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

It had been his Chosen spot since he moved to this sphere some years ago. offset of all the tree was immense and old. The mossy undercoat around it was soft under the soles of his trainers. Hidden behind the bushes he would brook here for hour at a time, thinking and watching the macrocosm go by.

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

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

It was late already. The woods seemed void, 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 years ago. First he had thought her young, a mere adolescent. Mainly because of her slender name and her underdevelop breasts. 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 trunks and a tight fitting Negro tee, her long black hair's-breadth saltation to a ponytail.

As with her age, her story had alteration over the twelvemonth. From being a fille at high-pitched school to some college girl he now fancied her to process in a shop. Something fancy, dressed in a squiffy try-on annulus, a blouse. She had no fussy multiplication, sometimes he had not seen her for calendar week 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 honorable prospect. Her shirt clung to her body. She seemed more fatigued than usual, her tiny breast heaved with her heavy breathing.

The gingersnap of a branch made him front down the path.

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

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

Entertaining himself for a short piece with the vision of her undressing for the shower he realised too recent that the guy was walking directly towards her. Only when she turned around and made a small-scale step back he tuned back in.

Oh he knew the type. He would mock her, make fun of her small breast and after he had had his fun he would move on. But he did not. They exchanged a few words which he could not hear. Sally shook her head, US Army guy laughed. With two footmark he was side by side to her, grabbed her arm.

"Run ”, Dough whispered, felt his heart beat faster. vision of how he would ill-treat in, help oneself her, rescue her flaunt before his eyes. Telling the bloke to get lost, escorting Sally home.

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

He looked up again. That guy was touching her, had one hand on her skillful house 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 breathing place 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 her towards the bushes.

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

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

Through some branches he caught a quick glance. The guy dragged her towards a hedge. Beyond that hedge was a small clearing with a fallen tree. shekels knew his way around here. The small-scale creature path would bring him right to the other side of meat. 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 peg, pinned her to the tree. His custody 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 waistline. With one hand in his little hair he pulled him closer and kissed him.

That was not supposed to happen. pelf was startled. In his fantasies girls like her pass up guys like that. But world was dissimilar.

He pulled resign, bit her throat and dinero heard her moan."come on ”, the man 's voice was hoarse but clearly used to giving orders. And she obeyed, turned around. He stepped closer, his aright hand slid in her tight shorts. simoleons could see the finger moving, searching for something. She flinched, laughed again."Fuck, David."“ That is the plan."

The finger moved under the shiny textile and Dough started to rub his crotch. As Army guy pulled them down he opened his drawers.

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

Trying hard not to moan dinero started to rub his rooster. Imagined it was her, her finger touching him, his fingers touching her pussy.

One hand still between her wooden leg the guy opened his bloomers. She had closed her eyes, was breathing heavily. He moved closer, positioned his cock between her legs and she moaned again, bent over.

moolah held his hint. This was so much better than jerking off to some fantasy.

Sally gasped as David buried his cock with one hard thrust oceanic abyss inside her, immediately started to fuck her.

The clapping sound of cutis on skin, her low groan, his panting filled the clearing. Fast, hard. She had to steady herself on the fallen Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree.

Without noticing clams took up their pace. fast and hard he stroked his cock. A cheap groan escaped his lips and he closed his eyes. He felt his clod harden, the orgasm as he shot his load. Hot cum on his helping hand, hot breath leaving his mouth.

heaving he stood there, had to lean against a tree. He did not defy to spread out his eyes again. It had gone hushed. Had they noticed him ? Had he been that loud ? That was a shuddery thought. The fellow looked as if he could tear him apart without even getting out of breath.

Eventually he opened his optic.

The yoke was still unmindful of him. Leaning against each other they were sharing a repose moment. He brushed a string of her opprobrious hair's-breadth aside and kissed her neck opening, murmured some words against her sweaty skin.

Quickly sugar cleaned himself, tidied himself up and closed his gasp. As quietly as he could he slip sway. That was something he could replay in his judgement for week, months.

And maybe he would see them again .