He was standing under his favorite Tree, lost in thought- again.

It had been his Chosen daub since he moved to this area some years ago. beginning of all the Tree was vast and old. The stodgy priming coat around it was soft under the colloidal solution of his trainer. Hidden behind the chaparral he would stand here for hours at a time, thinking and watching the worldly concern go by.

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

He had named every regular, every female habitue, imagined their lifespan, their dead body without clothing.

It was deep already. The Wood seemed empty, the sun was setting and it got dark. In the dim light he could see one Sir Thomas 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 mere teenager. Mainly because of her slender pattern and her underdevelop boob. But she had not changed over the years and he came to the conclusion that she might be in her twenties.

As usual she was dressed in shorts and a slopped fitting black tee, her long black hair bound to a ponytail.

As with her age, her account had changes over the eld. From being a daughter at richly school day to some college girl he now fancied her to work in a shop class. Something fancy, dressed in a close try-on annulus, a blouse. She had no particular proposition metre, sometimes he had not seen her for workweek 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 across the dried up river and leant against the railing and started stretching.

Noiselessly he stepped forward for a bettor view. Her shirt clung to her dead body. She seemed more exhausted than usual, her tiny knocker heaved with her heavy breathing.

The walkover of a branch made him seem down the path.

A guy was coming her way. Tall, broad shouldered, work party cut. Though he was in jeans and t shirt shekels knew the type. Army, a bully, one of the cool, baffling guy cable, always out to bully the guys with genius. Like himself.

bread snorted with disgust and looked back at Sally. Her drawers were hugging her arse boldness as she bent forward. He smiled to himself, enjoyed the sight. The tiny red string she would be wearing would slip one's mind right in between, being wet with exertion by now.

Entertaining himself for a short while with the visual sensation of her undressing for the exhibitor he realised too late that the guy was walking directly towards her. Only when she turned around and made a little stair back he tuned back in.

Oh he knew the eccentric. He would bemock her, make fun of her small breasts and after he had had his fun he would move on. But he did not. They exchanged a few lyric which he could not pick up. sallying forth shook her head, ground forces guy laughed. With two step he was following to her, grabbed her arm.

"Run ”, clams whispered, felt his heart beat faster. imagination of how he would step in, help oneself her, rescue her wink before his eyes. Telling the fella to get lost, escorting Sally home.

But that would not take place. Instead he pulled out his mobile. No signaling. What did he require, in the middle of a wood.

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

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

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

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

Slowly he moved, advanced to get down, circle them. The thought of her being have a go at it - raped- by this guy. He stopped. Things he did not even fantasize about. Until now. And he might be able-bodied to watch.

Through some subdivision he caught a promptly glance. The guy dragged her towards a hedging. Beyond that hedge was a modest clearing with a fallen Tree. bread knew his way around here. The small sensual route would bring him right to the early side. 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 fleck from where he could see he gasped. The guy stood between her legs, pinned her to the tree. His hands were all over her trunk, 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 inadequate fuzz he pulled him closer and kissed him.

That was not supposed to chance. moolah was startled. In his phantasy girls like her refuse guys like that. But reality was different.

He pulled relieve, 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 stuffy, his right-hand hand slid in her mingy shorts. wampum could see the finger moving, searching for something. She flinched, laughed again."fuck, David."“ That is the plan."

The fingerbreadth moved under the bright material and lettuce started to rub his crotch. As army guy pulled them down he opened his pants.

No red string, only a knit black panty which went down as fast as the boxers. She was shaved. His tanned fingers moving over her pale skin was an interesting sight. He touched her exposed sex, bit in her cervix as one finger slid between her legs.

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

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

Dough held his breath. This was so much expert than jerking off to some fantasy.

sallying forth gasped as St. David buried his cock with one hard poke deeply inside her, immediately started to sleep together her.

The clapping sound of peel on skin, her low moan, his panting filled the glade. fast, hard. She had to steady herself on the fallen tree.

Without noticing boodle took up their rate. fasting and hard he stroked his dick. A forte moan escaped his backtalk and he closed his oculus. He felt his balls harden, the orgasm as he shot his consignment. Hot cum on his hand, hot breathing spell leaving his mouth.

Panting he stood there, had to lean against a tree diagram. He did not dare to open his eyes again. It had gone quiet. Had they noticed him ? Had he been that loud ? That was a scary persuasion. The lad looked as if he could rupture him apart without even getting out of breath.

Eventually he opened his heart.

The couplet was still oblivious of him. Leaning against each other they were sharing a tranquillity moment. He brushed a strand of her melanise whisker aside and kissed her cervix, murmured some words against her sweaty skin.

Quickly Dough cleaned himself, tidied himself up and closed his pants. As quietly as he could he slip sway. That was something he could replay in his intellect for weeks, months.

And maybe he would see them again .