It had been a while since I had spotted her, but I couldn't really see her. Each time I left when she arrived, or vice versa. But today she is here. A few strides ahead of me. Some beautiful strides, aerial and yet powerful. It remained to approach me discreetly, without seeming to follow her. But what I really wanted was to see her in the face, maybe meet her gaze.For now, I'm behind her. Thin, or rather slender. The coppery skin, enhanced by the light of the grazing sun of this end of the soft day of a ending summer. Barely (un)dressed in a sports outfit the same color as her gingerbread skin. She wears shorts, very short. And very tight. Who largely reveals the top of her thighs, not to say the birth of her buttocks, round and well shaped. In fact, I don't wonder if it's shorts or a skort. We'll see later.I'm still a bit far, and I accelerate slowly to catch up. Time to admire her gingerbread-colored legs, muscular and slender. Taking advantage of a tree trunk across the track that she jumps with lightness, I can see that she is wearing a very tight skirt made of I don't know what elastic fabric. The jump still brought him up slightly. Enough to show her buttocks a bit higher and allow me to assume... that she's not wearing anything underneath. It was fleeting, and delicious.I can't wait to see if the place is worth the upside, but I don't want to double it and turn around to checkmate either. First, it wouldn't last long enough, and then, it's rude.I know the place well enough to know that a path in the undergrowth runs along the track we are following. I can take it a little further. I have to accelerate again to pass it. First because she's obviously a trained girl. His appearance proves it. But also because the terrain is a little wilder. Fortunately, there are not too many pitfalls and I can regularly monitor the track at the edge of the wood. A few hundred meters further on, I'll be able to come back to it having taken enough of a lead. And slowing down. To take the time. To see it happen. A gazelle ? No, too flimsy. She has a feline look. A toned body, straight shoulders that support a generous chest. The closer she approaches, the more she reveals herself. It's a skirt she wears. Outfit rather incongruous given the place, and the activity...Low waist, revealing a flat but muscular stomach. Her top is as tight as her skirt, so it couldn't hide the presence of any fabric underneath. No bra, therefore. Moreover, the caress of the fabric should not leave the lady's breasts indifferent. Her nipples point furiously below. This welcome absence suggests firm, well-rounded breasts, highlighted if necessary by a slim waist above well-defined hips.Even closer I can detail his features. His face reflects a beautiful serenity in the effort. No trace of pain. Regular breath. Mine has a tendency to accelerate, but it's not because of the effort. I have time to see her green, almond-shaped eyes and her high cheekbones. Her chestnut hair tinged with red highlights, tied high in a well-furnished ponytail suggests abundant hair.Bright. She is bright and feline. Savage. Something animal and sensual emanates from her. And I really want to know more. Without rushing anything.As I looked at her frankly when I met her, her gaze supported mine. And she returned the smile I gave her. Is it a simple greeting from one runner to another, or something else, like an invitation. So I go around again, hoping to meet her again. As the ride progresses, the tension mounts. I do not see her. Arrived where I had crossed, I must face the facts. She is not there anymore. Or else she went in the opposite direction. A kind of game. So I turn around and leave slowly. But there again I can only note its absence. So I decide to go back through the woods on a path that cuts through. I enter it slowly, to take advantage of the softness that envelops me after the heat that reigns on the track. Light dims as I sink, and the foliage becomes denser. I barely see him in the half-light of the undergrowth. A few meters from the path, in a tiny clearing. She is lying on the grass, one leg erect at right angle. She is an accomplished sportswoman who does not forget to stretch after exercise. I enjoy a moment of the show that is offered to me. Without moving. Well almost. The sound of a branch cracking makes her head spin. She sits down and invites me with her gaze. It's discreet, but irresistible. I feel a wave of heat rise in me as I approach. She released her hair. Abundant hair that undulates to his shoulders. in a tiny clearing. She is lying on the grass, one leg erect at right angle. She is an accomplished sportswoman who does not forget to stretch after exercise. I enjoy a moment of the show that is offered to me. Without moving. Well almost. The sound of a branch cracking makes her head spin. She sits down and invites me with her gaze. It's discreet, but irresistible. I feel a wave of heat rise in me as I approach. She released her hair. Abundant hair that undulates to his shoulders. in a tiny clearing. She is lying on the grass, one leg erect at right angle. She is an accomplished sportswoman who does not forget to stretch after exercise. I enjoy a moment of the show that is offered to me. Without moving. Well almost. The sound of a branch cracking makes her head spin. She sits down and invites me with her gaze. It's discreet, but irresistible. I feel a wave of heat rise in me as I approach. She released her hair. Abundant hair that undulates to his shoulders. The sound of a branch cracking makes her head spin. She sits down and invites me with her gaze. It's discreet, but irresistible. I feel a wave of heat rise in me as I approach. She released her hair. Abundant hair that undulates to his shoulders. The sound of a branch cracking makes her head spin. She sits down and invites me with her gaze. It's discreet, but irresistible. I feel a wave of heat rise in me as I approach. She released her hair. Abundant hair that undulates to his shoulders.Without a word, I accompany him in his stretching exercises that I know well. In front of her, her gaze guides me, magnetic. It's hard to take my eyes off it, when I really want to admire her body. Fortunately, I have enough perspective to see the muscles of her thighs playing flexibly, and her "skirt" which no longer hides much without it bothering her more than that. It's fleeting, however it seems that my gazelle has very smooth skin, very high between her thighs.But I digress. No question of cutting corners, the animal seems wild, and it's clearly not me who is in control of the situation. It does not displease me. Especially since she makes me a proposal, in a warm, slightly veiled voice:"Everyone goes their own way, and ... if we meet at the start of the track, then everyone will express at the same time what they want. If our desires have nothing to do, then everyone agrees to leave on its side. Otherwise, our imagination will do the rest. See you within 10 minutes at the latest. Nobody waits beyond that."She said that in one breath, without taking her eyes off me. And then she left, in small, quiet strides, without looking at me. I watched her walk away, like in a dream, a little dazed. I had to shake myself to direct myself to our possible meeting. Unbearable wait. I couldn't help but run at a brisk, feverish pace. I already knew what I wanted. But when I arrived there was no one there. I sank into disappointment when I saw her appear after a time that seemed infinite to me, when it shouldn't have been more than a handful of minutes. In fact, it had been almost 10 minutes since we had separated.A discreet and enigmatic smile appeared on her lips, while she approached me with a flexible but determined gait. A quick glance at her watch told me clearly that she had played with time...or with me, like a cat plays with a mouse.She stopped in front of me, almost touching me. Then she screwed her eyes into mine again. Raising her hand, she silently counted to three. His arm fell. Our voices mingled."Shower, and massage each other" "Take a bath together, then relax with massages" It was pretty much the same thing. Neither of themAnd it was she who took my hand and led me to her car. A little sportswoman. A nervous and racy convertible. She had a quick and smooth ride. Elegant trajectories. We quickly arrived in front of an old stone house. She parked the car out front and waved me in. With a look. In front of the house, a somewhat wild lawn. A few trees. The house is an old stone building, renovated with taste. Without flash. No plaster. Brown stones in the light of the setting sun. The windows are framed with wooden shutters, closed, dyed with a pastel green stain. A Virginia creeper runs along part of the wall and the corner of the house. On the other gable too, no doubt. But I don't have time to detail everything. There is also a floor. My unknown me opens the d ...

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