"Yes," I answered starting to pull the t-shirt over my head as I stared out the window.
"Don't take it off," he said quickly. "Bring it back like that."
"You are watching." I said, letting the t-shirt drop back into place.
"Oh, yes," he breathed into the phone.
"You were watching me earlier, in the pool." It was a statement rather than a question.
"I like your breast stroke," he said quietly.
"I was floating on my back," I corrected him.
"Exactly," he said so coolly that I felt my n*****s tauten.
"What do you do when you watch me?" I asked.
"What do you think I do?" he answered offhandedly, filling my brain with visions of him stroking his large bulge. I took a deep breath and changed the subject.
"What would I wear home if I bring it to you like this?" I asked teasingly.
"Don't
