"Who is that?!" I exclaim as I watch a young man in his twenties carrying boxes from a moving van.
"Must be the new neighbor," my husband calls out from his study down the hall. "Heard they bought it five percent higher than asking price. Competitive bidding for this neighborhood."
I roll my eyes as I hear the rustling of newspaper, as Micheal returns to his morning ritual. *He is so oblivious* I ponder to myself. *And, God, he is so boring - all of the time!* I take a sip of my coffee, returning my attention to the new neighbor.
He can't be older than his early twenties. I watch with a faint rebellious smirk as he bends down to pick up a large container. The young man, sporting a fresh haircut and clean shaven face, was wearing just some basketball shorts and a tank top. I can't seem to take my eyes off his strong, muscular arms. I gently trace the edge of my mug as I admire his broad shoulders, tight ass ...
"HMM -" I jump with shock as my husband approaches behind me, startling me from my daydream. "He seems young to be buying his own home. Must work in the STEM field. Yeah, I bet he works in the STEM field."
I close my eyes in irritation at the sound of my husband's droning, monotone voice. In every way, Micheal was opposite from the newcomer. My husband was an older man, well past his prime, with a balding head and dreary appearance. I glance over at him with a hint of disdain.
He continues to drone on about the financial opportunities of the STEM field. I blankly stare as his voice fades into the background. Everything about him seems ... stale. Boring. In fact, if not for the lifestyle he enables for me, I don't think I would stay with him. We've been married for almost fifteen years, and financially, Micheal has done quite well for himself. But, emotionally, physically, sexually ... I grimace at the thought of sleeping with him.
With a sigh of discontent, I return my gaze to the new neighbor. He has a chiseled face, with a fresh young glow about him. I ignore my husband as he walks away, done with his monologue and oblivious to my new infatuation. The young man wipes the sweat from his brow, as I continue to check out his fine, manly figure.
*If only I could have a man like THAT* I exclaim in my head.
I hear my husband pick up his keys from the entryway table. "Chelsea? See you tonight, dear!" Micheal calls out from the stairwell. "Yes, tonight!" I respond, not taking my eyes off my exciting new neighbor. I see Micheal walk down the driveway and wave. "Welcome to the neighborhood!" He calls out. "I'm Micheal."
"Thanks Micheal! I'm Jake. Pleasure." He smiles and waves in acknowledgement as Micheal enters his car and pulls out of the driveway. Jake then turns around, walking back to the task at hand. I blush and withdraw slightly from the window, unsure if he saw me. He smiles, crouches down and picks up more boxes.
*********
I sigh contently as I feel the hot water of the shower cascading down my body. I had no where urgent to be, but I always liked to look presentable. As I lather my shoulders with soap, I picture Jake, my new next door neighbor. *I wonder if a guy like that is single ...* I think to myself, as I curl my hair around my fingers. I let my mind imagine his young body caressing mine, as if he was in the shower with me.
After a few minutes of indulging in my fantasy, I reach around and reluctantly turn off the shower. As I dry myself off, my mind continues to wander. "I wonder what his dick is like?" I say out loud to myself. Surprise and a sense of naughtiness rise in me as I proceed to the bedroom, admiring my own voice. A devilish grin grows on my face as I watch my silky figure in the full bedroom mirror. The late morning light fills the room with a soft warmth, making me pause with my beauty.
My hair, still wet and plastered in strands around my neck and shoulders, gives me a rugged, almost Amazonian appearance. My redhead locks match my hazel green eyes well. I move directly into the sunlight and let my towel drop around my knees, nodding in approval as I admire my form. I have a taller frame, and a nice, athletic hourglass figure. I run my hands along my defined abs. My height gives them a slender appearance. I run my hands up and gently press together my full breasts. Despite being in my mid thirties, they've retained a youthful perkiness. *They fit my body well.* I think to myself. I press them together seductively, as if I had an audience. I look up and down at my pale appearance, and slide my hand down between my legs, feeling the smooth skin from a fresh Brazilian wax the day before.
I smile approvingly. I may be in my mid thirties, but I still got it! I turn around and admire my beautiful ass. My hours upon hours on the stair master machine at the gym have paid off. With a soft giggle, I give myself a playful spank. Climbing onto the bed on my hands and knees, with my back still facing the mirror, I look back and sway seductively, as my mind returns to Jake's body.
"You like my ass, Jake?" I say with a sultry voice. "I bet you'd like to stick your dick in it." I imagine his body pressing up against mine. My hand slides over my bare pussy as I feel wetness between my lips. I seductively place my slippery fingers in my mouth, playing my fantasy further in my head.
"Mmm, yeah, I -" I freeze in place as I glance over through the window. Standing across from me in his window, was none other than Jake!
We stare at each other, not moving from place. Jake was in his same clothes from earlier. He stood there, pressed up into the window, mouth and eyes wide open.
"Uh - uh." I stutter in shock with my wet fingers still close to my mouth. He must've seen that! I wonder how long he has been there, watching me naked.
*He must have seen me taste myself ...* as I let my hand drift down, still on my hands and knees on the bed. From his point of view, he can see me from the side, in all of my glory. I slowly sit up, gently covering my perky nipples with one arm, until I am kneeling on the bed, facing him directly. Jake stands in his own mirror, unmovable. With a shy smile, I slowly pull away my arm, fully exposing my breasts in his direction.
Jake's arms rest against the window as he leans in for a better look. I stifle a giggle as I playfully trace the outline of my nipple. I can feel my heart pounding. I glance down, and can see my breast bounce slightly with every beat of my heart. I glance up as I cup my breasts in each hand.
He was gone.
******
Later that night ...
******
I slip on my night gown and slide wordlessly into bed, next to my husband. He is reading some financial journal, making notations with his pen and mumbling the occasional "mmmhmmm" as he flips through the pages. My mind wanders back to my exciting morning. I glance over through the window, and I can see that the lights of Jake's upper floor, where I saw him earlier, were off. I could see the glow of a TV reflecting from what must be his first floor.
I reminisce on my little impromptu show as Micheal sets his journal down. "You know, Chelsea, dear," he plainly states, "it has been a while since we've made love."
I inwardly cringe at his implication, but I knew what I had to do. You see, over the years I have regarded myself as sort of a trophy wife. I married a successful, older man several years my senior. As the marriage went on, I began to see having sex with him as paying my dues to remain in this club called marriage.
