Les Knickers Novels & Stories

She couldn't resist the urge to taunt Lana. Unfazed, Lana responded, "We're all sisters here, Carol, but I have to warn you. That outfit you're wearing? It's a knockoff." Lana's remark not only stunned Carol but also triggered laughter among the other ladies. "Hey, country bumpkin, do you even know who Jennifer Anix is?" one of them jeered. "I seriously doubt it. But you should understand that her clothes are highly sought after and almost impossible to obtain," another added.

not something I would wear to work under normal circumstances, but I need to amp up the sex appeal; if he can play dirty, so can I I put on my most sexy black lace lingerie... not that he is going to see that, but to make me feel more sexy and up for the task. Then I put on a skimpy very tight leather skirt ... normally I would always wear leggings underneath, but not today. Uh I still have to remember that this is my job, and there will be other people, so I have to pull a little back on the shirt, nothing low cut... I pick out a tight fitting white tank top that says 'let's get naughty and spare Santa a trip'.

“Accessories: SHANNON PARKER.” “I am not an accessory!” I cursed under my breath, hurling the contact book in the trunk. It clunked against something hollow. Curious, I brushed away a layer of junk. Underneath the robes was a tight-fit cellar door. I scrunched my face in confusion. “What in the world?” I mouthed, fingering the brass knocker. It was shaped like a lion's head. The knocker snarled. I yelped, jumping back. It attempted to bite my hand.

I pulled out my phone. Me: knox. Small question. Completely casual. Is today some kind of themed dress-up event that everyone in the entire school knows about except me? The reply came in eleven seconds. Knox: .....Decades Day. Knox: Seniors are seventies. Knox: Are you not— Knox: Oh no. Me: I'm in the yellow dress. Knox: The devastating one?? Me: THE DEVASTATING ONE. Knox: Avery. Me: Don't.

KNOXX TAKES a look at the woman in front of him. He glanced over her body. She wore a fitted black t-shirt that emphasized her huge breasts and shorts that showed her long legs. He grinned and looked at the woman's breasts for a long time. Surely, his hands will perfectly fit around those mountains. He can imagine those long legs wrapping around his waist as he thrusts deeper inside her.

Luc unhooked the front clasp of her bra and laved at one nipple, while Deke tore off his shirt, sat back on his heels, and stared. “These have to come off.” He glared at the flesh-colored thong underwear she’d bought this morning so she’d have something sexy to wear. Before she could take hold of the waistband and peel them off, Deke grabbed one side. With hot male eyes in a face shouting that he was strung out on lust, he wrapped the wisp of fabric around his fist and pulled. A surprised gasp and a soft rip later, and Kimber was basically naked. Luc made basically a fact by pulling the blouse and bra down her shoulders, then sliding the skirt down her hips, to the floor.

Every once in awhile she just missed cuddling up to someone. "Oh fuck, the light," she sighed, and she pushed herself up off the bed as Nick wormed to one side. Turning it off she stumbled back to the soft mattress and fell down. "Mind if I take off my jeans?" slurred Nick. Karen laughed. "Sure, as long as you're wearing something underneath them!" "Uuummmm... boxers!" Nick said gleefully. Karen laughed again. She pulled off her bra from underneath her t-shirt, thankful that she'd already changed pants so that she didn't have to deal with any other clothing now that there was someone else in the room with her.

NICK My beautiful girl’s eyes as so wide as I unbutton her jeans. Her cheeks flushed and her breath short as I pulled down the zipper and slid the denim down her legs. Her knickers are perfect. Plain white cotton, understated and innocent. She’s perfect. She steps out of the jeans so gracefully, and she still has her socks on, fluffy and pink and cute enough to make my cock twitch. I drop to my knees, my face so close to her sweet pussy, hidden by damp knickers, and my breath lands right where I know she’s so tender. Dainty fingers brush my scalp, twist in my hair, and she murmurs.

My eyebrows shot up. “I told Clara not to pressure you,” I said. “You didn’t.” Kiara cut me off with a shrug. “They bribed me. With boots.” She gestured toward the back wall. It was lined with boots—black, purple, navy. Some ankle-high. Some knee-high. One pair of ridiculous thigh-highs. “Also,” she added with a totally straight face, “creepy lockets.” If a necklace looked like it might whisper threats in Latin at night, Libby had selected it.

I point to the one that looks remotely cheaper. “I’ll try that one,” I say. The associate nods and moves to pull it off the rack. But from behind me, Knox’s voice comes. “No.” I turn around. “No, what?” He steps closer, arms crossed. “It’s too long. And are those sleeves?” I blink at him. “What’s wrong with sleeves? And what do you mean it’s long? That’s like… calf length.” “Exactly,” he says, as if I’ve just confirmed his diagnosis. “Why would you want to wear anything that isn’t above the knees?”