I watch through the window over my kitchen sink as Cassandra’s front door opens and she prances out.
“Seriously?” I question the universe as she skips down her driveway, wearing practically nothing.
Each step has her tiny yellow silk shorts riding up her thighs, exposing the expanse of jiggling pale skin.
Cassandra takes the last step from her driveway to the road, and her foot comes down a little harder than before, which is highlighted by her unrestrained tits bouncing under her matching yellow silk tank top. The thin straps are barely enough to hold the soft fabric across her chest.
And I know the fabric is soft because I’ve touched it.
I’ve held it in my hands.
My fingers tighten around the glass I’m drinking water from, and I have to force them to loosen. But I don’t look away. Even when she looks in this direction.
The kitchen is dark, and I have a film over this window that blurs the view of anyone trying to look in, so I know she can’t see me. Which is why I continue to stand here staring while she turns her back to me and starts to struggle with something in the mailbox.
The wiggling. And shaking. And bouncing… It’s too much.
This woman is too fucking much.
And when she finally yanks the item free and mail falls to the ground around her, she finally does it.
She bends over.
The tiny shorts are no longer shorts; they’re barely underwear as Cassandra flashes me with an unrestricted view of the bottom half of her ass cheeks. The material pulled tight across her pussy. The bunching fabric right where I want to put my face.
I’m across the kitchen, across the living room, and have my hand on the handle of my front door before I realize what I’m doing.
I close my eyes.
I just got home. Walked in my door five minutes before she walked out hers. I just needed some water and a slice of bread before I crawled into bed.
I don’t need to accost my neighbor in the street.
Releasing the doorknob, I move back into the kitchen and watch her sexy ass walk back up her driveway and into her house.
After I sleep, I’ll replay her walk on my security feed.
For research purposes.
To make sure she locked her front door.
And the next time she leaves the house, I’ll go back over and relock her bedroom window.
I don’t need the temptation of knowing it’s open.
