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

It had been his chosen spot since he moved to this area some years ago. get-go of all the tree was vast and old. The mossy ground around it was easy under the soles of his trainers. Hidden behind the bushes he would abide here for hours at a time, thinking and watching the populace go by.

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

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

It was late already. The woods seemed empty, the sun was setting and it got obscure. 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 years ago. low gear he had thought her Danton True Young, a mere teenager. Mainly because of her slender figure and her underdeveloped chest. But she had not changed over the twelvemonth and he came to the stopping point that she might be in her twenties.

As common she was dressed in boxershorts and a pixilated fitting fateful tee, her long Black person hair saltation to a ponytail.

As with her age, her story had changes over the years. From being a girl at luxuriously school to some college girl he now fancied her to work in a shop. Something phantasy, dressed in a tight fitting skirt, a blouse. She had no particular times, sometimes he had not seen her for weeks or calendar month, then she was back. One day he would lecture 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 better panorama. Her shirt clung to her consistence. She seemed more run through than usual, her tiny breasts heaved with her large breathing.

The picnic of a arm made him look down the path.

A guy was coming her way. Tall, broad shouldered, work party cut. Though he was in dungaree and t shirt Dough knew the eccentric. ground forces, a bully, one of the sang-froid, tough hombre, always out to bully the guy cable with brains. Like himself.

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

Entertaining himself for a unretentive piece with the vision of her undressing for the shower he realised too late that the guy was walking directly towards her. Only when she turned around and made a minor dance step back he tuned back in.

Oh he knew the eccentric. He would mock her, make fun of her small breasts and after he had had his fun he would locomote on. But he did not. They exchanged a few words which he could not hear. crack shook her promontory, U. S. Army guy laughed. With two steps he was next to her, grabbed her arm.

"Run ”, dinero whispered, felt his spunk beat faster. visual sense of how he would step in, aid her, rescue her flashed before his eyes. Telling the chap to get lost, escorting wisecrack home.

But that would not chance. Instead he pulled out his mobile. No sign. What did he ask, in the center of a wood.

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

kale could see her sass moving, he just laughed again and looked around. Dough held his breath 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 dredge 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 cerebration of her being fucked - raped- by this guy. He stopped. matter he did not even fantasise about. Until now. And he might be able-bodied to watch.

Through some arm he caught a fast glance. The guy dragged her towards a hedge. Beyond that hedgerow was a small clearing with a fallen tree. lucre knew his way around here. The small animal path would contribute him right to the former side. He could enshroud 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 wooden leg, pinned her to the tree. His deal were all over her soundbox, she was wriggling in his clasp and trying to get away.

He had to do something.

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

That was not supposed to happen. lucre was startled. In his fantasies girls like her rejected guy wire like that. But reality was unlike.

He pulled free, bit her pharynx and gelt heard her moan."cum on ”, the man 's voice was hoarse but clearly used to giving orders. And she obeyed, turned around. He stepped nigh, his rectify bridge player slid in her tight shorts. lucre could see the finger's breadth moving, searching for something. She flinched, laughed again."Fuck, David."“ That is the plan."

The digit moved under the shiny fabric and Dough started to rub his private parts. As regular army guy pulled them down he opened his pants.

No red strand, only a plain black step-in which went down as fast as the shorts. She was shaved. His tanned fingers moving over her pale skin was an interesting slew. He touched her exposed sex, bit in her neck opening as one finger slid between her legs.

Trying hard not to moan moolah started to rub his cock. Imagined it was her, her fingerbreadth touching him, his finger touching her pussy.

One hired hand still between her stage the guy opened his knickers. She had closed her eyes, was breathing heavily. He moved closer, positioned his tool between her pegleg and she moaned again, bent over.

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

Sally gasped as David buried his hammer with one hard thrust cryptic inside her, immediately started to get it on her.

The clapping phone of skin on tegument, her low moans, his panting filled the clearing. Fast, hard. She had to steadfast herself on the fallen Tree.

Without noticing Dough took up their pace. fasting and hard he stroked his cock. A tacky moan escaped his backtalk and he closed his eyes. He felt his bollock harden, the orgasm as he shot his lode. Hot cum on his paw, hot breath leaving his mouth.

Panting he stood there, had to slant against a tree. He did not defy to spread his eyes again. It had gone placid. Had they noticed him ? Had he been that loud ? That was a scary thought. The fella looked as if he could buck him apart without even getting out of breath.

Eventually he opened his eyes.

The yoke was still oblivious of him. Leaning against each other they were sharing a tranquillity import. He brushed a strand of her black tomentum aside and kissed her neck opening, murmured some words against her sweaty skin.

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

And maybe he would see them again .