Taking what’s left of the nightgown off is really just letting it slip off my body, and pulling the shorts up seems to go smoothly.

“S-Shame,” I mumble, “A-Almost like I’m wrapping Christmas presents back up.”

But the tank-top isn’t so straightforward. Sliding the opening past my long curls is hard enough, but the feeling of my now liberated tits swaying back and forth is another level of distraction.

One shimmy dance later and the entire top eventually slides over my chest until the nipples are snug and imprinted against the fabric. Seemingly pleased with our arrangement, the pair responding with a pleasant buzz.

“D-Don’t you two start with that again,” I hiss, settling on a softer tone, “But later though, I promise.”