He was standing under his dearie tree, lost in thought- again.

It had been his elect point since he moved to this country some years ago. offset of all the Tree was huge and old. The mossy ground around it was soft under the soles of his flight simulator. Hidden behind the bushes he would remain firm here for hours at a time, thinking and watching the reality go by.

The joggers on the track below to be precise, just passing by or stopping at the rail for some light stretching.

He had named every regular, every female fixture, imagined their lives, their bodies without clothing.

It was tardy already. The woods seemed empty, the sun was setting and it got moody. In the dim light he could see one More coming down the the path. Sally, he had named her. She had shown up three or four days ago. First he had thought her young, a bare teenager. Mainly because of her slender physique and her underdeveloped chest. But she had not changed over the class and he came to the conclusion that she might be in her twenties.

As usual she was dressed in underdrawers and a soaked fitting black tee, her long black hair's-breadth leap to a ponytail.

As with her age, her story had variety over the years. From being a girl at high schoolhouse to some college female child he now fancied her to work in a shop. Something fancy, dressed in a sozzled accommodation doll, a blouse. She had no picky times, sometimes he had not seen her for hebdomad or calendar month, then she was back. One day he would tattle to her, ask her out. Just as the others. One day, but not today.

She stopped at the bridge across the dried up river and leant against the railing and started stretching.

Noiselessly he stepped forward for a best view. Her shirt clung to her body. She seemed more discharge than usual, her midget chest heaved with her overweight breathing.

The snatch of a ramification made him look down the path.

A guy was coming her way. Tall, full shouldered, gang cut. Though he was in denim and t shirt lettuce knew the type. army, a bully, one of the cool, toughie guys, always out to bully the guys with mind. Like himself.

Dough snorted with disgust and looked back at Sally. Her shorts were hugging her can cheeks as she bent forward. He smiled to himself, enjoyed the sight. The tiny red strand she would be wearing would slip right in between, being wet with effort by now.

Entertaining himself for a unretentive while with the vision of her undressing for the exhibitioner he realised too late that the guy was walking directly towards her. Only when she turned around and made a small footmark back he tuned back in.

Oh he knew the type. He would mock her, make fun of her diminished breasts and after he had had his fun he would move on. But he did not. They exchanged a few language which he could not try. Sally shook her forefront, Army guy laughed. With two stairs he was next to her, grabbed her arm.

"Run ”, Dough whispered, felt his heart meter faster. vision of how he would step in, help her, rescue her flashed before his eye. Telling the lad to get lost, escorting Sally home.

But that would not happen. Instead he pulled out his Mobile. No signal. What did he carry, in the centre of a wood.

He looked up again. That guy was touching her, had one script on her nice firm ass he had admired just moments before. She struggled, tried to part free. But he was taller than her, bulkier and he had not been running.

boodle could see her back talk moving, he just laughed again and looked around. sugar held his breath but he was well hidden in the pubic hair. No-one knew that he was hiding here.

The man grabbed her by the arm and started to trail her towards the bushes.

"Shit ”, Dough swore under his intimation. What was happening here ? He would not, would he ?

Slowly he moved, advanced to get down, encircle them. The mentation of her being bang - raped- by this guy. He stopped. Things he did not even fantasize about. Until now. And he might be able to watch.

Through some branches he caught a quick glance. The guy dragged her towards a hedge. Beyond that hedge was a humble clearing with a fallen tree. scratch knew his way around here. The small animal route would institute him right to the other slope. He could hide there, watch.

He did not even think about what he was going to see. Just getting there unseen.

As he finally reached the spot from where he could see he gasped. The guy stood between her legs, pinned her to the tree diagram. His handwriting were all over her body, she was wriggling in his grasp and trying to get away.

He had to do something.

She tossed back her head and laughed, wrapped one leg around his waist. With one hand in his scant hair he pulled him closer and kissed him.

That was not supposed to happen. lettuce was startled. In his fantasies girls like her rejected guys like that. But realness was different.

He pulled free, bit her throat and sugar heard her groan."come on ”, the man 's phonation was hoarse but clearly used to giving orders. And she obeyed, turned around. He stepped closer, his right hand slid in her slopped shortstop. gelt could see the finger moving, searching for something. She flinched, laughed again."screwing, David."“ That is the plan."

The fingers moved under the shining material and Dough started to rub his genitalia. As USA guy pulled them down he opened his drawers.

No red string, only a plain black panties which went down as fast as the drawers. She was shaved. His tanned fingers moving over her pale cutis was an interesting batch. He touched her exposed sex, bit in her neck as one finger slid between her legs.

Trying hard not to moan Dough started to rub his putz. Imagined it was her, her finger's breadth touching him, his fingers touching her pussy.

One bridge player still between her leg the guy opened his bloomers. She had closed her oculus, was breathing heavily. He moved closer, positioned his cock between her stage and she moaned again, bent grass over.

dinero held his breath. This was so much unspoilt than jerking off to some fantasy.

Sally gasped as Jacques Louis David buried his cock with one hard thrust abstruse inside her, immediately started to know her.

The clapping auditory sensation of skin on pelt, her low moan, his panting filled the glade. Fast, hard. She had to sweetheart herself on the fallen tree.

Without noticing shekels took up their pace. Fast and hard he stroked his dick. A loud moan escaped his lips and he closed his eyes. He felt his balls harden, the orgasm as he shot his load. Hot cum on his hand, hot breath leaving his mouth.

trousering he stood there, had to angle against a Tree. He did not dare to open his middle again. It had gone quiesce. Had they noticed him ? Had he been that loud ? That was a chilling persuasion. The bloke looked as if he could snap him apart without even getting out of breath.

Eventually he opened his middle.

The yoke was still forgetful of him. Leaning against each other they were sharing a quiet instant. He brushed a strand of her blackamoor fuzz aside and kissed her cervix, murmured some countersign against her sweaty skin.

Quickly dough cleaned himself, tidied himself up and closed his pants. As quietly as he could he stole sway. That was something he could play back in his mind for calendar week, months.

And maybe he would see them again .