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It's been a long time since the last story I submitted, I felt it was about time I added something new.
I hope you enjoy this new series which I look forward to updating as regularly as I can.
And always remember to read responsibly.
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She has a ritual. Every day she runs, working out muscles along her thighs and calves. Every day she's out there when the sun is beginning to set and brings about that warm glow to cover the world. Every day, I watch her from my bedroom window fantasizing about what I want to do to her.
The first time I ever saw her, was when I was eighteen. I had just moved to a new house in one of those prebuilt residential areas meant to house a thousand people with very little space between homes. It was supposed to be a boom-town scenario, with families from all over coming to live there and make a proper neighborhood.
Instead, it was just our house, my mother and I. A lonely little building surrounded by a scant few trees and shrubs, with a wide cul-de-sac supporting our singular home. It was nice, though, because I got to go exploring the countryside around our home. All sorts of interesting bits of landscape leant itself to my travels and imagination, while also giving me ample opportunities to experiment with myself in the beauty that was nature.
As for the woman, she was absolutely stunning. Tall with a lean build from spending so much time working out, she wore her hair long and dark red to contrast beautifully with the light bronzing of near flawless skin.
What I loved the most, though, was watching the way her hips stretched out the nearly transparent material of her yoga pants, and how her sports bra barely helped contain the heavy mounds of breast-flesh that bounced and swayed with every stride.
She was poetry in motion.
Every time I watched her, I could feel myself getting aroused. Not just horny, but thoroughly aroused through every part of my body. I could feel the whole of my skin and muscles flushing with that ultimate desire to bed her and love her like no other man could.
It became an all consuming obsession, until the only thing I could think about was that woman, jogging out front with her body nearly on complete display.
It turned from just watching her the first few weeks, to sitting naked next to my window. Leaning back, cock in hand fully-hard and aching for attention, I would rub myself long before she would appear out front, ready for the moment when her beautiful form would slip out from behind the trees into full view and grace me with that image of perfection.
It didn't take long before I was shooting ropes of young seed across my bedroom wall and leaving a sticky mess of my thighs and hands.
A week later, and I wasn't content to just wait for her to jog past. My every thought was about her, remembering the way she looked as she would bounce along the sidewalk. I spent hours naked in my room, stroking and pumping my young shaft until I thought I was going to rub it raw.
Fantasies emerged. Simply things at first, having her naked in my bedroom, having her naked in the living room, being outside when she would jog past and catching a glimpse of her naked breasts. Each time I wanted more, and my fantasies continued to grow from there. Each time it was something more perverted and sickening until I started to think I was going mad.
My obsession finally took me to planning. Fantasy wasn't enough anymore, I wanted to have her. I wanted to possess her the way any man would want to have a woman. I remember the first day that I decided to move beyond just masturbating at my window, I was filled with a trembling excitement. My entire body was sweating so hard I thought I would drown where I knelt.
This was an escalation of all my previous thoughts, my sessions in my room becoming something entirely different.
Naked, hidden in the bushes near the sidewalk but just far enough away I wouldn't be heard, I waited for her to come into sight. My cock was made of stone at that point while I gingerly stroked it, though I had to be careful, being as close to cumming as I was.
It wasn't too much longer before she came up the street. From where I knelt I could see her large nipples sticking out from the sports bra, clearly visible thanks to her own perspiration soaking the fabric. I wanted to think of her as a slut, so proudly displaying herself and begging for a good fuck, but I couldn't.
Then she was there, in front of me. Only a brief moment, but she was so very close. I wanted to reach out and touch her, wrap my hands around her breasts and squeeze until the fabric ripped. I wanted to hold her down and rub my swollen length between her sweaty thighs until I burst in streams and gallons of seed against her sodden mound.
I groaned out loud as I came then, pumping my seed onto the ground at my knees. My whole body shook and jerked as I kept squeezing my spasming cock, losing track of the world and where that woman went.
It took me far too long to regain my senses, and by then, she had already disappeared back down the street. Still, I had made the first of my own personal steps towards taking what I wanted, having my way with an older woman like her.
A few days later, my courage restored, I decided to be bolder.
Naked again, this time in my front window, I stood there proudly with my hand wrapped around myself. Slow strokes, nerves buzzing with energy, I watched as she jogged up the street. I knew she would see me, she had to see me.
