Imaginethat being in a very sensitive state. Now, imagine someone very slowlydrawing a gentle cloth across it. That's how the nipples on my chest felt...and naturally, they drew my vision down. What I saw threw me for a loop. I saw two mounds growing, pushing thefabric of my shirt out. They continued to grow, until they strainedsomewhat against the buttons. (This was, after all, a man's shirt, notbuilt to house a bust.) I unbuttoned a few before the shirt popped open.Then, thinking twice, I. I felt the first stirrings in my pants. I snapped out of my reverie and signed for my key, picked up my overnight bag and made my way to the lift. I had to wait for what seemed like an hour but was only a minute or so before the doors slid open and I stepped in. My room was on the third floor and the lift was empty. There were more mirrors, I thought the designer of the hotel must’ve liked mirrors and maybe liked looking at his or herself a lot, maybe a little narcissistic. The lift stopped. More

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