I’m absolutely drenched, and my clothes are clinging to every single curve in a way that’s driving me fucking wild. My white tank top is completely see-through, plastered to my tits, and my khaki shorts are a wet, heavy mess hugging my hips. But you know what’s even hotter than being soaking wet? The feeling of tearing it all to fucking shreds. I start with my top, grabbing the soaked fabric and pulling with all my strength. The sound of the wet cotton ripping apart sends a shiver straight down my spine and right to my aching pussy. I’m moaning like a desperate whore with every tear, loving the way the destroyed fabric feels as I peel it away from my hard nipples. I don’t just take it off; I obliterate it, turning it into a pile of useless rags while my bare, wet skin finally. It’s a full-body sensory overload, and I’m addicted to the destruction. Beneath these shorts, my panties are already a soaked. The evidence of my arousal is undeniable, a creamy, wet stain that’s been building up
