Patrick Dempsey Shirtless Novels & Stories

Right now, the sexy back clothes I was wearing a while ago have been covered by my thick coat. "Who dares to bring you here?" asked the man who offered me a drink. He has a familiar voice. OMG, dad?! I jerked my head upward to clearly see the man. "D-Damion?" He's not wearing any tops, so I saw his perfectly built abs. He wore denim pants and he was sweating. It added to his already hot aura!

"I was looking for the milk." ​"With a box of cold potatoes?" ​"They were on the same shelf." I finally turned to face him, leaning my lower back against the marble counter. ​Damien had changed out of his suit. He was wearing a pair of dark cotton trousers and a black crewneck sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His hair was slightly messy, a rare departure from the sleek perfection he presented to the boardrooms. He looked human. He looked like the man who used to stay up with me until dawn, arguing over the acoustics of concert halls.

My outfit today was sultry, another reason I got that look from my mother, I was dressed like a high-paid slut with a little bit of emo aesthetics. A black dress shirt that stopped a little bit below my ass and a stock boot. The shirt was mesh, I didn't wear anything underneath apart from a pair of black lingerie. So basically I was half naked. Not like I minded, I loved the outfit, it was one of my favourite wear. I looked like a hoe. Loved it. I got to Damien's room and knocked gently, within seconds, the door opened to reveal a bare chest Damien, who seemed to have just gotten out of the shower,

It had been a long weekend without Christy, and with an urgent erection that demanded immediate attention, Reggie looked forward to spending extra time with her. Christy grabbed a pair of olive colored Capris pants and a beige blouse. But before she put them on, Reggie entered her room shirtless, tremendous muscles in his chest, arms and stomach bulging beneath his dark skin as if sculpted in stone. His baggy, black gym shorts poorly concealed the huge protrusion caused by his gigantic cock. "You gonna go somewhere, baby?"

Ryder’s face tightened as he watched Dominique furtively. He curled his fists as his pulse quickened. Dominique was shirtless and had laid a plaid on the rocky outcrop, which he had marked to sleep with Lyle. He removed his dagger with its sheath from his belt and placed it on the side. Then he picked up Lyle and set her on the plaid. But why the hell was he shirtless? Was he trying to show her his youth or how fit he was? Dominique brushed her hair to the side and looked at her with fondness that didn’t sit well with Ryder.

He had just one tattoo drawing, on his heart area, like a comic parody of — is that Cat Woman? And more than that, he emitted a darker aura than the other two. For the love of God, are those abs even real? They were all so fucking ripped, like those men who give hardcore BDSM fucks in those p**n videos I watch with Gilda. Oh gosh! Was this the sex suite? The one sitting seemed ripped, as his shirt fit him like a glove, stretching out his muscles, and also the one standing with a phone, he was fucking ripped. But the one dressed in black and had a shirt on his shoulder? He was fucking shredded. A buff fellow, my God!

Dawn shook her head. “Let’s start with the good news.” “We have actual clothes. I found two of your shorts in here. They probably got mixed in with mine,” Maxwell said. “But the only shirts we have are these.” He pulled out one extra-large T-shirt with a print that read: [I Put the ‘Max’ in Maximum Pleasure] “And this is yours,” Maxwell said, showing a small-sized shirt that read: [I Survived the Max Attack!]

*Mature Content* “Am I supposed to mark you back?” I asked suddenly as the question came to me. Damien chuckled, I was watching him as he made breakfast the next morning, he only wore loose-fitting sweatpants and no shirt, and I didn’t argue his choice of clothing in the slightest. I, myself, wore only one of his button-down shirts. I always saw women doing it in movies and thought it was sexy, so I decided to try it this morning. Damien smiled with approval when he saw me.

Demien stepped in, zipped the tent closed, and started undressing without a word. He pulled off his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest, defined abs, and that perfect V-line disappearing into his shorts. Then the shorts came off. He wasn’t wearing underwear. His thick cock hung heavy between his muscular thighs, already half-hard. I couldn’t stop staring. The memory of him eating Lena’s pussy and then fucking her senseless kept flashing in my mind, making my own cock twitch desperately. Demien noticed. Of course he did. He walked over to me, completely naked, and stopped right in front of my face. His cock was now fully hard, thick and beautiful, the head already glistening with pre-cum.

Alexander Hamilton. He wore a casual white t-shirt with a black ripped jeans. The white t-shirt perfectly skinned to his body. His shoulder muscles are bulging under the white tshirt. His biceps seeming very tight under his t-shirt. It suits perfectly well to him and making him even more dangerously handsome. He is looking more younger in this attire than the office suits. I mentally scolded myself, why the heck he has to be in this place. And why is he staring at me like I'm a terrorist.