The Jogger

I'm not much of a jogger. My main sports are crew and volleyball. Both keep me in pretty good shape for my age. So, I was a little put out when the doctor prescribed jogging after my operation, but I figured what the hell, he's supposed to know best. Oh boy, did he, but not in the way he thought!

There's an abandoned farm nearby that is a favorite of joggers who love its mostly level gravel roads through fields carved out of the woods. That seemed good to me. I bought myself a pair of jogging shorts and shoes, put on an old tee and gave it a try.

Actually, it was kind of nice. You get out there around 5:30 A.M. or so, when the mist is just rising off the fields and the birds are singing, and you jog along at a leisurely pace, taking it all in. Not bad. There are usually one or two other joggers out, and we wave to each other. Most are faster than me, but I console myself by saying that it's not my sport of choice.

Then one morning I saw her. Oh my God, she was something else! Probably in her mid-twenties, with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail that swished back and forth as she ran. She wore tight little white shorts, a red sports bra, and cute little white sneakers. The outfit did nothing to hide her fantastic body; it just accentuated her long athletic legs, her trim waist, her flat abdomen, her marvelous ass and her sweet firm young breasts that overflowed the confines of her bra. The morning I saw her she was running toward me and I almost tripped over my own feet and fell on my face. Somehow I recovered, and she smiled knowingly at me. After she passed, I stopped and turned to watch her ass sway as her tan legs scissored down the path. At one point she stopped and turned to look at me. I quickly turned and pretended to go on jogging. I could feel her smile behind me.

The next day she wasn't there.

In the days that followed I couldn't get her out of my mind. I kept seeing that magnificent body. My hands itched to fondle those beautiful breasts. I could vividly imaging cupping her ass, pulling her to me as I penetrated her. Or her, kneeling before me, her coral lips glistening, open and inviting my pulsing cock into her warm mouth, taking and swallowing my hot load. Some nights she was in my dreams, her long powerful legs wrapped around me as I drove my cock into her tight little pussy. Other nights she was on her back, my tongue deep in her vagina, tasting her and smelling her musky arousal while she writhed and moaned. More than once I woke up with an aching hard-on and wet splotches on the sheets. I was obsessed.

I varied my timing in the mornings until I found her usual time. Instead of jogging I walked, so that when she approached, I'd have more time to revel in the sight of her. I began, for the first time in my life, to entertain thoughts of rape. Hell, her body was clearly made for sex. It followed, then, that my desire for her was natural and legitimate. How could she not share the bounty of that body with me? Who was she to deny what I so desperately needed? Her in her scanty outfit! Surely she knew the effect she had on me. I deserved to take my pleasure in her warm soft body whether she was willing or not.

Good lord, I was beginning to sound like some Taliban nut! Amazing the rationales you can come up with when you're thinking with your cock.

Finally, I could stand it no longer. To hell with rationalization. I had to have her. I got to the farm early, well before her usual time. I dressed in loose, easily removed shorts, no underwear, and a tee. Knowing what I was planning, my conscience began to nag at me, but I drowned it out with thoughts of her lying on the ground moaning as I came into her, shouting my victory even as I filled her with my sperm.

After an agony of waiting, she showed up. I remained hidden in my car until she left. God, she looked so good! And soon all that female bounty would be mine. I gave her about five minutes or so to get into the more wooded areas of the farm. Looking around I saw no other people. With a last whack on my conscience to stifle it, I started after her.

In a mile or so the path entered the woods and took a sharp turn to the right. I sped up so as to catch up to her before the woods ended. I rounded the corner and almost fell over myself trying to stop. There she stood, in the middle of the path, facing me, arms akimbo, head cocked to one side, her breasts rising and falling with her breath. She was smiling sardonically.

"Christ," she said, "It took you long enough to make your move. I was about to give up on you."

I just stared, open mouthed.

With that she laughed and took off her bra and threw it at me. She cupped her breasts with her hands. She looked down at her breasts and then directly at me.

"You wanna get your hands on these puppies, tiger," she said, "you're gonna have to work for it."

With that she darted off into the woods, but not before I had gotten a glimpse of her naked breasts. They were just as big, youthful, and beautifully formed as I had so often fantasized. Just a flash, and they were gone, only the memory of their perfection and the echo of her laugh. I snatched up the warm bra, took a quick sniff of it and dashed off after her.

God, she was fast. She ran deer-like, gracefully dancing over roots, narrowly avoiding trees. I felt so clumsy in pursuit, but I didn't care. My mind had room for only one thought. My all-consuming desire for her body seemed to drive my legs, and I ran as I had never run before. She was quick, but I was quicker. Or maybe she wasn't in as much of a rush as I thought.

I would draw close to her, close enough to watch her ass swaying in the tight shorts, her sweet ponytail swishing from white shoulder to white shoulder, but then she'd put on a burst of speed and be out of my hungry grasp. My frustration fueled my desire, and I decided to risk it all on one last gamble. When I got close enough, I launched myself at her legs, my arms outstretched.

It worked! I wrapped my arms desperately around her strong legs and held on for all I was worth. She pitched forward in mid-stride. To protect her I twisted around so that I came down on my back and she landed on top of me, her ass pressing against my face. I knew that my back was badly scratched and that I would have serious bruises, but I didn't care. The prize was mine, and it was worth it.

I rolled over. She fell off me and landed on her back. She was panting from her run, but smiling at me. Her naked breasts rose and fell enticingly with her breathing. In a second, I was straddling her, my weight pinning her hips to the ground. I reached out and grasped those spectacular globes. Oh God, they felt just as I had fantasized: so full and firm and yet soft and silky. My hands glided over the sheen of sweat on them. I caressed them, fondling them, reveling in the feel of them. My fingers grasped her nipples, tweaking them. She struggled at first, but as I stroked her, she seemed to relax; had she yielded to the inevitable?

I leaned down and took her left nipple in my mouth, sucking on it, massaging it with my tongue. I felt it grow stiff and heard a soft moan from her. She no longer resisted me. She was mine! My fantasies were coming true at last.

I stood up and dropped my shorts. My cock jumped up, hard and full of my sperm. I looked down at the helpless girl, savoring my victory. I expected her to cry out, to plead. I wanted her to see how hard and aching my cock was so that she would understand my need for her and forgive me for what I had to do to her. But instead, she looked at my distended member and just smiled.

"Oh," she said, "That's very nice. I think I'm going to enjoy this."

Again, she had amazed me. But I was beyond caring about what she wanted or thought. I needed her. If she didn't want to fight me off, so much the better. I would have my way with her regardless.

Quickly I stripped off my tattered tee shirt. I grasped her shorts and pulled them down, over her ankles and shoes and threw them aside. Her translucent nylon panties clung to her, accentuating the rise of her mound of Venus. For a second they resisted me, so I grabbed them by the crotch and ripped them, exposing her soft blonde pussy to my hungry gaze. It was beautiful!

I could not resist, then, and brought to life my fantasy by burying my face in her softness. My tongue probed deep into her vagina. My nose was full of the smell of her, a mix of perspiration and female pheromones. I licked her clit and sucked hard on it. I heard her gasp and then moan with pleasure. Oh, she was mine, now, to enjoy as I pleased. She was helpless in the grip of her arousal. I felt so powerful; I felt I could play this incredible body like an instrument, bending it to my will.

I continued to suck on her, tasting now the juices of her arousal. I put my hands under her thighs and lifted them, spreading her legs to give me greater access to her sweet treasures. She offered no resistance. Her hips began to rise and fall, pushing her pussy against my face, rubbing herself against me.

I wanted this to go on forever, to feel her cum under my ministrations, but my cock was painfully erect. I had to discharge my load into her before it exploded uselessly on the ground.

I rose to my knees. I looked down at my victim. She lay there, her eyes closed, unresisting, legs enticingly spread, mine to do with as I pleased. Again I grasped those lovely breasts, using them to steady myself as I brought my stiff cock to the threshold of her vagina, its lips wet with my saliva and her own juices. I moaned as I thrust into her. Oh, the feel of those soft lips parting as my cockhead spread them and entered her! She gasped, a delicate "Oh" of surprise.

Unable to stop, now, even had I wanted to, I drove deep into her. Her warm vagina felt so welcoming. It enveloped my cock. Her muscular perineum floor raised up and embraced it with an insistent grasp. I slid into her until my groin pressed up against hers. I let go of her breasts and grasped her hips, helping her to rise up as I drove into her. I pumped her several times until I could stand it no more, and with a heart-felt groan released my compressed passion into her as deeply as I could go. Again and again I spurted, listening with gratification to her moans as she felt my hot sperm shoot into her warm welcoming depths. I had done it!! I reveled in my release, feeling each throb of my cock inside her along with the distention of the tip as bolus after bolus of my semen burst forth into her deep recesses. Each was accompanied by a soul-shattering sense of release, driving me to higher and higher peaks of passion.

All too soon my reserves were depleted. Even then I continued to pump her just because it felt so good. I wanted never to stop. But eventually I let out a long sigh and relaxed, collapsing onto her, feeling the soft pressure of her breasts against my naked chest. Slowly I withdrew my deflating cock. It slid out so easily from her saturated vagina. Her wet, sperm-coated vaginal lips seemed to clasp it even as I withdrew as if unwilling to let me leave. I could feel the suction draw out of me the last few precious pearly drops of my gift.

For a long moment I rested my head between the soft mounds of her breasts, listening to her heart. Then I rose up and looked down at my helpless victim, my conscience already beginning to attack me as my passion subsided. But she was smiling up at me with a look of deep satisfaction on her glistening face.

"Well," she said, "That was nice. A lot better than I expected. We want to thank you."

Had she just said 'we'?? And 'thanks'??

I must have looked as puzzled as I felt. She smiled. "You poor dumb fuck," she said. "What do you think just happened?"

"I fucked you, that's what," I said, beginning to get more annoyed than puzzled at her attitude. I had expected anger, at the least, or maybe disgust. Not condescension.

"Yes," she said. "You did. And it was ok. Good, even. But mainly, you were just a sperm donor for me. You see, my wife and I decided a while ago to have a baby, and I volunteered to be the one to get pregnant. But I didn't want some anonymous sperm donor, and while fucking guys is not my favorite activity, I do, as you've no doubt seen, get some enjoyment out of it. I wanted to choose a donor who was in good shape. And I read that you get the best sperm from the guy when he's physically active. That's you. Nice chase, by the way. You really worked me."

"You used me?" I said wonderingly.

"Sure. Like you didn't use me at the same time? Admit it, you got what you wanted out of me just like I got what I wanted out of you. So we're even. Now, if you don't mind, I have to lie quietly for twenty minutes to make sure your sperm does its job.

"Oh, and If you're done with it, I'd really like my bra back."