Obanai Shirtless Novels & Stories

He was shirtless and had his back turned, his boy was tanned, and boy was he ripped, his arms were huge, I know they were from the clothes he wore but seeing him bareback was a different story. “Taking your fill I see” shit, I've been caught staring.

Once I got his permission, I slip inside the room, but then almost turns back when I saw he was shirtless, with just a white towel covering his waist down. He has a freaking eight packs and narrow waist. Muscles budges across his screen, and one directly lay from his waist and disappear into the towel. He is such a feast to the eyes I almost forget what I was here for. I cover my eyes, embarrassed that I had stare for a good while. "You could have told me you're dressing." "I'm just shirtless. Not a big deal." "I'll wait for you to wear something." "Whatever makes you happy." In less than ten seconds, he told me to turn around as he is done putting on his shirt.

Brittany said then they glance at Brittany who is wearing rashguard honestly speaking Brittany, is not a fan of sexy things she's more like a fitted suits but not that daring and She's more comfortable with rashguards than bikini. Most of the Slave wear bikinis except for her but she didn't even care, she's like that she want to suits her taste not to others taste. "Hello..," a very deep baritone voice resounded on there ears, and most of the slave giggle when they hear the voice it's there most favorite person it's King Shun Yu, she's wearing white beach style sleeveless shirt and trunks King Shun Yu defines for a hot bachelor model she's a definition of power and dominant's even in swimwea

I’m not kidding. Then I zoomed in on another picture and paused. His shirt looked… wrong? Like, off. I looked up and— My brain short-circuited. He was shirtless. Standing there in front of everyone, abs glistening like they’d been painted on, tattoos crawling across his chest and arm — a massive bird spreading its wings like it could fly off his skin. I forgot to breathe. And then people started screaming. Phones came up, girls pushed forward, and I was right there with them.

"What's this?" "A robe and a towel," he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Go put it on, and wrap the towel around your head—like you just came out of the shower. You need it for the next setup." I want to ask why, but he turns back to his camera, dismissing me. Sighing, I head to the restroom, swap my tee for the robe, and leave my shorts on. No way I’m flashing anyone today. I get the answer to the question I wanted to ask when I head back to the studio to find Levi shirtless, wearing only a thin shorts made from the same silky fabric.

But Tarzan wasn’t in the room. Then he heard the tap running in the bathroom. He must be taking a shower. He walked over to take a look, a part of him strangely excited. What he didn’t expect was the sight of Tarzan standing at the sink, shirtless, wearing only a pair of loose sweatpants that hung low on his hips. In his hands was a red lace thong, which he was carefully washing under the running water. Damon froze in the doorway with eyes widened. “What the fuck am I looking at right now?!”

Standing there was Victor, spreading his undeniable charm; except he was shirtless, with a towel wrapped around his waist, dangerously low. Oh, what the....

ALORA "Are you sure that you don't want to go for a swim?" Noah asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, leaving him bare chested before reaching for his belt to unbuckle it. I won't even lie. He looks so buff and huge that I almost lost my balance from staring. I tried to pretend like I was okay with it but I wasn't. He was literally getting undressed in front of him and it wasn't just him. Half the entire school was here and half naked.

Declan stood at the island, shirtless again, dumping protein powder into the blender like he owned the entire building. “Rule one.” I yelled over the noise “Shirt On, Now.” He turned the blender off and grinned that cocky, panty-melting smirk. “Rule two, you don’t get to walk around looking like that and then demand I cover up. Those shorts are illegal, Savage.” He shot back. “These are standard athletic wear, you Neanderthal.” I grabbed an apple from the ridiculous fruit basket the sponsor left and hurled it at his head. He caught it one handed, took a bite, and winked. Before I could launch something heavier, my phone started blowing up.

No shame. I knocked on the door. He opened it without a word. He was in jeans, barefoot, shirtless, with the muscles of his chest and arms tensed, on display, lit only by the weak light of the bedside lamp. In his right hand, a black satin strip. In his gaze, pure dominance. "Take off the robe," he ordered, his voice low and firm. Without hesitating, I undid the tie. I let the fabric slip from my shoulders, fall down my arms, until it touched the floor.