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02 min 28 seg

4,684

In my liquor-induced clumsiness, I had accidentally leaned too far into the wall, my forearm slipping and pushing through the door of the last bedroom down the hall. Unable to brace myself through the swinging door, I hit the hardwood floor with both my hands and knees in one large thud. The sudden illumination from the room's lighting and the shear racket I was making as I barged in had me alarmed as I stumbled halfway into the doorway of the bedroom. My eyes frantically jetted through the slightly opened door, hoping that it was unoccupied. Looking across the room at the large floor-to-ceiling mirrors that covered the closet doors, I saw a reflection of Mrs. Clark lying on her bed. Despite both of her bedside lamps still being on, she fortunately remained asléep on her bed. I tried to quietly compose myself once again by crawling backwards on all fours from the room only to look up at the mirror's reflection with a startling fixation.

Missionário

Hetero

Amador

2016-05-16

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