Perform the Rookie's Pitch
From Create Your Own Story
Suddenly, and without warning, completely unexpectedly, you launch through the air, spinning so that you immediately forget which directions are up and down. You come roughly into contact with a most certainly female body -- from the oof, you guess the redhead -- and take her into your flight, tangled limbs radiating like battens.
Your tumbling comes to rest abruptly, but mentally you are still settling. Willie's coveralls are still stuck on your head, so you can't see. Gusts rattle the cornstems around you. You hear the redhead groan a little. She seems on top of you, more or less. "Are you okay?" you ask, your voice trapped around your ears by the coveralls.
She shifts slightly and you feel a visceral and yet disembodied sense of rightness stir, trickle in like tapwater, a beneficient goodwill toward all things, the mosquito buzzing the ear's tower, the dormouse in the granary, the perpetually available and conflicted virgin.
The redhead shifts again and overgratuitous clemency billows across your heart like a schooner. Has peace broken out in the Middle East? Clearly the barons of the oil corporations must have taken the lesson of Spider-Man's origin story to heart. Pancakes, eggs and jam must have suddenly appeared on the tables of hungry children everywhere. Surely the Earth's orbit around the Sun has shifted in some subtle way that writes mercy and harmony on the very fabric of the void!
Through your suddenly joyful breathing your hear, "Oh my.. oh my god." It's the redhead. You feel a clumsy hand on the coveralls and then you are blinking in the light. She's straddling you. She's pulled Willie's pants off your face. One little red sleeve has slipped to her bicep and the breast on that side has fallen luminously out. Beneath her tangled curly red mop, the expression on her face seems dizzy.
"Are you.. feeling it too?" you ask reverently.
She shivers abruptly and her mouth opens as her eyes meet yours. A ripple trills briskly across the endowment mounting your heart, as if a million voices cried out in joy to find they were suddenly and mysteriously possessed of subscriptions to two or even three very-high-quality food magazines, and the free time to try all the really interesting recipes. "Feeling it?" she asks. You nod. The redhead moves a little more, seems almost unable to speak, then says, "If you are.. referring to your enormous cock.. in my ass, then.. yes. Yes, I am feeling it."
"Get out!" you blurt in disbelief. But then you engage in some quick mental reconnaissance. Why yes, in fact, it does seem your erection is.. inside something. A rather tight something.
"Get out. That might be what she said."
"Wait!" You take her arms and hold her with the happiest fingers in the world. "You know what I'm talking about! Not this," your hips dig up, bouncing her on top of you, "but this," and you nestle your hand over her heart, which, like all women, also happens to be between her tits. Or maybe a little to one side, not quite perfectly between them. Though you find little imperfections very endearing.
A tiny, painful oh, halfway between a moan and a whimper, escapes her from your bounce and she freezes, her eyes tight. You say, "I hurt you. I'm sorry."
"A little," she says. "But it's also.. amazing. I do, I do feel.." She leans her chest into your hand, once, again, breathing. "Too, too amazing.. It doesn't" -- a little lateral motion like a cadence undulates across her hips and she exhales hard, Mmfh..! -- "..make sense."
"Don't make sense," you say, your arms creeping around, coaxing, gathering her down.
"Ducky.. the car. She'll take the car, we'll be stranded in the middle of nowhere."
| Status | ||
| Health | Horny | Location: |
| MP | 0 | |
| Level | 1 | |
