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the same time taut as a bowstring, ready to snap into action at the briefest hint of danger. She was entranced. She had no idea how long she sat there, just watching the deer eat, look up, then bend back to the leaves below. Eventually the buck moved towards the stream and drank; she could see his tiny tongue now that he had moved out of the trees. Suddenly the buck and doe jerked their heads up simultaneously, hesitated a fraction of a second, then bounded off into the woods. Sara let out a breath she hadnt known she was holding. In that moment, however long it had lasted, she had felt an incomparable connectedness with nature. It was overwhelming, and she felt it radiating around her as if she had maintained some part of it within her. Movement caught her eye, and she turned to see the stranger rising from his place of concealment in the undergrowth off to her left. He was tall and his skin was either dark or severely tanned. Aside from the green t-shirt, he wore khaki cargo shorts and sandals. His shaggy black hair hung down into his eyes and curled around his ears and at the back of his neck. His body was lean and trim, not muscular, but well-toned. She was terrified as he strode purposefully towards her and stopped at her feet, looking down at her. She could read nothing in his expression, his eyes seemed to bore through her and see something else. He knelt beside her and placed a hand on her ankle. She wanted to pull away; she had no idea what he intended. His callused fingers turned her ankle gently, as if he were holding a goblet of the finest crystal. He moved his fingers lightly around her ankle, probing, then began kneading at the spot where she had felt it wrench just before falling. She felt a sudden jab of pain, then it stopped. Her ankle no longer throbbed. He continued rubbing, both hands now on her as he worked some form of massage magic on her twisted limb. His thumb worked behind the bump on her outer ankle, stroking the hollow with steady pressure. She felt heat rise into her face, felt a familiar longing tug at her senses as his massage continued. Oh my God, hes turning me on. I want him. What should I say? She sat up, her face now above his as he worked at her ankle. She stared at him, into his eyes, a radiant bluish-green. His hands began to move upwards, caressing her calf, working their way up her leg, tracing over her skin like static electricity. Now one had was on each leg, moving up past her knees, under her designer skirt, pushing the skirt up her thighs as he explored further. His touch was unlike that of any other man Sara had ever been with; it sent shivers up her legs, straight between them, each small movement increasing her arousal. She opened her


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mouth to speak, but he moved like lightning, and pressed one fingertip to her lips, his eyes bright. He shook his head no. She understood. Dont speak, youll ruin the moment. She laid back on the grass, his hands working their way higher, his fingers pushing up under the waistband of her panties, wrapping in them. My God, I cant believe how badly I want him right now, she thought. She lifted her hips and he pulled her panties down her legs, off over her bare feet. Her mind was racing, yes, yes, take me now, and she felt herself growing more and more wet. He climbed atop her, his hands on the ground to either side of her, his chest hovering above her breasts, the weight of his lower body pressing her hips down into the grass, his legs between hers, his erection pressing against her. He stared down into her eyes, and something inside her liquefied under his scrutiny. She pushed up against his hardness. Running her hands down his back she realized that his pants were undone as her fingers tracked over his bare buttocks. He lifted himself up slightly, moving her skirt from between their nakedness, then lowered himself back down and she felt the heat of his penis on her skin, rubbing over her mound. She was wet, soaked, wanting him to enter her, wanting to feel him inside her. She reached one hand down and wrapped her fingers around his firmness, guiding him to her. He entered her tentatively, barely inside, pulling back a fraction, then sliding in further. He was scarcely within, only just parting her; expectation shivered through her entire body. Gradually he slipped further inside her, bit by bit he pressed slowly between her lips, unhurried, deliberately drawing out her anticipation. She wriggled against him, pressing towards him, trying to surround him, urging him onward. A slight smile flickered at the corners of his mouth as he teased her. Sara felt him fill her and squeezed him within her walls. He gave her the last measure of his length with a decisive thrust, causing her to let out a tiny cry. He began to plunge slowly in and out, deep inside, then almost completely out. He varied the depth and pace of each drive as she writhed beneath him, fingers clawing at his back, eyes shut tight as he pumped into her. She felt herself approaching the brink of orgasm. She stared directly into his eyes, her breath quickening, pulse racing, the tightening inside her priming her for her release. He just stared at her as if he knew exactly what she were thinking, never changing his rhythm, continuously thrusting, bringing her right to the edge and then watching her crash down over the precipice. Waves of pleasure washed through her body, every nerve ending seemed alive to the slightest touch, her entire being exploded in ecstasy. She writhed beneath him as she came back from the limits of reality, his pumping slower now, her skin sensitive