I know nothing about you. I don’t know your name, where you live, what you do. But I see you naked every morning. I see your cock, your balls, your ass, everything. I know how you brush your teeth, I know how your shoulder blades flex in and out when you shave, I know that you’ll take a quick shower after shaving and that your skin glows when you come out, know exactly how you’ll wrap a towel around your waist, and, for that short moment that I crave every morning in the tennis house, how you’ll drop your towel on the bench and stand naked after drying yourself. Even when I’m not looking, I
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