QUICK! While my dad has the Wifi on the generator, I'm posting another chapter!

Chapter Nine

Hide and Seek

Can you see my car through the falling snow?

Can you see me creeping behind you?

I don't think you can, but I'm going slow and staying back, just in case.

I would hate to freak you out, but I worry about you getting home safe and sound, all bones free from breaks and beautiful skin scrape free.

I worry.

And I love you too much to let anything happen to you.

*()*()*

Suddenly you turn and look straight through the windshield of the car.

The light snow doesn't hide me and I know you can see me.

Shit.

You stop in the middle of the road, right in front of my house.

You know it's me.

You know I've been watching.

Fuck.

I pull to the side of the road and just sit in the car, attempting to calm my racing heart and dry my sweaty palms on the leather seat beneath me.

You saw me, I know you did, but instead of confronting me, you turn around and start running again.

I wish I knew what was going on in that little head of yours. Are you grateful that I'm looking out for you?

I ease away from the curb and follow your home, staying a bit closer now that you know I'm back here. Plus I get a much better view of your ass in those pants closer up.

Once you are safe and sound, I head back to my house and straight into the shower to jerk off before work.

At least this will give the wall a rest.

Jizz is easier to wash off tile than paint.

This I know for a fact.

*()*()*

The cold that has kept you in bulky sweats and hoodies has tapered off, and today it almost feels like spring.

January in Washington is unpredictable.

But you're out in any weather.

You're like the damn postal service.

Neither rain nor sleet nor dark of night, will keep you from making my pants get tight.

I still worry about you when it snows, but your balance seems better and I can't help but wonder what you're doing to strengthen your muscles.

Are you sweating you ass off in an ashram doing Bikram Yoga? Or are you busting your butt as your instructor puts you through you paces doing Ashtanga Yoga?

Yeah…I did my research. So what?

Whatever it is, it's working.

*()*()*

Oh shit, what are you doing to me?

Who the hell runs in a skort?

I'm sure there are shorts under it, hence the skort.

Skirt + short = skort. Like fork + spoon = spork.

Stupid English language.

All I can think is, it would only take one slide of that material to the side, and...

What happened?

I looked down for one split second to pull my cock out and now you're bent over.

Are you hurt?

Should I call-

What the fuck are you doing?

Did you trip?

Are you seriously bending over in the middle of the street?

You are.

Your ass is in the air, feet spread wide, hands on the ground, stretching.

You must have gotten a cramp, right in front of my house.

Coincidence?

I think not.

*()*()*

As you slowly stand up, you look over your shoulder…right at the house.

Then you turn and start running again.

I hate to see you go…

But love to watch you leave.

You guys know I don't read much (well...anything) anymore...but CaraNo's 'White Picket What?' is just...crackfic fabulous. It is hilarious!

And Shell Shock's 'Try' is making me want to find myself a Kiwi...or maybe set my Siri to English (Australian).

And of course there is 'Out of the Mouths of Babes,' by Edward's Eternal. She is just finishing up with that Daddy/Docward fabulouness.

And 'Kinkily Ever After' by bornonhalloween updated on Saturday. Code Brown...

And...and...

Okay...so I read a FEW things. But not much. How could I when I've constantly got someone small and cute hanging off me.

Too bad it isn't Rob. ;-)

See you...whenever!