Page 7 of Earth-Bound

I had a lot to process. Randall’s power disappearing, for one thing. Broadmire being a troll who actually liked things to grow. I was a bit suspicious of that, to be honest. It occurred to me that he might be getting everything planted and growing sohe could destroy it all at once, but that didn’t make sense. Trolls never waited before destroying what they hated. I’d have to just wait and watch him.

And Joe. I’d have to watch Joe. A tingle ran along my spine at the thought of meeting the man. I couldn’t wait to get my strength back so I could leave my tree properly.

Chapter 5: Joe

It was just a normal day, as far as I was concerned. It had been two days since Broadmire had given me permission (again) to do what I wanted with his garden and I was taking him at his word. I’d worked non-stop, getting things ready and I set out early that morning, before the sun was up, determined to make a good start that day. I wasn’t expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen at all.

Then I saw him.

The most beautiful man he’d ever seen stepped out from behind the tree. He was wearing some sort of costume – tight brown trousers and a white shirt, looking like Mr. Darcy after he’s gone swimming in that lake and, yes, I was drooling.

A distant part of my brain noted that the man was walking around in a fancy costume in the middle of nowhere, which was weird, but most of my concentration was taking up by just staring at him. I didn’t want to take my eyes off him for a second. I was too captivated by the sight of him to do anything but stare.

Damn, he was stocky and solidly built. He looked about as solid as the tree he was standing next to. I didn’t normally go infor people with bigger muscles than me but I knew instantly that I’d make an exception for this man.

I was pansexual as fuck and had enjoyed a lot of sex with a range of people. I’d liked Randall because he’d been cute. I liked him more now because he’d lightened up and really grown into his body, filling out and gaining a natural padding that looked sexy on him. Before Randall, I’d been fucking a twink who was all slender grace, and I’d enjoyed his delicate body immensely.

But this guy? He was something else.

I watched him walk a little way away from the tree and stand there, framed against the sunrise. The more I looked, the more I realised he wasn’t as broad-shouldered as I’d thought. He just gave the impression of being… solid.

His loose white shirt fluttered in the breeze and gave me tantalising glimpses of the flat planes of his chest. Had that groan come from me?

If his chest was as sculpted as his legs, I wanted to see it. Those legging-type trousers he was wearing were doing a lot of work in highlighting the swell of his thigh muscles.

That time, I knew the groanhadcome from me. I pressed my palm against my growing erection, not even sure whether I was trying to ease it into a more comfortable position until it went down or whether I was about to just reach inside my jeans and jerk off. Fuck, I’d never felt such a visceral reaction from justlookingat someone before.

I was so stunned that I didn’t move in time. I just stood there stupidly until the sun rose up and blinded me, concealing my new fantasy in its glare. That was when I started forward. But by the time I’d hurried across the field, he was gone. I couldn’t see any sign of him at all.

And I looked.

I was right by the house, which was on a slight rise, about thirty metres from the apple tree. There was nothing else around but, no matter where I looked, I couldn’t make out any movement at all. My fantasy had just vanished.

The only proof I had that he’d existed at all was the way my dick pressed hard against my jeans, wanting relief.

???

I went back to the same place the next morning, hoping to see my fantasy stranger again. I was disappointed.

Yes, I’d dreamed about him. Yes, those dreams had been incredibly sexy. Yes, I’d woken up covered in come like a teenager. No, I would never admit that to anyone else.

For some reason, those stupid legging things had done it for me. I remembered the swell of his thighs like I’d had hours to study them, even though I must have seen them for about a minute in total.

The disappointment I felt was crushing, even though I told myself it was ridiculous. I’d seen one stranger walking around a field and suddenly I wanted to chase him down and marry him? Like I said: ridiculous.

Still, my footsteps were slower as I went up the gentle hill to the tree.

I went there early in the morning for the next few days, each time hoping to see my fantasy stranger, and each timeI was bitterly disappointed. My dreams were not helping the situation. By that time, I’d probably distorted my memory of him to make him more gorgeous than he was. Probably, I’d embellished my memory to make his shoulders wider and his legs longer and those thighs stronger…

God, those thighs…

But it was probably all in my imagination. If I ever did see him again, he’d probably be very plain and disappointing. Best to have him only appear in my dreams, after all.

That didn’t stop my heart jolting with a flash of excitement when I walked out early one morning and saw a figure standing near Randall’s tree. My pace picked up and I practically ran across the field, my hand up against the glare of the rising sun, until I realised that the silhouette was too broad for my fantasy man, and wearing very ordinary, boring clothes, just like mine.

It was Broadmire.

He stood near the tree and was gazing across at the big house. I had to admit, at its core, it was a beautiful old building with large stone walls and a red-tiled roof. Houses might not be my thing but I could see this one had a solid foundation and was more than a soulless box. This house had character. It was just that I didn’t like it that much, that was all.

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