The Harem on the Hill (Part LXXXII) (Patreon)

Tracy emerges from a canopy of trees about fifty yards away and continues down the trail toward where you sit on a sun-soaked bench.  She's dressed similarly to how she was when you first met her: blue sports bra, black jogging shorts, and white tennis shoes with ankle socks.  Her long dark hair, pulled through the back of a white baseball cap, bounces like a horse's mane behind her.

As she approaches, you remove the Skechers from your feet and open a shoebox on the bench containing a new pair of running shoes.

"I thought you didn't like jogging?"  The brunette huffs to a stop beside you, resting her hands on her knees.

"I don't," you say, swapping the laceless slip-ons for the lily-white sneakers.  "But I like the company of joggers, apparently."

Tracy smiles.  It's as bright as your sneakers.  "Opposites attract?"

"Something like that."

"And on the hottest day of the year, too."  The bronzed beauty glances skyward, her sweat-soaked skin glistening in the sun.  "Should I be flattered or concerned?"

"Don't worry about me.  I like to live dangerously."

Tracy watches as you serpentine the laces through the eyelets.  "You really should break those in before you run in them."

"I told you," you say with a smirk.  "I like to live dangerously."

"Fine."  Tracy points to an area by your feet.  "Could you hand me my water?"

You reach beneath the bench to retrieve an insulated blue bottle covered in promotional stickers from a local coffee house you haven't tried.  (Despite Tina's defection, you've stayed loyal to Cornucupia.)  If the frou-frou names of the caffeinated confections advertised are an indication ("Mocha Madness," "Chocolate Lava Latte," "Caramel Delight") they're probably too sweet for your taste anyway.

"Thanks."  Tracy tilts her head back and takes several healthy swigs.  A drop escapes the corner of her mouth and, after pausing at the peak of her strong chin, slips down the slope of her neck.  It gains speed as it gobbles-up sweat until it funnels into the buxom jogger's valley of cleavage.  Your eyes follow its probable path toward her belly, but the snug fit of her sports bra prevents escape.  For now, at least.  Tracy's "winter weight"--the cute poof of fat between the base of her bra and the elastic waistband of her shorts--was rapidly receding.

Tracy hands the bottle back and you return it to the shade beside a jumble of keys you presume to be hers.  "Aren't you worried someone will steal your car?"

"I like to live dangerously, too."   Tracy chuckles.  "Actually, I don't drive."  She extends her slender arm to the treeline, where the brown stucco of an adjacent apartment complex peeps through the foliage.  "That's where I live."

Your gaze drifts from the treeline to the parking lot on the far side of the park.  It's empty save for your Ford Explorer.  "Crap."

"What?"

"I just realized I left my water in the car."

Tracy looks at your half-laced shoes and gives an exaggerated sigh.  "I suppose I'll get it for you."

"Thanks," you say, pulling the keys from your pocket and handing them to her.  "It's somewhere in the backseat."

The brunette rolls her eyes as she turns and jogs away.  "Our first date and you're already trying to get me in the backseat!"

You watch the bubble-butted brunette run down the path a bit before cutting across a grassy knoll that leads to the lot...then you put the sneakers back in the box and return the well-worn Skechers to your feet.  After gathering Tracy's water bottle and keys, you place them in the shoebox with the sneakers, tuck the box beneath your arm, and follow her circuitous route back to your car.

Tracy lies facedown in the backseat, her long legs dangling outside the open door.  After setting the box in the passenger's seat, you quickly retrieve the keys, tuck Tracy's legs inside the vehicle, and shut the door.  Minutes later, you're winding your way back up the mountain to your estate.

As you drive through the emblemized wrought-iron gate that guards your harem, you glance to the backseat.  Tracy remains passed out and, based on the amount of Flunitrazepam you slipped in her water, probably will be for quite a while.  Though you typically allow new recruits to recover in their rooms, there are other options to consider.