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.
