how’s my back view?

You catch yourself staring at those YogaPants pulled tight across every curve, fabric doing almost nothing to hide what's underneath.

You notice the way the material traces the small of the back, dipping and clinging where it matters most, drawing your eye downward without apology.

You feel the pull of it — something almost unfair about a view this deliberate, this confident, offered to you like a question you already know the answer to.