Sloan Peabody – known by the guys as Peewee despite nudging six-foot – sighed as night fell knowing he was in for another depressing lonely night. Guys called Peewee rarely ran with the pack and with a name like Sloan Peabody he knew no babes intimately.
In his late twentieth year, Sloan remained a virgin. His mother knew it but wouldn't go beyond a hand-job, his sister Pam was close to giving it to him when she met Kevin and now only came home to rest her pussy.
Sloan tossed and turned and then tossed some before removing his hand. He was so restless that he decided to go for a moonlight walk through Wilderness Park. He called on Meg but she eyed him and didn't move when he said 'Walkies'; the Labrador preferred to walk with other members of the family.
Kicking the dog basket, Sloan slouched off into the night and into his Great Adventure.
* * *
"Hello young man," croaked the old woman selling soda pop at the gates of Wilderness Park. Who the fuck would be buying a soda at this time of night, Sloan thought, handing across the money for a honey-flavored purchase. He walked on, opened the cap and looked back but couldn't see the booth or the soda lady. He took a swig.
Fuck, what shit was in with the soda – Speed? He felt electrified with rippling muscles, which was a bit of a laugh. Muscles – ha! The next thing he knew his trousers had tented. Sloan reached down gingerly to his embarrassingly peewee five and a half inch 'monster' as the guys in the showers jeeringly called it. His immediate thought was soda pop with Viagra: it was thicker and longer.
Unzipping, Sloan found he had his dream in his hand – eight and a half inches and a cool four inches thick. Joy but not of the feminine kind possessed his body. He suspected his mom would now be keen to fuck him.
A horse snorted.
A horse in Wilderness Park? It was a horse, a black horse with just a bridle, and it pointed in his direction of travel. He sweated, wondering if the mare was waiting to test his remodeled dick. To avoid the issue he jumped on her back, taking care to keep his newly enlarged gear clear and they were off. He'd only ever ridden a fiberglass pony at the County Fair but this horse seemed to know what to do with him.
They whisked through the trees, often leaving the path without mishap, taking a northerly direction until they came to a clearing grouped with quaint looking cottages.
"The Horseman Cometh," boomed the village crier. Women screamed and in the moonlight Sloan saw people rushing into their cottages; doors slammed and candles were snuffed. Candles? Well it was unlikely Wilderness Park was electrified – what was the point?
The black horse skidded to a halt in the village square. Sloan flew over her head and landed on his feet in perfect balance in front of an eighteen year old female tied to a stake. He fancied he heard applause from the cottages for his acrobatic flip.
Sloan was embarrassed: he was still tented.
The girl in white looked down at him in naked admiration. "Unzip and make me a woman, Sire."
What sort of talk was that? thought Sloan, unzipping.
"Plow me Sire."
He didn't really know what to do but she did and soon had him pumping like a maniac. He filled her, she groaned and he knew he was good for taking a whole park full of virgins.
He bade her farewell. He what? Sloan shook his head and was about to mount the mare (across her back, silly) when the ex-virgin cried: "Finish the job, take me from the back Sire."
What? She wanted it up her back passage. Sloan swallowed and wondered how people could be so foul. What would his mom say if he attempted to take her by the back chute? But the challenge was too great to resist and, well, hadn't his mom always said, 'Sloan, if there's one thing you must do in life and that is to learn to please a lady'. That was a bit heavy to be told when you're four, but he guessed this present situation was the reason for that motherly advice than all mothers ingrain in their sons. So he shafted the butt, groaning, because she was s-o-o-o tight. The massive ejaculation blew her free of her bounds and through the air into her cottage; the door had opened in perfect timing.
He and his Black Beauty – er, how childish – he and Ranger galloped through the night in their mission of community service. Sloan had never seen so many villages in the park – in fact he'd never seen a single dwelling in all the years he'd walked its depths, always alone. He rammed a virgin at every one of them.
Finally Ranger brought Sloan to a massive castle and he heard the Captain of the Guards call out, "Ah, here is Sloan alone with Ranger." The partly deaf blacksmith shafting a serving wench who was servicing him with great skill, bellowed, "Eh, what's this then I hear about the Sloan Ranger?"
The captain and his men, peeing on the sacks of wheat brought in after dusk by courier serfs, laughed like an operatic chorus which induced the castle jester to chortle, "The Sloan Ranger; that's a laugh." And so the legend of The Sloan Ranger was born because it was overhead by a gay reporter from the 'Castle Memo' stroking his buddy from the kitchen.
"Help, help," came the call from the castle tower. Everyone came out and looked up.
"It's Princess Gweneth," called the Captain of the Guards, "Under threat of the Virginity Plague Attack. Come men, into barracks to plan a safe strategy to rescue the Princess unharmed."
"Oh look – the gallant Sloan is mounting a death-defying rescue attempt," the castle mortician said mournfully, rubbing his hands expectedly.
Sloan had commenced hauling himself up a vinyl down-pipe from Princess Gweneth's tower boudoir en suite. The Planning Commission had stupidly declared such a location for her apartment would be impregnable against the virginal virus.
It was a dangerous climb as the outer walls were shafted with six-inch defensive spikes. However, Sloan's now well-used eight-and-a-half inch permanent erection kept him just clear of those deadly spikes. As it became clear that the virgin princess would be saved, people throughout the forest rushed to witness this historic rescue that would rate as one of the greatest stories ever told.
