Peter Priper

I went down to the island. The kids were at their mother's, and work was slow enough that no one had emailed me all morning. There was no one to bug me, but also not much to do. It was a sunny day, and I figured I'd sit on the beach and read, watch the sailboats parade by, sneak glances at the girls in their bikinis.

There wasn't a lineup for the ferry so much as a massive blob squeezing itself through the gates. I had to wait for forty-five minutes in the sweaty stink of people. So when I got to the island I set off for the eastern end, away from the crowds. There'd be a quiet spot of beach there.

I passed the little amusement park, where kids ride what must be the world's lamest Ferris wheel. At least if it conks out and someone gets stuck on top, you can almost get them down with a household ladder. Past that was a field dotted with day sites for barbecuing. A family had piled up their goods at one to reserve it. A grey-haired man was napping in a lawn chair. The rest of the family would be off having fun somewhere.

Near the edge of the field was a little copse, and it was about ten yards from that that I saw it. It was a little hare that scampered across the field towards the trees. There was something blue wrapped around its torso by its forelegs, like a vest. It darted about two feet away from me, and I could have sworn I heard it mumble, "Oh, no, I'm going to be late, I'm going to be late."

I stood there, frozen in shock, and I think I said, "You're fucking kidding me" out loud. The hare disappeared into the trees.

I followed it. Because one of the unbreakable rules of the life is: if by chance you happen to encounter a talking rabbit, you follow the rabbit. You don't just keep on walking, saying "Well, I'll be! I dare say, that was a talking rabbit!"

So I headed into the copse and saw the rabbit disappear into a gap between two hedges. It was just about big enough for me to squeeze through. I made it about ten feet before I had to reconsider my plan. The gap was narrowing at the top, and long thorns hid in the leaves. I couldn't walk through anymore, but it looked like there was enough space for me to crawl.

I set down my bag - it'd just get caught in the branches - and got down on my hands and knees and started crawling. I felt like an idiot. A thorn scratched my shoulder, and I thought, this is stupid. You're a grown man crawling through a thornbush because you think you saw a talking rabbit.

New life rule. Do not follow the fucking rabbit. I swore at myself for being such a moron and started backing out of the hedge.

There was a sharp pain in my right testicle and I yelped. I managed to twist my head around without impaling myself on anything, and saw it - a sharp thorn right behind me that had gone right through my shorts and pricked me in the ball.

"For fuck's sake," I said. Apparently if I was going to get out of here, it was forward. So I kept crawling. I could feel my cock swelling up - not exactly erect yet, but like it was getting ready to. Great, I thought. I'm a grown man who'll be crawling out of a hedge with a bulge in his pants.

After another ten feet or so I came out. To my relief, I wasn't right on a path with a family, young children, and judgy old people standing there to gape at me. I was in a little grassy clearing. On the far edge there was a path, but no one was on it.

I stood up, brushed the dirt off my knees, gave my balls a quick rub, and tried to adjust myself in my shorts. I was definitely getting hard. I never knew before that I had a pricked-in-the-junk-while-crawling-through-bushes fetish.

I started looking for a way back around hedge to my bag when I heard voices. I sort of casually hid behind a tree - you know, without looking like I was hiding behind a tree. But I wanted this boner to go down before anybody saw me.

Three girls walked into the clearing. They looked maybe twenty, and all three were gorgeous. But what shocked me was what they were wearing. You don't see outfits like that, especially not in the days of camera phones.

The first one was a redhead. Her dress consisted of two panels on her front and back, held together by a tie around her waist. She turned to say something to her friends (which I'd report, but damn, I was not paying attention to that) and the side of her breast was right there, exposed. I think I could catch a glimpse of her nipple, and the edge of her buttock down below it.

The second one had long dark hair. She had on a little white dress with tiny blue stars. The material was thin enough that I could tell she wasn't wearing a stitch underneath. Her nipples were little dark circles.

But the third one was my favourite. She had blonde hair in one of those pixie cuts, I think you call it. She had on tiny skintight black shorts and a loose top that was completely sheer. Her breasts were largeish but still pert, with pink nipples.

The blonde flopped down on the ground. The redhead sat down next to her, confirming that she was not wearing a thing under that little dress. Her pussy was pink and hairless.

I felt my shorts getting tight. Now I'd gone from an embarrassing bulge to a raging boner. It pushed so hard against my shorts it hurt.

I didn't know what to do. If I tried to leave I was sure they'd see me. But I couldn't just stay there in the bush. I was already wincing from the pain in my pants.

The redhead bent over the blonde. Her dress hung down, leaving maybe an inch between the fabric and her little nipples. In the back it barely came down enough to cover her pussy. The dark-haired one was standing over them, with the sun behind her, so that her dress was almost invisible and all I could see was the silhouette of her naked body.

My cock was so hard it was like they were building a new Washington Monument in my crotch. I thought I could hear the stitches bursting in my shorts. I couldn't stand it any more. I'm not a perv who hides behind trees jerking off, I told myself. I'm just a guy with healthy appetites who's in a very uncomfortable situation.

I pulled out my dick.

Just a couple strokes, I thought, and I'll blow my load. But as soon as I had it out, a man riding a horse appeared on the path. I crouched down, sure he would see me. I started wondering what jail was like. Probably not fun.

The man on the horse was shirtless. He was young, too, about the girls' age. He stopped and called to them. "You coming or what?"

"Yes, Frank, we're coming," said the dark-haired girl.

The horse trotted off. Relieved at not getting caught, I started stroking myself. The redhead stood up and straightened out her dress - which was a shame, because it'd gotten so off kilter at the bottom her buttcrack was almost showing. The blonde sighed and said, "They're so boring."

"It's mandatory, Retta," said the dark-haired girl. "You know what 'mandatory' means?"

"Yes," said Retta. "It's when Frank grabs your ass."

The other two giggled. "That's 'manhandle'," said the redhead. "And you like it when he does."

"I do not!" Retta sat up. "I just fucked him the one time. And the other time. It doesn't mean I want him fondling my ass every day."

Laughing, the other two went to the path. The dark-haired girl turned back - the silhouette of her little breast made me feel like I was going to explode - and said, "Well? It's mandatory."

Retta lay back down on the grass. "I'm going to be fashionably late."

The other two girls left. I stood up, very quietly, to get a better view of Retta's breasts as she lay there. I kept rubbing myself and I felt like I was right on the verge of coming, but I didn't. My dick was throbbing. It was so hard it ached.

Retta lay there for a few minutes, then stood up. She started walking towards my end of the clearing. I panicked - I knew she was going to catch me. I shoved my dick up under my shirt and pulled up my pants as best I could. It didn't hide much, but it was better than having my junk hanging out. The fabric of my shirt rubbed against the underside of my head and I wondered if I was going to blow my load all over the inside of my own shirt.

Retta walked right past me and I swear she even looked at me, but she didn't see me. Somehow she didn't see me. There were some strawberry plants by the edge of the hedge, and she bent over to pick some. I knew I should just run before she noticed I was there. But I stared at her ass under those shorts, and I noticed I was rubbing my head through my shirt. Please, I thought, please just let me come and get this over with.

Retta stood up, her hand full of plump ripe strawberries. She turned towards me, her breasts in full view, and popped one into her mouth. Her fingers were reddish from the juice. I wanted to bust my cock right through her hand, spraying strawberry juice all over her, and rip those shorts off her with one hand like Conan the Barbarian might.

She seemed to be looking right over my shoulder. Like she was pretending I wasn't there? I took my hand away from my cock - it leaned against my shirt, ridiculously. I tried to hold my hands in front of me casually, but covering it up. I cleared my throat a little, and mumbled, "Sorry."

She suddenly focused on me and gave a little squeal. "You came out of nowhere."

"Sorry," I said. "I'm, um, lost."

She snickered. "And having some trouble there?" She pointed to my stomach. Or probably not my stomach; probably to the huge erection that was pressing against my shirt.

"I'm not a pervert," slipped out of my mouth.

She walked over to me, and I contemplated whether I should run away. But I was only using about 5% of my brainpower to make decisions. 50% was devoted to staring at her so that I didn't miss a single inch of that gorgeous body, and 45% was imagining ploughing into her from behind. She smiled. "It's all right. You're not the only priper here."

"What?"

"Priper. You know, can't get it down." She giggled for a second. "Come on, let me have a look. Did this just start?"

"Well," I said, "when you came by dressed like that."

"Is that so?" She unbuttoned my shirt. My penis fell out, brushing against her hands and practically right up against her stomach. She giggled. "Yes, you're a brand new priper."

If I just pushed forward with my pelvis the tip of my penis would rub up against her sheer blouse. I tried hard not to do it. My God, I thought, I need to get this thing inside you or I'm going to shoot all over your clothes.

"If I caused it," she said, "it's my responsibility to fix it, right?"

I nodded, and she leaned in and kissed me. I grabbed her, and pushed myself against her. "Wait," she said, and took off her blouse. "I don't want to get these messy."

I squeezed her breasts and kissed her as she slid off her little shorts. She was completely shaved - waxed, probably, there wasn't a hint of hair in that area. I brought a hand down to her ass. It was soft and perfect. I went a little lower and brushed a finger against her lips. They were hot and already moist.

Are we just going to do this here in public? I thought, but if I asked I would waste precious kissing time. I brought my lips to her neck, then her chest, and licked at her nipples until they were stiff. She pushed off my shorts and stroked me.

We kept kissing and fondling each other. I brought a hand to her front and rubbed her clitoris in little circles, every few repetitions pushing down to stroke her lips. I thought, any second now I'll come. But after a while Retta pushed me back and got me to sit down against a tree. She brought her mouth down onto my cock. She slid up and down, tonguing me. I moaned in delight.

She sat up, idly rubbing her saliva into my cock. "Let's not waste this boner," she said. "One rule, though. Don't come inside me."

"Got it."

"I mean it. I'll be dripping for the rest of the day, so you better not 'forget'. Just a second." She stood up, pushed her fingers into her pussy, and pulled something out. I assumed it was a tampon. But she laid it on the grass and I saw it was a little wad of rolled-up Euro bills.

I stared at her, and she said, "What? That outfit doesn't have any pockets."

I pulled her down to me, kissed her, put both hands on her hips and pushed myself into her from behind.

She was tight, unbelievably tight. It took a few strokes to get all the way in her. It was like being stroked by a silk glove. I thought I should pull out - I was sure I was going to explode - and yet I didn't. She moaned, and brought my hands over to her breasts.

After a few minutes I was convinced I was about to come. I'd been building to this level of complete ecstacy, like I was just starting to orgasm and had been ever since I put it in her. So I pulled out and took it in hand, hoping I could blow all over her ass. But nothing happened. It was like someone had shoved a cork in the end of my dick.

She chuckled. "Almost there." And she straddled me and we kept on fucking. Every second I kept thinking I was going to come, and she moaned harder and harder. And somehow, despite everything, she came before me. She panted and gripped my arms with her hands, and she clamped down on my cock inside her. She straightened up, and I pushed as hard as I could into her, burying myself as deep as I could.

It was like fucking something two sizes too small. I could barely move back and forth.

After a few minutes, I started worrying: I can barely move back and forth. I looked at her face. She had this sort of embarassed look, and scratched her ear.

I pushed up on her hips and tried to slide out. I got maybe an inch out and then it stuck. I pushed until it started to hurt. She winced. "Uh oh."

"Am I seriously - " I tried pulling out again. "Am I stuck?"

She shrugged. "It'll just be for a minute. When you come it's going to be a gusher. You'll slide right out. Or I'll go flying off like a bottle rocket."

So I kept on fucking her. And I still felt like I was just two strokes away from exploding. But I couldn't quite get there, especially now that I could only slide about an inch or so inside her.

She, however, didn't seem to mind. She had me rub at her clit while we fucked, and within ten minutes she was onto her second orgasm. I hoped she would release me then, same way she tightened up on my last time. But it only felt tighter and harder to move afterward.

"Shit," she said. She lay down on top of me, panting. "Are you getting tired?"

"A bit."

"You're not coming out and you're not coming. We should maybe get some help."

I shrugged. I didn't like this getting help idea. I imagined the two of us being led off to an ambulance, wrapped in a bit of sheet for some modesty, children and judgy old people staring. But I didn't like the idea of being stuck in a strange girl's pussy very much either.

"Can you carry me?" she asked.

She reached over, put on her blouse, and grabbed her money. We ignored our shorts, for obvious reasons. Holding her ass in my hands, I managed to get to my feet. We walked back over to the clearing. It was not a comfortable position to be carrying someone, though, let me tell you. My back was already a bit tired from the half-hour or so of thrusting, and carrying her was really making it ache.

I paused at the edge of the path to catch my breath. Here was the big step. I was about to wander naked in public attached at the waist to a girl half my age. I was just starting to work through my embarassment when a man's voice called, "Hey, Retta!"

The speaker looked young, barely eighteen or so. He was shirtless and thin, with the sort of face that looked like it couldn't grow a full beard. He was wearing baggy white shorts, and he was openly playing with himself through them while he stared at us. "Having trouble?" he called.

Retta sighed. "Yes. Could you go get help?"

The boy looked at her for a while. "Better. I can get you off. I know how. He's gone priper, right?"

"If you can help, please do," said Retta.

"Um," said the boy, staring at Retta's ass, his hand in his pants. "So lie down and I'll get you off. Off him, I mean. Well, maybe both ways."

I lay down on my back. The boy pushed Retta down until her ass was sticking up. He pulled down his pants and rubbed some spit onto his cock.

"What are you going to do?" I said.

"Gotta go in her ass, to lever you out."

And he squatted down on top of me and wedged his dick into Retta's ass.

I could feel him inside her. She moaned. We got into a rhythm, him pushing forward and me pulling out, then reverse. He grunted and moaned, and so did Retta. Then he suddenly stopped and exhaled.

"Did you just come?" said Retta.

"Yeah," said the boy. He stood up, his cock glistening in the sunlight. "Guess it didn't work." And he walked off.

"Holy shit!" said Retta. "What a fucking little bastard." She looked over at the grass and winced. "Oh my God, he even stole my money. That piece of shit."

I pushed back and forth. "It helped. I can move a little more now."

Retta lay down on me. "This always happens to me. I'm so stupid. Why did I let him do that?"

I patted her back. "Sorry you feel used. Can we worry about the fact that I'm literally trapped in your pussy?"

"Right. Sorry." She sat up a little so I could pump more freely. "Try to pull it out."

I went back and forth, imagining that each time I was a millimetre further out, and that soon I would be free. But I'm pretty sure I was imagining that. Retta was playing with her clit, getting herself close to her third orgasm. I was getting jealous. I've been fucking for probably an hour now and I can't come, and she's on number three.

Retta was in the middle of her orgasm, panting and moaning, when a voice said, "You are in big trouble. You missed a mandatory meeting."

I looked up. Her two friends were back. They walked over to us. The dark-haired one stood over Retta, and the redhead stood over me, close enough to my head that I could see her beautiful little pussy under that skirt.

"He's stuck inside me," said Retta.

"Are you serious?" said the dark-haired girl. She grabbed Retta by the shoulders and pulled until Retta and I both yelped. "Holy flying fucktards. You two are stuck together."

How the hell have I not come yet? I'm staring up the skirt of a beautiful girl going commando - total fetish of mine - while fucking her gorgeous friend. And yet I can't come, and until I do, apparently, I'm trapped in this vagina.

Retta is the sort of beauty where you'd say, Baby, I love you so much I want to be in your vagina all day. But trust me. You don't.

"Luckily," said the dark-haired girl, "the doctor is in." She opened her tiny little strapless purse and pulled out a lab coat. I blinked. There was no way it could fit in there. She put on the coat, then took a pair of glasses out of the purse and put those on.

"Does your brain not work unless you wear that coat?" said Retta.

"Shut up," said the dark-haired girl. "Take off your blouse so I can check your pulse." She leant over me. "I'm Dr. Trudy Mulheimer."

"Peter," I said. "Pleased to meet you."

Dr. Trudy stroked her chin as she watched me fuck Retta. Then she reached over and fondled Retta's breasts thoughtfully. I felt a little uncomfortable about sneaking peeks up the redhead's skirt while I was being examined. But I did a couple times anyway.

"I see the problem," said Trudy. "Retta's superego wants you to pull out before you come, right? And her id is opposed to this, so it's holding you in." She thought for a second. "Peter, how was your relationship with your mother between ages six and eleven?"

"You're not a real doctor, are you?" I said.

Trudy rolled her eyes. "Fine, repress your feelings about your mother. Nobody cares about the therapeutic process anymore. All they want is instant gratification." She reached into her purse and pulled out a wand, about three times longer than the purse, tipped with a clear globe. She flipped a switch and the globe lit up with purple electricity, like one of those things at the science fair that makes kids' hair stand on end.