Peyton List Bare Feet Novels & Stories

He sent her away. “All right, then. Have it your way.” Clay blows out a breath, reaches behind his back, and peels his shirt off over his head. My wolf cocks her head. His skin is goose-bumped, his dark nipples beaded. His hands move to his belt. Neither of us look away. He shucks his jeans and boots and stands barefoot on the cold pebbles, his long cock pale and dangling between his hairy thighs. He cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders.

She was walking on heels and I could see the blisters on her ankles but she was still walking with them. "I don't think we can find any places like where we want to stay. Let's just return to the car and sleep there tonight. I hope we can search for some alternative tomorrow,"she said. "Okay, ....but..., " I said. "But,... What?, " she replied instantly. "Will you be okay with your legs?, I think they are having blisters," I said. "Oh... This one...," she took out her shoes and started walking barefoot. How can I let the lady walk barefooted?

A wide grin on her face as she bounces in place. "Ready?" she asks. "Someone's excited," Peyton says, and she nods. "It feels more like he's a part of us. It's a good feeling" she nods again, and my heart clenches. "Let's go" I make my way to the door, but Peyton grabs my arm gently. "You need shoes on" his voice is soft, and it makes my stomach flutter. He drops down to his knee, and helps me put on my shoes. It's a little hard to bend down, so he's been helping me. And everytime, it makes me feel giddy.

Boys aren't supposed to look like that, or sound like that, or have size seven feet! "You like my feet, don't you, Bobby?" Shelly had pulled me down to my knees, tugging on my necktie until she had me right where she wanted me. Her legs were bare, but she had such smooth skin, tanned and toned, she didn't need stockings. Shelly wore patent leather shoes, expensive ones, probably, with open toes and spiked heels. Her toenails were red like her lips and fingers, and she had small, female feet. I'd spent three years selling shoes at Pay-Less as a teenage boy, so I had a lot of experience with women's feet and Shelly's were incredible.

She pulls her glasses onto her face, her eyes still focused on the yacht we’re about to board. “Peyton, darling.” Gram pulls her eyes from the yacht and wraps an arm around Peyton. “Yes, Gram?” “Why is there nothing penis-shaped at this party?” “Gram, I never want to hear the word ‘penis’ from your mouth ever again.” Peyton shivers. “They’re ready for us!” Mom calls, taking the hand of one of the crew members as he escorts her up the stairs to the boat. Peyton excitedly claps before she throws the T-shirt at me. “Put it on, Preston. Let’s go celebrate one of my final nights as a Rhodes!” She runs away before she can hear any of my protests.

"Just a suggestion, but if you plan to come out here in the moonlight again you might want to wear something a little less, uh, flimsy than that T-shirt." Peyton looked down and felt herself blush to the roots of her hair. She hadn't expected to share living quarters, so she hadn't given a lot of thought to her wardrobe. She was wearing her oldest sleep shirt. When she looked down, she realized how thin it was, how worn after all these years. Her nipples poked at the fabric and stood out like giant gumdrops, and her purple bikini panties might as well not have been covered at all. "I, ah, I'm - "

~~PEYTON~~ Tonight, I want to sin. Like, really sin. I wear a dress that screams "fuck me." Deep cleavage, loose hair black as the night itself. The fabric clings to my every curve, like a second skin barely covering my thigh. I wouldn't even dare touch my toes. I put my makeup skills to good use, creating dark eyeliner that's sharp and defined, like a wildcat on a mission. I even dared to wear four-inch heels—the kind of sky-high torture devices I usually avoid.

So shorts and a tank, that's all she would need, with a comfortable pair of shoes. Peyton turned her back on the discarded mountain of clothes on her bed and walked over to her dresser. She pulled out the drawer and selected a pair of denim shorts and a pale pink tank. She put on a comfortable sports bra instead of the lacy, push-up number she had been planning on wearing, and a soft pair of cotton boy-short briefs. Not the least bit sexy, but extremely comfortable.

Once we had all finished our food, Layken left Tenley and me so we could shower and leave. “Tenley, my shoes are at the bottom of the pond. Do you have any I could borrow?” “What size shoe do you wear?” “I wear a size seven.” “You are in luck, same here. Pick any pair you would like,” Tenley said. Then she opens her closet, showing me over fifty pairs of shoes that could fit any occasion.

"Good. You can take a break for now. You can take off the shoes." I didn't waste any time as I bent down and removed the shoes. Throwing them to the side as if I had no care for them, which I don't. The ground seemed to comfort me as I fully felt the whole floor with my foot. I didn't even bother to look for my flats as I raced to the sofa. "Flat ground! Flat ground!" I rejoiced and ran barefooted. I wonder how some of these girls were able to bear wearing those heels. What a pain. I started to stretch my legs on the sofa not caring about manners anymore.