Marceline No Smoking Shirt Novels & Stories

Sighing, I take off my shirt and set my gym towel on the edge of the treadmill when I catch sight of her. She hasn't exactly noticed me since I didn't bother turning on the lights to the gym. But the lights from the house are bright and I can see her clear as day. I watch as Marcella stands at the shallow end of the pool, observing the water. Then she looks around a bit as if trying to make sure no one is watching. In slow, cautious, and precise movements, she takes off her white silk robe. Fuck. Is she wearing a....swimsuit?

She was sitting over him naked, in her shorts. “Oops!” she smiled and acted to cover her breasts, her round, pinkish-brown areolae staring in his face. Valentina and Ambrosia took off their t-shirts and started giggling. They kept playing with their straps looking at Marcellus. “Yes, I am in heaven,” sighed Marcellus with pleasure. He was waiting for Hazel. She didn’t remove her t-shirt, she removed her pyjamas and walked close to Marcellus in her panty.

My tone oozed sarcasm. Marcel was no longer wearing his black armor, but instead a simple get-up of a blue long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves folded to his shoulders, as well as a black trouser and a fancy shoe. He now looked like your everyday civilian, but I knew better. Anyway, he shook his head with an amused smile before he spoke. "I've been sitting here watching over you the whole time. You must've been really tired, you slept like a baby." He chuckled but then stopped when he saw the stern expression on my face. That made him cough awkwardly before he continued. "I brought you hot cocoa with a touch of caramel."

It wasn't the sight of the grilled steaks and sauce that had her swallowing. No. It wasn't. Not that she hadn't found it yummy but something more yummier had her swallowing hard. Her breathing rose to another crescendo with every delicate octave of the orchestra. Shannon walked towards the freezer, pulling out a bottle of chilled water. "Hey," Shannon spoke, acknowledging the male who hadn't seemed to notice them come in. He had been too engrossed in whatever he was doing. Marcel had black suit pants on, he was completely shirtless. He was lean but pads of rock hard muscles defined his chest and arms. Everything was perfectly contoured like a pair of skillful hands had crafted them, his shou

“Welcome back.” He was the only teacher who actually cared. He always had a flannel with a gold cross with clean shoes. He’s always smiling. I mean when you’re married to a model, who wouldn’t smile all the time? “You’ll keep these seats all semester,” he said. Bella raised her hand immediately. “Yes, Bella?” “There’s already a problem. I need to move.” “What’s the issue?” “These people are annoying. Weird. And they smell.” “At least I don’t smell like caramel,” Mason said.