How could I not look? She was 18, just recently blossomed into a striking young woman, long, lithe legs, proud, perky breasts, full red lips, sparkling eyes, a complexion to rival rose blossoms, an ass that would make a cadaver cum.
She lived directly across the street from me, with her mom. She graduated that June, and that summer she began working somewhere downtown, just a few hours a day, so she'd return after lunch, leaving her home alone in the afternoons. I work at home, have a second story window that overlooks the street and tried like hell not to perv too much on her, though a glimpse of those gracefully curved legs in tight jeans striding down the sidewalk was enough to send me desperately clicking through porn sites searching for "innocent" and "adorable."
Okay, just another older masturbatory male obsessing over inaccessible young blood, what else is new, right? We keep the porn business in business.
Indeed, I spent too many hours stroking my way through countless vids of cute young things pounding their rose petal pussies with fingers, dildos, ohmibods, and whatever else they could slide inside themselves. Internet porn is one of the joys and wonders of modern life. A reason to get up in the mornings, quite literally.
So, when late one morning in early July, I clicked up a vid of a very cute and stunningly built young thing convulsing her way through multiple orgasms stimulated by a deeply embedded ohmibod, I gave my perv self full rein. Oh my word, she was wet. And her breasts were the kind of perfection sculptors dream about, so full and firm and pale they seemed sculpted of alabaster. The vid was a webcam piece that focused on the young lady's gorgeous body showing just a glimpse of her face every once in awhile. But, when her face came into view there was no mistaking it. It was Sophia.
Oh my, oh my, oh my fucking god, recognizing my neighbor on the porn screen sent jolts of electricity through my body, especially to my suddenly stone stiff erection. Sophia. That's what she did in the afternoons! Legs spread lewdly, breasts defying gravity, gaping pussy, wet fingers roaming over her clit while a glass dildo joins the ohmibod inside her gushing cunt and her entire body is wracked by orgasmic tremors. I came so powerfully it felt like I could shoot pure bullets of semen across the street to splat and splash over my young neighbor's sweaty and convulsive flesh.
I pretty much stayed hard that entire week. And oh my goodness, when I caught sight of her leaving the house in the mornings, or returning in the afternoons...it put the world in a brand new, extremely perverted light. The way her breasts sloped away from her shoulders, the rise of her neck to her throat, the curve of her thighs up to her ass, the cleft of her crotch inside those tight jeans.
That Saturday she joined her mother doing yard work, wearing only short shorts and a tank top and I felt like my cock would grow long enough to fuck her from my house.
I searched every fucking porn site I could find for more vids and finally found her at a cam girl site. There were seven vids. Each was so hot, so sexually explicit, so wild, such amazing and unfettered lust on display, that the images therein lodged themselves inside my brain and played all day and through the long, hot nights. I couldn't look at their house without my mouth watering and my balls tingling.
This was bad. If the definition of addiction is that your bad habit interferes with your life, then I was hopelessly lost in my obsession. I couldn't come enough. My dick ruled my life. How would I ever regain any semblance of dignity, of control, of balance in my life? How could I ever be cool again, as hot and bothered as I was all the time?
I had to do something. So I began writing porn stories about a young exhibitionist woman who tortures her older voyeuristic neighbor. Of course, the woman was modeled after Sophia in just about every way I could imagine her to be. In fact, I named her Sophie. I guess I was trying to fuck her in my fantasies, to fuck her out of my system. I wrote a series of stories - how she left her window open at night for me to see into as she fondled herself to multiple orgasms. Or, she lay out in the backyard in topless bikinis. Or wore revealing and skimpy clothes bending over the flower bed, absent mindedly twerking her ass in my direction. How she sat out front mouthing and tonguing a large popsicle which dripped down the front of her shirt, or stopped one day to bend over and smell the flowers, or how she wiggled her cunt up against her bike seat. Of course, in the stories, it all leads to wild uninhibited sex. Yer basic porn story, right? The internet is littered with'em.
The third week of August, a Wednesday, as hot as it's been all summer, I passed by my upstairs window and I noticed Sophia sitting in a chair in her garage. She was just sitting there in the back, reading from her iPad. Lose gym shorts and a tank top, dark glasses and red, red lipstick with a large sunhat one, she had her legs spread wide open. I'm staring, trying not to be completely lame, trying not to pull my dick out, trying to maintain some focus on work. But then she does something that takes my breath away. Sophia goes over to the garage fridge, takes out a large, dildo shaped popsicle and begins mouthing it. She's not just eating it. She's giving it fellatio, rocking her head back and forth on it. Then, oh my god, she starts rubbing the tip of it on her cleavage.
It was at that moment that I realize with a heart stopping start that where she is sitting in her garage? Can only be seen from my window.
Is it possible? Am I completely lost in my obsession? Am I imagining this? But when Sophia opens her legs and places the length of the popsicle against her shorts crotch then closes her legs around it and sort of shudders, my heart drops down into my cock. She splays her legs open again and I can see the wet stain on her shorts. Pulling the elastic of her waistband out, she seems to be looking down inside. Then, oh my sweetness, she puts the popsicle inside her shorts and sort of rubs it up and down.
