back of his throat. She
wasn’t putting on another bra but simply slipping the new white t-shirt over
her head.
Next,
she pulled down the waders, stepped out of them, and set them down on the
grass.
He
licked his lips as she slipped off her jeans, the obviously wet panties under
them gliding off her body too.
His
cock sprang to life when he saw the dark curls bordering the most gorgeous pair
of curvy thighs he’d ever seen. She suddenly bent over. Shit, his fingers
almost wouldn’t let him adjust the binoculars quick enough to zoom in even more.
They weren’t that great which meant it wasn’t the best view, but he was
rewarded with the slightest glimpse of her pussy.
You are a bad
bear. This is so, so naughty. Put the binoculars down and walk away from the
window.
He
couldn’t. He could swear they were stuck to his hands. His feet glued to the
carpet.
Trent
ran his hand down the front of his pants, feeling the bulge and sensing the
need to do something about the sudden surge in hormones. She slipped on another
pair of undies and jeans and then carried everything back up the hill and went
out of view.
Would
she be back?
He
hoped so. She was welcome to fish in his stream anytime she wanted.
He
rolled the still cool beer bottle over his forehead hoping that would take away
the sudden rise of heat in his body. All this discomfort was his
own damn fault. What did you expect when you became the voyeur of a
sexy, curvy woman?
His
balls were heavy and achy, his cock rigid and almost pulsating its way out of
his pants. Every single vein in his shaft felt like it was gorged with blood
and about to explode.
Damn.
He’d just planned on a relaxing with his beer,
a good book, and finally watching the sun setting over the mountain range. But
now he’d have to put that on hold.
Trent
hurried into his bedroom, pulled off his jeans and boxers, letting his cock
spring free.
Phew,
that felt better. Dr. Delaney had told him to take it easy while he was on the
mend, but he wouldn’t mind doing some physical therapy with the trespasser.
Why
was he still thinking about the woman in the stream? For all he knew, she was a
mile away by now and he’d never see her again.
He
ran his hand along his shaft. He hadn’t gotten laid for six months, and it was
driving him crazy. Before he realized it, he was flat on his back on his bed,
running his hand up and down his shaft at record speed.
Even
this was better than nothing.
Another
gurgle in his throat rose as his climax reached its peak and he found release.
He
turned and put his face into the pillow, wishing she’d do some trespassing in
his house next time.
****
Emily
tossed and turned in the back of the camper. She pushed the pillow around
hoping that would soften it up some more. The damn thing felt like it was
stuffed with pebbles. And the mattress wasn’t much better. How did guys stand
sleeping on these things?
She stared at the ceiling for a few minutes
and then looked at her watch. Only one minute and thirty seconds since she’d
last checked it the last time. She should have brought more books with her.
Even put her Kindle into her bag. Maybe she’d go back into town tomorrow and
pick up some magazines. Anything to stop herself from going
stir-crazy.
Just
two minutes past eight at night. She’d never been in bed this early before.
Well, not since she was nine-years-old and sent to her room when it was a
school night.
She
turned and looked out of the window. One plus was that it sure was pretty here.
The sun was setting and cast a beautiful glow on the water.
The water.
What
a disaster her first attempt at fly-fishing had been. Her ass still hurt where
she’d fallen on the rocks and then on the grassy bank. Maybe she’d have better
luck tomorrow.
There
was no way she could go home without catching a fish. Her dad would know if she
lied. He’d been able to since she was a kid.
“Your
eyes water when you’re not telling me the
Amanda A. Allen, Auburn Seal