Peters New Suit Novels & Stories

I was not at all impressed compared to him and his abs, not with my noodle arms and plastic straw legs. The door opened, and Adam popped in before quickly closing it behind him. He was holding a suit in a bag. “I managed to find something closer to your size from my old suits, but it’s still going to be a little loose on the shoulders. Hope you don’t mind,” he walked towards his desk and hung the suit on the back of his chair. “I’ve already sent your suit to be laundered. Mrs. Perez promised that it would be done before the party ended.”

Five minutes stretched into three before the door opened again. “Peter Calvin to see you, sir.” “Send him in.” Pete entered, his tall frame filling the doorway. Dressed in a suit, with his tie loosened, he looked less like the Pete he was and more like a business man on his way to a conference. But I knew better. Behind that composed exterior was a man who could come up with amazing plans and unveil secrets with a single phone call. Besides our partnership in business, he was good at things like this.

Not only was he going to make it fail, but he was also going to make her feel bad for it! Britney controlled her anger as she looked at Tyler’s car driving away. She then stomped the ground and cursed, “Crazy… They’re all crazy!” “I told you. Don’t make any moves without thinking it through.” Peter appeared, wearing a thin khaki jacket with a white t-shirt inside. His clothes were perfectly neat with not even a hint of folding. However, the expression on his face was extremely cold. He had one hand in his pocket, and the other massaged his neck.

"If you can make that happen, then I'll make sure that you get all my sperm when we get home tonight, no matter who I'm fucking." She squealed. "That's a deal, big brother. She pointed into his private bathroom. "There is a new suit for you hanging in your personal bathroom there. It's from the tailor Greg took you to. He called and told Greg that he had several of the pants you'd ordered ready and one of the suits that you ordered. I figured you should start looking like a CEO here in the office. I know you won't change your shoes to dress shoes but your Converse all stars will just show you as not traditional. I also didn't bring you a dress shirt as such but picked up a long sleeve three

As they made their way from the parking lot to the entrance of the building now, with Pete walking a few steps ahead, his back appearing even more tense and straight in this perfectly fitting, expensive suit and with his black hair cut way too short for D’s taste, she told herself once again that she needed to change her attitude – at least for this evening. She had agreed to come along, so she needed to get through this halfway gracefully. And she needed to never agree to any friendship services like this again!

That, sure enough, will make him hurry up at whatever he was doing. She went into the bathroom, had a really slow and nice shower, washing and shaving everything and everywhere properly. Came out from the bathroom with just a new red bra and a matching red panty – those not covering everything made with a net-like material and has a smooth feel. She slides back into the soft bed with a glass of champagne, tune down the air conditioner and turned on the TV. At exactly twenty-six past eight pm, the door slides open again and Peter in his entire glory stepped in. He was in a dashing black suit with a red tie that matched her underwear. What a coincidence?

This was new to them. Peter had already risen, hearing the cry. He angrily jumps out of bed and takes a shower. Once he is changed he strides down to the dining room and awaits his breakfast. He is wearing an elegant silver grey suit, a crisp white shirt and a grey tie. His hair is unruly on his head and his face unshaven. After a night of drowning his sorrows he weilds a headache from this unexpected alarm clock.

“He’s not all that far off from one of the cover guys. I could make a really good version of him. He’s going to age even better. Grey hair will really suit him.” It would, yeah. He was in his usual kind of suit, and no matter how many times I saw him in them, they always drove me crazy. He was looking less lean in them now. Filling out nicely – no doubt because of the fantastic dinners he was sharing with me. “Peter looks great, too,” I told her. “He’s got that rough kind of stubble which makes him look hardcore.”

Because it sure fucking sounded like it! “You’re here,” I said again, through gritted teeth, “to make me look good. So sit there. And look good.” He sat down and shut up, at least. Good? Did he look good? His new black suit definitely did something for him, setting off the way he didn’t seem at all like the kind of man who’d wear one. Putting a wolf in a shiny collar didn’t make it a lapdog. And Dimitri in a suit exuded more danger than ever.

Peter pleads, tears streaming down his face as he clutches at my foot, his despair palpable. I breathe, closing my eyes as I think about whether I should end his life or not. The hassle of finding someone as good as him isn’t pleasing, and the last thing I need is more trouble. So I decide against it. I pull my feet out of his grasp and button my Armani suit. “I want it by the end of the day,” I say, my voice firm. Peter’s head snaps up, and he stares at me in disbelief. “Would that be a problem?” I ask, and he quickly shakes his head.