Pocketbook For Men Novels & Stories

And I want to feel him on me again. "Alright." I lick my lower lip. "So about the book recs…you still want them?" "Oh, yeah. Right." He digs both hands into his pockets, and then rocks back and forth on his heels. His black t-shirt is stretched over a broad chest, failing to hide toned biceps he must have acquired from the gym. I transfer my gaze to his forehead so he won't catch me staring. "I left my phone back in my room. But then I want the ebooks on my laptop. You know, bigger fonts and all that."

and bailed out. The pungent scent of pot smoke wafted out of Mike’s truck as Brandt opened the door. A roach clip dangled from the rearview mirror, weighted with feathers and skinny strips of leather. He pushed aside food wrappers and empty beer cans until he found a small bright orange fanny pack. Since he’d forgotten to ask specifics about size and color, he unzipped the main compartment. His hand froze. It wasn’t the unopened package of condoms that snared his interest, but the hand-tooled leather wallet.

if so maybe they will come here late. Putting his hand on his pocket, he picks up a box that is smaller than his smartphone. It is also thin which is why it is not hard for him to put it in his pocket. "I never thought I will have a chance to use this..."

he muttered, prying it open just enough to reach inside. His fingers brushed against something thick. He pulled it out. A large, leather-bound book. Adam stood up slowly, turning it over in his hands. The cover was worn but solid, darker than the dust-covered room around him, like it had been hidden on purpose. Protected. “Who leaves something like this behind?” he said under his breath. For a moment, he considered tossing it aside. It wasn’t his business but curiosity had already taken hold. He leaned back against the counter, flipping the cover open.

Ovan lay on top of her, half-flipping his eyes, and said feebly, "The passport is in my trouser pocket. I have no money." Janelle gritted her teeth and wished she could just leave this man here. He doesn't take any money with him when he goes abroad? It seemed that he really didn't have the habit of bringing cash with him. He was accompanied by the driver or Brad, at ordinary times. If he does't have money, he must have a card. She reached out to touch his pocket. Her fingers were slender and soft. Every time she moved around, his body became a little tight.

She wondered if he might have a money belt under his shirt, but his slender form sure didn’t look like it. Dominic stood up and extracted an old brown leather wallet from his back pocket. No, not really a wallet, Leesa thought. It was a little too big to be called a wallet, and it had an inch-wide strap and a brass clasp that kept it closed, like a purse. Yet it was too small to be considered a purse. Whatever it was, it was clearly very old—the leather was dark and lined with age. Surprisingly, the corners showed no wear at all. And though she had just seen Dominic pull it from his pocket, it now looked too large to have fit in there.

My breasts were full and the nipples were even harder with the sudden cool air hitting them. I watched as he pulled his shorts down, revealing his manhood. It was already completely erect, and my eyes popped out a little at how big he was. I laughed to myself when I thought of what his secretary was missing out on. He rummaged in the pockets of his bathing suit while it was in his hands, pulling out a cell phone and a wallet. He carefully placed his phone on the nightstand next to the bed before opening his wallet and pulling out a square package. I smiled. He was thoughtful.

Huh. She had to think about that. Was there anything important they hadn't talked about? An idea popped into her head. "Do you have pictures in your wallet of your family?" "Not in my wallet, but on my phone." He reached into the back pocket of his shorts and pulled out a leather wallet. "ID's in there. You should look at it." From the other pocket he pulled a smart phone and started pushing buttons.

Hidden in plain sight. No one notices a man’s wallet if it looks worn enough. Mine has a false back, stitched so cleanly it feels factory-made. The phone slips in flat, invisible to anyone opening it for an ID or a card. The staff could search me, pat me down, even turn the wallet over in their hands, and still they would never know.

I waved both of my hands, hoping she would know that I am grateful. "Oh right, I forgot..." She said before she reached in to the front pocket of her pink apron. The woman pulled out a pink mini notebook with a snap button and a small pen tucked in the gap of the strap. "Here." She said as she offered me the notebook. Accepting the book with both of my hands, I looked down at it with confusion. "I thought it might come in handy. Besides it's small enough to fit in to a wide pocket so you can carry it anywhere." The woman said.