Running Mate

Running Mate
Sarah Barimen
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Sarah Barimen

By the time I reached the jogging trail from the parking lot, I'd found my stride. Air whispered past my face. The rhythm of the steady pounding of my shoes against the pavement was soothing. Kalen was out there somewhere. He was always out there somewhere, and I never knew when to expect him or who he would be when he appeared.

The park was busy in the dusk, populated as always by families with children, elderly ladies taking their evening constitutionals, dog-walkers holding leashes like the strings of so many earthbound balloons and joggers like me.

He wouldn't want any of them, though. He was a predator but I was his only prey.

The path through the park led under trees, across groomed open spaces and along hedges. I began to feel a thrill of excitement that had nothing to do with the so-called "runner's high." Somewhere here, he might step out of the bushes. Somewhere here, he might appear. Anticipation began to build with flickers of sexual pleasure like tiny tongues of flame, touching me and fading away. The fire wanted only fuel.

I was breathing hard as I rounded one particular curve in the path. The lights along the path were blinking on, taking the place of the vanishing daylight. Shadows lay heavy where the trees stood between light and path. I was alone at that point. No other joggers, no dogs or children were in view. The setting was perfect, and he didn't disappoint.

One moment I was jogging along; the next, a strong hand grasped me, flinging me around. A powerful arm encircled me, preventing my stumble from becoming a fall. I didn't recognize his face, but did I ever? I gave an involuntary cry of surprise.

"Shut it," an unfamiliar voice half-whispered. "Someone will hear you." His arm encircled my throat, not quite enough to cut off my air. I was grateful for that, as I could hardly catch my breath as it was. He half-dragged me through the undergrowth. Away from the lamplight, the space under the trees was dark. It was all I could do to keep my feet.

"I like you sweaty," he hissed as we made our rough way away from the path.

Even now I could hear voices of people talking as they walked past. No one realized I had been taken. That I was going to be taken. All this within earshot of the path.

We came to a patch of bushes. Under these he thrust me. I stumbled to my knees. There was a blanket on the ground. Not thick enough to cushion my fall, it nevertheless told me where I was and kept me from falling onto the dirt. I looked and found what I expected: the faint cool blue light of a light stick, its muffled glow illuminating the interior of a nylon tent.

I started to crawl inside. Falling on his knees behind me, he caught me with his arm around my waist, grinding his pelvis and his hard cock up against the sleek spandex-clad curve of my ass. "Oh yeah. God, I've been waiting so long for you to come along tonight." He released me then, sliding his possessive hand around my hip and over one cheek.

The interior of the tent was cushioned several layers deep in sleeping bags or blankets. He followed me in, first zipping down the fly on the tent and then zipping down the fly on his pants. I turned to face him. The thrill of anticipation tingled in the tips of my breasts and ached between my thighs. His cheeks were hollow this time and his shoulders broader, but I couldn't tell the color of his hair or eyes. The light stick was too dim to show those details. He went commando under his jeans, and his erection thrust eagerly into the faint blue light, into the secret enclosed place in the tent. It twitched while I watched, eager to be thrust into somewhere darker and yet more secret. He pulled his shirt off while my eyes remained fixed on what he had in store for me. He worked off his jeans.

I kneeled, trembling in wait.