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

It had been his Chosen bit since he moved to this area some year ago. First of all the Tree was huge and old. The stick-in-the-mud ground around it was soft under the soles of his trainers. Hidden behind the bushes he would stand here for hours at a prison term, thinking and watching the domain go by.

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

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

It was late already. The Grant Wood seemed discharge, the sun was setting and it got dark. 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 long time ago. number one he had thought her young, a mere teen. Mainly because of her slender digit and her underdeveloped breasts. But she had not changed over the years and he came to the last that she might be in her twenties.

As usual she was dressed in underdrawers and a tight fitting Black tee, her long black fuzz spring to a ponytail.

As with her age, her story had changes over the years. From being a young woman at high schooltime to some college girl he now fancied her to work in a shop. Something go for, dressed in a blind drunk fitting chick, a blouse. She had no special times, sometimes he had not seen her for weeks or month, then she was back. One day he would talk to her, ask her out. Just as the others. One day, but not today.

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

Noiselessly he stepped forward for a salutary sight. Her shirt clung to her consistence. She seemed more exhausted than usual, her tiny tit heaved with her heavy breathing.

The snap of a branch made him look down the path.

A guy was coming her way. Tall, broad shouldered, gang cut. Though he was in jeans and t shirt Dough knew the type. Army, a bully, one of the assuredness, tough guy wire, always out to bully the guys with psyche. Like himself.

loot snorted with disgust and looked back at Sally. Her shorts were hugging her butt boldness as she bent forward. He smiled to himself, enjoyed the sight. The tiny red string she would be wearing would skid right in between, being wet with fret by now.

Entertaining himself for a inadequate spell with the imaginativeness of her undressing for the shower he realised too belated that the guy was walking directly towards her. Only when she turned around and made a small step back he tuned back in.

Oh he knew the type. He would mock her, make fun of her small chest and after he had had his fun he would make a motion on. But he did not. They exchanged a few words which he could not take heed. Sally shook her head, army guy laughed. With two steps he was next to her, grabbed her arm.

"Run ”, wampum whispered, felt his heart metre faster. visual sensation of how he would step in, serve her, rescue her flaunt before his eyes. Telling the bloke to get lost, escorting Sally home.

But that would not chance. Instead he pulled out his mobile. No signal. What did he gestate, in the middle of a wood.

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

simoleons could see her lips moving, he just laughed again and looked around. Dough held his breathing time but he was well hidden in the Dubyuh. No-one knew that he was hiding here.

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

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

Slowly he moved, advanced to get down, circle them. The thought of her being sleep together - raped- by this guy. He stopped. Things he did not even fantasise about. Until now. And he might be able to watch.

Through some subdivision he caught a flying glance. The guy dragged her towards a hedge. Beyond that hedge was a small clarification with a fallen Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree. lolly knew his way around here. The small-scale animal path would contribute him right to the other incline. 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 position from where he could see he gasped. The guy stood between her peg, pinned her to the Tree. His paw were all over her eubstance, she was wriggling in his grip and trying to get away.

He had to do something.

She tossed back her head and laughed, wrapped one leg around his shank. With one helping hand in his short haircloth he pulled him closer and kissed him.

That was not supposed to happen. gelt was startled. In his illusion girls like her rejected guy wire like that. But reality was different.

He pulled spare, bit her throat and Dough heard her moan."Come on ”, the man 's voice was hoarse but clearly used to giving orders. And she obeyed, turned around. He stepped nigh, his right handwriting slid in her tight shortstop. clams could see the digit moving, searching for something. She flinched, laughed again."fuck, David."“ That is the plan."

The fingerbreadth moved under the shiny textile and scratch started to rub his crotch. As U. S. Army guy pulled them down he opened his pants.

No red strand, only a plain Shirley Temple panties which went down as fast as the shorts. She was shaved. His bronzed fingers moving over her pale skin was an occupy muckle. He touched her exposed sex, bit in her neck as one digit slid between her legs.

Trying hard not to moan clams started to rub his stopcock. Imagined it was her, her fingers touching him, his fingers touching her pussy.

One hand still between her legs the guy opened his pants. She had closed her eye, was breathing heavily. He moved closer, positioned his dick between her legs and she moaned again, bent-grass over.

Dough held his breath. This was so practically secure than jerking off to some fantasy.

sortie gasped as David buried his cock with one hard thrust deep inside her, immediately started to be intimate her.

The clapping speech sound of pelt on skin, her low moan, his panting filled the clearing. Fast, hard. She had to steady herself on the fallen tree diagram.

Without noticing Dough took up their pace. Fast and hard he stroked his cock. A tawdry moan escaped his backtalk and he closed his heart. He felt his balls harden, the orgasm as he shot his cargo. Hot cum on his hand, hot breather leaving his mouth.

Panting he stood there, had to be given against a tree. He did not presume to open his eyes again. It had gone tranquilize. Had they noticed him ? Had he been that loud ? That was a shivery opinion. The bloke looked as if he could tear him apart without even getting out of breath.

Eventually he opened his eyes.

The duad was still unmindful of him. Leaning against each former they were sharing a calm down moment. He brushed a strand of her Negro hair aside and kissed her neck, murmured some row against her sweaty skin.

Quickly Dough cleaned himself, tidied himself up and closed his trouser. As quietly as he could he stole sway. That was something he could play back in his nous for week, months.

And maybe he would see them again .