Emily was clueless as to what she was actually going to do, but, deep down in her heart, she knew that she was powerless to stop herself. In the thirty seconds it took for her to slide the couch across the room, she realized that she was acting strictly on impulse, letting her sexual instincts rule her behavior. Her conscious mind was occupied with attempts to analyze her feelings. Meanwhile, her primal, sexual subconscious was guiding her movements and actions.

She sat on the couch, running her fingers through her light brown tresses and sipping her coffee. Absentmindedly, her feet kicked out and dragged the low table closer to the couch. Satisfied with its new position, Emily sighed in anticipation, propping her feet on the table. With the living room curtains open, light spilled in, and she had an excellent view of Vincent’s house and yard. Watching him work was entertaining.

Down on all fours, working in the yard at the precise spot he was eyeing up the previous night, he’d work a little, his muscles rippling from the stress of his toils, then jump up and meander into the garage. As always, his radio was on—a classic rock station—and he’d move to the music, singing along, as he chose his next utensil from his seemingly-endless supply of tools. Then, smiling and singing, he’d return to his yard work. She wondered why he wasn’t dating anyone; he was definitely sexy and such a nice man.

With her feet propped up on the table, her knees flexed and her legs spread, she watched him with a predatory, feline smile and replayed last night’s events in her mind. 

“I’ve never cum that hard, before,” she mused. 

Vincent stood up once, stretching his back. He peeled off the ripped strip of cloth he used to hold his mane of hair back and shook the sweat off his head. Although almost twice her age, Vince made her pussy hungry.

The thought that maybe that was his allure struck Emily as she watched. In her latter years of high school, after her parents divorced, she lived with her father. While she used the fact that she wanted to finish high school right where she was, rather than move across the state, the real reason was that she preferred her father over her mother. After their mildly-messy separation, her dad’s friends began coming over, which hadn’t happened when “Satanic Bitch,” her mother, was still living there.

The “guys” would drink on the weekends, snack on copious amounts of junk food, and play role-playing games like Dungeons and Dragons. At seventeen and, then, eighteen, Emily got more than her fair share of lusty stares from her father’s friends. She’d even gotten into the habit of dressing provocatively, in short shorts and a thin top without a bra, or a bikini top during the hottest days of summer. She’d catch their horny stares, note them ogling her hard, erect nipples as she’d meander out of her bedroom to grab a slice of pizza and a beer or two. Her father was one of the “cool dads.” So long as she wasn’t leaving the house, she could drink up, provided that she kept her grades up.

Vincent was about the same age as her father’s friends were, then. Reminiscing over the time she’d “accidentally” left her bedroom door ajar while pretending to sleep, she moaned when she remembered her father’s best friend stopping in the hall, on his way to the bathroom, and fondling his cock while he looked at her body. She was clad in a thin, white tank top and a flimsy pair of panties, on top of the covers due to the heat.

As the scene from her past reran in the theater of her horny mind, Emily finally noted that her hands were idly caressing her inner thighs over her spandex Yoga shorts. When her fingers traveled to her very hot sweet spot, she giggled at how wet the crotch of her shorts had become. Still on passionate autopilot, she decided that his age wasn’t what got her dripping wet.

Maybe it was that body of his. Most guys her age already had dad-bods. Vince was, however, fit and lean with well-defined arms, legs, and chest. The way he moved and how his deft, confident hands, manhandled his projects was more arousing than the fact that his advanced years matched the men at the roots of her exhibitionist streak. 

Those musings found her hand slowly shoving itself under the waistband of her shorts. Her cunt was ablaze with lusty fire, and her clit was throbbing in need. Lost in primal desire, she fingered herself, leisurely, watching him work.

Soon, you’ll be working another muscle, you hot stud, she thought to herself.

Although the stretchy material of her shorts pressed her hand into an uncomfortable position, she pushed her hand further down and played in the wet folds of her cunt, finally inserting a finger. Curling the finger back and forth, which sent shivers of delight up and down her spine, Emily cupped her boobs through her thin top and squeezed them, sighing.

Right when she was really getting into it, giving herself a thorough self-fucking, Vincent turned, facing her house. With the curtains thrown wide open, there was no way he couldn’t see straight into her living room. She knew he had to have seen her there, staring at him, her legs splayed, and her hand in the cookie jar. To her dismay, although his eyes widened almost imperceptibly and the barest hint of a smirk crossed his lips, his head continued to turn, passing on the view of her fingering her hot, dripping cunt, and looked down the street.

“Oh, fucker. That’s how you’re going to play this, pretend to not see me? I’ll show you.”

Emily pulled up her shirt, exposing her round, firm breasts, and stimulated her nipples until even just blowing her hot, moist breath on them sent shivers down her stomach and into her clit. When her neighbor’s head once more turned, his smile alerted her that he saw her just fine. Not bothering to pretend she wasn’t aware, she smiled and made her hand dance over her clit in double time.

“Watch me cum. It’s so hot when you watch me.”

Her orgasm was quick and intense. Emily’s legs shook, and her back arched as she was ambushed by the throes of passion. Screaming in orgasmic release so loudly that she wondered if he could hear her, Emily rode out the orgasm, tugging on her nipples until they hurt.

When her soul came back down to earth, Emily noted, to her chagrin, that Vincent had returned to work. With a “humph,” she stripped nude, throwing her two articles of clothing over the back of the couch, and decided to grab a shower.

“Now, you’ll know what you missed.”

After rinsing off the sweat of her masturbatory exertion, Emily’s lust-possessed mind picked out her “slut clothes” without any thought or planning. Tight, black shorts that showed off a good deal of her ass cheeks and a thin, yellow tank top made of wispy cotton were her go-to, "look at me" weapons. With her body still slightly damp from the shower, the thin top clung to her feminine curves, enhancing her breasts more than concealing them. Chewing on two edibles, because a quiet, more sensible part of her psyche still had reservations, she scooped up her neighbor's strewn tools and marched back across the street.

His knowing, naughty smile when she approached caused her to suddenly understand. Her sexy neighbor was well aware of what she was doing, but, while he’d acknowledge her antics, he wasn’t going to press the matter. He knew her game, and he didn’t mind playing it, one bit.

By the time she’d crossed the street, well aware of her taut nipples darkening the fabric of her top, and bounced back up his driveway, he’d gone back into his garage.

“Did you take care of the problem in your drawers?” The sultry delight in his voice was unmistakable.

“Yes,” she quipped back, enjoying the innuendo of his banter. “I got real hands-on with things.” 

They conversed, the sexual tension growing thick and heavy. His deviant, quick wit layered their talk with lusty undertones, made all the more palpable by their unspoken acceptance. Vince knew that she’d seen him watching, and he didn’t care. He also knew that she wanted him to watch her, lust over her, and yet keep a respectful distance until she decided she wanted to take things further if she ever did. Additionally, he was fun to talk to, and he made her laugh as well as feel sexy and desired. Emily found herself staring at his exposed torso and drooling over the swell of his cock in his jeans. From the looks of it, his cock was long and thick.

“What room is that above here?” She pointed to the ceiling as she replaced the borrowed tools.

“Oh, my bedroom. Leave it to the designers to put the master bedroom over the garage, so the floor is freezing cold in the winter.” He laughed at that.

Emily strode out of the clean and organized garage and pointed up to the window. For no other reason than to make her tits jut out, she traced an imaginary line from his second-story bedroom to her bedroom window.

“I guess you have the perfect view into both my living room and bedroom, huh? From that height, you could probably see all of my bed. How embarrassing.” Her smile, showing that she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed, revealed the emptiness of her words.

“Well,” Vincent replied, appreciating her round breasts and hard nipples. “I never really gave it much thought, but...”

“My light!” she interrupted. “My romantic-time salt lamp doesn’t annoy you, does it? I never thought about how it might be shining into your windows.”

“Not at all,” he laughed.

“Good. I use that for mood lighting when I’m in the mood.” It was a silly and repetitive reply, but she was running on pure instinct, not intellect.

It was a beautiful day, and Emily spent it in her yard, weeding the flower beds, so she could bend over on her hands and knees with her ass thrust out toward her neighbor. Then, of course, her door and windows needed cleaning, which meant lots of stretching, which caused the fabric of her tank top to get pulled taut over her tits. Her neighbor never missed a beat, working while appreciating her teasing.

Eventually, although it arrived with agonizing slowness from Emily’s point of view, the sun set, and the sky grew dark with countless, brilliant stars twinkling. In a mad rush, lest her boiling passion completely consumed her, she raised the mini-blinds in the bedroom, ensuring that her neighbor across the street had an unobstructed view, stripped off her clothes, and headed down the hall for another shower.

Her App-ordered dinner arrived while she was just finishing cleaning up. Throwing on a satin, kimono-style robe, she answered the door, very aware of the delivery driver’s lecherous staring, and then decided to eat in her living room, facing the window, instead of her usual perch in the dinette. Eating pepper steak and fried rice straight from the containers, all Emily could muster was to attempt to avoid thinking about what she knew was going to do.

Some random movie streaming from some unknown channel occupied her forebrain. The irony of the universe tipped its hand, as the movie was about an early-twenties babysitter having an affair with the older father. It was as if the entire universe had reconfigured itself to prime her for getting off on Vincent watching her. While she dined, her mind finally focusing on what she had in store, she saw her neighbor, showered and dressed in loose, cotton pants, walk out into the cool night air, and vape.

Emily was well aware that her robe was half open and that the light from the television illuminated her in a soft, bluish glow. A few shrugs of her shoulders caused the robe to open wider, exactly as she desired. Enthralled, she watched her neighbor do his usual scan of the area. His gaze passed over, maybe even focused upon, her big, bay windows a few times. However, he was content to merely scan the surroundings, gaze at the stars and creatures of the night, and lean against the brick surrounding his garage, seemingly relaxed and content.

Needing him to do the exact opposite of that, Emily abruptly stood up, let her robe fall to the floor with a flourish of her arms, and turned off the television. The light streaming in from the kitchen painted her body in pale shadows, but she knew her womanly figure was outlined in the near-darkness.

“It’s about time you drooled over me,” she said to him, although there was no chance he could hear her.

The bedroom light flicked on, and she attended to her bed, still nude. Her favorite toy, a writhing, vibrating dildo with a built-in clit sucker, was chosen from her arsenal of playthings. Hoping that he got the hint about her Himalayan salt lamp, she turned it on and let the orange glow temper the room with its soft, romantic light. With the bedroom light turned off, her boudoir reminded her of a coastal sunset.

Primed and ready, the only thing missing was her neighbor, the necessary wanton voyeur to appreciate her sultriness and to lust over her sex-rocked body. Where had he run off to? Each second ticked by as if it were an eternity, challenging her resolve. Finally, he emerged from the house, once more.

Emily stood there, her heart beating out of her chest, completely exposed, and mentally willing him to look at her. Not at all focused on her bedroom window, which she thought was rude since she’d gone through all the trouble of ensuring that he could watch her, he looked up the street, then down it, at the sky, then to the work he’d just done in his yard, and, finally, toward her window.

A quick smile and a nod, and, then, he leaned back against the wall. Vincent wasn’t pretending to not notice her, he was watching.

Perfect. Just what I want. Now stand there like a good neighbor and get horny for me.

Unceremoniously, Emily threw her overheated, naked body onto the bed, swiveling around until her steamy cunt faced the window. Her slit was soaked, white, creamy love-fluid flowing out, which allowed her to easily plunge the full depth into her hole. She fucked herself with wild abandon, moaning loudly and thrusting her hips up to meet the strokes of her toy.

“I guess I should turn it on.”

The humming buzz was music to her ears, and the dual sensations of the rubbery shaft undulating and throbbing inside her while the sucker portion licked her swollen, sensitive clit like a thousand tongues on a mission sent her body into instant, sexual overload. On the cusp of an intense orgasm, she violently pulled the writhing sex machine out of her twat and moved the sucker head over her nipples. This allowed her to calm down a bit, prolong the show, as well as sit up to observe her neighbor’s reaction.

He was still there, still watching, and still smiling. 

“Oh, fuck, that’s so hot,” Emily shrieked when she saw his hand reach down and fondle his meat through his pants.

Knowing that he was under her spell pushed her over the edge. Overcome with lust, her mind nothing more than primal, sexual urge, Emily turned over and pointed her ass toward the window. With her breath coming out in whining, moaning pants, Emily quickly glanced back to ensure she was still being lustfully watched and quickly impaled herself on her toy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Watch me cum. I’m cumming just for you. I need you to want me. Pull out your cock and stroke it for me. Please, cum while I cum.”

She knew he was still there, but she was submerged too deep in the waters of passion to bother looking. She impaled herself on her toy, her ass humping back into it, while the other end found the perfect spot to encase her hard clit. The orgasm that ripped through her core was so intense that she, at first, thought she’d contorted her back to the point of injury. Oddly, she didn’t care; the pleasure was worth it.

Still wanting more, the toy was cast aside, and both of the horny brunette’s hands plunged between her thighs, squishing in the wetness and tugging on her clit. 

“Fucking fuck me. I want your cock. I need to taste your cum. Fucking watch me, you bastard.”

Emily came three more times, her neighbor’s attentive, smiling gaze adding a dirtiness to her masturbation that shattered her soul into a thousand pieces and rearranged it into sex personified. A real person, playing her game, was so much kinkier than random strangers online. When she’d finished abusing her body, she walked over to her mood lamp and turned it off, leaving only darkness.

On a whim, she strutted up to the window, and, of course, Vince was gone. Just then, she saw his bedroom light come on. His curtains were open, and she had a great view of him milling about. He was smiling while he undressed.

First, his tight T-shirt was peeled from his torso, and Emily licked her lips in hunger. When he bent forward, taking off his lounge pants, she caught a brief glimpse of his manhood. His cock was long and thick. 

“I want to feel that explode in my mouth and my cunt. Soon, I’m going to fuck you. But, I’m going to tease you until you go crazy, first.”

He was looking out of the window, and, for a brief moment, their eyes locked. She didn’t know if he could see her enshrouded in the darkness, but the brief nod to her made her think that he could. Then, his light went off, and all was still. Emily, however, was far from quiet or relaxed. She exhausted the battery in her toy before she could close her eyes, wondering if he could see the soft light it gave off as she plunged the shaft in and out of her cunt.