Kavinsky swore under his breath. He tipped his head back and breathed out slowly. And, just as slowly, he reached down until his fingers found the hem of the dress. Now his body felt warm with both the flesh and the generalized arousal, and he could feel, distantly, the slow blossom of physical arousal. He could feel the slow strain against the cotton.

By the time he'd lifted the skirt up to reveal the modest cotton panties, his cock had filled a bit, so they were strained at the front even more than they were when he'd been soft.