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Interracial neighbor fantasy

I am a happily married man in my 30s, but I confess to harbor an explicit fantasy about the neighbor across the street.

I moved into the apartment across the street from the beautiful chocolate goddess I will call Sarah. The first thing that caught my eye about her was the fact that she drove a red moped. Every day, I would sit from porch and see her pull up, with her juicy, tones thighs straddling the the slightly too large seat. Sarah also has an credible ass, comparable to Lira Galore (look her up). She dressed somewhat unconventionally, also. I would almost call it dorky or else not intentional sexual or even feminine. Occasionally, though, for work or some other function, her rarely seen tight fitting outfits only added to my conviction of her flawless body. She often walks her to little dogs in sweats, but again, occasionally I’ll be lucky enough to spot her eatable behind in yoga or stretch pants, after which I regularly masturbated.

I should note here that the admiration was two-sided. Sarah often “dropped her keys” when she noticed me outside smoking. The way my chair faced, I would have to bend my neck obviously to avoid looking. She exaggerated her at-the-waist attempts to grab her keys, and always making sure her assets were best viewable from my perspective. Nothing else, though, ever. Not even formal hellos. She knew I was married as she often saw me with my wife and Sarah had a serious, muscular black boyfriend too who lived elsewhere.

After my wife and I got our own dog, I wondered if perhaps our paths might cross more directly. Sure enough, when my wife was out of town, I literally almost ran into Sarah as we rounded a hedge-covered corner of our neighborhood in opposite directions. Her dogs scared my dog, but before I could react, my dog had managed to wrap himself with his leash still in my hand tightly around Sarah’s legs, so that her gorgeous ass cinched itself right into the sweet spot of my package and hips. What a good boy my dog is 🙂 Sarah and I, both embarrassed and flustered by the immediacy of this awkward scenario, tried frantically to untangle, but instead ended up closer and closer, so that we stood spooning tightly. This unexpected realization of my half-cocked day dreams, of course, aroused me immensely. I tried to control it as much as possible, but it became clear to Sarah that my now-swollen member was growing as it rubbed uncontrollably against the cloth cover to her tight asshole. I couldn’t help it. And this all the while our dogs are barking at each other. But Sarah doesn’t immediately recoil after feeling me throb behind her. Instead, during this bizarre event, we started to slightly dry hump, an ironic turn considering our canine companions. After maybe thirty seconds, we both mutually resumed the duty of untangling ours dogs. I said sorry, and she said no problem and to have a good night. We went our separate ways almost as unremarkably as had been my walk only moments before. I came furiously at home alone afterwards.

Sarah and I never formally acknowledged to dog walk. No new hellos, nothing more than our routine of passive teasing from afar. Only one other time did I even run into her on a dog walk. My wife and I moved last month to a new town, and now I miss those moments in my day that Sarah provided, and I still cum to our fleeting moment.

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