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🥵🍆My hot neighbour 🥵🍆

I’d often watched him. Whenever he stood in his garden in the mornings – bare-chested, slightly sweaty from his jog. His gaze would sometimes fall on me, but never for too long. One evening – it was warm, and I was wearing nothing but a loose summer dress with nothing underneath – he suddenly appeared at my door. ‘I just wanted to ask if you could help me with the Wi-Fi,’ I said. His gaze lingered briefly on my cleavage. I let him in. And I knew: something was going to happen tonight. We stood close together in front of my laptop, his arm brushing against mine. I could feel his warmth, his breath. Suddenly, he hesitantly placed his hand on my hip. I turned towards him, and our lips met immediately. He lifted me onto the kitchen table; my dress rode up, his hands explored me as if they’d been waiting just for this moment. I’d been ready for ages – wet, hot, full of desire. Without saying much, he undressed; his body was hard and toned, his gaze full of longing.