🏠 It started with a window… and ended with a secret we still keep. I had just moved into our quiet neighborhood in Ohio, USA — where people mow their lawns on Sundays and smile at each other from across the street. Everything looked “perfect”… until one night I caught my husband staring through our bedroom window, fixated. “What are you watching?” I whispered. He jumped. “Nothing… just checking the blinds.” But curiosity killed me faster than guilt. I pulled the curtain slightly… and there she was — our new neighbor, in her early 30s, brown curls, gym shorts… and no bra. I should’ve been angry. But instead, something inside me switched on. That night, instead of fighting… we ended up in bed, hotter than we’d been in months. My mind kept going back to her. And the next day? I saw her smiling at me from across the lawn — like she knew. ⸻ 💋 The Night That Changed Everything Two weeks later, she knocked. “Your husband left his package in front of our door,” she smirked. “But I ...
🛏️ It Was Supposed to Be a Quiet Night…
Summer break.
Dad was gone for a business trip to New York. I had the house to myself — cold beer in hand, AC running, and a dirty story open on my phone. Just as I was about to “handle business”… I heard the garage door.
Shit.
She wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow.
Tara. My stepmom.
42, yoga-toned, legs for days, and those perfect tits that never needed a bra. She walked in, heels clicking against the tiles, wearing a tank top that barely held her in and those black silk shorts I knew she didn’t wear to sleep.
“Didn’t expect you home,” she smiled, eyes trailing down my bare chest. “Miss me?”
🔥 No Words. Just Heat.
I stammered. She didn’t wait.
Walked up, grabbed my beer, took a sip — lips wrapping around the bottle like a slow tease — and handed it back.
Then she looked me dead in the eyes and said:
“You were about to jerk off, weren’t you?”
“Need help with that… baby boy?”
My heart stopped. My d**k didn’t.
She didn’t wait for permission. Fingers curled under the waistband of my shorts and pulled. My cock sprang out, hard, twitching. She bit her lip.
“Bigger than your dad ever was.”
She knelt.
And f**king owned me.
🛏️ On the Couch. Then the Kitchen. Then My Bed.
She took me in deep — slow, sloppy, moaning while she sucked. She didn’t just give head. She made it art.
Then she stood, stripped her tank off, and those heavy, perfect tits bounced free.
“Take me to your room,” she growled.
We didn’t make it. She bent over the couch, pulled her shorts down, and guided me in. No condom. No questions.
She was wet. Hot. Tight.
“Harder,” she whispered. “You’re not a kid anymore. F**k me like a man.”
And I did.
The couch creaked. Her moans echoed. Her nails dug into the cushions. Her legs trembled. And when she came, she screamed my name.
🌅 The Morning After…
She was in my bed, nude, sipping coffee, phone in hand like nothing happened.
“Your dad’s flight is delayed,” she said, stretching like a porn star. “Looks like we’ve got one more night… and one more round.”
I was already hard again.
And she noticed.
Discreet Pleasure? Delivered.
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