"Indeed!" Sweatshirt was more vocal, but they were both enthusiastic. In a minute they'd backed the trailer up to the edge of the pile, and we were shoveling away like steam engines. Cindy (the one in the overalls) was down near the tailgate, shoveling the tailings the last few feet, and I stood about 4 feet up the slope, launching big scoops of mulch downhill and mostly into the trailer. So that I could keep an eye on her, and not hit her with my pitchfork, I was standing on the left side of the little trailer, while she was on the right. From there I could see what I was doing but she couldn't see much besides the mulch at her feet, and my dick right in front of her face. We had to stay somewhat synchronized so it wouldn't hit her AND so that she wouldn't catch a faceful of mulch. She couldn't stop grinning because I had such a hard-on festooned with powdery brown mulch dust and it was flailing around like crazy as my torso flexed and tourqued with every shovelful.
"You look like a big hairy gorilla!" she called out.
"Yah, you're so furry, it's almost decent." Sweatshirt called up from the front of the trailer where she was raking up overflow. (Sweatshirt's name was Sarah.) "Nobody would even know you're completely naked... except for the giant boner!"
It was a little trailer. In no time we were done.
"I guess that should do it, eh? Nice job." I said. I paused, hands resting on the pitchfork which was stabbed in the mulch in front of me, covering nothing. At that moment I was feeling really comfortable, a kind of camaraderie. It was like I was doing them a small service. Like they'd hired me for a job and I did it well and now the nudity seemed natural: part of the job. No big deal. Even my erection seemed natural enough to be unremarkable. Of course I was aroused, nothing wrong with that!
I even think they felt the same. Overalls (was that Sarah? No, Cindy) threw her shovel into the trailer on top of the mulch and turned back to me: "Well..." That was it. No other words. She gave a nod and a smile & just paused, enjoying the situation for a moment.
I twisted my hips slightly, on purpose, so my cock swung over and bounced off of the pitchfork's shaft.
"Careful there, you might break your pitchfork." Cindy smiled as she fired that at me.
"Wow, what a nice thing to say." I replied. How LAME, what made me say that? It was true but still. She made an awesome flirtatious taunt and I took it as a literal compliment. Somehow it changed the tone.
"Yeah, well you deserve it for helping us so much. Come down here now and let me see which shaft is harder."
Sarah piped in, "Let's wash him off and play with him."
"I don't know, I'm pretty dirty..."
"We don't have to wash ALL of you..."
"Oh, I've got an idea" (Sarah this time), "let's go get the sophomores and make this the writing prompt!"
By now it was getting late, 5:00 and the center was closed. One lonely car pulled out of the lot below as the attendant for the power tool library exchange went home for the day. It was September and there were mountains, so sunset would be soon, maybe before 5:30 tonight.
Cindy was all over this idea, whatever it was. "Yah that's great! Mark, can you stay a little bit? We've got a few beers and this is a GREAT idea."
She went on to explain it and that plus a cold beer caught my interest. Sarah walked over to the Forester, while Cindy walked over and sat down on the pile next to me, talking...
Looking over towards the sunset, and accepting a beer from Sarah, Cindy began, "See, we do a writing sample every year."
Sarah cut in, "We're always looking for a unique way to kick this off, and what could be better than this, eh?"
We were just sitting there in the pile as though we were in easy chairs up near the top, feet out with a beer cracked open. Cindy was sitting hip to hip with me, leaning back and watching the sunset.
"What's 'this" exactly?" I asked.
"THIS, silly," asked Cindy, reaching over and flicking my throbbing cock off of my belly a couple of times for emphasis. She left her hand there and began idly playing with it. I certainly wasn't gonna do anything to stop that so I just sat there like nothing unusual was happening, and took a swig of my beer, still wondering what they meant.
I didn't need to wonder, Sarah was gonna explain it all, apparently.
She turned to me to complete the thought, looking back and forth between me and my dick, occasionally gesturing for emphasis... "Cindy and me run a writer's sorority at CU. It's like a regular living group, but everybody has to be in the literature or arts program, and at the start of the Sophomore year, all the new pledges have to write a short summer story for a contest. You can bring your own story in at the start of the semester or, for the lazy girls who don't get it done all summer, we have a writing prompt and a hardcore weekend writing camp for everyone to finish off their story. It's this weekend."
I snarked, "Sounds nightmarish. Does anybody join this sorority?"...and took another sip.
Cindy punished me with a painful squeeze. "Lots!" she yelped. "We've got 8 sophomores this year and probably half of them haven't completed their summer stories. The writing prompt is already set up in the back yard and it's a pile of colorful empty paint cans. It's gonna suck."
"Yah," said Sarah. "It's gonna suck. But instead..." said Sarah slowly, stepping forward and lacing fingers with Cindy on top of my dick... "this time we could make the mulch pile be the writing prompt."
"Let's bury him like a chocolate covered cherry!"
"You can't bury me, I'll die."
"Just half way! Just up to your junk."
"Just up to his belly button, with a little bit of penis peeking out.
"Hmm, I'm not sure I want to be a pin-up model," I worried, "...those pictures will end up everywhere."
"No not pictures, we do it right here right now in person. I'll go get the girls and some booze and candles and we'll come right here and do the prompt."