Felix Hand Size Novels & Stories

He finishes what he was saying, a smile easy on his face when he takes in first the surroundings and then me. He steps inside and David follows. Felix looks different than I remember him, but it's been so many years. He's still as short, just a little over five and a half feet. And he's losing his hair. I notice when he walks inside, glancing at my bucket before crossing the room to look out of the window, that a bald spot has begun to form at the crown of his head. I wonder if he realizes it. Do men realize when they start to go bald? I mean, it's not like they see that part of their head.

I grinned smugly, holding my hand prepared to hit. "You win," he grunted, almost pouting like a child. My grin widened as I helped this giant stand up. Felix stepped onto the mat, clapping his hands and shaking his head. "I must have a thing for strong women. You have no idea how badly you turn me on."

Make a muscle again," staring at my arm. A muscle usually means biceps, so I threw up a right biceps. I supinated my wrist to make it dance, then went back to a natural position and pressed out the hardest peak I could. She touched it tentatively, then strongly. She clung to it with both hands. "I didn't know...It's bigger than my leg." Probably close. At just over 20 inches it was probably as big as our tiny friend Marisa's waist. "Do that back thing again," Denise pleaded.

“He said it kept him occupied when Enzo wasn’t ordering him around.” “So Lance has surprisingly nimble hands…That’s really hard to picture.” “Right?” Isabella then handed him the scarf. “Here! It’s almost four months late but…Happy birthday, Felix.” He felt the fabric in his palms. Felix knew that it was his cue to smile and happily express his gratitude, but his bitterness caught up to him. “I’m 19 years old.”

“I called you Mr Montgomery in front of Mrs Collins and she questioned me. I don’t think I can handle this any better” “Even if you kept your mouth shut, she would question you. You flinch every time I touch you” “It’s… I’m having a hard time wrapping myself up in all of this! I’m so not used to physical contact and all of this seems like a dream, I don’t know… I’m just scared I screw everything up” “We’ll have to change that, then” he stated at me briefly before gabbing my hand and pull me against his chest. I tried to avoid eye contact but his hand in my neck made me lift my head on instinct.

Leif, age 12 and 5'5" with a wide chest and sturdy frame, marks him as one of the youngest, yet he holds true potential. His hair is a dark mop of curls, often wildly untamed. His eyes - pale green flecked with gold - shine with youthful defiance. He favours simple cotton shirts and well-worn leggings, though his tiny arms already bear the outline of where a future spiral tattoo might sit. At four years old and 3'6", Felix already tries to emulate his older brothers and sisters. His curls - jet black with tiny emerald tips - fall in soft ringlets. Wide ice-blue eyes brim with curiosity; he practices tiny sword-swings with a wooden blade. His frame is slender but energetic, clad in a miniatur

Clearing her throat, she continued, "Come on! Hers are so much bigger!" He shrugged again. "I like what I like. I mean, look," he said, and she almost cried out in surprise when he reached up and dropped his entire hand down over her left breast. "Yours are the perfect size." He squeezed the pale flesh meaningfully. "It's not so big that I wouldn't be able to play with all of it..." His fingers pushed gently into the flesh and stroked across, then returned to their starting points. "...It's not too small that I can't get a nice grip on it for when... well... you know," he said, his fingers tightening and pulling the whole orb downward.

Elara’s POV My breath catches. His hand completely dwarfs mine, his fingers extending well past the tips of mine, his palm easily twice the width of mine. The warmth of his skin against mine sends an odd flutter through my stomach. “Big enough?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. Flustered, I quickly lower my hand, breaking the contact. “They’re...gigantic.” He bristles. “Gigantic?” “Well, yeah. Look at them!” I gesture helplessly. “They’re huge!”

I look at the two figures beside her. “Hi! I’m Felix. Please call me they/them.” It’s the person who was next to me in the meeting hall. Their grin is huge, and now take a look at their tie-dye t-shirt, capris, and brown sandals. “Xenia,” the girl next to Felix says, with a shy smile. She’s short by werewolf standards. Probably like 5’5’’. She has long brown hair and brown eyes to match, and she’s wearing a cute yellow sundress, paired with black sandals. Oddly, has glasses on.

She loved it! Then she felt something pressed into each of her hands. Hard, hot cocks! She wrapped her fingers around them, and the two men began humping her hands. She knew from the feel that neither one was Mark. The cock of the new stranger in her left hand was probably a bit under six inches long, but it was fat! As he pushed and pulled it through her fingers, she could feel that it tapered to a sort of bullet-nose with only a small dip indicating the ridge of his knob. The one on her right was longer--at least seven inches she guessed and maybe eight--but was skinny by comparison. It also had a much more pronounced cock-head that was a good deal larger than the shaft, with a thick ridge