The tall man jumps up, and takes her foot in his hands. Smiling up at her, his nimble fingers undoing the lacings. Smiling at him, she leans back onto...her hands, breathing deep. The short man looks shocked before scrambling up to grab her right foot and removing her shoe. Their fingers hook into her socks and slide them down. Hands sliding up inside her pants, hot hands against hot legs. She parts her them slightly, before reaching for the button on her pants. Stopping in the middle of pulling. “Why don’t you just take it off?” She said. I wasn’t wearing a t-shirt, but I really didn’t want to get paint on my gray velour sweat shirt. So I doffed it. I stretched to reach up the wall to start rolling when she poked me in the navel and said, “You can take your pants off too. We wouldn’t want to get paint on those either.”“That’d hardly be fair,” I said, “you’d have more cloths on than me.” “Easily fixed.” She said, as she pulled down on her jeans and they slipped off around her knees. She. More

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