Like Warm Sun on Nekkid Bottoms - Charles Austen [124]
“Wow,” she said softly.
“Wow?”
“You’re so handsome.”
I looked down, surprised.
“Thank you.”
“I love your penis.”
“Um—thank you.”
“It has a really nice shape.”
“Glad you like it.”
“Good color, too.”
“You think so?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Thanks.”
“It bends a little to the left.”
“I know. Sorry.”
“No. It’s cute. Did you hurt it somehow?”
“No. It does that on its own.”
“Oh,” she said, studying it further. “It’s really very hard, isn’t it?”
“Pretty much since meeting you. Yeah.”
“Wow.”
“Like it was injected with concrete,” I said. “Men here don’t get like this?”
“Not like that.”
“Desensitization probably. Nudity overdose.”
“Maybe. I just love the way it gets so big around me, so fast. Like I really, really excite you.”
“As no one else possibly could.”
She looked up at my eyes, and there were more tears in hers.
“You are the sweetest man.”
She held out her hands and beckoned me.
“Make love with me.”
“What? Wisper, I…”
“Make love with me. Stand between my legs, push yourself inside me, and hold me like you’ll never let me go.”
I stood for a minute longer than I should have—because it was a minute I could have spent touching her. Finally, I stepped out of my pants and over to her, taking her shoulders, pulling her against me— —and, finally, we kissed.
It was as though she were making love to my lips. My brain began to melt, as our skin, and hands, and bodies exploded into one another. The contact was dazzling. My teeth, tongue, and mouth felt as if they were being cattle-prodded with unconditional love, and the energy spread out from there to every other part of me, hot, tingly, and intense. She took my penis in her hands and began to move it between her spreading legs. I could feel the heat of her on its tip as she began to guide it in, when out of nowhere a voice ripped my skull open and pissed on my brains.
“CORKY!”
I looked up, and Morgan was running my way, chased across the sand by an angry mob of naked teenagers with sticks.
“YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU LEFT ME BACK THERE!”
“NO , YOU IDIOT!” I screamed! “MORGAN, GO AWAY!”
He was still about fifty yards from us now, but I could see he had taken some severe punishment. Body bruised, hair wild, clothes hanging off in rags, no longer concealing much. His pants were gone entirely, and I could see why Ms. Waboombas didn’t think much of him.
“WHAT?” he shrieked. “I’M THE ONE WHO SHOULD BE MAD AT YOU!”
He got closer and scowled, slowly taking things in.
“HEY!” he snapped. “WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?”
He got right up beside me, stopped, and fidgeted nervously while staring at us with confusion. Feeling violated, I stood back from Wisper. The mood, as you can imagine, was somewhat dimmed. Morgan stared down in disgust at my erection.
“Dude! Put that thing away! What is wrong with you?” Embarrassed, I reached down, and began pulling my slacks back on.
“What are you doing?” Wisper asked.
“I’m…” I said, confused by the question. “…getting dressed. People are coming.”
She stared at me blankly as I yanked my pants up over my angry penis. It was so focused on the idea that it might actually, finally, experience its intended purpose in life, that it fought like a special forces soldier to be free so it could complete its mission properly.
Wisper looked at it, tearfully, then back up at me.
“What?” I asked, dumbly.
She said nothing. Just stared.
“Whoa,” Morgan cut in. “You’re the babe from the restaurant. Anyone ever tell you, you’ve got an amazing ass?”
“Yes. Why are those people chasing you?”
He turned and looked back at the onrushing crowd. One of his attackers pointed right at me. It was River, Wisper’s brother.
“YOU!”
“IT’S THE OTHER ONE!” another angry nudist yelled.
And suddenly everyone’s speed through the sand increased. Testicles, penals, and breastals flapped, slapped, and clapped their