Matt The Lumberjack

He plotted Albert's next move. His friend wasn't a dumb fuck, or an idiot. He was uninspired. Funny how seeing Amanda give into her submissive inclinations lit a fire under Albert's wobbly ass. He doubted Albert would keep his chubby hands off his sister for very long. That gave Matt a week, two weeks max, with which to shape Albert into the type of take-control man Amanda was gong to need.

The moon came up long before Matt's stomach started growling. With a sigh he turned in the direction of home. He'd grown up in this area. He walked the alleys and crossed backyards so often as a kid, as a young adult and now as an older adult that the dogs in the neighborhood knew him. None of them barked. Matt took as many short cuts as he could to get home as fast as he could. He turned into the last alley before home, pushed the back gate open to the neighbor's house and crossed the expansive back yard to the slate walkway that ran between the neighbor's house and Matt's home. Just ahead of him, at the halfway point, a light flicked on. The small square of it, the angle of the light, let Matt know the source was from one of the basement windows. Matt stopped at once, his senses fully alert..

He heard the window slide open, the pipes protest for a moment, then the unmistakable near-rain sound of a shower turning on, of water hitting tiles and bathtub floor. Matt inched forward until he could clearly see into the window, but not so close as to be spotted. That's when the sliding glass door of the shower rolled back. That's when she stepped delicately one foot then the other over the edge of the bath tub. She had her back to the window. She slid the shower door shut and lifted her face into the spray of water. Her hands tangled in her curly brown hair, fingers massaging. Her pretty rosebud lips parted and the woman let out a long, sexy moan of appreciation.

The sound wrapped around Matt's spine, sank into the nerves running the crack of his ass and centered electrically in his balls. Another moan and this time the woman half turned to the windowsill and lifted a bottle down. Her firm, round globes with tiny child nipples and peachy colored areolas set a different type of hunger rumbling through his belly. The scent of peach and ginger rose on the mist escaping the bathroom window and wrapped around him, tugged at his senses.

He was so horny that he wanted to reach down and stroke the swollen cobra he'd turned into. Matt knew this was why he liked brunettes best.