cgraven
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Sep 6, 2001
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This is a closed thread for Mist S and cgraven read along and enjoy..
Things are not always as they seem and stories soon take on a life of their own the more they are told, and so it is with this tale. We all know the often told tale of the head strong young girl, good of heart, who did not heed the words of wisdom of her parents, and did talk to, and did tarry with the stranger. But what if the story was wrong, had another side , say the side of the stranger. Has any one asked him what transpired? Nay the word of that charming young Miss with her peaches and cream complexion was all that was needed to condemn him.
The baying of hounds, the searchers crashing through the near by brush, he held his position in the dark undergrowth his heart hammering in his chest, his breathing coming fast and labored. His old, knowing eyes, darting from sound to sound, he prayed that they not find him, then the lowing of the hounds, they had his trail and they where coming fast.
“Dear God No”.
He whispered to him self then bolted from cover.
There…..Over There”
Came the cry of the huntsman his horn calling his fellows, the hounds baying, and they where again on his trail again. He ran headlong into the forest its branches clawing at him trying to hold his old gray coat as they closed in n him. It was so senseless a trivial misunderstanding after all. His mind flashed back to the beginning that pleasant warm sunny day, that day he first met her.
“Red Ridding Hood.”
Things are not always as they seem and stories soon take on a life of their own the more they are told, and so it is with this tale. We all know the often told tale of the head strong young girl, good of heart, who did not heed the words of wisdom of her parents, and did talk to, and did tarry with the stranger. But what if the story was wrong, had another side , say the side of the stranger. Has any one asked him what transpired? Nay the word of that charming young Miss with her peaches and cream complexion was all that was needed to condemn him.
The baying of hounds, the searchers crashing through the near by brush, he held his position in the dark undergrowth his heart hammering in his chest, his breathing coming fast and labored. His old, knowing eyes, darting from sound to sound, he prayed that they not find him, then the lowing of the hounds, they had his trail and they where coming fast.
“Dear God No”.
He whispered to him self then bolted from cover.
There…..Over There”
Came the cry of the huntsman his horn calling his fellows, the hounds baying, and they where again on his trail again. He ran headlong into the forest its branches clawing at him trying to hold his old gray coat as they closed in n him. It was so senseless a trivial misunderstanding after all. His mind flashed back to the beginning that pleasant warm sunny day, that day he first met her.
“Red Ridding Hood.”