With one easy and deliberate grip and cradle of the extremity or pinnacle of his shirt, he hauls and wrests his hands apart so that his shirts buttons...are all displaced and ripped apart, scattering and strewing their way helplessly in the threadlike, dense air. One by one, they tick and clack onto the floor, clanging callously like the tumultuous piece of music, chiming and tolling whats more. With his head straightening and getting high up into the air, Preston tugs and pulls the shirt off. As soon as we entered, Meg started clawing on my shirt like a hungry cat and practically eating my face. I just responded accordingly by cupping both her ass cheeks with my hands and kissing her just as hard as she was. We blindly made our way to the couch, and I fell on it with my back, Megan still glued on my mouth until I hit the couch hard, removing her mouth from mine. She just giggled and resumed her attack on my face and removing my shirt. I noticed a woman who seemed to be peeking on us. More

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