It started with a packet of mints, as all good stories do. They weren’t my mints, they were his. So I popped them on my chest, boobies out took a selfie and sent it to him to let him know he had forgotten his mints. While I promised to look after them until he next visited, I also issued a warning that if he left anything as exciting as clothing at my house, the same thing would happen.
Unfortunately for me, he’s pretty good at rounding up his things before he leaves. So my opportunities for stolen clothes selfies are rare. Today though, I am in luck. As I’m going about my business, having a little tidy up, I stumble upon a t-shirt that is not mine. Oh, the excitement and joy I feel. Semi-nude t-shirt clad selfies were immediately planned.
I think this is the jackpot of mislaid clothes. The tie was fun in fairness, the jeans were too big to make the most of, but the t-shirt is yummy. As I pull it over my head, his scent fills my nostrils, and it makes me giddy with the thoughts of him it brings to mind. The pangs of missing him intensify immediately, I still can’t help but smile though as I breathe him in and remember.
I fully intend to take the t-shirt off once I’ve taken the relevant pictures to tease him with, but I find myself reluctant to do so once it is on. I like the feel of it against my skin, I like that only hours ago it was also against his skin, as were my hands, and my lips, and it all rushes back to me in an instant and I decide the t-shirt will stay on for now.
I know he will want it back, part of me wonders if I can hide it indefinitely, but I know once it smells of my soap and my perfume it won’t be quite the same. Then I conclude that if he wants it back he might just have to remove it from my body himself, and I’m suddenly lost in thoughts of his hands sliding under his own t-shirt, his fingers against my flesh and I can’t help but ache for him and I’m glad I never took the t-shirt off, because right now in the absence of his arms it makes me feel cosy and relaxed and seeing as it’s bedtime that’s exactly how I should be feeling. So maybe I’ll just snuggle under the duvet, and take the t-shirt off tomorrow.
You can find more pictures of me, not necessarily in Bakji’s T-shirt though in my Sinful Sunday Archives.