green dress shirt

Okay Kaiba, if you’re such an expert on fashion, let’s break down some of your outfits.

Outfit #1

A purple trench coat over a green dress shirt and green pants. Stylin color combination.

Outfit #2

A sleeveless white trench coat (is that even a thing? do they make sleeveless trench coats?) with red lining, a high collar, studs, and pointy shoulder pads. Worn over a black shirt, black pants made of what looks like–what, leather, rubber?

–with a pair of belts tied around each leg, matching belts around each arm, some kind of funky metal bracelets…

…and heels. Guess that explains why his height varies wildly from shot to shot.

Outfit #3

The Best-of-Both-Worlds Trench Coat: even purpler than Trench Coat 1, and with even pointier shoulder pads than Trench Coat 2. Worn over a black turtleneck, with the same bracelet/arm cuff/whatever thingies from outfit #2. 

This ensemble shows up a lot in scenes where he’s in his office doing day-to-day Kaiba Corp business.

Maybe he thinks the loafers make it business casual.

In conclusion: nice outifts, dork.

A Quick Reminder (M)

BTS | J-Hope | 2nd Person | 3,147 | fluff, smut |  

▷ “Show me how much.”

Are you still at the studio?

[1:15 AM]

You sat the phone down next to you on the desk after sending the message. There was a pile of books beside you and a notebook with your study material open in front of you. Three hours have passed since you started studying and it didn’t feel like you were absorbing much. You would much rather be spending time with Hoseok, but he was busy with his own work. He was working much harder than you were at the moment, you were sure of that.

Turning the page after only scanning the graph for a few seconds, your phone buzzes.

Yeah. Still working.

[1:19 AM]

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

5th year Tom being obsessive over upperclassman Harry

 It took everything in Tom’s body to not lurch forward and wrap his hands around that filthy Weasley girls neck. 

Why couldn’t anyone understand? The frustratingly perfect, reckless, 6th year Gryffindor was Tom’s?  Harry Potter was everything Tom ever wanted. His tan hands made for Tom’s, lips made to fit perfectly with his, everything. 

Plus, Tom knew everything about Harry. He knew his favorite treat was treacle tart, he hated bitter-sweet candy and that he had a birth mark shaped as a crown on his left shoulder blade. Harry’s lucky socks he wore to Quidditch matches were red with a fox cartoon on the bottom, and that Harry only used cinnamon scented shampoo because it was the only thing that he remembered from his parents, it even said so in his journal that he keeps under the far right corner of his mattress. Tom also knew that Harry owned this magnificent deep green, silk dress shirt that would bring out his eyes.

Nobody knew Harry like Tom does, and nobody love’s Harry like he does. Tom always made sure to watch Harry every time he got the chance, like at dinner, breakfast and lunch, to make sure he was eating. Tom knew how forgetful his Harry could be at times. He also made sure to watch Harry to make sure no one was hurting him, or posed even the slightest threat, because Merlin be dammed if anyone hurt a single hair on his precious Harry’s head.

Tom’s favorite days were when Harry would look at him sometimes in the halls and give him a smile that could surly end the world. Or when Harry would say a short ‘Hello!’ to Tom on his way to class. Tom truly lived for those moments. 

Tom often dream’t that Harry and himself would be in an empty classroom together, all the desks conveniently placed, for when it got to the point in his dreams where he would pin Harry down to a desk and make him tremble and beg beg beg, for Tom to fuck him, to make him scream Tom’s name like the most beautiful prayer. 

The thought of having his most beautiful Harry laying beneath him, his back arching off the desk and the most beautiful sounds coming from his sinful mouth. Tom was excited for the day that it would become reality, although, one night in his dreams the rolls were switched. It was Tom who was withering and begging for Harry to just take him already, it was Tom screaming his name with Harry’s green eyes looking down on him lovingly. 

In all honesty, Tom would bend over for Harry anytime without any hesitation. The thought, that someone else may be laying beneath his Harry made Tom angry. It made him want to kill kill kill , it made him want to put the fear of God into people’s hearts. 

Tom continued to watch the bitch shamelessly flirt with Harry. Twirling her dull hair around her sausage fingers, and displaying her crooked, yellow teeth with a god awful smile. To Tom’s amusement, Harry seemed to be as grossed out as Tom is, making a little spark of victory go warm Tom’s chest, because he knew Harry never looked at him like that when he smiled. Tom knew he was handsome, above average and was perfect for Harry. Harry only deserved the best, and Tom was just that. He was tall, handsome, intelligent and powerful. Nobody could protect Harry like Tom could. Despite all this, the ugly feeling of jealously still boiled furiously in Tom’s gut, because even though Harry wasn’t impressed, he wasn’t making her leave either. 

Thoughts of ways Tom could get rid of the girl swirled through his head, until his train of thought was broken by the abrupt departure of Harry leaving the Great Hall in a hurry. When Tom saw that nobody made a move to follow him, he saw this as a chance to get Harry alone and make his move. Tom stood up gracefully and announced to his… friends, that he would be retiring to the dormitory early, bid them goodnight and told them not to follow. 

Tonight, Harry Potter, you will finally be mine. Tom hissed to himself with a predatory smirk on his face as he caught sight of the lovely Harry Potter sitting on his own in the dark corridor. 

“Hello, Tom.” Harry said softly, though, much to Tom’s dismay, not looking in his direction. 

Tom smirked anyway, “Hello, Harry.”

Cheesecake Shirt

The last time Niall dated was back in high school but that was years ago when everything was simpler.Now he’s dating again and it feels like a brand new experience because all the things he knew about dating felt obsolete.

Niall remembers his date from hell with a girl Louis set him up with a few weeks ago.The girl,Megara, waltzed in the restaurant,to the back of the room for privacy reasosn, a few minutes late in a blue velvet dress that was clinging to her body and a pair a undeniably painful transparent heels.

The conversation was flowing fairly well throughout the wining and dining and Niall was having a good time until the waiter brought out the desert and Megara asked ,in her thick New Jersey accent, am I your bae or nah?The waiter was still setting the plates in front of them and Niall briefly caught the jump of his eyebrows the smallest trace of a shock on the young man’s face.Megara was straight backed in her chair,one hand holding the stem of her wine goblet.Her voice seemed so casual like the question was just off the top of her head but her eyebrow was was rapidly rising to touch her hairline said something differently.

Now,Liam educated Niall well enough for him to know that bae means shit so obviously Niall said no.Plain and simple then reclined coolly in his chair.The poor girl in front of him stared at him with her mouth wide open and eyes blown wide ,momentarily reminding Niall of a goldfish.Recovering,she smiled darkly,eyes narrowed like a leopard’s when angry.She pressed the bowl of the wine glass to her cheek before laughing lowly.Niall chuckled nervously before starting to ask what was wrong.The following series of events went by in a haze and Niall had no time to dodge the slice of cheesecake that was coming his way.

 Megara burst into a fit of anger before leaving in a huff,heels clacking against the flooring and muttering that Niall was a fuckboy.

Driving home,Niall was confused even more so when Harry came over the next morning to hear about the date.

“She asked you what?”,Harry asked ,his head turning to watch Niall, voice higher at the end and his face scrunched up in confusion.

“She asked if she was my bae,”,Niall said trailing off.

They were out on Niall’s back porch,the sound of the mid morning birds chirping and leaves rustling in the breeze.They were leaning against the railing on the elbows, drinks in hand.Harry head retracted to meet his neck giving him a double chin and his eyes looked bewildered while he mouthed the word bae. “Then when I said no she threw her cheesecake in m'face,”,Niall continued. Harry was serious for a second before giggling.In a moment’s glance he was hunched over the railing laughing his lungs out when he heard Niall got cheesecake in his face.

“Oh ho!You got cheesecake in yo face-”,Harry rushed out,voice coated in giggles but was cut off my his own bout of hyena-like laughter.

Niall rolled his eyes and looked away from his curly haired friend,cheeks and ears burning a scarlet red.Harry laughed and sputtered before coughing and heaving with tears at the corners of his eyes before the laughter picked back up again.When it died down to giggling then he composed himself,clearing his throat and wiping away his tears with his ringed fingers,leaning on the railing.

“Niall,she means before anyone else…you know bae,”Harry said,”It’s a term girls like to hear guys say to them.”

Niall looked dumbfounded,”How tha bleddy hell was I s’ppose t’know that?”

Harry draped a loose arm around Niall’s shoulder,”Niall,calm down mate,I’ll enlighten you..but first hit me with that cheesecake story again…oh-aha hit me!’’

As Harry goes over some phrases and terms Niall thinks of himself as a bit silly for letting himself become so rusty in the dating department but can you blame him?His job keeps his schedule packed and when he wasn’t working,bet your ass he was sleeping or watching a series on Netflix and that regime didn’t allow much free time to brush up on his knowledge of the dating world.

The second date was planned badly because Niall did a half-assed job of absorbing some of Harry’s teaching and the girl was glued to her phone the entire time.Niall stayed 30 minutes,(trying to engage her in conversation but she wasn’t interested in it) before going to a Burger King to get dinner for himself instead.

He and the boys laugh about it over some beers and Niall feels a lot better after he talked to them even though it was embarrasing.They give him some pointers and some terms the “hip youngsters” use and set him up on another date.This time it’s with one of Liam’s friends ,y/n.

When Niall enters the posh restaurant he’s buzzing with energy and confidence because this is the face of a man who knows what he’s doing.Harry leant him a white button up but the light wash jeans and shoes are both Niall’s.

Somewhere between him striding across the hardwood floor to the table his confidence fizzled out and his eloquence was gone with the wind.Maybe it was when he saw you and how beautiful y/n looked under the soft golden lighting,hair down and cascading around her shoulders like waves.You stood and shook his hand,a pleasant smile on your face before smoothing out her mossy green t-shirt dress to sit again.

Louis said to start conversation with a joke but did y/n get the joke?Does she not like llamas?Was that one of Harry’s jokes?Shit please don’t think I’m not funny… or crazy.Niall’s already nervous and now he’s overthinking everything.

y/n asked about sports Niall is interested in and he starts saying things like Neymar’s hairstyles are goals and you know they are but why say ‘goals’ there?

Y/n says she loves Beyonce because Queen Bey encourages positivity in people and he says Beyonce slays.

Y/n’s confused because Liam talked about him in such high esteem,why was he being so shallow?

Niall’s tapping his foot anxiously because he wants nothing more than to crawl into bed and watch Game of Thrones now.He’s already shamed himself enough.This isn’t like Niall it’s like an idiot using all these dumb references.It may have worked for the other guys but not for him.

“Niall,are you ok?’ve been acting off all evening,”,y/n asks eyebrow arched perfectly in question,pink luscious lips slightly pouted.

“Yeah,never been better…am I you’re bae or nah,y/n?”

She looks up at him with a bitch really look on her face because did he really just ask that?

Niall is grateful they haven’t ordered desert yet and there’s nothing to ruin this shirt because it’s Harry’s and he needs to return it clean.

“You do realise bae means crap right?”

Niall is red with embarrassment and wants to shrivel up and cry and hide under the table.

“Be real with me here,why have you been saying all these things?You sound like a teenager.”

Niall tells her everything.Every cringy detail about the past two dates and the boys ‘helping’ him with his dating.You don’t laugh you just smile and sigh.

“Can I tell you a secret?”,you ask.


“If it were up to me,I would have happily eaten a box or two of pizza with you or some jello no bake cheesecake because this joint is far too fancy for my liking,”you say scrunching up your nose at the silky red table cloth,chandelier and the waiters buzzing around.

Niall laughs whole heartedly,smiling a toothy grin.

“If we’re still being real,I’d be wearing sweat pants too because God knows I can’t dress myself,”,you continue.

“But you look so pretty…I don’t get it,”,Niall says shocked because you look stunning even in this simple outfit.

“Oh my friends dressed me and did this make-up,“,she says smiling and waving a dismissive hand,“everytime I try to do that winged eye thingy I poke myself in the eyeball,I don’t know how though,“she laughs at herself and Niall laughs along with her.

“Harry dressed me tonight in one of his shirts.I,personally, would have liked to wear my grey jumper and be all cozy,”

You gasp and nod in quick succession,“Sameee,but my friends told me the restaurant is too fancy for that,”

It’s half past nine when you leave the restaurant with Niall and he waits with you for a taxi.It’s late and you’re wearing heels that are waging war against the soles of your feet so you strip yourself of them and surrender.Niall’s holding your heels now and you’re wiggling your toes happily against the cold concrete.Niall’s just standing there listening to the sound of the car horns while trying not to look like a creep when he’s inhaling your strawberry scented shampoo.Out of the blue you wrap his free arm around your waist and he blushes but you smile contently,feeling little sparks go off where his hand lay and squeezed the skin the softly.

You pass the time playing I spy and talking about football but your cab pulls up and you have to go.You kiss him goodbye and slip him your phone number telling him to call you tonight.Niall nods and you take your shoes from him,clambering into the back of the cab.

Niall sighs happily and when he gets home he calls you making sure you got home safe before he gets into bed,smiling into his pillow before drifting off to sleep.

The thought struck him late that night and wakes him from his slumber.He’s a hopeless romantic but that doesn’t mean he’s useless.In the new fangled days of relationships he may not know everything but he knows he’s a true gentleman…and the owner of a cheesecake stained shirt.

Screw Your Courage to the Sticking Place part 6 (Lin x Reader)

Warnings: a little insecurity and explicit language

A/N: I finally finished planning this out and there’s going to be seven chapters, so this is the second to last one. Also thank you all for the feedback, I love you all so much. 

tags: @21phantasticromances @mukeforpresident

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 

On Tuesday, you head down to the theater to get your final fitting for the light blue dress and dark blue robe that Eliza wears in Best of Wives Best of Women. You walk through the doors at a quarter till two, an extra large caramel latte in your hands.

The fitting actually goes really quick because both the dress and robe still fit perfectly. The dress is soft against your skin, secure around the bottom of your breasts without being too tight. The robe fits equally as well, wrapping around the same spot as the dress. The dress flows loosely to the floor and you can’t help but give a little twirl and admire your reflection in the mirror. 

Keep reading

Lunch Hour

Author: Christopher Trevor

Note from the author: This is one of my “Classic” foot and socks fetish stories. Hope you enjoy…

It was eleven thirty AM; I was famished, so I decided to take an early lunch, figuring I would take the paper work I was working on with me. At that early hour the restaurant would not be all that busy. I would request a table toward the back of the place, away from the lunch time conversations and business deals and quietly get some work done while I ate. I stood up, rolled the sleeves down from my elbows on my white dress shirt, buttoned the cuffs, straightened my B silk green necktie, and shrugged into my blue pinstriped suit jacket. As I walked out of my office with my attaché case in hand I told my secretary that I would be taking an early lunch. She looked up at me, smiled warmly, and told me to have a good lunch. I always got the feeling that Janice wanted more than to just be a secretary for me but I am a junior vice president who does not believe in mixing business with pleasure. Even though she is beautiful, single, and the same age as I, twenty-five. Also, I don’t need any scandals or sexual harassment suits brought against the brokerage firm I work for. They had hired me three years ago right out of college and gave me the chance of a lifetime. I was not about to do anything to fuck that up. My name is Bill Reston; I work for a highly respected brokerage firm on Wall Street in Manhattan. I am as I said, twenty-five years old, one of the youngest junior vice presidents my company has ever taken a chance on. I have short cut dark hair, brown eyes, and no facial hair at all. A clean-shaven guy, that’s me. I am exactly six feet tall and my body is well toned and lean from the daily workouts I put myself through at the gym on a regular basis. So, dressed in a blue pinstriped  suit, a white dress shirt, green silk tie, highly spit polished size eleven black  lace-up wing tips, and knee length black nylon dress socks I headed off for an early lunch. Just for the record it was a Monday morning and would prove to be the most interesting lunch hour of my life.

The restaurant I frequent most often is called “Anne’s Bistro.” It is very near to the office building I work in, the food is great, and the service is fantastic. In the afternoons the restaurant is filled to capacity with the business crowd from around the Wall Street area. At eleven thirty in the morning it is pretty much still empty. When I walked in the headwaiter instantly approached me with a leather-bound menu tucked under his arm.

“Ah, Mr. Reston, and how are you today?” he asked politely. “A little early today Sir?”

“Yes I am Mr. Gordon,” I replied equally as politely. “I’m rather hungry and also need to get some work done. If you could please show me to a table in the back where I could have some privacy I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Right this way Sir,” he said and I followed him through the restaurant toward the back of the restaurant.

The place is extremely elegant all the tables properly set with wineglasses, silverware, and cloth napkins. Each table is covered with linen tablecloths of white and beige that extend all the way down to the floor. And thank God for that, as you will soon understand why I say that. As I followed Mr. Gordon through the restaurant I could feel waitresses and also some of the waiters drinking me in with their eyes. I’m rather modest about it but I suppose it could be said that I’m a pretty good-looking young executive.                                                                                           At the back of the restaurant the headwaiter showed me to a table that overlooked the restaurant but was yet pretty much out of the way. A few feet from the table I saw a muscular young construction worker just finishing a job of applying a coat of plaster to the wall. I looked at the construction worker and then at the headwaiter.

“We had a small mishap during the night and he’s here to just patch it up,” the headwaiter explained to me. “He won’t disturb you at all and he’ll be done in a few moments.”

Wouldn’t disturb me? Nothing was further from the truth, let me tell you.

“No problem,” I said as he placed the menu on the table and pulled my chair out for me.

I sat down, placing my attaché case on the floor next to me.

“Your waiter will be with you in a few moments Mr. Reston,” the headwaiter said to me. “Enjoy your lunch.”

“Thank you Mr. Gordon,” I replied and he walked away.

It always sends me on an ego trip when a headwaiter or store salesperson remembers my name. It makes me feel like the executive I am. Before picking up my menu I glanced over at the construction worker, still a few feet from where I was sitting. He looked to be no more than nineteen or twenty years old. He was dressed in a worn looking pair of blue jeans, a string black tank top, and very scuffed up mustard colored lace-up work boots. I guessed his height to be around five feet nine inches tall. He must have sensed me staring at him because he turned to look at me. He grinned at me from ear to ear and then quickly returned to the job he was just finishing up. He had dark short curly hair, very deep dark eyes, and his body was extremely muscular. Obviously this guy did a little more than just construction work. I guessed that he worked out at the gym on a regular basis as well. His back muscles rippled as he squatted and began piling things into his big toolbox. I turned my attention to the menu and began looking at the lunch choices. I crossed a leg under the table, letting my foot dangle a few inches just above the floor.

“Would you like a drink before you decide on what you would like for lunch Mr. Reston?” I heard a male voice say to me.

I looked up and saw a waiter standing over me, pen poised over his waiter’s pad.

“Uh yes, thank you Mike,” I replied. “A glass of red wine, shiraz please.”

“Very good Mr. Reston,” he said, wrote it down, and walked away from my table.

I turned my attention back to the menu. When I heard the construction worker’s toolbox close I again glanced over at him. This time he was looking at me, still squatting on his knees.

“All done,” he said to me, indicating the wall in front of him.

I pursed my lips and smiled at him. I turned to look at my menu again. I decided on the chicken breast with mixed vegetables and put the menu down on the table. As I reached for my attaché’ case to get some of my paperwork out I felt eyes staring at me, drinking me in. A feeling of utter intensity came over me. I looked over at the construction worker and saw that he was still squatting over his toolbox, looking at me hungrily. I looked back at him questioningly as I took a small stack of papers from my attaché case along with my gold pen. I placed the papers on the table in front of me and quickly looked back over at the construction worker. He was now not just squatting; he seemed to be in a sort of crouch. Like a football player ready to run across the field. A shudder coursed through me as I saw him look around to make sure no one was watching. Then, he ran in a crouch toward my table ending up under it.


“H-holy shit,” I whispered, sitting there shaking now.

I quickly scanned the restaurant but the few patrons of the place and the employees of the restaurant didn’t seem to notice that I now had a construction worker under my table. The main question I asked myself was why was the guy under my table? As I sat there with a look of nervousness and apprehension on my square jawed face my waiter was approaching my table with a glass of Shiraz on a silver tray.

“Here we are Sir,” the waiter said, placing the glass of wine in front of me. “Are you ready to order now?”

“I,uh, I,” I began to say, prepared to report the fact that there was a construction worker crouched under my table, but when I felt a meaty hand close around my dangling socked ankle the words would not come out. “Yes, I will have the breast of chicken with mixed vegetables,” I replied, a look of shock on my face.

“Would you care for rice or pasta with that Mr. Reston?” the waiter asked me.

Before I could reply I felt the construction worker’s big hand moving up my leg, under my pants leg, the tips of his strong fingers squeezing my socked calf.

“R-rice,” I responded.

If the waiter noticed anything awry with the expression on my face he didn’t say a word about it. No doubt he just saw me as another stressed out young executive.

“Very good Sir,” he said, jotted down my order and turned to walk away from my table.

“Uh, Mike,” I said huskily, pointing at the tablecloth covered table.

“Yes Sir?” the waiter asked, quickly turning back to me.

I then felt a pair of lips pressed against my socked calf as the construction worker under my table held my dangling wing tipped foot in his big hand, his other hand slid up under my pants leg.

“Uh, on second thought I changed my mind,” I said, trying to act as natural as possible. “I was going to order an appetizer but decided against it.”

“Very well Sir,” the waiter said and walked away.

My breath caught in my throat when I felt big wet kisses being planted on my black socked calf.

The construction worker held my dangling foot by the heel and I heard sniffing sounds emanating from under the table. The fucking pervert, he was sniffing my damned sock and kissing it. Now, just for the record I am straight as a fucking arrow, but what this guy was doing to me had me in a dizzy spell of sorts. His hands moving over my foot and leg were driving me crazy. I thanked God that the tablecloth covered the entire table, but then again if it didn’t he wouldn’t be under there fondling me the way he was. I reached for my wineglass and took a long very much-needed sip of it. I placed the glass back on the table and looked down at the stack of paperwork in front of me. I was determined to do my best to concentrate on it, even though a pervert was feeling me up under my table. As I began reading over the terms of the contract in front of me I suddenly felt the lace of my dangling shoed foot being undone.


“Oh my God,” I whispered breathlessly. “Just what the hell are you planning to do to me under there?”

My wing tip was slipped from my foot and before I could pull my socked foot away from him he grabbed it in his very strong hand by the ankle and held it fast and tight. I again scanned the restaurant; not wanting anyone to notice the expressions of ecstasy mixed with fear etched on my face. God, I was being felt up by some sort of foot pervert. I heard sniffing sounds again emanating from under the table and somehow I knew that he was sniffing the inside of the shoe he had just taken off my foot. I took another sip of my wine and then looked down at the paperwork in front of me. The words on the paper were just that, words. I could not concentrate on the task at hand. When I felt a tongue moving over the top of my foot I nearly gasped loud enough for everyone in the restaurant to hear me. I quickly squashed the sound before it escaped from my mouth. Looking straight ahead I saw that more patrons were entering the restaurant, men in suits and women in business attire as well. Luckily I saw no one from my office. At that moment I did not want anyone joining me for lunch. Actually, someone had already joined me for lunch. Actually, I was his lunch. A busboy approached my table with a basket of bread, bread-sticks, and butter. As he placed the bread- basket in front of me a look of awe filled my face.

“Are you okay Sir?” he asked me.

“Uh, yes, I was just thinking over something about my work here,” I said, indicating the paperwork in front of me, pointing at the table.

“Okay then,” he said and walked away from my table.

I was about to call him back when I felt lips wrapped around the last three toes of my socked foot. I felt a tongue flicking over the gold material of my gold toe socks. I felt my socked toes being sucked as hands caressed the bottoms and tops of my dangling foot.                                                                                   “Oh lord, this is too much,” I whispered. “Fucking guy is sucking my damned toes. God, but my socks must stink something awful.”

As the construction worker lovingly sucked my toes I felt his hands moving up and under my pants leg again. My breathing was short silent gasps. Sweat broke out on the back of my neck. I leaned forward in my chair, shucked off my suit jacket, and hung it over the back of my chair. When he moved his mouth and lips over the tips of my gold- toed socks and slurped my big toe and the second toe into his mouth I grabbed the knot in my tie. I was sweating big time under the collar now. I gulped hard and reached for a slice of bread. Trying as normally as possible I spread butter over the slice of bread. As I put the slice of buttered bread into my mouth he sucked my two toes deeper into his mouth, so deep, as if he were deep throating my cock. Actually, he would get to that as soon as possible, as I would soon find out. I chewed heartily on the bread, swallowed it, and gulped a big sip of wine. When I reached for the second slice of bread he let my toes slip from his mouth. He caressed my foot bottom and top as I slathered butter on a second slice of bread, my hand trembling like crazy in the process. He stretched my leg out under the table and pressed the tip of his tongue against the bottom of my foot. Then, I felt his nose and mouth against the bottom of my foot and he was sniffing heartily.


“You fucking pervert,” I whispered through clenched teeth. “You’re driving me batty. Who the fuck are you? And why me? My God, why me???”

Slowly, he lowered my socked foot to the floor, placing it next to my other one that was still flat on the floor, but not for long.

“Here we are Mr. Reston,” I heard a voice say and I looked up.

Mike, my waiter was standing over me with my food order on a silver tray.

“Oh, good,” I said and sat back so he could place the food in front of me.

A plate of chicken breast served over rice with mixed vegetables on the side.

“Mmm, smells great,” I said to Mike.

“Enjoy it Sir,” Mike said. “And if there’s anything else I can do for you please don’t hesitate to ask.

Anything else he could do for me??? Yeah, he could do something else for me; that was for sure. He could get this foot pervert out from under my table so I could get my shoe back on my foot and get some work done while I ate my lunch. But it seemed that was not meant to be.

“Say Mike, what happened to that construction worker that was over there earlier?” I asked the waiter. “Seems he left his toolbox behind.”

As Mike and I looked over at the toolbox sitting there unattended I felt a hand grip my calves, almost in anger.

“Yes, it would seem like that,” Mike said, looking back down at me. “I’m sure he’ll realize it and be back for it. Enjoy your lunch Mr. Reston.”

As Mike walked away from my table my feet were lifted a few inches off the floor. The construction worker under there then pulled my feet a few inches apart. I didn’t need three guesses to know what he was about to do to me.


“No, no,” I pleaded in a whispered tone, but, ignoring me he slammed my socked foot and my shoed foot against each other. “Owwwwwww…” I seethed as quietly as possible through clenched teeth.

I heard the words “Start eating your lunch” whispered up at me and then felt my other shoe being unlaced.

“Shit, shit, you bastard,” I whispered and picked up my fork and knife.

I shoved a piece of delicious chicken into my mouth and as I chewed my other shoe was taken off my other foot.

Going for the other one now huh?” I whispered down at him.

The smell of sweat from my feet and socks wafted up to me and mixed with the smells emanating from my lunch. I took another slice of chicken into my mouth and chewed it heartily. Any chance of getting any work done at all I had abandoned at this point. Fuck, whoever this guy was he was making me crazy. I mean, I was literally being held prisoner in full view of everyone else who was at that restaurant. The construction worker under the table lifted my other foot and holding it firmly by the center and the heel he rubbed my socked toes over his nipples, alternating from side to side. From what I was able to gather his nipples were pretty erect and hard. Looked like playing with and licking my feet had him pretty turned on. And there was no denying that I was sporting a pretty big boner in my under shorts as well. Fuck, I had never even entertained a scene like this and now here some pervert playing with my damned, socked feet was turning me on. He continued rubbing my socked toes over his nipples. A few times I scrunched my toes around one of his nipples. He seemed to like that and showed his appreciation by squeezing my foot tight. But then, as I chewed a mouthful of vegetables it was back to slurping and sucking my toes and foot. I felt his tongue moving over the side of my foot as he held it aloft under the table. As he slurped heartily at the sides of my foot his hand was moving up and under my pants leg, really feeling me up like crazy. He squeezed my leg tight and tugged my sock down a little. I nearly gagged on the rice I was swallowing when he gobbled the last three toes of my foot into his mouth. He sucked them like crazy, chewed on them, and slurped the rancid sweat out of my sock. It seemed that the more he serviced my feet the more he wanted of them. I wondered if the fucker had done this sort of thing before. I ate slowly, knowing that he would not let go of me for quite a while yet. He was having too much fun with me. Next, he put my feet down on the floor a few inches apart. He ran his hands over them a few times. Then, he began folding up the bottoms of my pants legs, hiking them up revealing more of my black dress socks. I wiggled my toes in anger under those socks that he seemed to be totally in love with.


“Fucker, what are you up to down there now???” I growled down at him in a soft tone of voice.

When my pants had been hiked up to just over my calves I felt the construction worker’s big hands moving over them, roaming up and down my calves, sending chills through me. Never thought that some guy playing with my socks could drive me so fucking crazy. I took a sip of my wine, which was almost gone at that point. I usually allow myself one glass of wine with lunch every once in a while. On this particular day I thought I deserved a second one. As I forked a piece of chicken into my mouth my feet were lifted together off the floor. He held them closely together and sucked my two big toes into his mouth. I nearly gasped but managed not to. I glanced at my watch, saw that it was now twelve PM. The restaurant was already filling up. No way to get out of this now. If I did get up and move from the table people would see that my shoes were missing. If I caused a scene people would realize that the guy had been under my table for quite a while at that point. Actually he had been under there and at my feet for almost a half-hour at that point. My head spun as I gulped the last of my wine and the bastard sucked and slurped greedily at my socked toes.


“Fuck man, why don’t you leave me alone already?” I whispered down at him.

He of course ignored my plea. My cock raged hard in my briefs. I could feel it oozing pre cum. When I saw Mike taking an order at a table near mine I held up my wineglass to get his attention. When he was done taking the other table’s order he dashed over to me.

“Another glass of wine Mr. Reston?” he asked me.

“Yes please, I think I need it,” I said as he took the empty glass from me. “Could I also have a tall glass of ice water when you have a moment?” I asked him.

“Of course Sir,” Mike said and stepped away from my table.

As I spoke to the waiter the construction worker under the table had gotten himself into a kneeling position with the heel of one of my feet directly over his mouth. Sort of looked like a foot shaped cork in his mouth. He swirled his tongue all over my socked heel, sending chills up my leg and up my spine. I tried again to look over some paperwork but it was totally impossible. The guy had my undivided attention. At the moment my second glass of wine and ice water was placed on the table the guy again lowered my feet to the floor. I felt his hands moving up my legs, getting closer and closer to my family jewels. When he pressed his mouth against my crotch and sniffed at my balls under there I quickly took a gulp of my wine. His fingertips toyed with my socks as his mouth was pressed harder against my crotch. With his fingers he was slowly tugging my socks down. Then, his hands abandoned my socks and I felt them moving over my crotch, his fingers slowly pulled my pants zipper down.

“Oh God no, no, you wouldn’t,” I whispered desperately.

When my zipper was down he reached into the fly opening of my BVDs and brought out my long, thick, sausage sized cock along with my plum sized balls. His fingers squeezing my cock and balls made me breathless. I sat there totally in his power. When he slurped my hard pulsing cock into his mouth I thought I would leap out of my well-licked socks. He held the tip of my cock captive between his lips and poked my slit with the tip of his tongue, torturing me erotically.

Ohhhh God, God,” I whispered and leaned back in my chair, my legs spread wide in front of me, my socked feet resting on their sides on the floor.

Slowly he slid his mouth down further over my pulsing hard erection. He drooled over it but before his saliva could hit the floor he slurped it heartily off my cock. I forked a large piece of chicken into my mouth and chewed like crazy as my executive cock was sucked under the table, unknown to the crowd that was slowly forming in the restaurant. Breathless and feeling helpless at the same time I tugged on my silk tie. It wouldn’t take long for me to shoot my load, not the way this guy was sucking me. His fingers again on my socks, tugging them down as he sucked my cock into his throat, my balls pressed against his chin now.


“Oh my God,” I whispered breathlessly. “You fucking bastard, I-I’m going to cum any second now.”

He moved my cock back into his mouth and then it happened, I shot my load into his greedy mouth. I gripped the sides of the table, hung my head down to make it appear as if I was looking at my paperwork and panted as silently as possible as the greedy pervert sucked me till he got every drop of my sperm. When I couldn’t cum anymore the miserable bastard teased the fuck out of my cock hole with the tip of his tongue. That got me pissing long and hard, right into his mouth. As he gulped down my stream of piss and I sat there sweating I felt my socks leave my feet. He had what he had sidled under my table for. The bastard had intended to steal my damned executive socks, jeez!! He let my cock slip out of his mouth and quickly packed it back into my suit pants, zipping me up.


“You bastard,” I whispered down at him. “You just fucking made me cum…”


“Finish your lunch,” he whispered with an air of authority in his voice.

Not having much of a choice I leaned forward and spooned a mouthful of rice into my mouth. I felt my shoes being slipped onto my bare feet and laced up. Fuck, the bastard was stealing my damned socks. I would have to buy a pair on the way back to my office. When I was done eating Mike cleared my table and handed me my lunch check. I in turn handed him my credit card after adding on the usual hefty tip. He thanked me and walked away to process my order. I packed my papers back into my attaché case and clicked it shut. When I glanced over at where the construction worker’s toolbox was I saw that it was no longer there. I gulped hard and quickly pulled the tablecloth up.  He was gone, as if he had never been there. Looking at my feet under the table minus my socks was the only evidence that he had been there not to mention my hiked up pants and the tingling feeling in my cock.

“Did you lose something Mr. Reston?” Mike asked me, suddenly at my table with my credit receipt for me to sign.

“Uh, no, I thought I dropped my pen,” I said and quickly lowered the tablecloth, lest he see my sock-less feet.

He handed me my receipt on a small silver tray along with a pen, I signed it and handed it to him. He politely thanked me and walked off. I inconspicuously reached under the table to lower my pants legs back down. I stood up, shrugged into my suit jacket, and picked up my attaché case. I walked slowly toward the exit of the restaurant. My sock-less feet felt funny in my wing tips. When I got outside there was not a sign of the perverted sock stealing construction worker anywhere in sight. I walked quickly to men’s clothing store and purchased a pair of knee length, black nylon dress socks. When I got outside a mailman approached me.

“Excuse me Sir,” the mailman said to me, holding out a blank sealed envelope.

“Yes, can I help you?” I asked him.

“A construction worker just gave me this and asked me to give it to you when you came out of that store,” the mailman said to me and handed me the envelope.

“Did you see where he went?” I asked the mailman.

“Got in his mail truck drove off,” the mailman said. “I have to go Sir.”

He walked off, leaving me standing there with the envelope in my hand. I put my attaché case down on the ground, opened the envelope and read the note that was in it. The note read “I will get those socks too you handsome fuck. Let’s do lunch again soon.” I stood there trembling, looking up and down the block for him….

                                                                      /The End/





🌻After several days of international travel and rest, time to finally get pretty again! I’ve worn the cream underdress and rusty red skirt together before, but because it’s quite hot and muggy here I decided to keep the top part of this coord thin and simple. I like the contrast of the sea foam green shirt and dress necklines 😍 Everything is thrifted!

anonymous asked:

can i get a ship sprite of humanstuck meulin and kurloz? kurloz was hispanic with vitiligo and usually wore a purple tank top, black jeans, and purple shoes. I had light brown hair and my favorite outfit was a mint green shirt-dress with a white skull on it, black leggings, and ice-pink heels. I also wore a flowercrown with small purple flowers all the time. sorry if it's too complicated, you don't have to do it!!

-mod mituna