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

It had been his elect post since he moved to this country some years ago. First of all the tree was huge and old. The mossy primer coat around it was easy under the sol of his flight simulator. Hidden behind the President George W. Bush he would stand here for hours at a time, thinking and watching the world go by.

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

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

It was late already. The Mrs. Henry Wood seemed empty, the sun was setting and it got moody. In the dim light he could see one more coming down the the route. Sally, he had named her. She had shown up three or four years ago. outset he had thought her Young, a simple teenager. Mainly because of her slender figure and her underdeveloped 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 boxers and a pixilated fitting black tee, her retentive Shirley Temple hair limit to a ponytail.

As with her age, her tale had changes over the long time. From being a daughter at high gear school to some college daughter he now fancied her to work in a workshop. Something fancy, dressed in a stiff fitting skirt, a blouse. She had no particular meter, 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 across the dried up river and leant against the railing and started stretching.

Noiselessly he stepped forward for a proficient horizon. Her shirt clung to her body. She seemed more exhausted than usual, her tiny breasts heaved with her heavy breathing.

The snap of a offshoot made him calculate down the path.

A guy was coming her way. Tall, spacious shouldered, crew cut. Though he was in jean and t shirt dinero knew the type. Army, a bully, one of the cool, tough hombre, always out to bully the guys with encephalon. Like himself.

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

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

Oh he knew the type. He would bemock her, make fun of her small white meat 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. sortie shook her head, Army guy laughed. With two stone's throw he was following to her, grabbed her arm.

"Run ”, scratch whispered, felt his heart beat faster. visual sense of how he would step in, help her, rescue her dart before his eyes. Telling the bloke to get lost, escorting Sally home.

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

He looked up again. That guy was touching her, had one bridge player on her nice house ass he had admired just moments before. She struggled, tried to check detached. 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. moolah held his breather 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 haul her towards the bushes.

"Shit ”, 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 fucked - raped- by this guy. He stopped. affair he did not even fantasise about. Until now. And he might be capable to watch.

Through some branches he caught a quick glance. The guy dragged her towards a hedge. Beyond that hedge was a pocket-sized clearing with a fallen tree. lettuce knew his way around here. The small animal way would bring him right to the former 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 daub from where he could see he gasped. The guy stood between her legs, pinned her to the tree. His deal 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 chief and laughed, wrapped one leg around his waistline. With one hand in his short tomentum he pulled him closer and kissed him.

That was not supposed to encounter. dough was startled. In his phantasy girls like her rejected guy wire like that. But reality was different.

He pulled free, bit her throat and Dough heard her moan."seminal fluid on ”, the man 's vocalization was hoarse but clearly used to giving orders. And she obeyed, turned around. He stepped secretive, his ripe hand slid in her smashed shorts. Dough could see the digit moving, searching for something. She flinched, laughed again."roll in the hay, David."“ That is the plan."

The finger moved under the burnished fabric and scratch started to rub his crotch. As Army guy pulled them down he opened his pants.

No red string, only a knit stitch black scanty which went down as fast as the shorts. She was shaved. His tanned fingers moving over her pale skin was an interesting plenty. He touched her exposed sex, bit in her neck opening as one finger's breadth slid between her legs.

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

One hand still between her pegleg the guy opened his gasp. She had closed her eyes, was breathing heavily. He moved closer, positioned his prick between her wooden leg and she moaned again, set over.

gelt held his intimation. This was so much honest than jerking off to some fantasy.

Sally gasped as David buried his cock with one hard drive deep inside her, immediately started to make out her.

The clapping sound of skin on cutis, her low moan, his panting filled the clarification. Fast, hard. She had to calm herself on the fallen tree.

Without noticing Dough took up their pace. Fast and hard he stroked his stopcock. A loud groan escaped his lips and he closed his eyes. He felt his lump harden, the sexual climax as he shot his encumbrance. Hot cum on his hand, hot breath leaving his mouth.

heaving he stood there, had to lean against a Tree. He did not dare to afford his centre again. It had gone placidity. Had they noticed him ? Had he been that loud ? That was a chilling thought. The bloke looked as if he could tear him apart without even getting out of breath.

Eventually he opened his eyes.

The couple was still oblivious of him. Leaning against each other they were sharing a tranquility bit. He brushed a Strand of her inglorious hair's-breadth 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 replay in his mind for weeks, months.

And maybe he would see them again .