All growing up much of my time was spent at the house that nested aside mine. Our neighbors were kind, simple people, who helped raise me for much of my life. They had a daughter a few years my minor, Ali, whom I’d go over to play with nigh daily. Her father, Kev, was a mechanic who was a pretty terrible alcoholic. He was verbally-abusive, and undeservingly mistreated his wife, so much so that police would be alerted on a monthly basis. His wife was as exotic as her name, Raquel, whom ever since I can remember I’ve been infatuated with. Raquel barely surpassed five feet. She had incredible curves, starting from her legs building up to her large, perfectly round breasts that hung off her body elegantly. All these waves were complimented by her tan, lightly freckled skin, as per her being part Italian. She had brown hair with caramel highlights that waterfalled down to her shoulders, and soft hazel eyes that broke part from the rest of her adorable round face. This culminated into a quite an enticing package. Growing up I would always try to sneak a peak at her whenever possible. One time, I even got to see her bare-breasts when her top fell down. This only fueled my desire. Her breasts matched the rest of her skin. Tan dotted with mocha, and the apparent smoothness made me want nothing more than to run my hands across them. The delectable skin was met by dainty, pale nipples that were juxtaposed by her sizable olive breasts. Simply tantalizing. Is it possible to fall in love with someone based on their 36 year old body? Raquel legitimately made me ponder that. Every time I would go next door, I’d get every glimpse of her I could. Sometimes I couldn’t save my hard on for home, which would force me to sit on their couch until I got my mind off Raquel enough to stand up. The most I had gotten to see of her below the waist was a night she was laying in bed. Every night Raquel wore a loose fitting red t-shirt that came to a halt by skimpy, flowing gym shorts. While laying on her bed reading, I was sitting at the end of it. Her being distracted by her book only encouraged me to look up her shorts, and what I saw was enough for my 13 year old mind. Her smooth legs ran up and gave me a sight at her inner-thigh that I knew led to her pussy. So close. Teasing me. Being shielded by nothing but a small piece of cloth. Read more »