I first noticed you watching me on a quiet Saturday afternoon, the golden light spilling through the blinds of my living room. I had just returned from my morning run, the hot, humid air of the South clinging to my skin. As I peeled off my drenched compression shorts, I heard a soft rustling, the faint sound of blinds shifting. I looked up, catching sight of a shadowy figure behind the half-open blinds of your bedroom window, perfectly positioned to catch a glimpse of me and my now fully exposed body. As you realized I might have seen you, there was a moment of hesitation before you gracefully stepped back, but not before the light caught the subtle contrast of white lace against your sun-kissed skin.

Though I had always known you lived next door, it wasn’t until that moment that I felt something stir within me. You weren’t trying to be noticed, yet your presence was magnetic, effortlessly captivating in its mystery. I decided not to acknowledge it then, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. If you were watching me, I wanted to make sure you had plenty to see.

The days that followed, I found myself making small, deliberate choices, slipping out of my swim shorts by the pool, letting the warmth of the sun kiss my skin before retreating inside. I left the blinds open, just enough to allow you the opportunity to watch, should you choose to. I wanted you to see me at my most exposed, my most vulnerable, without a word passing between us.

I would watch you, too, as you walked to your mailbox in the mornings, your bare feet grazing the cool, soft grass. The hem of your sundress fluttering just enough to tease a glimpse of your body, leaving me with the briefest impressions of your soft curves. At times, I caught glimpses through your window, light dancing across your skin as you moved effortlessly, undistracted, in nothing but your bra and panties. The rhythm of your movements, the carefree elegance with which you danced, left an imprint on my thoughts, haunting me in the most intoxicating way.

The days slipped by, each one a quiet tension building between us. I began to notice more of your habits—the way you would step out onto your porch at dawn, stretching in the cool morning air, your form silhouetted against the soft glow of the rising sun. Sometimes, you would linger, as if waiting for something, waiting for me, perhaps. It became a ritual, both of us existing in the same space but never quite acknowledging the pull we shared.

Then one evening, as the sky turned dark, I was out by the pool, towels draped across the lounge chairs, preparing for another swim. I stepped out of the house when I caught sight of you again. This time, you were on your porch, the soft fabric of your dress swaying as you bent down to water your plants. The gentle arch of your back, the way your hips swayed as you moved, something about it felt like an invitation. Without thinking, I adjusted my position, a subtle shift in my posture that I hoped would draw your eyes to my hard cock. I didn’t need to wait long.

Your gaze lifted, meeting mine across our yards. It was fleeting, only a moment, but it felt like an eternity. A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips before you turned away, but I could see the faint flush that spread across your skin, a warmth that mirrored my own.

The next few days, I caught you watching me again. The morning light, the slant of afternoon, even the quiet of dusk, it was as though our lives were drawing closer. Yet, in those brief exchanges, we both seemed to recognize something deeper, an unspoken invitation that neither of us wanted to refuse.

It wasn’t until the next Saturday that the opportunity presented itself in a way neither of us could ignore. I was out by the pool again, the sun dipping low. I decide that I had enough, so I get out of the pool, remove my swim shorts and gather my towel and dry off my wet naked body. I knew you were watching, even though I couldn’t see you. I walk back through the back door. I had left the door slightly ajar this time, hoping you’d come closer, hoping you’d cross that line I had carefully set. My pulse quickened as I felt the air shift.

I was just about to close the door when I heard the soft sound of footsteps behind me. Turning slowly, I found you there, standing at the edge of the pool, just beyond the gate that separated our properties. Your eyes met mine, dark and intent, your breath shallow as you studied me, as if weighing the space between us.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” you said, your voice smooth and low, almost a whisper carried on the evening breeze.

Realizing that I was standing there, completely naked, my thick, hard, 7.5” uncut cock, staring directly at you, I shuffle to wrap a towel around my waist. I took a step closer, the warm air blowing against the water beads still dripping down my body, the distant hum of the world fading between us. “You didn’t disturb me,” I replied, my voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of something more. “I was hoping you’d come over.”

The words hung between us, simple yet loaded, and for a long moment, we both just stood there, the unspoken invitation hanging thick in the air. Neither of us moved, but it was clear we were no longer hiding from what had been brewing for so long.

With a soft exhale, you took a slow step forward, your gaze never leaving mine. And in that moment, the space between us disappeared.

You stepped closer, the faint scent of jasmine and earth lingering in the air around you, drawing me in. Every inch of space between us seemed charged, as though the weight of our silence spoke louder than anything we could say. Your gaze never wavered, and I felt that pull—subtle, but undeniable. Your eyes were dark, full of something unspoken, something that invited more than just a glance. I knew that this was no longer just about stolen moments through windows, no longer about simple observations. This was real, raw, and far more intimate than either of us had let it become before.

“Do you always let people watch you?” Your voice was low, teasing yet serious. It wasn’t an accusation, more like an invitation to cross that final boundary.

I paused, taking a moment to soak in the sight of you standing before me. The soft glow of the fading sunlight caressed the contours of your face, the way your dress clung to your body just enough to leave much to the imagination. For a moment, I didn’t speak, letting the tension settle between us like a secret we both knew.

“No,” I answered finally, stepping forward just a little. “But for you, I’ve made an exception.”

Our bodies are now inches apart, you stand on your tiptoes, reach down and rub my cock, and brush your lips against my ear and whisper, “Don’t cover up for me now.” as you loosened my towel and let it fall to the floor, exposing my now throbbing cock.

The words seemed to hang in the air between us, heavy with meaning. I could see your chest rise and fall with a shallow breath, and your fingers wrapping around the base of my cock, as if restraining yourself from getting on your knees. You were just as aware of the electricity between us as I was. Slowly, you let your gaze flicker to my cock, lingering there for a fraction longer than necessary, as though you were deciding how far you were going to let this go.

“I’ve been wanting to come over,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, your lips curling into something more playful. “I just didn’t know if… you’d want me to.”

The distance between us felt infinitesimal now, and I took another small step forward, closing the gap just enough for my cock to brush against you. My fingers lingered on your skin, feeling the warmth that radiated from you, as if touching you would ignite something that had been simmering for far too long.

“I’ve been waiting for you to,” I murmured, my breath brushing against your ear. The closeness between us was intoxicating, each word, each touch, deepening the pull between us.

Your breath hitched slightly, and I could see the way your body responded to my words—how you leaned in just enough, almost as if daring me to remove your dress.

Without a word, I reached for the straps of your dress, pulling them down just enough to reveal the soft curves of your breasts. The movement was slow, deliberate, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. You didn’t look away, and neither did I, as you allowed me to revealed more of yourself. The space between us felt so charged that it was almost unbearable.

“I want you,” you said, and there was no mistaking the sincerity in your voice, the raw need that hung in the air.

And in that moment, all the careful distance, all the hidden glances and quiet moments, seemed to collapse into one breathless instant. You dropped your arms and allowed your dress to slip off your curvy body. My hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, the heat of your body now pressed against mine.

Your lips parted slightly, and without thinking, I leaned in, brushing my mouth softly against yours. The kiss was gentle at first, almost tentative, as if we were both savoring the moment.

“Let’s take this somewhere more comfortable,” you murmured, your voice low and seductive. My lips curved into a smile, and I nodded, letting you guide me by the hand toward the couch.

The soft glow of the evening sky filtered through the blinds, casting the moonlight over the room as I gently pushed you down onto the couch. You leaned back, your hair fanning out around you, your body still covered by your black lacy bra and panties stretched out before me like a feast waiting to be devoured. My eyes roamed over every inch of you—the curve of your hips, the gentle swell of your breasts, the way your skin seemed to shimmer in the light. I couldn’t resist any longer.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, my voice thick with desire. “So fucking beautiful.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you reached for me, your fingers brushing against my chest, tracing the line of my abs down to where my cock stood rigid, aching for attention. “Show me,” you said softly, your eyes locking onto mine. “Show me how much you want me.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I grab the waist of your black, lacy underwear and sliding them off, exposing your freshly trimmed pussy. Kneeling between your legs, I placed my hands on your hips, spreading legs open wider as I leaned forward. My lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and you shivered beneath me, a soft gasp escaping your lips. I kissed my way up slowly, savoring the taste of you, the warmth of your skin, until I reached the apex of your thighs.

Your scent was intoxicating, a sweetness that made my head spin. I pressed my mouth against you, dragging my tongue along your folds, and you moaned, your hands tangling in my hair. The sound sent a jolt of heat straight to my cock, and I groaned against you, my tongue working harder, faster.

“Oh, God,” you breathed, your hips lifting off the couch to meet my mouth. “Don’t stop.”

I had no intention of stopping. My tongue flicked over your clit, circling it slowly at first, then building speed as your moans grew louder. Your fingers tightened in my hair, pulling me closer, and I could feel your body trembling beneath me. I slipped a finger inside you, curling it just right, and you cried out, your back arching off the couch.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you moaned, your voice breaking on the last word. I added another finger, thrusting them in and out of you while my tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit. Your thighs clenched around me, and I knew you were close. I could feel it in the way your muscles tensed, in the way your breathing became erratic, in the way your grip on my hair turned almost painful.

“Come for me,” I growled against you, my voice rough with need.

And you did. With a cry that sounded almost like relief, your body shuddered, your hips bucking against my face as waves of pleasure crashed over you. I drank in every drop of you, my tongue lapping at your sensitive flesh as you rode out your orgasm, your body writhing beneath me.

When your tremors finally subsided, I pulled back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and looked up at you. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your skin flushed, a sheen of sweat glistening on your body. You looked utterly debauched, and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“That was…” you started, but words seemed to fail you. Instead, you reached for me, pulling me up so our bodies were pressed together. Our lips met in a searing kiss, and you could taste yourself on your tongue, a reminder of what I’d just done to you.

“You’re incredible,” I murmured against your lips, my hands roaming over your body, exploring every curve, every dip.

You smiled, your fingers trailing down my chest, over my abs, until they wrapped around my cock. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered.

My breath hitched as your hand began to move, stroking me slowly, teasingly. I wanted nothing more than to bury myself inside you, to feel you tightening around me, to lose myself in the heat of your body. But I also wanted to savor this moment, to make it last as long as possible.

I shifted position, kneeling between your legs once more, and guided myself to your pussy. The tip of my cock brushed against you, and we both let out a groan at the contact. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, I pushed inside you, inch by inch, until I was buried to the hilt.

“Fuck,” I breathed, my head falling forward as I fought to keep control. You felt like heaven, warm and wet and tight, and I knew I wouldn’t last long if I wasn’t careful.

“Move,” you commanded, your voice shaky but firm. “Please.”

I obeyed, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in, setting a slow, steady rhythm. Your nails dug into my back, and I could feel your body responding to mine, your hips meeting each thrust as I drove deeper into you.

“Harder,” you gasped, your legs wrapping around my waist to pull me closer. “I need more.”

I picked up the pace, my thrusts becoming harder, faster, my cock slamming into you with a force that made us both cry out.

“You feel so good,” I groaned, my hands grabbing your breast, still held hostage by your bra.

“Don’t stop,” your voice breaking with each thrust. “Don’t stop,” you begged as you reached behind your back to unclip your bra.

I wasn’t planning on stopping. Not until you came again, not until we were both spent and satisfied. The sight of your tits bouncing as I slid deep inside of you made you wild. I angled my hips slightly, hitting that spot inside you that made you scream, and your body convulsed around me, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. And then, your pussy explodes as you start to squirt all over the both of us.

“Yes, oh God, yes!” you cried, your nails raking down my back as you clenched around me. The sensation was too much, and with a growl, I gave one final thrust, burying myself deep inside you as I came, my release spilling into you in hot, pulsing waves.

For a moment, neither of us moved, our bodies still joined, our breaths coming in heavy pants. Then, slowly, I lowered myself onto the couch beside you, pulling you into my arms. Your head rested on my chest, your fingers tracing lazy circles on my skin.

“That was… amazing,” you said softly, your voice filled with pleasure.

“It was,” I agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But we’re not done yet.”

You looked up at me, your eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh really? What else do you have in mind?”

I grinned, my hand sliding down your body once more. “You’ll see.”