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.
