Emily was blood-boiling sexy and she knew it. Although she tried to avoid the trap of narcissism, raw sexuality radiated from her body like a beacon, and, when she felt safe in her environs, she let her sensual nature run rampant and free. Of course, there was far more to her than just stunning good looks and that enticing, horny aura that advertised wild, wanton sex and kinky perversions beyond one’s wildest imagination. She was also highly educated, creative, intelligent, and independent.

On paper, Emily sounded very average. Of average height and slender build, her long, light brown hair and matching eyes complimented her smooth, medium complexion, but sounded far from exotic. Out of college for less than two years, her skin still had that supple smoothness of youth, but her attitude was tempered with the empowerment of budding maturity and eking out her living however she saw fit.

Her body garnered her attention, both wanted and undesired, wherever she went, regardless of what she wore. Sometimes, she’d intentionally wear a tight or low-cut top just to count the number of people that stared at her boobs. Although not large enough to attract the big-tits lovers, her daily exercising kept them round, high, and firm. The rest of her body was, likewise, fit and well-proportioned; but, if she wanted volumes of lusty attention, anything that showed off her drool-worthy butt was guaranteed to attract horny leers, would-be seducers, and the occasional comment.

Emily’s appeal wasn’t just her body or her normalcy heightened to lava-hot sexiness. There was just something about her, her poise and body language, that screamed scorching, dripping sex. Perhaps it was her full lips that were in a perpetual pout, perfect for passionate kissing or sucking on a cock or clit. Her confidence and ownership of her sexuality most definitely had something to do with her mesmerizing presence. While one couldn’t point out any one trait, physical or not, that made her so alluring, just seeing or speaking with her made one instantly think that she was a horny, wild fuck on the prowl.

What all of that meant was, that in addition to being a strong, assertive career-oriented woman, she was also a sexy siren, and she could fuck almost anyone she felt like playing with. Nearly every single man, single, married, or otherwise involved, and any woman, from bi-curious to lesbian, would quickly fall under the spell of her sexual magnetism. Whenever Emily felt like a hard cock or dripping cunt, she could easily find one or more willing partners.

Surprisingly, in today’s hookup culture, that wasn’t as often as one might think. It wasn’t that Emily had a low sex drive, quite the opposite; in fact, she was almost always horny, usually masturbating a few times each day and really going wild at night. However, while she loved licking and fingering a dripping, quivering pussy, or sucking and fucking hard cocks, just being desired, and seeing the arousal she caused in others, really rocked her boat. Eyes lustily fixated on her shapely ass, the swell of an erection in a stranger’s trousers, and women’s eyes gleaming with desire got her off harder than anything else.

Her career consumed most of her time, so she never pursued relationships. If Emily wanted sex, she went out and got it. Usually, though, she’d sign on to the internet and find a willing, virtual playmate, and there was no short supply of people, both men and women, that were willing to masturbate over her while she got off on the attention. Strangers, in real life or online, aroused over her, got the brunette so torridly overheated that she’d cum half a dozen times, then spend the rest of the night masturbating over the experience.

With work weeks that approached sixty hours, she was well-compensated for her business talents and acumen and drove a nice car, which she parked in a spacious garage in her adorable, stone-clad home. She lived the good life, one of modern convenience, and enjoyed life. Seldom cooking, because there was no need to waste time when so many people were more than anxious to deliver her cellphone-app-ordered dishes, she tended her yard to unwind, exercised, watched nerdy television shows and movies, and played online.

Her nice home was in a quiet, tranquil neighborhood with neighbors that were friendly but minded their own business. Emily was affluent enough to live life on her own terms and young enough to enjoy it to the fullest. Other than Vince, the slightly older, very handsome man that lived across the street, she didn’t know any of her other neighbor’s names. They waved and passed some friendly chit-chat now and then, but everyone minded their own business.

She’d met Vincent the first time she looked at the home, nearly a year ago. He was a handsome widower, in his forties, and had lived in the house across the street for over a decade. His two daughters were in their late teens or early twenties, and they dropped by now and then, but no longer lived there. Despite his mature age, he was physically robust and well-muscled, and she thought that he had a very nice ass and an impressive package from the bulge in his pants. He was also outside quite a bit, even taking several vaping breaks in the evenings.

An ex-smoker, Vince turned to vaping, which he said saved his life. When alive, his wife didn’t want him doing any of that in the house. Even now, several years after she’d passed, he still vaped outside, enjoying the tranquility of the area, watching the birds and squirrels, and generally keeping an eye on things. He wasn’t overbearing, nosy, or creepy, just a people-watcher. Vincent was the type to stay out of other people’s business, but he’d be the first one to pitch in and help if needed.

Emily liked Vincent and felt that he was the perfect neighbor. He’d wave, chat if they’d happen to meet at the mailboxes, and otherwise be a good neighbor, but he never made a move on her, like so many others always do, or let his appreciative glances of her outer beauty descend to lechery. Of course, he’d check out her body when he happened to be outside, which was often, and she was leaving or coming home. She actually enjoyed it, because he was “safe,” and she got off on the attention.

More than once, she’d caught him unobtrusively staring and felt that tingling warmth spread throughout her body. He also didn’t seem to be threatened by her overt sexual aura, nor did ever take things beyond a respectful admiration. Vince also didn’t quickly turn away, pretending that he hadn’t been staring, when she caught him. He’d just smile and wave, not at all flustered that her Yoga pants were skin tight and showed off her ass, the material showing off the crease between her cheeks.

Over the months that spanned the Summer and Fall, Emily found herself intentionally choosing revealing clothes to wear. When working outside, she tried to draw his eyes to her body, usually with great success. Vincent’s demeanor catered perfectly to her kink; he appreciated and lusted after her, but didn’t intrude on her solace. Of course, she found him hot, as well, and found herself, more than once, spying on him through the curtains as he worked in his yard, shirtless, in shorts, with those firm muscles rippling from his exertion.

Winter came, and with it snow, and, while she toiled away with a meager, little snow shovel, trying to clear a path to get to work, Emily was stunned when Vincent came right over. A loud, burly snow thrower chugged away in front of him, and he cleared her entire driveway in just a few minutes. He refused payment with a wave of his hand, telling her that’s just what neighbors do, look out for each other. Then came the following Spring, and Emily went further with Vince than she ever had. It was unintentional, at first.

One of her friends from work had set her up with their husband’s friend, thinking that the two of them would “hit it off.” Mentally sighing at the universal need of married people to pair up their single friends, Emily agreed to go on a date with Thomas. He was nice, and they got along, but the sparks just didn’t fly. Dinner and a movie devolved into just a meal, as the both of them just weren’t well-matched to the other. Since her workout clothing was in her car, Emily stopped by the gym for an evening workout, which got her blood pumping much more than Thomas had. Not wanting to shower there, she drove home in her sports halter and yoga shorts, planning to shower at home.

It was dark, shortly before 11:00 pm, when Emily pulled into her driveway. The windows of her car were down all the way, so she could savor the fresh, Spring air, and her music was blasting on the stereo. Feeling good and looking forward to a long, hot shower, the brown-haired vixen was already planning a long night of masturbating on camera, getting off to the anonymous cocks being stroked in her honor. Unnoticed, Vincent was outside, enjoying the starlit night and listening to an unseen owl, who-wooing somewhere off in the distance. He leaned against his garage wall, facing Emily’s house.

It wasn’t as if he were intentionally spying or anything. It just so happened that his preferred perch directly faced her house. Vincent nearly choked on his vape when Emily exited the car. She was dancing about a bit, to the rhythm of the song she’d been playing, and, with her car door still open, she bent forward, jutting her amazing ass out, and rolled up the windows of her car before half-dancing and half-jogging into her house. While not hidden from view, Vince merely ran his fingers through his hair, musing over the gray streaking it here and there, and emitted an “mmm” sound in quiet appreciation.

As usual, Emily went straight to her bedroom, which faced Vincent’s house. Sliding the window open to let in the cool breeze, she raised the mini blinds and turned on the light. Completely unaware that the eruption of light had drawn her neighbor’s eyes, she stripped out of her skimpy top, her luscious breasts exposed. Emily’s perky nipples responded to the cool, night air, popping out hard and firm. Without a single thought about being seen—it was a safe and peaceful neighborhood, after all—she sauntered out of her bedroom, down the hall, and then across the living room, headed toward the main bathroom.

The curtains over her big, bay windows were open a bit, wide enough for her to see out or others to see in. Topless, her perky boobs bouncing with her steps, she’d passed the open curtains before her mind registered what she’d seen. Startled for less than a second, due to the surprise of it rather than feeling threatened, Emily stopped in her tracks, then snuck up to the window to verify what she thought she’d seen.

“Is Vince out? Perving on me?” she asked herself.

Stealthily, not at all afraid, and letting her long, brown hair down from the bun she’d tied it into, so she could exercise, she stood in front of the high window and moved the edge of one curtain aside, allowing her to peer out from the corner. Sure enough, Vincent was out there, pacing a little and seemingly focused on some features of his yard. She’d seen him do this before, at night. Her sexy neighbor would inspect portions of his yard, and, within a week or two, start improving the areas he’d been examining.

Giggling, feeling naughty and playful, and perhaps experiencing a modicum of trepidation, Emily slowly opened the gaps in the curtains a little more. The soft backlighting coming from the kitchen gave just enough illumination so that she was positive she could be seen if she walked in front of the windows once more. Waiting until he’d turned to face her house, Emily fought down hyperventilation, her arousal skyrocketing.

When he’d finished inspecting his yard, he had once more leaned his back into the brick facade that surrounded his garage. Then, Emily, stifling a smile, slowly, very intentionally, sauntered across the living room as if she were headed back into her bedroom. Fully aware that he could see, and giving her perky, medium-sized, C-cup breasts extra jiggle, it was all she could do to not turn her head towards Vincent’s house to see the expression on his face.

Before she’d cleared the living room and entered her hallway, Emily moaned loudly. Her light brown eyes had darkened in her lust, and her cunt grew fiery-hot, gushing out more wetness than she thought was possible without physical stimulation. Her already-hard nipples stiffened even more; even her areolas puffed out. Leaning against the wall, her hand plunged inside the waistband of her skin-tight Yoga shorts and played in the wetness, her fingers thrumming over her clit with wild abandon.

While Emily had shown off on camera to complete strangers or “regular playmates” half a world away, and sometimes dressed provocatively just for the sexual rush of being desired, this was the first time she’d ever intentionally shown her nude flesh. It was sexual overload, her libido exploding through every atom of her physical body, her mind reeling from the flood of horny desire that possessed her heart and soul. Forsaking her planned shower for the moment, as her need to orgasm overpowered cleanliness, the horny sex-kitten tripped in her rush to disrobe while running into her bedroom.

“Clumsy, fucking slut.”

Emily made it into her room and got as far as turning on the soft, salt lamp that she kept for mood lighting, but didn’t make it to the bed. A quick glance, hopefully, a stealthy one, revealed Vincent still outside. He was walking up and down his front sidewalk, measuring in paces and gauging things with outspread arms. Just to draw his focus, she flicked the light on and off a few times, leaning over her dresser. It wasn’t that she couldn’t reach the switch without sticking her award-worthy ass out and bending over; it was because she wanted to make her neighbor hard for her.

Blushing, somewhat embarrassed over her naughty, dirty behavior, Emily slowly turned to face the window. Her shaking hands caressed her breasts, pinching her nipples and making her wish that they were large enough that she could lick and suck her nipples. Nonetheless, her heightened state of needy arousal had every nerve fiber in her body so sensitive that her legs buckled under the torrent of pleasure that crashed over her.

“Oh, fuck. I’m so fucking horny,” she addressed the darkness outside. “Look at me; please look at me. Do you like my sexy body, Vince? Do you want to fuck me? Oh, I wish I could see you out there. Are you jacking off to me? Please want me.”

As she spoke her dirty-talking monologue, her hands had wandered down her torso, kneading her sweaty, wanton flesh, and, eventually, her fingers simultaneously attacked her clit and fucked her sopping sex. Usually, Emily masturbated slowly, edging herself to prolong the pleasure, building up to an explosive release. This time, she felt as if she’d die if she didn’t cum quickly and hard. Her clit was swollen to the point that it stuck out; the clitoral hood pushed back. Engorged as it was, she tugged and pulled on it, screaming and moaning to the crescendo of three fingers rapidly plunging into her aching cunt.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Watch me. Please watch me cum. I’m fucking cumming.” Her voice was so loud that it echoed off her bedroom walls.

Emily’s rapture ripped through her, weakening her legs to the point that her convulsing body hurled itself back into the dresser. “Aaah, fuck! I need a cock. Come fuck me, Vince.”

The dresser tipped back into the wall with a thud, some nick-knacks and a few pictures rattling to the floor. Emily didn’t care; she was lost in lust. The new thrill of being observed by a voyeur had her in a stupor. Spinning around, she bent over the dresser, her moaning, panting mouth inches from the wall, and fucked her now-dripping cunt with fury. Wanting more, she lubed up her little finger with her sexual fluids and shoved it in her asshole.

“Fuck my ass with your big cock, your dirty pervert. Spying on me like that! How fucking dare you. Oh fucking, I’m cumming again.”

This time, the quaking spasms of her orgasm brought her to her knees. Writhing and moaning in ecstasy more intense than she’d ever felt before, her second orgasm crested in waves, each one peaking higher and higher until all she could was convulse on the floor.

When her mind cleared, she brushed herself off and giggled over what a dirty, little slut she’d become. When she turned off the light, her neighbor was still there, smiling. No longer worried about opening Pandora’s box, Emily opened her “special” drawer in her dresser and pulled out her favorite, purple dildo. That night, it was going to be her shower buddy.

Two more orgasms, using the shower massage and her toy, finally sated her to the point that she crawled, still nude, into bed for some sleep. Emily’s dreams were filled with what she’d done and the possibility of turning Vincent into a neighbor with benefits. In the morning, Emily felt well-rested and in a much better mood than she had been for a very long time. Deciding to take her coffee outside to enjoy the very pleasant, Saturday morning, she was only mildly surprised to see her neighbor’s garage door open.

Emily concocted an excuse to walk over, and tweaked her nipples to hardness, as well as ensure her Yoga shorts were pulled up tight enough in the crotch to highlight her labia.

“Morning, neighbor,” she cooed, seductively.

“Good morning, Emily. Actually, quite the beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

Vincent was looking superb, better than most men her age. She didn’t even bother to hide her lusty stares. “May I borrow some tools? I have some drawer pulls I want to make nice and tight.”

He smiled, and that made her cunt catch fire and drip. “Help yourself. Any plans for the weekend?”

“Nah,” she mused, randomly grabbing a few screwdrivers and a hammer for good measure. “I think I’m going to do the same thing I did last night, the exact, same thing.”

“Well,” Vincent responded, “I’ll be home all weekend, you know, because I’m such a party animal, so, if you need anything, just come knocking.”

“I will.”

She could feel his eyes on her body as she slowly bounced across the street. As soon as she closed the door, the tools were thrown to the floor of her entryway. Emily’s cabinet drawers were in fine shape. However, her living room needed some rearranging. If she was going to put on a show for Vincent, the couch needed to face the window.