I turn to follow his movement in time to see him stripping off his shirt. The drenched, clingy fabric slowly reveals a broad chest and chiseled back, abs and biceps flexing with every subtle motion. Even though it’s wet, he folds it up neatly before discarding it into a mesh-like hamper. Then his bottoms follow suit.
Silently, I watch him completely bare himself, lost in the sight of his remarkable body. Muscled. Toned. Dense.
I choke on a swallow, in disbelief at the visual evidence of everything mine was just put through.
He walks back toward me, his blatant nudity filling my entire vision. For the very first time, I see him. All of him. And yet, it somehow doesn’t level the playing field. Doesn’t make me feel any less aware of my own nakedness. My eyes latch onto his cock, hanging heavy between his muscled thighs even though it’s supposedly at rest. Before I can avert my gaze and pretend I’m not gawking, he pulls me to my feet.