It was that time of the morning. Tracy was going to do her yoga routine, which she did for about 25 minutes three times a week, and she laid her mat out in her sun room. Brad was ready, and had positioned himself at his upstairs bedroom window. He had a clear view of his next-door neighbor’s exercise, and he intended to enjoy it as he always did. He leant against his bed post, where he was sure he could not be seen if she looked up, and opened his robe. Brad’s cock was already hardening in anticipation.
Tracy never disappointed. She methodically went through her routine, stretching and posing, and Brad masturbated. He was pleased that the weather had gotten warmer, and Tracy was wearing only a sports bra and light shorts, although she was an alluring sight even in winter, wearing close-fitting yoga pants that showed off her glorious little ass.
Brad, of course, was naked under his robe, and he ran his hand over his hefty form as he stroked his cock. He was fairly proud of his six-foot body, which was in decent shape for a man in his fifties. Once he had been athletic and barrel-chested; he was still barrel-chested, but carried more weight around his middle. His substantial cock was just above average length but quite thick, and he kept his pubic hair trimmed short.
Unfortunately, Brad could rarely last all the way through Tracy’s routine. Her legs were slightly parted and her ass was jutting up, and he stroked, and stroked, and shot off a heavy load of cum. It filled the paper towel he had waiting for it. He let out a groan of pleasure, and he was glad she couldn’t hear. Brad would have loved to fuck her but he didn’t see how that could happen.
Tracy, her husband, and their two kids had moved in a couple of years ago, and a couple of days after their arrival Brad had encountered her while she was loading their minivan. She noticed him as he went to his own car and immediately came over to introduce herself.
“Hi!” she said with a guileless grin. “We’re your new neighbors! I’m Tracy—well, it’s Teresa, but I always go by Tracy—and my husband’s Matt.”
“I’m Brad,” he said, shaking her hand. He was struck by how pretty she was, in an unpretentious way. She was small, perhaps five-foot-two, and slim, with lively movements and an impish, elfin sort of face. Her golden-brown hair was shoulder-length and looked to be undyed. Brad fell half in love with her on the spot.
Tracy and Matt were in their late thirties, with kids in elementary school. He worked in the tech industry and traveled quite a bit; she was a consultant and worked from home part of the time. Brad explained that he was semi-retired and also worked from home.
“Oh, so maybe I’ll see a lot of you,” she said. “Is there a Mrs. Brad?”
“There was, but we went our separate ways.”
“Not really. I don’t think I’m much of a catch.”
Tracy smiled. “I don’t know, you might be just what rings some girls’ chimes.”
“If you say so.”
As time went on, Brad did see a lot of Tracy, though usually just in coming and going around the house. She and Matt appeared to be a happy couple, and Brad would observe them on Sundays as they and the kids headed off to Mass.
Tracy occasionally invited him to gatherings at their home or came up to chat when he was in the yard. She was invariably friendly and proved herself to be a “toucher,” always patting his hand or playfully taking his arm.
“It’s so nice having an older guy friend, Brad,” she said more than once. “Not that you’re old, not at all. But more mature, I guess. And you’re so really, really sweet. You need to find a gal to settle down with.”
“We’ll see,” he would say.
At one barbecue in their backyard, Brad noticed that she glanced at him frequently even when she was talking to someone else, and she later insisted on dancing with him when Matt put on the stereo later in the evening. Tracy had drunk several glasses of wine by that point, and Brad found himself almost uncomfortable in trying to hide his hard-on in such close quarters.
Later, as he lay on his bed naked jerking himself off, he thought he could hear Matt and Tracy quarrelling. The sound carried across the short distance between their properties, which were only partly divided by a low fence and a few short bushes. Brad breathed deeply, and brought himself to a heavy orgasm.
It was only by chance that Brad discovered Tracy’s yoga practice, and at first he only watched, transfixed by her athletic beauty. Her habits were regular, and he came to know exactly what time of the morning, and what days, Tracy would appear in the sun room at the back of their house. There were no curtains and he always had an excellent view, though he sometimes wondered if she realized that he could see her. When she had finished she would run her hands over her body in a light caressing motion and seemed to be sighing. More than once she cradled her breasts, then slipped a hand down the front of her shorts, before quickly rising and leaving the room.
By that time Brad would have finished his own exercise in self-pleasure, indulging himself fully in lust for his neighbor and her cute soccer-mom body.
Eventually, Brad noticed that Matt seemed to be around less than he had been previously. He carefully mentioned it when he ran into Tracy in passing one afternoon.
“Yeah,” she said slowly. “He’s ... been doing more work out of town. It’s what you have to do for business, I guess. I keep busy with the kids and my own work.”
“Let me know if there’s anything you need help with.”
Tracy smiled. “Thanks, Brad. You’re always such a sweetie.”
After that, Tracy seemed to leave the curtains open and the lights on in her bedroom frequently. Brad had a partial view into the bedroom, and more than once observed that she took her time in dressing and undressing. It was not an overt display, and he couldn’t see a great deal, but he definitely watched. And he would lust, and he would masturbate for Tracy.
One of Brad’s main forms of exercise was to take long, brisk walks along a trail in a nearby park. It was nearly summer, and the day was warm, and he strode along just loose shorts (with nothing underneath, for comfort) and an old button-front sport shirt. After a while he decided to let the air in and unbuttoned his shirt, letting it flap around him as he walked, drying the sweat on his upper body.
A woman jogged past him and he noticed that it was Tracy. She obviously noticed him as well, because she stopped and trotted back, smiling broadly. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore a sports bra top with loose high-cut shorts that showed off her toned thighs to good advantage. Brad tried to stop himself staring at her legs, which he found incredibly attractive. They were sturdy but very shapely, her calves with a hint of thickness around the ankles that always aroused him.
“Hey, Brad!” she said. “So nice to run into you! Do you usually walk around this time?”
“Sometimes. It varies. I go with how the spirit moves me.”
Tracy laughed. “Cool. I like to get a good run in a few times a week.”
“Walking’s more my style.”
She grinned. “That’s good too.” He found himself looking at the perspiration showing at the vee of her bra top, and shifted his eyes away from her small, perfect breasts.
“Well, I need to finish my run,” she said. “I’ll look for you whenever I’m out here.” She reached to stroke his arm, still smiling. Her hand lingered longer than it needed to, and she affectionately patted his bare chest, ruffling his chest hair. Her eyes darted down for a second, then back up to meet his. She turned to run off, glancing back and blowing him a kiss.
Brad watched her perfect little ass as she bounced on down the trail, catching his breath. Then he realized that he had a massive erection that was clearly poking out the front of his shorts. That must have been what Tracy was looking at. Judging by her reaction, she liked what she saw. Just as well, because he couldn’t help getting hard when she was that close.
Brad almost thought about ducking behind a tree to beat off and relieve his balls but deemed that too chancy. He got home as fast as he could, stripped off, and jerked his cock to a joyful cum thinking of Tracy’s ass.
By the end of June, Brad realized that he had not seen Matt’s car in his neighbors’ driveway for some time. He was getting his mail, and Tracy called to him and asked if he’d like to come in for coffee.
“Sure,” he said, and soon was seated in their kitchen. Tracy was making small talk, but acted like something was on her mind. Finally, Brad asked if Matt was doing okay.
“Yeah. I guess. We’re ... we’re taking a sort of break, Brad. Matt isn’t living here right now. Sorry. Not sure how to say it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope things work out. Let me know if I can do anything.”
Tracy gave a pained grin. “Thanks, Brad. You’re always ... always so great.”
A couple of weeks later, on a sunny afternoon, Brad was checking things in his yard. Because of the heat he wore only old, roomy shorts and sandals. He thought he heard music playing at low volume from Tracy’s backyard, and he called out, “Hello?”
There was a rustle from beyond the fence, and Tracy answered, “Hey, Brad! Come on over.”
Brad entered the yard and saw Tracy reclining on a chaise lounge near the corner of the house, in a nook by the entrance to the sun room. She was sunbathing, and as Brad approached she was hurriedly pulling her bikini top across her breasts. Tracy smirked.
“Sorry, Brad. You caught me. Hope I’m not embarrassing you.”