My fat cat always gets caught up

You catch yourself staring at those YogaPants, stretched tight across full, generous curves that demand your complete attention.

You feel the pull of something primal — the way soft flesh presses against thin fabric, leaving absolutely nothing to your imagination. You want to reach out and feel the warmth radiating through that thin layer between your hands and bare skin.

You know this body was made to be touched, held, gripped. You trace every outline with your eyes before your fingers even get the chance. You aren't ready to look away, and you don't plan to.