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When Beth came back, I was blown away. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, exactly, but I wasn’t expecting what I got.

I had instructed her, after our poolside fun, to get dressed in a tank top and thong. I suppose I thought an eighteen-year-old would have at least one thong, but I figured it would be more of a simple, cotton, no panty-lines, variety that wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows in the locker room or in the laundry pile at home.

This wasn’t that. The tank top, sure enough, was a pretty normal tank top. A simple, thin, cotton tank top that was tight against her body. Thin enough, especially in the heat, that it revealed every curve, and if possible made her breasts even more noticeable than her bikini had. Her nipples were hard from the air conditioning she had just come out from, and very visible through the thin fabric. Certainly not something she could wear in public without more covering. And just about exactly what I had hoped for and imagined when I told her what to change into.

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