rumplethump1976

other eyes taking in your appearance. The manager? A maid? a customer, gazing down from the 4th floor? you don't know, of course, but your face still flushes crimson as you feel the uncontrollable wetness well forth again. As you walk through the automatic door, a gust of chilled lobby air flirts with your bare legs, and you gasp softly as you feel the delicate coolness on your wet pussy. The desk clerk is watching you approach; a beaming smile lighting up his face. You realize that you're perfectly silhouetted in the entryway by the afternoon sun. He may not see every part of you clearly, but there's no doubt in his mind about what you have on under the dress. Or more accurately ...what you don't have on. After you finish checking in and turn away