I’m laying on the couch, forcing my way through another dense academic article, doing my best to understand why my thesis advisor thought this would help me, when Theresa says, “What do you think of these pants?”
Vaguely, in the part of my mind that filters out distractions, I’d been aware that Theresa’s door had opened and she’d strutted out. I blink as the information percolates into my awareness, and I see that she’s stopped in front of me, her butt in my face, her shoulders and head twisted around to look down at it. “How does my ass look in them?”
Theresa’s ass, I am seeing, is perfect. Round yet firm, plump yet toned, it curves out majestically from her tight little waist, down to her longer, slender legs. Wrapped in these new workout pants that cling to her skin and show off every contour, I am suddenly reminded that it has been far too long since I’ve gotten laid. “Uhh…” I mumble, searching for words.
She adds, “They’re not too tight, are they?”