This story is raw, shameless, and drenched in desire. It's about control, obsession, and the hunger we pretend not to have. Every scene pushes limits emotional and physical. If you're looking for polite erotica, this isn't it. But if you crave heat, power, and temptation?
Welcome.
Chapter 1
The Fence Between Us
I didn't know heartbreak could hit this hard.
I was leaning against the fence in my backyard, phone pressed to my ear like it was the last piece of her I had left. "Come on, Jess... don’t do this. We can fix it. Please." My voice cracked, and I hated how desperate I sounded. But I couldn’t help it.
Three years together. She was my first everything. Now she was off at some college a thousand miles away, talking like I was a boring phase she’d outgrown. Like I wasn’t even worth keeping.
The line went dead. Just silence.
I stood there for a while, staring at the patchy grass, the weight in my chest heavier than it had been all week. I felt pathetic. Nineteen years old, heartbroken over someone who’d already moved on. I didn’t even feel angry. Just… hollow.
That’s when I heard her voice, soft, warm, and surprisingly close.
"You okay, sweetheart?"
I looked up, startled. Katherine, my next-door neighbor, was standing just on the other side of the wooden fence, a garden hose in one hand, sunglasses pushed up on her head. She was wearing a black bikini top that hugged her chest just right, cleavage practically spilling over. Her skin had that soft tan glow not fake, not sunburnt, just real. Her body was the kind that turns heads at every age, curvy, thick in the best ways, with an ass that looked amazing even in shorts.
I tried to play it off. "Yeah. Just... life stuff."
She smiled at me, eyes kind. "Breakups suck. But trust me you’ll survive."
I laughed awkwardly. "Is it that obvious?"
She nodded with a smirk. “You were yelling into your phone like it owed you money.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Damn. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t apologize. I’ve got a son about your age. I know how rough it gets. Look, if you ever wanna talk, or just hang out, don’t be a stranger. We’re neighbors now.”
I looked at her, really looked and for a second, I forgot how shitty I felt. “Thanks. That... actually means a lot.”
She gave me a wink. “You’ll bounce back. And in the meantime, lemonade’s always cold over here.”
Then she turned around.... and yeah, I absolutely stared. I didn’t even try to hide it. That ass. That walk. The little bounce. Goddamn.
The next few days blurred together. Mostly late nights and mindless scrolling. I tried going for runs, hitting the gym, blasting music too loud anything to drown out the quiet.
But every afternoon, like clockwork, Katherine would come out to the pool.
It was her routine. A towel over the chair, big sunglasses on, and that same bikini... or sometimes a different one, smaller even. The fence between our yards wasn’t high enough to block my view from my bedroom window. Not even close. She must’ve known. Part of me wondered if she did it on purpose.
She’d lay out, oil up, stretch in ways that had me holding my breath. Sometimes she’d read, one leg draped lazily over the other. Sometimes she’d just close her eyes and tan, her chest rising and falling slowly, peacefully. And I’d be watching, barely blinking with a rock-hard problem in my boxers and the same question running through my mind over and over:
What would it feel like to touch her?
I shouldn’t have been thinking it. She was probably twenty years older than me. Married. My neighbor. But none of that stopped the thoughts or the way my body reacted to her. Every time she bent over to adjust the pool umbrella, I swore she was going to break me.
She was a woman, not a girl. And somehow, that made everything worse.
One evening, just before sunset, I caught her looking back at my window. Not for long. Just a quick glance. But it happened. My heart jumped. Did she know? Could she tell I’d been watching?
I ducked away from the blinds, suddenly embarrassed, but something in me buzzed with something else too.
Not shame.
Not quite.
Chapter 2:
Lemonade and Curves
It was just after noon when I finally worked up the nerve to walk over.
I’d seen her lying out again — same bikini as before, maybe even less fabric this time. The top strained to hold those tits in, and her hips curved like something out of a dream. The sunlight made her skin glow. She was lying on her stomach this time, legs slightly parted, and I’d been staring long enough to forget what day it was.
I didn’t plan on saying anything. I was just going to walk past the fence, maybe wave, maybe say hi. Instead, she turned her head, smiled, and called out to me before I even got the chance to decide.
“Tommy! You gonna walk past me all summer or you gonna come say hello?”
I stopped mid-step, hands in my pockets. “Didn’t wanna interrupt.”
“Interrupt what?” she said, sliding her sunglasses up. “I’m literally just lying here trying not to melt. Come keep me company.”
I hesitated. My heart was thudding. It wasn’t the heat.
“Come on, I don’t bite.” She grinned. “Unless you ask nicely.”
That line hit somewhere low in my stomach. I laughed, hoping she didn’t hear the way my voice cracked.
I opened the gate and stepped into her backyard. The heat hit harder here — or maybe that was just her. The scent of coconut oil and sun-warmed skin drifted in the air. I tried not to stare, but she hadn’t bothered adjusting her top when she rolled over, and those tits were half out. My eyes didn’t stand a chance.
She noticed. I know she did.
“Lemonade?” she asked, already rising from her chair.
“Yeah. That’d be nice.”
“Come in. Too hot to stand out here.” She grabbed a towel, draped it loosely around her hips, and walked toward the sliding glass door. Her ass swayed with every step, towel doing nothing to hide it. I followed like a dog chasing a steak.
Inside, her house was gorgeous. Open floor plan, spotless kitchen, cool air washing over me as I stepped in. She moved like she owned every inch of the space — graceful but unbothered, confident in a way most people only pretend to be.
“Have a seat,” she said, pouring lemonade into tall glasses. “You doing okay these days?”
“Getting there,” I said. “Breakups take time, I guess.”
She handed me a glass and leaned against the counter. No rush, no awkwardness — just Katherine being Katherine.
“Well, I meant what I said before. If you ever need anything — even just to vent — I’m around. My husband’s out of town again, so it’s just me rattling around in here.”
“Where does he go?”
“Work stuff. Conferences, client meetings. He’s in Ohio this week, I think.” She sipped her lemonade. “Comes with the job. Keeps him busy.”
“And you? Doesn’t it get boring?”
She smiled again — something about it felt different this time. Like there was a secret tucked behind it.
“Oh, I find ways to stay entertained.”
I laughed nervously. “I guess being married must help. You know... always having someone there.”
She tilted her head. “You mean for company, or for sex?”
My mouth opened, then closed again. “I—uh... both, I guess.”
Katherine laughed — not mocking, just amused. “That’s an honest answer. Refreshing.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I always thought grown-up relationships just had... more of that stuff figured out.”
She walked toward me slowly, still holding her glass, and leaned her hip against the table just a foot from my knee. Her bikini top was still barely containing her. Her scent — something soft and sweet — wrapped around me.
“You’d be surprised,” she said. “A lot of people just go through the motions. Some don’t even talk about what they really want.”
I swallowed. “Like what?”
Her eyes met mine. “Like what turns them on. What they wish they could ask for. What they need.”
My cheeks were burning, but I couldn’t look away.
She took another sip and smiled. “Anyway... didn’t mean to scare you off. I just like honest conversations.”
I nodded slowly, my throat dry. “Yeah. No, I like that too.”
She turned, walked back toward the sink, and I caught myself watching the muscles in her back move — the soft line of her waist dipping into wide hips. My thoughts were all over the place.
Then she said, “You know what else helps after a breakup?”
I looked up.
“Being wanted. Feeling desired again. Reminds you that you're not the problem.”
My heart jumped a little. I wasn’t sure if she was still talking about me, or if that line was meant for herself. Maybe both.
I didn’t answer. I just took a slow sip, trying to play it cool.
We talked a little longer — about college, about the heat, about her flowers dying because she forgot to water them. But the whole time, there was this current running under it all. A quiet, electric buzz that said this wasn’t just a friendly visit.
And when I finally stood up to go, she walked me to the door. Hand on my shoulder. A smile that lingered just a second too long.
“Come by anytime, Tommy. Door’s always open.”
The whole walk back to my house, I could still feel where her hand had touched me.
The lemonade tasted sweet on my tongue, but not as sweet as her voice.
And that towel? I couldn’t stop picturing how easy it’d be for it to fall.
Chapter 2:
Lemonade and Curves
It was just after noon when I finally worked up the nerve to walk over.
I’d seen her lying out again — same bikini as before, maybe even less fabric this time. The top strained to hold those tits in, and her hips curved like something out of a dream. The sunlight made her skin glow. She was lying on her stomach this time, legs slightly parted, and I’d been staring long enough to forget what day it was.
I didn’t plan on saying anything. I was just going to walk past the fence, maybe wave, maybe say hi. Instead, she turned her head, smiled, and called out to me before I even got the chance to decide.
“Tommy! You gonna walk past me all summer or you gonna come say hello?”
I stopped mid-step, hands in my pockets. “Didn’t wanna interrupt.”
“Interrupt what?” she said, sliding her sunglasses up. “I’m literally just lying here trying not to melt. Come keep me company.”
I hesitated. My heart was thudding. It wasn’t the heat.
“Come on, I don’t bite.” She grinned. “Unless you ask nicely.”
That line hit somewhere low in my stomach. I laughed, hoping she didn’t hear the way my voice cracked.
I opened the gate and stepped into her backyard. The heat hit harder here — or maybe that was just her. The scent of coconut oil and sun-warmed skin drifted in the air. I tried not to stare, but she hadn’t bothered adjusting her top when she rolled over, and those tits were half out. My eyes didn’t stand a chance.
She noticed. I know she did.
“Lemonade?” she asked, already rising from her chair.
“Yeah. That’d be nice.”
“Come in. Too hot to stand out here.” She grabbed a towel, draped it loosely around her hips, and walked toward the sliding glass door. Her ass swayed with every step, towel doing nothing to hide it. I followed like a dog chasing a steak.
Inside, her house was gorgeous. Open floor plan, spotless kitchen, cool air washing over me as I stepped in. She moved like she owned every inch of the space — graceful but unbothered, confident in a way most people only pretend to be.
“Have a seat,” she said, pouring lemonade into tall glasses. “You doing okay these days?”
“Getting there,” I said. “Breakups take time, I guess.”
She handed me a glass and leaned against the counter. No rush, no awkwardness — just Katherine being Katherine.
“Well, I meant what I said before. If you ever need anything — even just to vent — I’m around. My husband’s out of town again, so it’s just me rattling around in here.”
“Where does he go?”
“Work stuff. Conferences, client meetings. He’s in Ohio this week, I think.” She sipped her lemonade. “Comes with the job. Keeps him busy.”
“And you? Doesn’t it get boring?”
She smiled again — something about it felt different this time. Like there was a secret tucked behind it.
“Oh, I find ways to stay entertained.”
I laughed nervously. “I guess being married must help. You know... always having someone there.”
She tilted her head. “You mean for company, or for sex?”
My mouth opened, then closed again. “I—uh... both, I guess.”
Katherine laughed — not mocking, just amused. “That’s an honest answer. Refreshing.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I always thought grown-up relationships just had... more of that stuff figured out.”
She walked toward me slowly, still holding her glass, and leaned her hip against the table just a foot from my knee. Her bikini top was still barely containing her. Her scent — something soft and sweet — wrapped around me.
“You’d be surprised,” she said. “A lot of people just go through the motions. Some don’t even talk about what they really want.”
I swallowed. “Like what?”
Her eyes met mine. “Like what turns them on. What they wish they could ask for. What they need.”
My cheeks were burning, but I couldn’t look away.
She took another sip and smiled. “Anyway... didn’t mean to scare you off. I just like honest conversations.”
I nodded slowly, my throat dry. “Yeah. No, I like that too.”
She turned, walked back toward the sink, and I caught myself watching the muscles in her back move — the soft line of her waist dipping into wide hips. My thoughts were all over the place.
Then she said, “You know what else helps after a breakup?”
I looked up.
“Being wanted. Feeling desired again. Reminds you that you're not the problem.”
My heart jumped a little. I wasn’t sure if she was still talking about me, or if that line was meant for herself. Maybe both.
I didn’t answer. I just took a slow sip, trying to play it cool.
We talked a little longer — about college, about the heat, about her flowers dying because she forgot to water them. But the whole time, there was this current running under it all. A quiet, electric buzz that said this wasn’t just a friendly visit.
And when I finally stood up to go, she walked me to the door. Hand on my shoulder. A smile that lingered just a second too long.
“Come by anytime, Tommy. Door’s always open.”
The whole walk back to my house, I could still feel where her hand had touched me.
The lemonade tasted sweet on my tongue, but not as sweet as her voice.
And that towel? I couldn’t stop picturing how easy it’d be for it to fall.