Conceal yourself in the corn and loosen your pants
From Create Your Own Story
You angle your limping a bit to the right and, keeping your eye on the hypnotizing derriere preceeding you, enter the waving corn at a different spot, several steps behind the redhead. You immediately start to work open your fly. It's hard to walk and get hold of the button on your pants at the same time; your swollen man-link snugs the fabric firmly against the button in your otherwise already tight jeans and it's hard to get your fingertips around it. You continue limping forward, slowly, not really watching where you're going, straining, squeezing your fingertips against your pants and the pipe laying in them, hunching over to angle your grip better, grunting.
After a moment, the redhead's voice calls over the soughing of the corn. It's kind of hard to hear over the wind in the cornstalks, even though she must be close. "What?"
You hear, "Where are you?"
"Um.. I'm just going to look.. over this way," you call. You're getting your fingers around the button! Oops, dammit.
"Stay close. We shouldn't spread out," she calls. You imagine staying close enough to spread her legs with your hips and her pussy with the angry goose in your trousers.
Just as your scrotum tightens a bit more at the thought, you get the button free! Praise Presley! That was the hard part. Your cock throbs against the zipper like a genie in a bottle. In another second you have the zipper yanked open and your briefs down around your balls and your penis is drinking in the fresh air like Rapunzel on her balcony after a visit to the salon for a new do. You stretch your back straight again and then arch back as the blood whooshes through your head, echoing the rustling grain.
As your pulse quiets, your first thought is: You know what, man, fuck these pants! But getting rid of them will mean having to take off your boots. Before you do that, you look around for the first time.
You're tall but the stalks are up to your eyes. In a way it's easier to see under them than over them, but you can't see very far either way. The glossy leaves and puffy, pale amber tassles press and move continually from the breeze. The soil where you can see it is black and soft from irrigation, speckled with stray off-white shreds of old vegetation. You're starting to think that coming in here was a bad way to find the redhead's friend. It'll be winter before this is a bad place to hide.
"Where the fuck are you?" the redhead calls.
"Over here," you say, the most helpful thing possible. "Hey, what am I looking for, anyway?"
"Brunette." Then, just a few steps farther into the field, you see a shoe in the dirt. A woman's shiny black pump. That doesn't look like farmer garb.
"Could you wave your goddam arms or something?" You wave your arms over your head. "Can't see! Wave better!" You wave and jump too. You catch a glimpse of red hair not too far away. When you land on your feet, your erection dances around a 10 degree orientation. "Behind you!" you shout, waving.
The redhead calls, "I see, I'm coming over there."
Jumping in the blustery corn and feeling your cock bounce up and down in the crossbreeze is delightful, Heady, even - a most appropriate adjective. You wave your arms overhead some more and grin at the swing in your stiffy. You jump and spin around, thrusting your hips forward in the arc.
You stop and look around. Was it a trick of the wind? You could swear you heard a giggle nearby, like a girl's. You peer this way and that, but you aren't sure where it came from. Assuming you didn't imagine it.
Then you hear the redhead curse behind you, and the thrash of cornstalks under sudden weight. You stop bouncing. "You okay?" you call. You hear her voice make a sound, owww, and more cursing.
- Keep looking for the owner of that shoe.
- Forget the shoe, just help the redhead.
- Before you do anything, get these damn pants off!
| Status | ||
| Health | Horny | Location: |
| MP | 0 | |
| Level | 1 | |
