I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about what Billie looked like under her clothes. I’d glimpsed her in the dark, shapeless, but never directly in the sunlight. Under the golden morning glow, we stood in the yard of the pack house, and I undressed before Billie. Sunshine washed over my tight muscles and warmed my blood. I was fine—I wasn’t shy at all—until Billie started extracting her clothes and I throbbed with desire for her. Billie’s body was thin and soft with little ...