Merk Pakaian Dalam Pria Novels & Stories

Why the hell will Adam buy me these clothes, huh? Does he buy these himself? Or do his men buy it themselves? I bit my lower lip as I saw a few sexy lingeries inside. Lacy panties, nighties, and more! My eyes went to the bras he bought. It’s not even my size! It’s bigger than my size! Well, I guess I have to wear my bra again. These aren’t my size, goodness! Few paper bags have summer dresses and shirts inside. All are from different famous clothing brands. I couldn't find one when I tried to search for tops and shorts.

I say as I admire him looking stylish and hot. "I'll choose for you," he says and looks through my suitcase the find me some white shorts that go mid-thigh and a pink button up shirt that he tells me to half button up. He hands me my speedos and I shake my head. "No way," I laugh because I'm not wearing those in front of people. "Come on please," he says and I shake my head again. "But I have no dick to fill them out," I whine. "You've got a packer, wear that," he says and I blush. A packer is like a fake soft dick that I put in the front of underwear to look like I have a bulge.

He moves back to give me room to get under his desk, and I get to work on pleasing him as he commands. ~~~~~~~~ Low voices wake me from a nap as I lay on the couch in Knox’s office. Opening my eyes, I see all three of my guys sitting around the big desk, all looking good in their own way. Knox is in his usual dress shirt and dress slacks, Jory’s wearing his signature black ripped jeans with a band t-shirt, sporting his black combat boots, but it’s Merrick that I always get a kick out of. He doesn’t dress the way you would expect someone like him to dress. Aside from certain occasions, you will almost always find him in joggers and a comfy t-shirt or sweatshirt, matched with one of his many p

Cold, silent, strong and literally nothing could give away that he cared about anything. He had a walk in closet that was filled with dress pants, suit jackets and shirts. Most of which were black. There was also a dresser and I opened up the drawers to finally find what I was looking for. In one drawer there were neatly folded plain black shirts and the one under it was filled with plain white shirts. Marek probably used them as undershirts considering I had never seen him, even in his downtime, without a collar and cuffs. Pulling out of the black ones, I slipped off my shirt and pulled this on. Sure enough, it came almost to my knees and it fell off one of my shoulders. Still, it was perfe