we try an experiment. See this hole?" He pressed his thumb down firmly into her wound. She gasped. He let go and went back to tracing circles. "Let's see what it looks like after we use the Link." "Definitely not." She turned her head away from him. "Do you really think you can walk on that leg right now?" "I did it in the tunnels." "You were holding my hand the whole time, baby doll." "Harumph." Jack traced a line across the skin of her inner thigh and up between her legs atop the lacey, pink panties.

A spark of something I hadn’t felt in a long time flickered inside me—something close to normalcy and greed. I wanted everything for myself, but I stopped, reminding myself that if I ever needed to leave, it’d be a hassle taking all the clothes with me, and a waste to leave them in the pack. I shook my head and continued scanning until I reached the denim section. A dark wash pair caught my eye—high-waisted, with just the right amount of stretch. I grabbed the waistband and tugged, but the jeans didn’t budge. Frowning, I yanked harder.

Maybe I should get the butt plug and put it to good use for once… “I love that you’ve only had my cock in your mouth,” said Liam, his mouth sliding down my throat. “Now take off those jeans and panties before I rip them off.” “You can’t rip denim. Not with your bare hands.” When Liam batted my hands away from my jeans and was about to, in fact, actually rip my jeans off, I squealed. “Don’t you dare! These jeans cost three hundred dollars!” “Who spends that much on jeans?” Liam looked at the label. “Are they made with spun gold?”

God, I need to do this. But, my mom. . . Never mind, I'll be quiet; or I'll try. I get out of bed quickly and run to the door to put the latch on it, before I run back to bed and throw myself on it. I take off my pajama pants, because with these positions I could not open my legs well. I take a hand to my underwear and put it into this one, ready to do it. "Watch out, that hurts" he complains in a thigh, making me stop.

Walking towards the bathroom door, I knocked on the wood before asking, "Have you changed your mind?" "Give me a minute," she said after a short silence. "What's taking you so long?" "Uhm.... The jeans are kind of small." I narrowed my eyes in confusion. "Of course, they're small. You're pretty slim, Elaine." She opened the door and my jaw almost dropped at the jeans she squeezed into. Elaine was indeed small but I didn't acknowledge the thickness below her waist. The jean was unbuttoned and the zip was halfway through. It fit her legs properly but got tighter at her thighs going up.

I snap at myself, yanking the tiny excuse for clothing off and throwing it onto the bed. I finally settle on a pair of skinny jeans. I tug them up with considerable effort, wiggling and hopping until they snap into place. The denim feels stiff, unyielding, like it’s fighting back. I frown at my reflection. Are they supposed to be this tight? It doesn’t matter—they’re staying on because there’s no way I’m peeling them off again.

Not to mention that everyone in the pack respected him since he had Alpha blood. Clay tried to fold the jeans away from the wound, I stopped him. “Wait, I think we need to cut it off,” I told him and reached for the pair of scissors in my dresser. “What? My leg?” Clay asked looking frightened, his eyes huge as a saucer. God, he was such a faker and all the more charming for it. “No! Idiot!” I snapped. “I meant the jeans. I can’t heal it until the jeans are off.”

As carefully as I could, I hoisted myself up, only slightly, but just enough to give Kye access to pull down my pants. The jeans slid down my thighs faster than I would have ever worn them, and a cold gust of wind nipped at my skin. My panties came next, and with how Kye tugged at them, it was a surprise as how he hadn't ripped them apart. The thought of him doing that though, crossed my mind, and I bit down on my bottom lip as my stomach clenched in response.

“Put your pants off, drape this over yourself. We’re doing the outer thigh today, starting from the hip down. Are you ready for this?” I nodded, kicking off my shoes and unbuttoning my jeans, sliding them down along with my boxers because why not, it was just easier. The sheet she handed me was thin, barely covering much, and as I settled into the chair, propping my leg up on the rest, I felt exposed already. My cock twitched a bit just from the cool air hitting my skin, but I pushed it down, focusing on the ceiling. Felicia pulled on her gloves, snapping them loud, and prepped the stencil, her fingers brushing my thigh as she positioned it.