He looks down at his feet crunching the leaves. Stomping them. Follow the path through the woods. Take the short cut for the scenic route. Beautiful day. But so cold. Just like Barbie. Time to take control of his destiny. He’s a man after all. He can’t allow her to control him anymore.
He has to stop thinking about her beautiful hair. Bright as gold. Or the swell of her breasts. Her scent. Her lips.
He can feel his blood rushing now. Just from the thought of her. That’s wrong because he can feel himself getting excited. Wrong wrong wrong, he thinks. And it’s starting to hurt. Walking. He has to get off the path. It could be embarrassing, messy. She acts as though she’s a princess and he’s a … tool that she can use. Take what she wants then cast him aside.
He was a perfect gentleman. She should appreciate him. Instead she treats him as though he is less than dirt. Will she ever think he’s good enough? Will he ever be real to her?
He stumbles off the path into the woods, feeling the rage mount with his erection. He can’t control the power. He looks around, he’s off the path, no one can see him here. He opens his pants thinking maybe if he relieves himself …
His face is wet, oh God. He’s crying over her. Stop it. It’s as though she’s cast a spell over him. He has to get her out of his head because she is messing up his mind.
He reaches down and starts rubbing himself.. He can feel the heat rising but then he flashes on the contempt in her eyes and his erection deflates with his sobs.
She made him feel so wonderful at first.
Staring down at the expression of his manhood dangling limp between his legs, he can’t believe she has done this to him. Why? It’s crazy. Couldn’t she see how good it would have been? He has got to put her out of his mind. He rubs his sleeve across his face, trying to mop up the tears that seem endless. How can he be so weak? How could he let her do this to him?
The crack of a twig behind him is as loud as a rifle shot.
Oh God no.
He freezes in horror. Maybe it’s imagination?
No.
There is someone coming. That’s bad.
Even worse is the girl voice coming through the trees, getting closer, calling out, “Are you all right?”
The idea of a woman seeing him all … all hanging out, snot running down his face … eyes red … crying. Men don’t cry. As quick as they began the tears stop now.
He doesn’t dare speak. His heart batters his chest, he hopes she will go somewhere else.
He can not be found like this. No one can see him like this, especially a woman. Quietly he moves behind the tree, leaning against the trunk to quiet his breathing. When he reaches to put himself back in his pants the erection is unaccountably back, even more insistent than before.
Maybe she’s gone. No. He hears her call out again, “Hello?” Why can’t she just leave him alone?
She should just go away. But no. Too much to hope for. He hears the leaves crunch as she pushes closer to him.
He moves farther back, working his way around some bushes. And now the erection won’t go down. It seems to have a life of its own, sticking out in front of him like a lance. He can’t. It just won’t fit into his pants like this … what is that damned woman doing … he can’t hear her.
Crouching behind the bushes he discovers a handy tree stump, and he sinks onto it. The thicker brush screens him, making him feel a bit safer. Looking down he’s amazed to see if anything he’s even harder than before. No way a zipper will be able to contain this. But the damned woman is still blundering around out there. Maybe if he takes off his jacket and covers himself, he can pretend …
No. He’s a grown man. He shouldn’t have to pretend anything. He shouldn’t have to hide. He left the path for privacy. He is minding his own business. He didn’t ask for company. He is entitled to find his own peace in the forest. He picks up a stick.
Flashes of her through the shrubbery. “Is there someone here? Do you need help?” It’s that red haired girl, the nasty little Natasha. The one he saw punch out her boyfriend. That Boris is a big guy but she knocked him down and he didn’t even fight back, he just took it like a sap.
Damn woman’s almost found him.
That can’t happen. It can’t it can’t it can’t. Oh god in heaven she’s going to find him.
He watches her move around the tree and tentatively step back onto the path. He can see her clearly from behind. How much damage does she need to do in a day? He tightens his grip on the stick and stands up.
The woman is dangerous.
