Running Wild

byAftermath_day_after©

One step at the time. One foot follows the other. Running. Never stops. Meditative mileage. Every step has been taken so many times before. One step at the time.

Some people find it boring. Like hell kind of boring. I have never felt it that way. A self suggestive, totally egocentric treat; me and Mother Nature breathing together: Running.

No it is not boring. On the contrary: Exciting, arousing, passionate.

Perhaps in the fifth kilometer, maybe the sixth along the track I felt like I entered another world. Sounds of birds had suddenly vanished. Air was thick with tangible tension. Yet, it took me a minute to realize that I was not alone.

It was no real surprise - there are lots of people, some of whom I know very well, that frequent the track almost on a daily basis - but now there was something that put my senses on full alert: Concealment. Someone was hiding nearby. At first I could not tell what made me so sure; there was no sight of anyone and I could not tell any special sounds. At first.

But there it was: Vibrating rather than sounding but once recognized, impossible to not notice. A narrow path led from the main track into the woods. Only ten meters away, the vegetation thickened; trees and bushes mounted a barrier against curious passersby. But the bushes radiated passion; I was mesmerized by the brute force of the barrage I experienced from the pulsing source of pure energy. I listened and I heard the sounds of uninhibited lust.

To not sneak closer was not an alternative; never even passed my mind. I was pulled, dragged, furiously attracted by the magnetic force of the great unknown behind the bushes.

As I slipped closer, sounds became clearer. Rhythmic movements, heavy breathing - there was no doubt in my mind what private activities I was about to witness. I crept up behind a bush and looked through the leaves, standing on my knees.

Yes. I was not disappointed.

The first thing that struck me was the fire in her eyes. Almost as though she had known that I would come, as though she knew exactly when and where I would turn up, she looked right at me with eyes burning with heated arousal.

She did not seem intimidated by my appearance. On the contrary, her movements became even more agitated and she jumped up and down on top of a character lying on the ground, almost totally hidden in the deep grass. She cried out moans of pleasure while she rode the man with insane fury; her hands caressing her torso, running over her shoulders, breasts and stomach. All the time her eyes were holding mine, demanding my undivided attention. I suddenly became conscious of my erection. She smiled at me. Did she give me a quick nod or did I mistake her passionate lovemaking for an invitation to me?

I was beyond reason, aroused mad. The raw lust that shone from the woman before me captivated me and intoxicated me. Drunk on excitement - adrenalin rushed through my veins - I started to caress my own body with my hands. Shortly, both my hands were rubbing my erection through my bulging running shorts. She smiled at me. Yes. Her nod was a nod of appreciation. When I looked down I found that my shorts were halfway down to my knees and my hand gripping my swollen member tightly, moving up and down the shaft.

She wriggled elaborately on her mate, circular motions, grinding her sex against his. I was there. I could feel the heat, sense her warmth, smell her sweet scent. Elaborate exhibitionistic masturbation. I wanted her to know my passion, my infinite lust for her. Wanted my pleasure to be her pleasure. Give her of me. She smiled. She nodded. She knew.

Jerking, beating, pounding. So close. Making love in a bizarre ménage a trois - a secret within a secret: A man lying in the grass pumping his cock into the wet pussy of his lover clandestinely fucking the accidental stranger.

Was it long? I do not know. In a way, it felt like a lifetime: So many impressions - overwhelming. So wonderfully intense - timeless. But status quo is not an option for an arousal this extreme. It must be suppressed violently or allowed to explode just as violently. Of course I did not suppress it. I wanted to give myself to her, needed to release; I was desperate for us to share a common climax. Share the original orgasm.

And we did. Violently.

Her scream echoed in the forest. The sound of her voice was still ringing in my ears as I jogged slowly along the track. I met other runners. Nodded, maybe smiled at familiar faces. Would they know? Could they see it in my face that I had just mated with this divine creature of the woods? At least I had had the awareness to put my shorts back on. I smiled at familiar faces, nodded.

One step at the time. One foot follows the other. Running. Never stops. Meditative mileage. Every step has been taken so many times before. One step at the time.

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