I press my face against the glass, trying to see more clearly.
If someone could press his face against the glass, he would be able to see into the apartment.
She steps up to the window, hands against the glass and looks through.
He managed only a few feet and came up against glass again.
I could feel the wind by putting my hand against the glass.
He walked to the window, spread one hand against the glass, and looked out over the city.
He all but ran to the window, holding the paper up against the glass to make the best of what little light there was.
He pressed my face against the glass, and I let him.
She turned to the window leaned her head against the cold glass.
She was standing with her face pressed against the glass of the door.
