Greeting my new neighbor

Three days in and the new place still smelled like cardboard. I was knee-deep in boxes when the bell rang. Opening the door, I found her—thick curves under a silk robe, tray of warm cookies in her hands. She smiled like she already knew how this would end. "Welcome to the building," she said, and stepped inside without waiting. Her hips brushed my thigh on the way past, and the scent of vanilla trailed behind her. When she set the tray down and turned, her eyes dropped straight to my crotch. Her fingers followed. One hand cupped the hard length straining against my zipper, then squeezed with intent. No hesitation. She stroked once, slow, then tugged the zipper down like she owned the moment. My cock sprang free, thick and ready, and she wrapped her fingers around it with a low hum of approval. The cookies sat untouched. Her mouth was already parting.