I hung back from the scale but not when she’s about to get naked?
I’m an idiot.
But I’m also a perv.
Because there’s a mirror in front of me, and I should close my eyes or avert my gaze.
Instead, I’m fixated on the small square of reflective material…and what it’s showing me.
Harper quickly pulling her shirt up and over her head, revealing smooth skin and soft curves and a pale pink lacy bra.
My dick twitches.
See? Perv.
And even more so when she reaches for the buttons on her jeans, undoes it and tugs down the zipper. She pushes the material past her hips, doing a little shimmy that makes her tits jiggle and my dick isn’t just twitching.
It’s hard.
I shift slightly, trying to undo the pressure, even as my gaze is glued to the mirror.
Because she’s standing there like a goddess in a pair of floral panties and that lacy pink bra, folding her jeans.
Fucking beautiful.
She darts a look in my direction and I hold my breath, waiting for her to realize how much of a creep I am.
Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to see the mirror.
Or me staring at it like it’s going to tell me all the secrets of the universe.
And maybe it is.
Because Harper is there, quickly undoing her bra and, fuck, but her breasts are perfect. So perfect I almost miss her stepping out of her underwear, giving me a glimpse of that lush ass, the blond curls, the pussy I’d buried my mouth in, unable to stop licking and sucking at because it was ambrosia to my fucking soul.
Then she’s grabbing the paper thing, climbing up onto the bed and draping it over her lap.
She smooths it down, tucks her hair behind her ear, and exhales. “Okay.”
I rotate to face her. “Okay if I sit?”
She nods, and I shift her clothes to the side so I can sit down. “So that’s really a thing, huh?”
“What’s a thing?”
“Girls hiding their underwear from doctors.” I look at her. “I saw a TikTok about it once—about women folding their clothes around their bra and panties.” I poke at the pile. “You did the same.”
She studies me closely for a long moment.
Then shrugs. “It’s just habit I guess.”
“Right,” I murmur.
“What?” she asks. “You just leave your underwear out, all free and loose, when you get your balls checked?”
I pause. Then shrug. “I guess I do.”
She snorts. “Heathen.”
