It was a bright early summers evening when I first saw her. I was cycling along a path, popular with cyclists and joggers alike, through some woods just outside of town. As I climbed slowly to the top of a brief, but steep, hill, she came jogging over the brow towards me, the sun behind her.
At first I was blinded by the sun, so I couldn't see her very well, but as she got closer, I could see somebody .... a woman .... a young woman .... a sexy young woman .... a stunning young woman.
I just caught a fleeting look at her as we passed each other, and then she was gone. I turned and glanced back, my bike wobbling as I looked at her slender back, at her taut ass in her black shorts, at her long, blonde pony tail bobbing up and down as she ran. I whistled softly to myself, shaking my head.
I rode on for a few more miles, not really intending to go too far, and then headed back down the same path, and back to town. I couldn't believe it when I saw her coming towards me again, perhaps making her way back to one of the villages close by. This time the sun was behind me, so I could see her more clearly. I slowed down, my eyes drawn to her.
She was dressed all in black. Her hair was held back by a black ribbon, her firm, rounded breasts, hidden behind a black vest top that clung to her, her ass and legs covered by tight, Lycra shorts that reached down her thighs. I could just make out the line of her panties and sports bra beneath her clothes.
Her face was very pretty, almost serene, her lips full and kissable. Her eyes, as she looked at me as I passed her, were a deep blue. Her arms and face, her shoulders and legs, were suntanned, her skin glistening softly, a thin sheen of perspiration along her top lip. She smiled as she passed me, an almost shy smile that lit up her face. I guessed she was about my age, twenty eight, but looked younger.
And then she was gone. I glanced back again, but only caught a glimpse of her ass rocking from side to side as she rounded a corner and dropped out of sight.
That had been on a Tuesday. For the next few days, I couldn't get her out of my mind. So, after work on Friday, I set off along the same path again, at about the same time, hoping to see her again but totally unsure of what I might do if I did. I just knew that I had to see her.
And I did.
It was about the same place on the path, but I almost missed her as she came over the hill as I reached the top, looking less that elegant as I struggled up the slope. She glanced across at me, and then disappeared down the hill before I could even muster my thoughts. But half an hour later, as I headed home, there she was again. I slowed down, flashing her what I hoped was my most friendly smile, and was instantly rewarded with a flash of her small, white, even teeth as she smiled back.
I thought about her and little else over the weekend, and on Monday at work. By the time I finished work, I couldn't wait to get home, change, and head out on my bike. My heart was thumping as I headed into the woods – would she be there, would she see me, would she recognise me?
And then she was there again, smiling that smile as she jogged past, my eyes drawn to her face, then down to the soft movement of her breasts. I looked back when she was past me, my eyes locked on her gorgeous ass.
On the way back down the hill, the same happened again – except as I turned, she did as well, smiling a laughing, knowing smile at me, knowing exactly where I was looking, and giving me a little wave.
The next day I was back again – and so was she. After that, we "met" almost everyday. Our smiles and waves became friendlier, our looks more open. We exchanged "Hi's" and "Hello's", a brooding desire developing – at least in my mind. But nothing else happened. Each time I saw her, my heart thumped and my cock rose up - and my mouth went totally dry as my shyness rose to the surface.
And then, on a Monday, she wasn't there. I rode up through the woods as normal, expecting to see her, but met no one. I rode back down slowly, hoping that she was just later than normal. But there was no sight of her – either then, or for the next few days. I cursed myself for my shyness, for not speaking to her sooner, for the lost opportunity of meeting her properly, of – well who knows what?
I was due to go on holiday with some mates at the end of the week, and in a way it was a relief. It might at least take my mind off of her. Stupidly, it was only then that I thought that she might be on holiday as well. My heart leapt – yes, that would explain it!
Usually, two weeks in the sun flies by, but this time it dragged. The day after I got back, I headed out on my bike after work, anxious to see her again. As I headed for the woods, all the old doubts came back. What if she hadn't been on holiday? What if she had moved, or jogged somewhere else now, or was avoiding me, or ........ the thoughts just clattered through my head.
And then, for the first time in three weeks, I saw her.
She was dressed as usual in black, but her tan was deeper, fresher – and her smile beamed out as soon as she saw me. In a moment she was past me, waving back as I turned to wave to her, to look at her.
On the way back, she stopped as soon as she saw me, standing with her hands on her hips, her chest rising and falling as she breathed. I slowed down and stopped, suddenly as tongue tied as ever.
"Hi," was all I could say, my eyes drawn to the rising of her breasts, to the perfect outline of her nipples through her top.
"Hi," she smiled back, and then jogged off again.
I turned and watched her go. She turned as well, running backwards for a few steps as she waved. I saw her lips move, just as I caught her words on the breeze.
"See you tomorrow ...."
And then she was gone. I rode on, a stupid grin across my face. Suddenly, all was well with the world.
The next day, something was different, something looked different. It was her top. The vest top had gone, and she was wearing a cropped top. It was still black, but ended just under her breasts, leaving her flat, suntanned tummy bare. Her breasts looked softer, more rounded, and I realised with a start that she wasn't wearing a bra. She smiled and waved and was gone. My cock rose up, painfully hard – and stayed that way in anticipation of seeing her again on my way back.
The next day her shorts were different - still black, but shorter, and looser around her long legs. When I turned, they barely seemed to cover the bottom of her taut cheeks as she ran. She smiled that delicious, knowing smile again, and my body reacted as I'm sure she knew it would.
The next day I decided to play her game as well. I swapped my Lycra cycling shorts for a looser pair, and wore a vest instead of a tee shirt. I work out when I can, and think I look okay, especially after two weeks of getting a good tan.
On the spur of the moment, just I reached the woods, I stopped and pulled my top off. It had been a hot day, and already my chest was glistening with a thin sheen of perspiration.
She grinned when she saw me, and stopped in the middle of the path. Now I could feel her eyes on me, raking across my muscular chest and flat belly, down to the well developed muscles on my thighs. I reached down and pulled my drinks bottle from its holder. She had changed her top as well – it was looser now, and lower cut.
We looked at each other openly as we shared a drink. She tiled the bottle back, some of the drink dribbling out and down her chin. I watched as it dripped onto her chest, then ran slowly down between her breasts. As she leant forward to put my drinks bottle away, the edge of her top fell loosely downwards, and I almost groaned out loud as my eyes locked onto her deep, tanned cleavage. She stood up, grinned, and was gone. When we passed on the way down she called out something about "tomorrow....".
The next day was the Friday of a long Bank Holiday weekend – and I couldn't wait to see her. But as I approached the path were we met almost everyday, there was no sign of her. I slowed down, then stopped, deciding to wait around for a while. It was then that I heard a soft moan. I walked up the path a little way, pushing my bike, but couldn't see anyone – or anything.
I walked a little further, and then heard it again. I looked around. On the left, the path was edged by a row of trees, after which there were just open fields. But on the right, the trees were thicker in places, and it seemed to be there that the noise was coming from. It only because I heard the soft moan again that I spotted the gap between two trees. They were very close together, at an angle, and almost hid the entrance to a small clearing. I leant my bike against a tree, and walked past them.
She was sat facing me, her back against a fallen tree, bathed in the glittering sunlight that was filtering through the trees into the small clearing. She was reaching forward, rubbing her leg, but looked up as I approached her. She smiled weakly, apparently in pain.
"Are you okay?" I asked her, kneeling down at her side.
"Cramp, I think," she told me, sliding her hands up and down her bare calf.
My eyes dropped to her small, neat, hands, watching as they moved over her soft, tanned skin. I couldn't help myself – despite her apparent pain, my eyes roamed up her bare legs, over her smooth thighs, to the shorts that had ridden high up. Her shorts clung tightly around her mound as she leant forward, her breasts swaying as she moved. I stared at her breasts, at her deep cleavage, at the hint of her dark, erect nipples. I looked up – and found her staring at me.
"Will you help me?" she asked, her voice a little husky.
I nodded dumbly, not daring myself to speak. She leant back again, her breasts pressing forward against her top. I knelt at her side and reached down to run my hands over her calf, leaning over her and holding her ankle with one hand while I kneaded her calf with the other.
The closeness of her, her smell, the feel of her skin against my hand, all sent messages straight to my cock. I stifled a moan, all the time becoming more and more aware of her. I rubbed her leg harder, suddenly realising that her muscles didn't feel tense at all, that there was no cramp.
