Skirt Chasing Novels & Stories

The man gave a dark chuckle. A shiver ran down her spine but Yonnah barely moved. "Well it seems our work here is done. Let's go, gentlemen." The leader got up and went to the door with others following. When he was at the door, he turned back to woman kneeling on the floor. "I hope you don't regret your decision."

As the shirt fell to the ground, his eyes never leaving mine, I felt a sense of liberation wash over me. “Now the skirt,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire. With trembling hands, I began to unzip the skirt, each moment building the anticipation between us. The air crackled with electricity as I finally let it fall to the floor, standing before him in nothing but lace and desire. The skirt fell from my grasp, pooling at my feet as I stood there, vulnerable yet empowered, ready to embrace whatever came next. The intensity of the moment was intoxicating, and I knew there was no turning back now.

she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice. "It's simple," I said, leaning in conspiratorially. "You just have to subtly flick your earlobe. Like this." I demonstrated, gently tugging on my own earlobe. "Subtle, yet effective." She actually chuckled, the sound like music to my ears. "That's ridiculous," she said, shaking her head. "But... alright. If I need rescuing, I'll flick my earlobe." "Excellent!" I exclaimed, clapping my hands together. "Now, let's go wreak some havoc and make Kaizer regret for not chasing you"

A sleeveless, form-fitting black crop top on top a matching high-waisted black mini skirt paired with a pair of tall black boots. Chloe really had good taste in clothes. Hopefully, I would see her at the party and we could straighten things out. One look in the mirror and I almost changed my mind. The skirt was shorter than anything I’d ever worn but it looked hot. This was my first party. I had to look like I belonged. I crept out of my room. My heart thumped in my chest. The Luna would have my head if she caught me. I found the back door. My hand trembled as I turned the handle. I stepped out into the cool night air, feeling a rush of adrenaline.

Satish noticed how stunning she looked, and admiration filled his heart. He fancied tearing her clothes and seeing what she wore underneath. He would kiss her breasts and examine every aspect of her, but he was aware that the moment had not yet arrived. Her skirt flowed gracefully around her when she walked, swaying with each step. Its soft fabric brushed against her stockinged legs, adding a touch of elegance to her every movement. The skirt's delicate floral pattern further enhanced her feminine charm, as did the way it fit her buttocks perfectly, showcasing her curves subtly yet alluringly. Maria's presence completely engrossed Satish. Her poise and confidence shone through with every gra

Zoe’s patience and understanding continued, determined to help me find an outfit. After going back and forth for a while, Zoe and I finally picked out a chic and classy outfit. The sleek black skirt flowed gracefully to my ankles, with a fancy ruffle adding a playful twist. It hugged my curves just right, giving a hint of charm without showing too much. I matched the skirt with an off-white top that flowed gracefully over me. Two lovely fabric flowers decorated the chest, giving a delicate touch to the outfit. It felt a bit dressy, but overall, it looked charming and elegant.

I start to pull them on when the beast reminds me that he is there, growling, "Remove the other ones first..." Not wanting him to touch or slap me again, I do as he says. I put the skirt back onto the table and then removed my underwear; I shiver as he lets out a low growl. Once they are off, I quickly grab the skirt and pull it on. Again, it is all made out of soft silk. It has 2 slits, one down each side, allowing my legs to slip out as I move around. Once I have the skirt on, the beast is back in front of me, growling

“Roll up. Your skirt.” I worry my bottom lip with my teeth as I trail my hands down my hips. Finding the base of my pencil skirt mid-though, I slowly start to tug it up, up, up, until it’s right below the apex of my thighs. “Keep going,” Miles says, his eyes on the prize. “Show me those panties I dream about.” At his command, I continue lifting my skirt until finally stopping at my waist. Miles licks his lips. “Gods, you have to let me have this pair.”

She shoved her work laptop into a leather briefcase and reached for the grey jacket she had slung over the back of her chair. Grey jacket, grey calf-length skirt, flat, sensible patent pumps, and, yes, definitely tights. Not stockings. Tights. Possibly of the support variety. Who knew? It was impossible to tell what sort of figure she had under the prim ensemble, but Chase knew; he knew from head to toe. Though after six years, he wondered if something had changed. Not fat, not thin, not tall... The shirt managed to hide everything up top, and the skirt did a similar job with everything down below. And why the hell was he looking anyway?

Putting one knee on the edge of the sunbed, he reached over and flicked the top button of her skirt open and tugged down the zip. A soft moan escaped her as he tugged the denim skirt down over her hips and ankles and tossed it carelessly onto the grass. “Hey, that’s my favourite skirt!” “Pick a number.” She thought for a moment. “One,” she huffed. Natw rolled the dice. “Five.” He rolled again. “Three.” Her heart raced. Nate came over and eyed her singlet. To her shame her nipples tented the thin fabric. “I can’t get it off with the cuffs on,” he said to her. Nate tipped his head consideringly.