The ground is hard, and I already know that clay that dominates the natural soil around here. This is going to be tough going, and I’m going to have to put a lot of effort into it. But that’s okay. I’ve got time, and a lot of topsoil and fertilizer. Besides, I’m tired of the looks when I go into town just to get some goddamn herbs or corn.

I pick up my garden fork, lifting it to drive the tines into the ground when I see something that makes my hands stop, frozen. Walking across the deck of the old O’Hara place is a woman.

Now, that’s nothing new. Winnie O’Hara and I were neighbors for four years, ever since I bought this cabin from a retiring Police Captain who wanted to move to Florida and heard about me and decided to help me out. Winnie and I weren’t close, nothing more than the occasional wave, but this stunning vixen who’s making her way down the back stairs and towards the lake I’ve never seen before. She must be Winnie’s granddaughter, I heard the U-Haul pull up but I was out in the woods at the time, and in the past few days I’ve heard what sounds like a small scooter going up and down the dirt road that connects us to town.

Long silvery hair that’s too dark to be called white but not dark enough to be called gray cascades down her back almost like burnished sterling, her skin looking silky soft and smooth even from fifty yards away. She’s wearing sunglasses so I can’t see her eyes, but her body… in my work pants my cock starts to stiffen quickly, looking at the way her breasts, not too big but certainly enough to fill my work roughened hands, strain against the black fabric of her daring string bikini. Her stomach is flat and toned, and her legs… fuck, I haven’t been this turned on in a long time.

The woman heads onto the dock, and I get a look at an ass that makes my mind fill with desires I thought I had under control. Tight, curvy, and with just enough bounce to make my now iron hard cock ache, I can’t believe that I’ve got the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life sunning herself just fifty yards away… and that she might be my neighbor.

Go introduce yourself, a little voice in my head says. Just go say hi, you fucking idiot.

No way in hell. One look at the scarred beast who lives next door to her and she’s going to be hightailing it out of here as fast as that scooter would take her. If it wasn’t for the fact that I can shave my touch and habit by now, I’d probably be sporting a scraggly ass beard considering I can barely look at myself.

I put my garden fork away, going inside before the beauty on the docks can see me. Stripping down to just my underwear, I ignore my cock for the moment as I go into my closet and change clothes. Tactical pants, a compression shirt that covers me to the wrists, and trail runners are my standard outfit for these runs, but I also decide to add in my Camelbak, it’s a warm day and I could use the water.

Leaving my cabin by the back door, I avoid any views of the beautiful woman as I start along the trail that loops the lake. I created it myself by repeated runs since I moved here, marking pieces of it with orange ribbon on the trees. It’s not on any recognized map, it’s homemade and all in my head. First I climb the steep hill that leads to a view of the entire valley, ignoring the Interstate to the east. It goes north, and if you follow it for a few hours… never mind.

My legs already burn as I start down into the valley, scrambling over logs and rocks as I hop from point to point, avoiding the muddy ground that forms after every rain. As I run I try to block out the voices, to focus on the pain in my muscles and not letting myself equate the burn in my lungs with the fiery pain of six years ago. Anything to avoid that pain, the shame… my failure. And the things said about me afterwards.

Reaching the valley floor again I detour through the state park, going through my ropes course. It took a lot of setup, and I’m sure Dirk the Mayor probably told the local state wardens to not fuck with my system, so for three years I’ve come down here and used them to climb, crawl, and swing my way along the edge of the lake until I come into sight of the hydroelectric dams.

Nobody notices me as I run across the top of the levy, but the road out here is even smaller and more remote than the rest of town. the only people who use it are the workers in the powerplant underneath me. Looping around, I hit the flat and pour on the speed.

I’m fitter than I was six years ago, stronger. The dirt seems to get eaten up by my shoes as I cover the trails in long strides, running from my shame. When I’m running in the woods, nobody can call me a twisted freak, or a monster, or a coward. The deer and the squirrels don’t lie about me, they don’t whisper to each other about the beastly creature disturbing their lives. They just run, but they run from everything anyway. Probably safer here where a lot of Bubbas have Winchesters in the fall and winter.

Still, even as I hurdle a series of tree trunks that I discovered last year, my mind keeps going back to those thirty seconds watching my presumably new neighbor. She was so beautiful, with a body built for something I haven’t done in six years. I would wrap my hands through that hair, pulling her tight against me as my lips feasted on the curve of her neck, my other hand caressing breasts that I’m sure are capped by some of the juiciest nipples ever created. When she’s moaning, pressing her ass against me I’d slip my hand down, over that tight stomach to the waistband of that bikini, rubbing outside at first, drifting lower and lower until she gives in before slipping a hand between her legs.

I can hear her moans as I rub her lips, softly begging me to give her everything she desires, to take her hard and rough, to unleash the beast that lives inside my soul on her body and fuck her better than she’s ever been fucked before. She bends over as I untie one bow on the side of her bikini, her pussy hot and soaked as she gets herself ready. I undo my pants, taking my cock and lining it up with her body and thrusting hard, the tight clench of her pussy squeezing my aching cock almost immediately as we both cry out-

I’m so caught up in my fantasy that I don’t see the branch and trip, thankfully rolling as I tumble along the dirt track and come to a stop. My back’s wet, I’m guessing I punctured my Camelbak inner bag, but I don’t really care as I look up at the sky and try to calm myself. There’s wetness in my crotch and I look down, realizing that my fantasy was so intense that yes, for the first time since I was thirteen, I’ve jizzed in my pants.

“Fuck, I need to watch some porn or something,” I mutter to myself as I get up and check my bag. The outer bag is just fine, but like I suspected, the pressure of my weight rolling over the bag burst a seam, and I’ve got a soaked chunk of nylon to wear on my back as I wrap up the last mile and a half home. Slipping the bag back onto my back, I adjust the straps and start off again, intently focusing on the trail and not on the woman I saw earlier.

“Maybe she’s not my actual neighbor,” I tell myself as I reach the end of the trail and turn right onto the dirt road that will take me the rest of the way home. I’d prefer to stay next to the water, but this is one of the sections of the lake that has houses all the way up to the shore, and my neighbors don’t like the Chicago Horror running through their backyards.

My words sound like a lie even as I say them though. There’s no way that perfect, totally fuckable angel isn’t my new neighbor. I haven’t heard any unfamiliar engine sounds other than the high pitched buzz of the scooter, so it’s not like the house is getting a ton of visitors. And there’s no real estate sign, so it can’t be an agent.

Besides, who the fuck goes out to suntan in a tiny black string bikini unless they actually live there? It’s not the sort of thing you do if you’re the realtor or the cleaning lady.

Nope, I’ve got a problem. For six years I’ve isolated myself, not allowing any woman into my life. I haven’t had a sexual partner in that entire time… and now the living, breathing embodiment of physical fucking perfection is living next door to me. And she doesn’t seem to have a problem showing off her body either, at least in the privacy of her own deck.

I can see the roof of her house as I come around the last bend, there’s only three houses left on my run. I’ve been out for over an hour, and my legs finally feel tired as I try to pour on a little more speed, passing Justin Cassady’s house without even a glance. He’s a self absorbed fuckhead anyway, I don’t bother wasting my time with him.

As I pass the O’Hara house though the front door opens and she steps out, dressed almost similarly to the way I am. Black jeans hug her hips and she’s got on combat boots of all things, while up around her neck and pushed out by her breasts is an expensive looking camera. I do my best to fix my eyes in front of me as I run faster, wanting to be past her before she can go down the stairs.

“Oh hi, are you my-” she says, lifting a hand that I notice was sculpted by the gods themselves, with fine, long fingers that I know are going to star in my fantasies tonight. I pinch my mouth shut, pumping my arms harder and lifting my knees to try and sprint the last thirty yards to my driveway, turning right and not slowing a bit.

“See you later!” she calls after me, and she doesn’t sound angry or upset at all. I still don’t say anything though as I tear open my front door and slam it behind me, finally coming to a stop with my lungs burning and my muscles feeling like Jell-O.