Ambushed

A strange encounter with a beautiful girl is not all it seems

He walked through the cut, the trees arched overhead and only moonlight lit the path ahead. People avoided this area after dark but he had been in a lot nastier places. He had usually been carrying an assault rifle then, but so had a lot of the bad people. English parks tended to be safer.

Sensing movement on the path ahead he instinctively stepped into the cover of the bushes. A girl was walking toward him. Slim, with long dark hair flowing over her shoulders and wearing a light, unbuttoned, jacket, white shirt and tight, light blue jeans.

He stayed in cover, not wanting to suddenly appear and frighten her. She stopped on the path and turned to look directly at him.

“Hello,” she said.

He stepped forward, embarrassed that he had been seen so easily, and glanced up and down the path. Nothing moved in the moonlight and his senses told him they were alone.

“Hello.” His face smiled but his mind was still listening for the slightest sound behind him. Anyone approaching would have difficulty moving silently over the rough ground.

He allowed himself to focus on her as she stood in a pool of moonlight. Her olive-skinned, oval face was pretty and her wide, dark eyes looked at him confidently. The way the jacket swelled suggested she had large breasts and there was a hint of cleavage beneath the open neck of her shirt. The tight-fitting jeans moulded themselves to slender thighs and long legs.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “It’s not the safest place to speak to strange men.”

“I saw you in pub.” She tipped her head to one side. “I…” she paused as if searching for the word. “I fancy you, I follow you.”

She spoke as if she was not used to English, but she had no trace of an accent and if she had followed him how had she been walking toward him? He looked around again. The wood was quiet.

“That’s nice,” he said still alert. There was no sign of a weapon on her although his training told him she could have something hidden in the small of her back, under the jacket. He was a big man, six foot three, muscular, difficult to knock down and had been in knife fights before.

The girl looked directly at him. “I want you to tear off my clothes and fuck me, fuck me hard.”