Let her do the work...

You lean against the wall as Jess begins her work. A few drops appear on the shirt immediately, and the gentle tan tone of her skin magically appears beneath them. She washes carefully, avoiding getting wet at all costs, but eventually, she can't stop the water from soaking through the shirt. In just a few minutes, you are enjoying the look of white cotton clinging to your girlfriend, transparent as glass. At one point, when she leans down, you swear you can make out her nipple from her areola. Your cock hardens immediately.

You're not the only one enjoying the show. Every time that she leans over the hood of your brown car, neighbors that have gathered across the street whistle and shout their encouragement. The first time it happened, you know that Jess flushed from embarrassment. After a while, she began shooting unreadable looks at you. You assume that she's angry.

She dries off the car next, her t-shirt still clinging to her tight body. It's gotten a bit hot out, and it's usually humid, so you don't have to worry about her shirt drying any time soon. Jess leans over to dump the water out, and you admire her long legs and tight ass as she does so. It takes a good deal of willpower to avoid grabbing it.

When she turns to you, your eyes are immediately drawn to her tits, firm and supple beneath the t-shirt. You stare blatantly, and Jess throws her hair back over her shoulder.

"How does the car look?" she asks. You don't look away from her breasts, but nod. "Great," you reply.

"Not my tits, genius. How does your car look?" You shake yourself from the reverie and turn to look at your piece of shit car. It's nice and shiny, without a streak on it. You're actually quite impressed.

"Looks good," you tell her, looking back down at her tits again, making little effort to hide the fact. Jess shifts a bit under your gaze.

"Can we go inside?" she asks softly.