Discoveries by the River

She watched him leave the market every day at the same time. Something about him always drew her attention. Maybe it was his posture, his gait, his entire aura. Whatever it was, she never missed his exit—through the market stalls, past the city gates, and down the forest path. Where he went beyond that, she could only imagine. What he did, well that baffled her even more.

Following him would almost certainly be dangerous. She was a young woman, just barely twenty, and he was a man; a relatively young man, she guessed, given his appearance and attire, but a man nonetheless. To venture outside the protection of the city walls, down a less trodded path, through woods the outlaws called home, all the while in pursuit of a stranger going to an unknown place to do unknown things was simply an absurd idea. And yet, she was drawn to him as a moth is to a flame. Some unrelenting and unknowable force compelled her completely to follow.

She resolved to do it the next day.

Several hours before he was scheduled to leave, she positioned herself inconspicuously across the market road from his stall. The market was busy, but when the sea of people parted now and then she had a perfect view of him. The preparatory stalk from such a close vantage point was unnecessary, of course. He left at the same time every day, without fail. This regularity, as well as the force that compelled her to him, meant she could have carried on with her duties as usual. She would not have missed his departure. But she shirked her responsibilities anyway in order to observe him more closely.

His family were bread bakers. Lined in the stall were a dozen or so perfectly formed loaves. Someone, his mother or perhaps a much older sister, handled the trading up front while he worked at the back of the stall on a fresh dough. From where she stood, she could see and hear him work. In a large bowl the dough sat slippery and wet. He prodded it gently with his fingers. In they went and the dough emitted a soft squelch; back out they came and again created a tingly sound. He floured the work bench and plopped the soft dough onto the powdery surface. Then with both hands he began to rhythmically work it. Back and forth, side to side, up then down. At one point he lifted the dough off the table completely and returned it with a loud smack. She watched his forearms as he continued kneading. They were muscular and a few veins bulged faintly just above his wrists. She saw that the longer he worked the dough, the firmer it became. When finally it was a springy sphere, he lifted the dough gently back into the bowl, giving it one last tender prod before covering it with a rag.

By the end of the second proof, it was nearing time for him to leave. He placed the dough in the fiery wood oven, removed his apron, spoke briefly to the woman up front, and began his walk across the market toward the gates.

Now was the moment.

She stood more alert and began tracking his path through the neighboring stalls. Here in the bustling town square, she could follow at as close a measure as she liked without fear of suspicion. But keeping her distance would be necessary outside the city walls where he was more likely to notice her along the quiet solitude of the forest path. When they reached the gates she hesitated slightly inside the wall, questioning her resolve. But ultimately the unknown force within pulled her onward.

She followed at a safe distance—not so close that he would notice her, but not so far that any outlaw attack on her might go unnoticed by him. He was both a potential for danger and for protection out here.

They walked for what she estimated to be half an hour along a path winding through the forest. Then up ahead, he unexpectedly disappeared behind the tall grasses which lined the river bank. For the first time since stepping foot beyond the city gates, she did not have sight of him, and she suddenly felt the gravity of her decision to follow. This anxiety momentarily paralyzed her, and when she finally found the ability to move again, she involuntarily bounded, at top speed, the remaining length of the forest path and into the river grasses.

They were tall, well above her head, and thick. Her swift movement through them made a loud rustling sound. She collected herself and continued forward at a slower and softer pace. On and on the grasses went. For a moment she wondered if she would be stuck in their midst forever, doomed to trudge through them for all eternity as a perpetual punishment for having stalked an innocent stranger.

But finally they began to thin, and she could see just beyond to the river bank.

He was standing at the water’s edge, looking across the water to the bank opposite. She remained standing, hidden just behind the edge of grass. What will he do? She wondered. What is he here for?

Just as she asked herself this, she got the answer. He removed both his boots, untied the belt from around his waist, removed his shirt, and stepped out of his pants. She gasped quietly at his sudden nakedness. Oh, a bath.

He remained standing for a moment at the edge of the river. She had averted her eyes the moment his bare ass had been exposed. She felt it wrong to look at someone’s nakedness without their permission. Though ultimately, this qualm wasn’t enough to deter her, but only to make her guilty when she raised her eyes.

His rear was round and white, slightly paler than the rest of the skin on his body. It looked firm and reminded her for a moment of the dough he had been working the hour prior. Before she had gotten a chance to fully examine the backside of him naked, he dipped into the water.

She caught her breath with him out of earshot. Her heart was beating fast and there was an aching between her legs that she found familiar but did not fully understand. Again she considered that to view him in such a vulnerable position, unannounced, was wrong. But she had come this far, and to turn back now—alone—was a dangerous proposition.

Before she had fully made up her mind whether to stay or go, he began swimming back toward the river bank, and her heart leapt in her chest. He emerged from the water slowly—first his broad shoulders, next his muscled chest, then his tapered waist leading in the shape of the letter V to his flaccid cock, dangling between his legs. The rest of him she did not watch exit the water. Her eyes were locked on his manhood, droplets of water running down its length and falling to the ground from its tip.

With his toes buried slightly in the warm earth of the river bank, she could see sudden goose flesh erupt across his body. He stretched his arms above his head and shivered slightly. Her entire body shuttered as she watched his cock move, swaying slightly this way and that. Then he stepped further up the river bank and knelt down beside his clothes.

She was afraid he would clothe himself again. Her desire to continue observing him naked was intense; it stirred up something wonderful inside her.

He did not put his clothes back on. Instead, he arranged them flat on the ground to serve as a barrier for the dirt and then lay down on top of them. His back was to the ground, his toes pointed straight up to the sky, one of his hands rested behind locks of thick blonde hair, and the other hand lie gently on his hairless chest.

She watched with bated breath.

For some time nothing happened. It appeared that he might have dozed off while lying out to dry. But she was studying every inch of him still, and she began to notice a strange change in the shape of his penis.

One moment it lie limp against the inside of his leg, then slowly, it began to grow. And then to rise. She held her breath and thought she must be confused, for the muscle appeared to have doubled, if not tripled, in size. Surely such a sudden and dramatic change in girth and length was not possible. Her heart was beating hard against the inside her chest, threatening to escape her body and go to meet him.

Suddenly, with the hand that had been resting on his chest, he grasped his erection. He teased it gently at first, then spit into his hand and returned with more vigor, pumping his shaft rhythmically, up and down, up and down.

Her mouth hung slightly agape as she watched him from her hiding spot. He worked his cock with the same level of expertise as he had worked the dough in the market stall. And she wondered, What part of my body could he work like this?

At this point her heart was positively racing.

He too was becoming more and more aroused. She could tell this because of the low, moaning noises coming from the back of his throat. And because his cock was absolutely throbbing in his hand. Just looking at it she could tell it was as hard as a rock. She didn’t know how all this delightful tension would end, but frankly, she wasn’t sure she wanted it to. She felt she could have sat hidden in the grass watching him touch himself and savoring the shivering anticipation it awoke in her body forever.

But the finale was coming; she could tell.

His ass cheeks were now clenching in pace with the movement of his hand, as if working to raise his hips ever slightly and create a little thrust from his cock. His other hand, long since removed from behind his head, was gripping tightly the clothes lying at his side. His legs were bent slightly at the knees, and his toes were digging into the ground. This was pleasure, but this was also work. She could see that clearly.

Then his mouth fell open and a slightly louder, satisfied noise issued from him. In an instant he stopped massaging himself and went ridged. She watched a small propulsion of fluid erupt from the tip of his penis. It shot out powerfully at first, reaching around his navel, then weaker once or twice more.

His body slowly relaxed; his eyes closed.

Her cheeks, neck, and groin felt hot. She was still standing and was breathing heavily. Around her ankle she suddenly felt something wet. She raised the skirt of her dress and saw a stream of thick, clear fluid trailing all the way down her leg. She spread her legs slightly wider and hiked the dress higher around her waist. She was wearing no undergarments. Tentatively, she slipped two fingers into the fleshy folds between her legs.

It was as if she had dipped her fingers in the river itself. She pulled them out slowly and the sticky fluid clung to them.

She was startled away from her own body when she heard him stand. He picked his clothes up, shook the dirt off them, and redressed. As he was tying his belt, she started, realizing he would soon make his way back up the river bank and through the grasses where she was standing. She hastily dropped her skirt and walked back toward the forest, hiding behind the nearest tree she could find.

He walked past, still unaware of her presence, back up the path toward the city.

She gripped the tree for balance, looking back down at her soaked fingers. Instinctively, she brought them to her lips and licked them clean.

I will come back tomorrow, she thought. And this time, I will show myself to him.