Can You Patch The Inner Thigh Of Jeans นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Instead, it bulged the fly like a frigging camping tent. I pulled the jeans down again, cursing Big Ellie under my breath. I could bet my cock the other possible position would fit like a damned glove, and it would be completely invisible with my clothes on. It was as simple as turning the pad around. Bad thing I couldn’t do it just like that: I had to take the ring off and thread my junk again on the opposite direction. Shit! That way, the double ring still pushed my junk upfront, and the ribbed pad ended up covering the stretch between my nuts and my ass.

I stared. Here I was, about to be seen with my pants halfway down with only panties on. Not to mention, I was about to be seen like this whilst trying to fix a now infected wound. To top it off, by the eyes of my biggest enemy. I quickly tried to pull my pants up after readjusting my shirt. My fit jeans struggled to cooperate with my hectic speed, and my cut alongside my bandage would only worsen against such heavy friction. It was pointless.

he asks, casually. I groan, trying to stand upright. Everything aches. My thighs are on fire. My butt feels like I’ve been beaten with a frying pan. And then I feel it. Air, cold and uninvited, brushing against my backside. I look down. No. The rip slices all the way from my thigh to the back of my jeans. I’m fully exposed. Dusting myself off, I glare at the damage. Arthur reaches me, frowning. “You okay?”

She grimaced as she realized that the slim jeans went up no farther than mid-calf and the cut extended beyond that. Oh, no. Oh, God. I can’t take my jeans off. I won’t. She struggled with the material, trying to lift it higher. Adam watched all of this, confused. “Ummm. What are you doing?” “Rolling up my jeans.” “No,” he said. “Take them off, OK?”

I assumed he had been wearing the shorts beneath, pulling out the pants to access the wound on his thigh. A small healing supply pack sat open beside him, and he was attempting to clean the injury himself. From this angle, I could see it clearly. A deep gash along his inner thigh, still bleeding sluggishly. Not life-threatening, but definitely not something that should be ignored. I watched him struggle for a moment and every movement made him wince. My feet moved before my brain caught up. “Please.” I stopped a few feet away, keeping my voice soft. “Let me help.”

Too fucking tight. I rip my jeans off, my movements harsh, frantic, like the fabric itself is to blame. The second they hit the floor, I can’t breathe. I feel filthy. Wrong. Turning on the shower, I keep the pressure low and aim the stream toward the far end, grabbing one of the spare towels and wrapping it around my injured leg to keep the stitches dry. I step in carefully, avoiding putting too much weight on it, then lean forward and press my forehead to the cold tile.

She leaned her head giving me better access but I was done. "Did it hurt?" "Not really." "It might when I mark your inner thigh, right...here." I pressed my fingers into her thigh making sure to brush the back of my knuckles against the tight crotch of her jeans. Then I went back to watching TV while she tried to catch her breath. I'm pretty sure the others in the other room could hear her breathing.

Someone he couldn't get rid of no matter what. Pulling down the zipper of my pants, I winced as the cut on my thigh burned as it rubbed against the fabric, causing me to gasp out loud. Krimson was immediately on his knees in front of me, ripping the jeans from the bottom up with his bare hands until it fell to the floor in shreds. His hands went to my thigh, at the cut made from that goddamned log in the middle of the road, as he inspected the wound from up close.

"I need to get a clear view of the cut." "Cut?" I repeated. "It's a little more than a cut, Blake. You should know considering you stabbed me." "I said it was an accident," Blake muttered and I watched as he cut my jeans down to mid thigh. Once he had cut away the jeans covering my wound he cut through the blood soaked bandages and chucked them on the floor. My leg was a bloody mess and Blake sighed as he wiped most of the blood away with a wipe. "Stitches have ripped, you'll need new ones."

I look past him and see Joey sit on one of the beds to watch. "Let's get you both ready for some fun," he says as he attaches some sticky pads to my inner thighs and on my chest. I know what these do, I've used them on subs before and I've used them on myself to see what they feel like. On a low setting it's a nice buzz but when it gets higher it hurts like a bitch.