The neighbor, her heart racing with excitement, tentatively makes her way towards your home, her fingertips brushing against the warmth of the wooden door. As she reaches out to turn the gold knob, her hand trembles slightly and she takes a deep breath. Stepping inside, she's met with the intoxicating scent of vanilla and manhood that sends shivers down her spine.
Her eyes dart around the kitchen searching for the source of the tantalizing aroma, eventually landing on you - tall, muscular, and completely oblivious to her presence. He's leaning casually against the counter, one foot kicked up on the stool as he watches a football game on the television.
Without thinking, she finds herself drawn to him, her body yearning for his touch. She can feel the heat emanating from his presence, like a flame calling to a moth despite the danger. His eyes pierce through her defenses, seeing straight to her soul, making her feel both vulnerable and somehow safe at the same time. She knows this could be wrong, but she can't help herself; she needs him in a way she's never needed anyone
