Skirt Chasing Novels & Stories

A voluptuous woman entered, wearing a dark orange color dress and high heels. Her neck was decorated with three layers of peals hanging one under another. She had brown curly hair reaching her shoulder. Narrow long eyes, a sharp nose, and thin lips. With a swift moment, she was in front of me. I turned towards Loren. He disappeared. Where? I looked around to find him. He was hiding in the narrow space between the shelf and the wall. And was gesturing some actions towards me.

The hunger, the barely restrained need. I was wearing a skirt today, a short one, the kind Harley had convinced me to buy during our shopping trip last week. I had thrown it on this morning without thinking, paired with a simple top and sandals. His eyes dropped to my legs and stayed there. "That skirt," he muttered, almost to himself. I tried to joke. "What about it?" "Been distracting me all day." His hand slid down my waist, over my hip, to the hem of the skirt. His fingers played with the fabric.

With her left hand still occupied with her breasts, her right hand moved down, sliding under the hem of her skirt. She lifted the skirt inch by inch, savouring the exposure of her legs. The floor was hard and unforgiving, but her skin was flushed with heat. She moved her hand up her thigh, her fingers tracing her skin just above her knee. She took her time, dragging her nails lightly along the crease, feeling the gooseflesh rise in response. She moved higher, closer to the apex of her thighs, the anticipation making her heart to race.

~11~ Chiara I tied my hair up in a messy bun because I didn't have time to style it after washing it. Humming to some tune I didn’t even recognize, my fingers grazed the length of the shoe rack as my eyes chose for tonight. I looked down at my black short skirt, paired with a silver top underneath a black jacket, and smiled when my eyes locked onto a perfect match. “Come to, Mama,” I said, grabbing the silver high thigh boots with long narrow heels. I plopped on a fur ottoman to pull them on. Still humming. Where the hell did I hear this song?

Her skirt showed off her slender legs, her feet were bare. "Is that a new outfit?" Harold asked. Heather skipped over to where he was sitting and did a quick pirouette for him. "I got it at the mall the other day. Do you like it?" Harold loved it. The plaid mid-thigh skirt reminded him of the school girl skirts of his youth. Her simple white polo shirt matched it wonderfully. "It's... very nice." "I'm glad you like it, you bought it," she answered, giggling. She did another spin, a little faster. Her skirt flew up, giving her father a rather indecent show.

We don't perceive pain like others. "Here, wear this." Chloe tosses a slouchy red shirt, and a black skirt at me. Holding them up I inspect them further. "Maybe to the shirt, hell no to she skirt." I toss the black tube top she calls a skirt back at her. "Oh my god, you're going to be the lady that wears yoga pants on your wedding day, aren't you?" She purses her lips, one hand on her hip. "Maybe," I laugh. "Try the damn skirt on, it's really soft material." She tosses the black skirt back at me.

The evening held a slight breeze that tugged at Aimee's blond hair, making her consistently snatch at it to tuck it behind her ears. The battle was equally as frustrating with the skirt she chose to wear, as the wind kept flapping the fabric around her thighs and jerking the skirt up in the air, exposing her ass if she wasn't careful.

Even worse, though, she might topple on the long skirt, fall down the stairs, and break her slender neck. She gathered up the thick, long material of the skirt and hugged it against her chest as she raced. Oh, dear God! She could hear them coming after her, laughing merrily like they used to when they were children. God! She couldn’t believe they hadn’t changed. Not one bit. “You’re still running the same old route, my dear Silly Sally,” Alaina shouted after her from the top of the stairs. Tara giggled as if she were really thrilled at the thought of chasing and hunting down Sakura.

He looked up again just in time to see them dashing into a corner. Brown skirt was Kyra! And that kid didn't look safe in that chase. "Holy shit," he swore under his breath, and beach shirt flying, he joined in the chase, skipping over fishes and oranges and listening to his hard breaths as they hit his ears. His motive was no longer to get attention toward them, for there was no helping that but to save that kid. Whoever he was...

"Please take off your skirt." For a moment, Aphrodite blushed. She bowed her head, and her white slender fingers trembled as she untied the laces of her skirt at her waist. The yellow skirt fell to the ground, exposing the white silk petticoat. Her hand stopped, and she looked at Nuri with a troubled expression. Nuri came to his senses, turned his back to her, and she continued to unbutton her petticoat.