Looking at him from behind, I couldn’t help but admire his body, or was it lust?... No, wait fantasize–that’s the word to describe what I do every time I see him. I would fantasize that he was ripping off my clothes and fucking me everywhere and anywhere. The bed. The floor. The table. I couldn't stop myself from having these thoughts. He was outside shirtless washing his car, his muscles flexing and relaxing every time he rubs his hand all over the hood. Christian was my next-door neighbor, my very hot new next-door neighbor who had moved to our small town two months ago. He was what I would describe...