The scene unfolds with a tender intimacy, as her fingers find the edges of the lace, slowly easing the fabric down her smooth, glistening thighs. Her gaze never wavers from mine, her tongue tracing the curve of her lips in a way that makes the air between us thick with anticipation.

In that moment, a stray thought crosses my mind—why is it that we refer to a single pair of panties in the plural? It’s a ridiculous thing to think about now, of all times, when she’s finally ready to share this closeness with me.

She steps out of the delicate garment, her toe playfully flicking it toward me. Then, with a fluid motion, she reaches behind to unhook her bra, sliding it off her arms before casually tossing it aside.

Her bare chest is now fully revealed, the sight of it drawing my focus. And as I marvel at the beauty before me, I can't help but think how these things, meant to be plural, are now so wonderfully present, close enough to touch.