Marceline No Smoking Shirt Novels & Stories

I’ll give him that. Marcello takes a long drag from a fat cigar and puffs out a huge cloud of smoke. “What brings you to this side of town, Ace?” “Are you aware that this is a no-smoking zone?” “Huh?” With my chin, I point to the NO SMOKING sign on the wall. “Oh…” He takes yet another drag and puffs it in the air. “Rules are meant to be broken, my boy.” Faith coughs slightly and waves the smoke.

he asks, still not believing his ears. “Very.” “Marcella, I….” “You can take whatever you want,” I cut in, crossing my arms with a playful tilt of my head. “Anything in this mall. I’m paying.” That does it. He freezes completely. I swear he even stops breathing. I laugh softly, shaking my head. “You’re so dramatic.” Before he can argue again, I turn and start scanning through the clothes. Then I find it. A crisp, fitted charcoal-gray shirt…. slightly textured, with a sharp collar and subtle silver buttons. Clean. Elegant. Powerful.

In fact, he often spends holidays with my family. Marcel is forty-nine with short, limp dark brown hair fading grey at the edges. He has a salt and pepper trimmed beard and soft hazel eyes. Outside of the frown lines on his forehead he only has some slight creasing around the corners of his eyes, but no other wrinkles to be seen. He always dresses sharply and is currently in black slacks, black Armani dress shoes, a black pinstripe shirt and a black tie with a gold diamond pattern in the design. He’s also wearing his usual gold wolf cufflinks. He loves anything to do with wolves, he even owns one as a pet which he named Blade, who is absolutely gorgeous! I step out of the cab as Marcel walks

Lia: The steam clung to my skin as I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in the robe that was in the bathroom. I knew that it was a new one, a fresh one to be exact. But I didn’t know whether or not I was allowed to use it. I just knew that I wouldn’t walk out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. For a moment, I just stood there, unsure of what I was walking into. Marcel looked up from where he stood near the balcony doors. His gaze flicked over me once, quick, assessing, and then he spoke like nothing about this situation was strange.

His arse was pointed towards the door, the position revealing both the beta’s balls clasped by a stretcher and cock ring, and that Reid had missed the main event, from the cum stains. “He can’t talk,” Marcella was dressed in a peacock blue satin kimono, untied, revealing that was all that she wore. She was fresh from the shower, her skin bare of makeup and carrying the scent of her soap. It had been a long time since Reid had seen Marcella without a wig, and seeing her dark hair slicked back to her skull brought back many memories of the past with Marcel.

Marcel hesitated a moment as if he was trying to remember something, "And tell Victor I'm leaving without him if he continues to spend time dressing up like a lady," "Aye, boss," Samuel said, speaking instructions in lowered tone into the wired comms in his ear. He was dressed in a suit just as the other soldiers that would be coming with him on this journey. Marcel abandoned the suit and chose to wear a charcoal black fitted turtleneck top with its corresponding pants, finalizing his look with a burgundy red coat since the weather was cold today. With his blonde hair gelled back, Marcel looked particularly classy - and of course warm- with the coat giving a minimalistic look with the button

That night I can barely sleep, tomorrow is Friday so I just have to wait one more day till I find out what Carlos has in store for me. The next day drags on, my thoughts are too preoccupied to sketch and Marcels babbling rampage of thoughts and historical facts seem to be in full action all day long make the day feel even more long. When 8pm hits Marcel claps his hands together "I know, let's go get you something nice to wear for tomorrow" I cross my arms and frown at his words "I don't even know where I'm going or what I'm doing, how will I know what to wear?!" I proclaim "well there's no harm in showing up looking your best" he says and quickens his pace ahead towards a bundle of clothing

He was bringing in some of his stuff when he saw her staring at a shirt of his. She turned around as she heard him come in. "What in God's name is this?" She asked, amusement dancing in her eyes. Marcel cringed at the sight of his old shirt, his sister Juliet had gifted him on his 22nd birthday. It was a shirt with his face on it. He was lying down on the toilet seat completely wasted. His eyes were shut and there was puke at the corner of his mouth “You look ridiculous.” Abigail said, holding back laughter.

On my way home, I decided to make a quick stop. I went into a jewelry store and got some beautiful pieces for Marceline — a necklace and matching earrings. Something simple but elegant, just the way she liked. I made sure to be careful this time, not to repeat the mistake I made with the dress. After that, I stopped by a flower shop and picked a fresh bouquet of white roses. Marceline loved white roses. I could almost see her face when I handed them to her — that faint, soft smile I hadn’t seen in so long.