Novel & Cerita Waist Pocketbook

Eliza’s POV After Aria and Quin left the classroom, I waited for few more minutes and and glanced at my bag sitting beside my desk and slowly unzipped it. Tucked beneath my books and notebooks was the smaller pouch, carefully sealed and disguised to look like something innocent—just another cosmetic case, something trivial. But I knew better. My fingers hesitated before curling around it. It fit into my palm perfectly, light and cold, like the guilt I’d carried for far too long.

“Sure! I’ll just fetch my pocket in my room.” He dashed back to his room. I waited on the couch, tapping my feet on the floor. He came back a few seconds and I noticed that there was a bump inside the pockets of his shorts. His purse might have a lot of coins. Jay would have two different money storage methods. A wallet where he puts his cards and bills, and a purse where he puts coins and smaller bills. Since we booked our house with dozens of groceries, he exchanges the coins he got into a bill. It’s a kind of saving up thing for him.

Then she popped out of the haze, with a lucid request, "I want to suck you before I have to go...I want to feel it pulse in my mouth." After that final round, I secretly pulled the jock from her backpack, and printed my measurements on the waistband, in bold numbers...8.4375 x 1.75". Then I autographed the pouch and tucked them back into the backpack. Pleased with my little prank, I knew it would make her smile...and want more. **********************************************

He started grabbing stuff, his hands shaking the tiniest bit. I nodded, headed back down the aisle we'd just come down. A number of bags had been hanging on one of the fake walls in the middle. I found them and started looking through each one. Some looked designed to be hung from both shoulders, some from only one. A couple of them were in bright, girly colors. I chuckled as I imagined Atlas being forced to carry a girl's bag for all his medicines and doctorly stuff. Grabbing a dark gray bag that was designed to hang from both shoulders, I counted no fewer than ten zippers. I had no idea why a person would need that many compartments but figured Atlas would be able to fill them with no issu

Kosta checked the bathroom but again, found nothing. Yuri passed the dresser and he caught sight of his wallet laying on the surface. Frowning, he picked up the handcrafted leather billfold. Opening it, he paused. He dropped his hand to his back pocket where the wallet was usually kept. When he discovered his pocket was empty, Yuri’s frown deepened. He glanced over at Kosta and shook his head. Taking out his handkerchief, he carefully wrapped the wallet inside of it and slipped it into his pocket.

"I fucking did! Pocket!" "What?" I said dumbly as she fought control over her arms again. That wasn't happening any time soon. "Pocket. Now." When that didn't push me into action, she wiggled her hips at me. "The dress has pockets. My ID is in my dress." "And that will help, how…?" "Just do it, handsome!" I reached into her dress and, sure enough, next to a chapstick, keys, and cell phone, was a wafer-thin wallet with her driver's ID and— "Do you see it?"

"Her waist was very thin, too, though I didn't get a chance to touch it." Glancing sideways at the precocious brat, the man picked up the coin purse and examined it. The style was very elegant, different from what was sold on the market. The dark green velvet was worn halfway to old, and the golden tassels had faded somewhat. The lining was embroidered with a tiny rose in the same color silk thread; if one didn't pay attention, it was almost invisible. After examining it for a moment, his gaze shifted. The man took out a folded piece of paper from the bottom of the bag.

They had to be able to survive contact with mud, bark, grass, and whatever she found interesting enough to pick up off the ground on a given day. Most importantly, they had to have pockets. Big ones. And she liked things with animals on them. She especially liked insects. I found a cream long-sleeve with a large illustrated moth on the front, which I threw into the basket. Then, a pair of soft olive cargo trousers with four pockets, two of which were enormous. A purple hoodie with a small embroidered bee on the cuff. A set of dark green dungarees with adjustable straps and a chest pocket. Sneakers with velcro fastenings that would be easy to slip on and off.

On top of every shelve, was clothes folded and arranged in an orderly manner. Even though, you could still notice that most of them were pants. Jeans, shorts, tracksuit, sweatpants, side pocket, Colombo, name them and you will find 1 or 2 in her wardrobe. Even the pants she had now had pockets. Her school uniform had pockets.

Inside was a small leather bag, black, sturdy, and clearly hand-stitched with a silver moon symbol on the flap. I gasped. “Eri…. this is beautiful.” “It has hidden pockets,” she said proudly. “To keep your things safe. You can use it to carry herbs or anything else you might need. It’s also light enough to hide under your uniform jacket and cap.” I hugged it close. “Thank you. I love it.” She smiled, finally happy again. “I wanted to give you something useful, not just pretty.” “This is perfect,” I said honestly. “Everything about it.”