The first time Alex saw her, his brain short-circuited.
He was twenty-three, living alone in a small one-bedroom flat on the second floor, working long shifts at a logistics company and coming home to silence every night. That Tuesday evening the moving truck pulled up next door. He watched through the peephole out of boredom—until she stepped out of the passenger side.
Sophia.
Thirty-three years old, but she looked like pure sin in a sundress. Long dark hair that fell past her shoulders, full lips, and a body that should have been illegal. Big, heavy tits that strained against the thin fabric with every step, the deep cleavage making his mouth go dry. A narrow waist that flared into wide, soft hips and a thick, round ass that bounced lightly as she walked. Her thighs were smooth and full. Even from the hallway he could tell her skin was soft, the kind of skin that would mark easily under rough hands. She looked like a young MILF who still got wet just from being looked at the right way.
Her husband, David, was around thirty-five—average build, already looking tired. Their three-year-old boy clung to Sophia’s leg for a moment before being carried inside. Alex barely registered the kid. His eyes stayed locked on her.
That night he jerked off twice thinking about those tits and that ass.
The next week he started finding reasons to knock on their door.
First it was “I heard you moving in, need any help with boxes?” Then “I made too much coffee, want some?” Then “The building Wi-Fi’s acting up, is yours okay?” Each time Sophia answered the door in something casual—leggings that hugged every curve of her ass, a loose top that still couldn’t hide the heavy sway of her breasts. Her husband was almost always at work. The little boy was usually at preschool or napping. Alex made sure of the timing.
He started complimenting her carefully.
“You look really good today.”
“That color suits you.”
“I don’t know how your husband leaves the house with you looking like that.”
At first she laughed it off, cheeks pink. But she never told him to stop coming by. She started lingering in the doorway longer. Sometimes she invited him in for a quick glass of water. He noticed the way her eyes flicked down to the front of his jeans when she thought he wasn’t looking.
Two weeks after they moved in, he went over on a Friday afternoon. David was out of town for work until Sunday. The boy was at a playdate until evening. Sophia opened the door in a soft tank top and short shorts. No bra. Her nipples were faintly visible. The shorts clung to her thick ass and the soft mound between her legs.
Alex’s cock was already half-hard just from the sight.
They sat on the living-room sofa. He kept the conversation light at first—work, the building, the weather—then slowly steered it.
“You must get lonely when he’s gone so much,” he said, voice low. “A woman like you… it’s a waste.”
Sophia’s cheeks flushed. “Alex… don’t say things like that.”
He leaned closer. “Why not? It’s true. You’re sexy as fuck. Those tits… that ass… I’ve been hard every single day since I first saw you.”
Reader Discussion
0