It's Wednesday. Laundry day. I watch my neighbor from my kitchen window, hanging her laundry to dry in the early morning sunshine: sheets and towels, dresses… her panties. She hangs those up all in a row, always on the line furthest from the house, at the back of her yard, always last.

I take one last sip and put my coffee cup in the sink, my half-hard dick pressing against the edge of the counter.

A car door slams, an engine roars. I'm out the back door and over the fence before I even realize.

I weave through the labyrinth of bright linen and gauze until I find pink cotton and white lace. I'm totally hard now. I reach up and remove a pair of panties from the line and inhale their scent. My other hand stokes my cock over my jeans. In my mind she's wearing these and I'm kneeling before her, inhaling her scent. My tongue laps at the soft cotton over her clit.

I press and stroke harder, harder still, and groan.

I come.

A gasp and I turn to creamy skin and hair haloed in sunshine.

"Edward?"

"Bella. I…"