Crisp winter air was no match for the coldness of his conscience. Fiery thoughts fueled his rapidly pumping heart. Boiling blood excited him so much that he subconsciously grabbed himself just to feel the throbbing. Licking his lips, he anticipated the pain and humiliation he was about to thrust upon her. Oh, that tasted so good.
Hoping she would pick up her pace and turn along the path's bend to the south, he waited in the brush counting her steps and rubbing his hands together. When she made the turn, he would be behind her. She would never see him coming. It was dark. His clothes were as dark as his heart.