A Foggy Run

A Foggy Run

She flexed her legs and made a face as if to say that it hurt, but that good kind of hurt that made the workout worth it.
Shawn, standing off the winding paved path they had been jogging on in his suburban neighborhood, took a deep breath and a small plume of fog rolled out of his mouth and joined with the rest the morning was holding. He couldn’t help but admire her.
Staci Simon had been his crush since fifth grade, and had turned him down for just about as long. He had spent countless hours thinking about that bark colored hair. She had always let it grow past her shoulders and before her butt. She would have said that only girls from the back country would let their hair grow any longer. He let his eyes follow her hair as it snaked down her frame to the small of her back.
She was leaning over now. Working on loosening the knee she had injured in a mountain biking incident a few years prior. “God she is beautiful.”
“God you’re beautiful Stace.”
“Ha! I had actually just been thinking how lucky I am to be with you. You know, I never would have guessed that I would get to wake up to a run with my best friend. Or more importantly that Shawn Gueden would be my best friend.”
That last sentence made warmth swell from the base of his sternum. His heart beat had normalized during their break, but her words made him shift his stance to look at her head on, dumb grin on his face.
“No you don’t,” Staci said, “I don’t want to play right now!”
He didn’t answer. Rather he swiftly slid over next to her and in one motion swept her off her feet and laid her on the grass beneath him, to the right of the path.
“Baby please!”
But it was no use, Shawn was tickling her with abandon. Under her arms, in between her ribs, near her waist, her upper thighs, all the places he had practiced stealing giggles from her.
“I’m sorry babe, what did you say? I couldn’t hear you over the laughter.” Then he began to replace some of his tickles for kisses. He kissed her hair that he loved so much. He started at the ends and worked his way back up to her brow. When he reached her forehead he slowed down, having stopped tickling at all at this point. Kissing down the bridge of her nose her said, “I love you Staci.”
He then kissed her mouth, before she could answer. She never said it back but she showed it. It was just that her dad had left when she was young and the last thing she remembered him doing the morning he left was saying, “I love you dear, see you tonight!” He had been fucking his french tutor. His boss had hired her for him, so he could spearhead a new campaign in Eastern Canada. They had screwed during the second lesson. So Staci never said I love you, but she lived it better than anyone he knew.
Shawn twisted himself on his back and put Staci on top of him; he was always worried of squishing her, being so much larger than his small counter part. He noticed immediately how wet the fog had made the grass, and with that how thick the fog had become.
She didn’t let him think past that though, immediately kissing him again, this time taking initiative. She kissed down his neck to the part of his chest that his v-neck exposed. She had realized how thick the fog had gotten because she usually wasn’t this bold in public.
She pulled up his shirt shocking him twice. First when his bare skin hit the cold ground and second when her lips connected with his navel. Wrapping the fog around her like one of his shirts she pulled on his drawstring waistband, kissing him lower now.

After a few minutes their breathing began to sound like they were running again. But Staci had to readjust, her knee bothering her. When she stopped her marathon downstairs and moved to a sitting position she almost overlooked the change that had stolen over their makeshift bed.
The morning had come suddenly, as it is apt to do in the early days of winter like they were in. The fog was still heavy around them, but not nearly as heavy as it had been. And there was a breeze making the fog run along the path next to them.
But off to her left was the shape that made her stop. It was a man, partially visible through the fog, standing calmly, looking over his fence at the couple. His hair was the same color of the fog and he stood lips up over his fenceposts. She could hear the squishing noises coming from his direction when their eyes locked.
Shawn had been waiting on his back still, not unfamiliar with the breaks that Staci needed every now and again when she was on her knees. But her face must have awoken him from his pleasured coma as he now got up on one elbow and turned to face the direction she was looking.
At this the man behind the fence said, “Come on whore, suck some more cock. Or do you need me to come give you some myself?”
Staci couldn’t respond. And without moving she watched Shawn wriggle out from beneath her and confidently stride over to the man.
“What the fuck did you say?” Shawn said strongly, but not too loudly.
“Not interested in you son.” The man said keeping eye contact with Staci. “But I encouraged your whore to finish what she started so I can finish, or to come over here and do it herself.”
Staci felt sick and her ears began to buzz a little like they did when she and Shawn used to fight.
Staci shifted her weight to her hip to take the pressure of her tailbone and wrapped her legs around in front of her. She shifted her eyes to a patch of grass that the couple had loosed, thinking to hide her face which must be blood red by this point.
She readjusted her top which had become disheveled during the run and again with Shawn. She noticed that she had sweat rings boldly around the under arms of her teal shirt.
She threw up. It was a combination of the run and the blowjob and hearing Shawn shouting and the eyes that were running all over her body. But the red of her face and the sweat stains grounded her and threw her cereal all in front of her.
It had come too swiftly for her to fully avoid messing on herself. It burned her throat as it came up and the noise of it must have shaken Shawn out of his fury because he hurried over to her.
“Are you alright?”
“Are you sick? Should I take you to the doctor?”
“No, let’s just leave.” She said looking up to where the man had been standing, and having noticed that he left she added, “and lets hurry before he gets back.”
“Okay honey.” Shawn said with what sounded like a mixture of concern and left over fury.

But as Shawn helped Staci to her shaky feet the man had come back out carrying a towel.
“Here you go boy.” He said as he handed Shawn the towel, though he was still only looking at Staci. “Go ahead and clean yourself up.”
Shawn dabbed Staci’s lip affectionately and then turned back with a glare.
If he said anything to the man while the couple walked away she didn’t hear it. She was staring at the white, and now brown, towel. It had C.B. monogramed on it. She let her fingers trace the outline of the letters feeling sick.


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