From my back porch, I saw Maeve drifting like a ghost across the field behind her folks' house. The full moon's glow illuminated her white nightgown in a scene so eerie that I had to fight back a shiver.

Now where was she off to at just past midnight? The dwelling she'd left was completely dark; in this rural area, most people went to bed before ten. 

A lot of nights, I was up into the early morning hours. Those first few months of being sober had taken a toll on me, as did being all alone, and I slept poorly. My wife (soon to be ex) had left the state back in the spring, but we'd been estranged even while living under the same roof. I didn't blame her for giving up on the marriage, or for refusing to believe me when I swore I'd finally quit drinking. 

On the phone, I'd told her I hadn't touched a drop since May. I was still haunted by her voice over the line, not angry anymore, just tired: "I'm done, Clyde. I'm done." 

Not long after that, I was served with divorce papers.

Perhaps I now hoped to redeem myself by making sure the neighbor girl wasn't getting herself into trouble. At least, that's what I told myself as I headed down the porch steps. My feet were bare, and I wore nothing but a pair of faded jeans. The August air was humid, and a shirt would have trapped the lingering heat against my skin. 

During my episodes of insomnia, I didn't usually sit outside, but the small house had felt particularly claustrophobic that night. It surprised me to see Maeve sneaking out. Of course, I remembered being eighteen and aching to sow my wild oats. But Maeve wasn't an ordinary young woman. She'd been disfigured in an accident, and her parents made sure she lived a sheltered existence. I couldn't blame them; the world was a cruel place, and Maeve had already endured more than her fair share of suffering. 

I worried one of the local boys had paid her some attention in the hopes of getting her cherry. Right now, she was striding toward the back woods bordering the field. Her steps were purposeful, without hesitation. She sure looked like she had some place to be.

I followed her at a safe distance, though I knew she'd be much harder to find once she entered those woods. If she'd looked back just once, she would have instantly spotted me. Maybe I should have called to her in a low voice. I still don't quite understand why I stayed quiet, moving stealthily. 

When Maeve stepped between the trees, I kept my stare focused on that gown. To my consternation, the girl grew still. I froze as well, waiting for her next move.

My eyes widened in shock at the sight of her lifting the nightgown over her head. As she began neatly folding the garment, I couldn't resist gazing at her bare bottom, for she wore no underwear. She turned, ever so slightly, to place the gown at the base of a tree, and I was rewarded with a glimpse of her left breast.

With it being so dark, I could discern little detail of her naked body, but what I saw was enough to make my cock harden. Terrified of being spotted, I waited for her to turn completely away from me again. Then I ducked behind an oak large enough to conceal me from view. It was at the very edge of the woods, right where the field ended.

A bit of moonlight worked its way through the trees ahead, and my eyes adjusted more to the inky shadows. Maeve seemed completely at home out here, as if she'd done this countless times before. 

My breath hitched in my chest when the girl sank to her knees; leaves that had fallen over the years to litter the forest floor provided a cushion for her. Now, her profile was revealed to me, and I again studied the outline of her breast. Not all that large, it was a pale globe I longed to cradle in my palm. 

But it was Maeve who cupped her breasts while releasing a moan that could only be described as sexual. Her fingers toyed with her nipples, pulling and twisting them. Her long, dark hair fell down her back in waves, and she tilted her head upward, as if she wanted to bay at the sky. She normally kept her gaze on the ground, hiding the scars on her face behind that curtain of hair. But tonight, she was free. Free as a wild creature that roamed the woods.

My own arousal was rapidly growing; by this point, my dick was plenty hard. Though shame heated my cheeks, I rubbed myself through my jeans. Maeve wasn't even fifteen feet from me, yet I couldn't resist playing with my cock. I was dying to free it from the confines of my clothes.

Choking back a lust-filled groan, I watched her slip a hand between her thighs. She started touching herself, her fingers moving furiously. Over the massive din of insects, I imagined I could hear how wet she was. 

Her hips rocked with a sensual rhythm that drove me half-mad. My God, I wanted her! When I could finally bear no more, I unbuttoned my jeans, then eased down the zipper. In seconds, my erection was in my hand. Breathing faster, I stroked off, my stare riveted to the woman before me.

She released faint cries and whimpers, driving herself to climax. I feared I'd shoot my load as soon as she reached that peak. It had been months since my wife and I had fucked. If someone had asked me which I missed more, booze or sex, I would have been hard pressed to give an answer.

I don't know what I did to alert Maeve to my presence. Maybe I shifted my feet the slightest bit. Or maybe my sigh was too heavy with blatant arousal. 

I froze when she whipped her head around and cried out, "Who's there?"

Fearing she would scream, I said in a low voice, "It's just me, Maeve."

She gasped, almost losing her balance while scrambling to her feet. "Clyde, what are you doing here?" 

"I watched you leave your house and head this way. I wanted to make sure you were alright." I knew I looked like a fool, half-hiding behind the tree so she wouldn't spot my erection. 

But she was too intent on retrieving her nightgown. I stood there helplessly, my dick still looming out from me as she struggled to cover herself.

"Maeve, wait."

I stepped out from my hiding place, my jeans still unfastened and my erection pointing upward. Slowly, I approached her. 

She grew very quiet, almost motionless, making me wonder if she could detect the obvious state of my arousal. Maybe the shadows still concealed it from her. Instead of pulling the dress over her head, she held it clasped to her front in a futile attempt at modesty.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I promised in that same soothing tone. "You've known me forever. You trust me, don't you?"

Though Maeve nodded, the whites of her eyes were visible, her stare wide. Oh yes, she'd caught sight of my exposed cock.

"You're not meeting anyone out here, are you?" I asked.

"No!" she insisted. "I just come here for privacy sometimes."

Inching closer, I didn't stop until only a few feet separated us. In the darkness, I couldn't easily see the scars on her face, and she didn't try to hide them from me. Instead, she gazed down between us, as if unable to look away from my cock.

I dared to take it in my hand again. That gesture drew a faint, guttural sound from her lips.

"I understand why you like to slip into these woods," I murmured. "You're a young woman now, and your body's wanting all sorts of things, isn't it?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"There's nothing wrong with touching yourself the way you did. You know that, don't you?" I addressed her gently even as guilt roiled in my belly. I told myself I needed to leave her be and go back to my house. She was clearly fine out here. 

But I didn't leave her. No, I went on talking in that soft voice. "I'm sorry I watched you, sweetheart. I just got so excited..." The words caught in my throat, for my hand was moving at a more fervent pace now. "And I'm sorry I interrupted you before you had a chance to come. You were so beautiful, playing with your cunt."

My words sent a visible tremor through her. I wondered if her reaction was one of excitement or disgust.

She soon let me know by extending her hand and brushing her fingers against the tip of my cock. As if my skin burned her, she quickly withdrew.

"You can touch me," I coaxed. "I'm sure you must be curious."

Lifting her head, she tried to search my face. Whatever she was able to see in my expression encouraged her to step closer. I took my hand from my erection, only to feel it replaced by hers.

"Ooh, that's nice," I breathed. "See what you've done to me, Maeve?"

Her touch was tentative at first, sometimes halting, but she didn't pull away. Trying to prove I posed no threat, I clasped my hands behind my back. Though my guilt lingered, souring my stomach, I told myself Maeve was safer with me than some boy from town. 

She mimicked the rhythm I'd used, her grasp gentle but firm. I had to grit my teeth to fight back a cry. Seemingly lost in the act of pleasuring me, she allowed her gown to fall, and it was all I could do not to reach for those gorgeous tits.

"Christ, I'm close!" Sweat had broken out on my brow. "Baby, stand to the side of me... yes, like that! Otherwise, I'm liable to get my cum all over you."

At my side, she resumed her stroking. Shame and need warred within me until I thought the orgasm would be wrenched from my body. Turning my head, I saw Maeve looking up at me, the moonlight falling upon her face. Her smile was shy but knowing. 

And then I came with such force that I staggered where I stood. Maeve, clearly startled, let go of my cock, but it made no difference; my seed shot out to stripe the leaves on the ground. 

I took over masturbating, determined to drain my balls dry. A few grunts escaped me, and I gave the tip of my dick a squeeze. That sensation provoked a fierce shudder. Maeve placed a hand on my back as I drew in a sharp breath.

"My God, I needed that!" I said when I was completely spent. Gazing down at Maeve, I flashed a satisfied smile. "Thank you so much, baby."

In response, she moved to stand before me again. I let her take my hand and place it between her thighs. Despite the fact that I'd just come hard, my cock twitched at the feel of her damp pubic hair. 

"Now you do the same for me," she quietly said. 

My mouth dropped open. "I'll be damned. You know just what you want, don't you, girl?"

Maeve took her bottom lip between her teeth, biting back a grin. "Well, you did interrupt me."

"So I did." My fingers deftly worked to part her outer labia and seek the slick, hot treasure within. I wasted no time on teasing, for I knew how eager she was for her own climax. The moment I rubbed her swollen clit, she let out another whimper, then reached to grab onto my shoulders.

With my still-hard dick nestled between us, I wrapped an arm around her waist. When I used a bit more pressure to stimulate her pearl, she pressed her lips to my chest to muffle a cry.

"You like that, don't you?" I spoke in a growl. 

"Yes! Oh, God!" Already, she was shaking, and her hips began a wild undulation.

"Feels even better than when you do it yourself, doesn't it?" 

"Yeah," Maeve panted. "It feels so good!"

I moved my fingers faster, and faster still, delivering constant pleasure to that tender bud. I felt Maeve's tongue on my skin, along with her hot breath. 

"Come for me!" I urged.

She stiffened in my embrace, as if every muscle in her body had drawn taut. The orgasm was so powerful that I could easily sense each spasm overtaking her. I laughed with my own pleasure when her hips bucked toward me. 

Only after Maeve's trembling had mostly subsided, and her cries had quieted, did I slip both arms around her. "Feel better now?" I whispered, with my lips lowered to her hair.

She readily hugged me back. "Much better." 

Together, we tenderly swayed, as if we were one of the trees caught in the night's breeze. In that moment, it didn't matter that I'd sneaked out here uninvited; it didn't matter that Maeve was half my age.

"I don't want you to feel guilty about this," I said, though I didn't know if I was trying to convince her or myself. "We didn't do anything wrong tonight."

"I know." Unlike me, she sounded certain. 

Once I put away my cock and she pulled on her gown, I gave her a sweet, lingering kiss. During our walk back to her house, I could still feel the warmth of her lips on mine. I waited until she was safely inside, then returned to my own house and slept better than I had in months.

Maybe it was wrong of me to follow her into the woods that night. But if I hadn't, she never would have shown up at my door only a few nights later. And I never would have stayed sober through the fall and winter, and all the years to come.

In short, I never would have had the chance to ask Maeve to marry me.

And she never would have had a reason to say yes.