Chest Piece For Men Novels & Stories

I was struck too. The only thing Elio wore from his waist up was a chain of beads which slanted vertically from his right shoulder and to the left side of his waist. A white faux fur neckpiece hung around his neck with another red and white beaded neckpiece. He looked so good and as he turned even I was thrown off because I couldn’t remember his abs being that scrumptious. If it were up to me, he would wear that every day, every single day. Around his waist was a black belt which held a faux leopard skin apron or loin-like material which sat on two thick brown cotton fabrics aligned together, tied at his waist. The fabrics left space so when he walked, his whole leg was in display. The man w

For all I knew, he could be hiding a pointed chin. The hair on his chest was so thick that it formed a velvet backdrop for the gold rings around his nipples. And it continued down a muscular torso into a pair of skin-tight jeans with the top button undone. Even though I tried not to look, the front of his jeans bulged with the outline of a third appendage that extended halfway down his leg. It was probably a trick of the light, an overstuffed Christmas stocking, or he’d gotten one of his slaves to bleach his clothes to create an optical illusion.

The red trim seemed to pulse against the black fabric, a quiet but bold statement that mirrored Aiden's own presence–controlled yet impossible to ignore. His slacks matched the jacket, the same deep black that fit him like a second skin. Every inch of fabric was meticulously chosen, emphasizing the powerful lines of his legs and the fluidity of his movements. The jacket was not fully buttoned just enough to reveal the curve of his chest beneath, the fabric parting slightly at the center. Aiden's chest was well defined, carved by years of training and discipline, each muscle clearly visible through the fabric. It was a glimpse of strength, not flaunted but present, like the hint of steel bene

He said grabbing a black jeans from him closet. He took his joggers off then pulled his jeans on quickly and I didn't fail to see how sexy he is. I bit my bottom lip as I saw how his gray Calvin Klein boxers sat on his ass that made his jeans sit perfectly on him. He button his jeans then put on his black Gucci belt, white and black Nike barrage, black and white polo shirt along with a small diamond chain and black stud earrings. He looks so sexy, yummy and edible.

The chiseled jawline, strong and defined, added an aura of strength to his potent presence. The look he was giving made me confused whether I should hide from him or hug him. He wore a black dress shirt and pants that seemed to be tailored to perfection. The sleeves of the shirt were neatly folded, showcasing his well-defined biceps and forearms. A few buttons at the top were undone, revealing a glimpse of his toned chest and a few chest hairs, hinting at the hidden strength beneath the fabric. His hair, tousled in a way that hinted at wildness, made my fingers itch with an inexplicable desire to run through those strands.

Or maybe there's another choice now, it's just not mine. Chester is not a beautiful man. His brown eyes burn with passion, his nose is bent and crooked and his hair is thick and black and my fingers get tangled in his hair. He has thick wrists and large hands. His shoulder and back are thickly muscled and feel like wood when I wrapped my fingers through it. The memory sends a jolt through me, to my nether region and I moisten at the thought.

I ask. “That’s just a string.” “You bought me a string as well.” “Fair enough.” Seeing mesh boxers and floral briefs, I instantly add them to the cart. There are also some boxers with ribbons, some leather compression shirts that can show off his muscular arms, a button-down bodysuit with a plunging v-neck, and even backless underwear with a mesh front. And soon, I am grinning like a fool. “What are you adding, wife?” he asks, stopping my fingers from adding more embarrassing items.

Ace carried a poise, a sort of elegance in everything that he wore. The first button of his t.shirt was undone exposing his rough black chest hair. What a machismo, a feast to the eyes of every female. Suddenly she was feeling extremely jealous as if there were thousand girls who were watching him there along with her. She beat the internal urge in her to go and close that shirt button.

Yet, beneath that handsome appearance, he revealed a coldness which kept people at arm’s length. “What a handsome man!” Connie simpered over the handsome man at once, causing Dickson, who sat next to her, to look slightly depressed. The man also had a palm-wide, one-meter-long black box strapped to his back. The black box and his white attire created a striking contrast. At the same time, it also gave off a very oppressive feeling. Members of the martial arts community would undoubtedly recognize that box as a sword chest. Without a doubt, that box contained a sword.

he replied, lowering his voice. "Okay," I said. "Let me just close up the shop, and we can take a look." I locked the door, flipped the sign to "Closed," and turned back to him, my heart pounding with anticipation. He walked over to the counter, pulled a package from his bag, and opened it. Inside was a black leather jockstrap. It had a large pouch to accommodate his cock and balls, with the outside made of rough, polished leather and the inside lined with soft suede. The belt featured steel studs and a sturdy steel buckle that fastened in the back, while braided leather straps curved under to cradle what I could only imagine were perfect buttocks.