Jog
You try to stay in shape. You really do. And there's no better motivation than the inevitable good shape you'll be in. Except for that beautiful ass running in front of you. Every morning at 7.00 o' clock she runs out the door and you follow as if coincidentally leaving the house at the same time. You think she's caught on to you at this point. She takes a lot of routes with plenty of corners and occasionally speeds up out of nowhere. But you don't care, her ass is what's really keeping you going.
Today she's taking a route through some back alleys. She turns and you turn after her. You expect her to keep running but instead you bump into her taking a breather. You both nearly fall down. She turns around to look at you. She looks as if she's never seen you. She asks who you are and you say your name. You also mention you live near her, only a couple of houses between yours and hers. She wonders how she doesn't recognize you. You wonder the same thing. You also realize she actually hasn't noticed you following her.
Then she pipes up with something you didn't expect at all. She asks if you want to finish the run with her. You agree to this and you both take off. You keep up with her and she's impressed, knowing she's been running for years. You say you chalk it up to good motivation. She smiles at what she thinks isn't a double entendre. You finish the run and arrive back at her house. You say thanks for the run and start walking back to your house but she insists that she offer you an after-run lunch. After all, it's vital to have a good meal after exercise. You can't say no to such an offer, can you? So you go in, she fixes you both food and you eat. You thank her for the meal. She says you're welcome and that she's going to shower. She says you can stay over if you like, you could spend more time together. She heads for the bathroom and you sit on her couch.
You hear her showering, and soon enough she comes in with a towel wrapped around her. You try your hardest to act nonchalant as she plops next to you on the couch. She sighs with content as she looks at you clearly having some trubs. She asks what's wrong and you stutter something about her attire. She looks down at herself and gasps. She apologizes and says she's sometimes a bit scatterbrained. Also not used to having a guy in her house, she says. You say it's alright and she should go change, to which she agrees. She heads to her room. You go after her in hopes of peeping in on her. You open her door ever so slightly and see her putting on a bra, followed by a T-shirt-
You lose your balance and fall on the floor. She gasps and jumps back a bit. You quickly get up and hide behind the corner, spouting apology after apology. You hear her approaching. You're certain you're going to get it. She's going to call the police, you're sure. But instead, you hear a meek call to come in her room. You ponder it over for a second and enter, seeing her with her shirt on now. She looks embarrassed and shy. She says it's alright, that she sort of expected something like this to happen. After all, she knows she's rather attractive, she says. But that's what she's working towards so you peeping on her is sort of a compliment to her. You can't believe your ears. She asks if you're going to just stand there or are you going to do something? There's a girl telling you she likes being peeped on and you're just standing there. You tell her you're not quite sure what to do at this point. She sighs and grabs you by the shirt, throwing you onto her bed. She jumps on you and tell you to take her. You oblige and tear off the shirt she had just put on. You grab her buttocks as she grinds against you. By the time you're done, you're going to be more tired than ever before, you reckoned.