Summertime Shorts Novels & Stories

Summer stood up. She was dressed in a short T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

Adriana finished her shower and picked up her clothes, only to finally notice a small-sized women’s sweatshirt set on the shelf. The silky material, with short sleeves on top and shorts underneath, had a conservative design—but there was something… a little strange about it. Her athletic underwear was soaked with sweat and couldn’t be worn again. There was no other option. She had to come out with her chest tightly tucked in.

"This is the 19th time, Summer. There's no way you didn't do it on purpose." Summer giggled again. "That's because I like doing this, Mama. I'm like a bird with wings." While Emily laughed heartily, the door behind her opened. Seeing who came, Summer squealed happily, "Uncle Cayden! Look what I'm wearing! Isn't this shirt really cool?" Summer stood on a chair and spread her arms. Now she looked like a scarecrow. Cayden chuckled at that. "Wow, you're really cool. Wait a minute. Isn't it the shirt Louis and I advertised?"

but my front didn't change. Groaning I ran a hand through my hair, it was getting hot in the small cubicle. I looked back at the pair of black shorts I tried, I had never really worn shorts before, unless it was school uniform and went to my knees, but these short ones stopped mid thigh and looked great. Yet I couldn't find a decent top, because full sleeves made it look weird and any other type made me look fat at the shoulders and hands. I really thought I lost weight I pulled the dress off angrily and threw on my clothes again.

It’s too cold to wear shorts. He stands in front of his side of their large closet, just his shirt and underwear on, and jumps slightly in surprise when Dallas comes up behind him to grab his waist. “Can’t decide?” Dallas asks. Clearly he knows Ford too well. He slips his hands under Ford’s shirt to check which underwear he’s got on. They’re nothing exciting, really. Just his black boy-short panties. When he’d bought them, they’d both had a good laugh at the name—somehow the style of underwear made popular for women based on the design of men’s brief shorts had made a full circle, turning into a more feminine-style adjusted back to accommodate the male body.

The summer heat in the suburban house was stifling, even with the AC humming at full blast. Emma sprawled on the living-room couch in her panty shorts—tiny black cotton that hugged her ass like a second skin—and a matching bikini bra that barely contained her full breasts. The fabric was thin, damp with sweat, her nipples faintly visible through the material as she fanned herself with a magazine. Sarah, her roommate, lounged beside her in similar attire, scrolling through N*****x on the big screen. “Horror?” Sarah suggested with a grin. “It’s too hot for anything else need something to give me chills.”

Her eyes were sparkling as she said, "This must be cooling." Keegan was taken aback. 'This is the kind of shirt that male strippers wear when they dance, isn't it?' "And these shorts." Stella held the shorts up with her hands. Keegan was silent when he looked at it. The shorts and the fishnet t-shirt were a set. They were tight grid boxers. And what was more demoralizing was that they were freaking crotchless pants! Stella only noticed that when she held them up. 'I was wondering why this shirt was so revealing.

He moves closer, fixing the bun once more to his liking. Oh, I love this! I'm sure I look like Minnie mouse but I don't care, if it means seeing Mr. Intense happy and content as he is right now. We continue walking. Liam is a little farther, avoiding the ocean, a smile on his face. He's holding my sandals, watching my childish acts as I get my feet inside the water. The feel is celestial when small waves crush against my legs. I'm dying to pull him here, but I wonder what strategy to employ. He's wearing a white T-shirt, denim shorts and Reebok's waterproof slippers, which suggests that I can do as I please . . . right?

she mutters as I stride out to the gym, where half the guys are already dressed and shooting hoops off in the corner. "Mrs Price," I sigh. "I forgot my shorts." She frowns at me. "You're still participating." "I know. I didn't do this on purpose," I huff, trying not to show how frustrated and grumpy I am. "I've given out most of the spare shorts already," she tells me as she sorts through what is left. "Will these fit?" I take the shorts and scowl as it says extra small. "Going to be a tight fit."

"I ain't hiding shit," Abbie protested hotly. "Problem is my track shorts... well... Here. I'll just show you." A moment later, her sweatpants followed her tank top. To my surprise, beneath the pants she was wearing a pair of fairly typical track shorts, bright orange with yellow trim. They were the sort of breezy, comfy looking things I would have worn if I'd been going to run. Then she turned around.