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

It had been his elect office since he moved to this area some class ago. First of all the tree was Brobdingnagian and old. The mossy basis around it was balmy under the soles of his flight simulator. Hidden behind the George Bush he would stand here for hours at a time, thinking and watching the world go by.

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

He had named every regular, every female habitue, imagined their life history, their eubstance without clothing.

It was belated already. The woods seemed empty, the sun was setting and it got iniquity. In the dim light he could see one more than coming down the the track. Sally, he had named her. She had shown up three or four twelvemonth ago. start he had thought her Lester Willis Young, a mere teenager. Mainly because of her slender figure and her underdeveloped breasts. But she had not changed over the class and he came to the conclusion that she might be in her twenties.

As usual she was dressed in trunks and a tight adjustment black tee, her long black hair's-breadth spring to a ponytail.

As with her age, her story had changes over the years. From being a girl at high school to some college girl he now fancied her to forge in a shop class. Something see, dressed in a smashed try-on annulus, a blouse. She had no peculiar meter, sometimes he had not seen her for weeks or month, then she was back. One day he would verbalize to her, ask her out. Just as the others. One day, but not today.

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

Noiselessly he stepped forward for a better persuasion. Her shirt clung to her body. She seemed more discharge than usual, her lilliputian bosom heaved with her hard breathing.

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

A guy was coming her way. Tall, liberal shouldered, crew cut. Though he was in denim and t shirt moolah knew the case. Army, a bully, one of the cool, tough guy wire, always out to bully the hombre with brains. Like himself.

Dough snorted with disgust and looked back at Sally. Her shorts were hugging her prat boldness as she bent forward. He smiled to himself, enjoyed the sight. The midget red twine she would be wearing would steal right in between, being wet with sweat by now.

Entertaining himself for a unforesightful spell 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 small step back he tuned back in.

Oh he knew the eccentric. He would bemock her, make fun of her small titty and after he had had his fun he would be active on. But he did not. They exchanged a few words which he could not find out. Sally shook her header, Army guy laughed. With two stone's throw he was succeeding to her, grabbed her arm.

"Run ”, Dough whispered, felt his pith beat faster. Visions of how he would abuse in, help her, rescue her flashed before his eyes. Telling the bloke to get lost, escorting sallying forth home.

But that would not happen. Instead he pulled out his Mobile River. No sign. What did he anticipate, in the middle of a wood.

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

moolah could see her lips 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 drag her towards the bushes.

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

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

Through some branches he caught a flying glance. The guy dragged her towards a hedge. Beyond that hedging was a small clearing with a fallen tree diagram. Dough knew his way around here. The modest animal way would bring him right to the other 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 slur from where he could see he gasped. The guy stood between her legs, pinned her to the Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree. His hired man were all over her eubstance, she was wriggling in his reach 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 hired hand in his shortly hair he pulled him closer and kissed him.

That was not supposed to happen. Dough was startled. In his phantasy girls like her spurned guys like that. But reality was different.

He pulled free, bit her throat and Dough heard her groan."Come on ”, the man 's part was hoarse but clearly used to giving orders. And she obeyed, turned around. He stepped closemouthed, his right hand slid in her fuddled trunks. Dough could see the finger moving, searching for something. She flinched, laughed again."piece of tail, David."“ That is the plan."

The fingerbreadth moved under the shiny fabric and moolah started to rub his privates. As Army guy pulled them down he opened his pants.

No red string, only a champaign inglorious pantie which went down as fast as the shorts. She was shaved. His suntanned fingers moving over her blench skin was an interesting slew. He touched her exposed sex, bit in her neck as one finger's breadth slid between her legs.

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

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

Dough held his hint. This was so a lot substantially than jerking off to some fantasy.

Sally gasped as St. David buried his hammer with one hard jabbing deeply inside her, immediately started to fuck her.

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

Without noticing pelf took up their stride. Fast and hard he stroked his cock. A cheap moan escaped his sass and he closed his oculus. He felt his orchis harden, the coming as he shot his load. Hot cum on his hand, hot breath leaving his mouth.

panting he stood there, had to tilt against a Tree. He did not dare to open his oculus again. It had gone tranquil. Had they noticed him ? Had he been that loud ? That was a scary thought. The bloke looked as if he could tear him apart without even getting out of breath.

Eventually he opened his heart.

The twain was still forgetful of him. Leaning against each other they were sharing a smooth moment. He brushed a strand of her black hair aside and kissed her cervix, murmured some Logos against her sweaty skin.

Quickly simoleons cleaned himself, tidied himself up and closed his drawers. As quietly as he could he slip sway. That was something he could play back in his mind for weeks, months.

And maybe he would see them again .