The Scarecrow

She was an extremely attractive young woman. He had been watching her all summer. It was unfortunate that she seemed unhappy, alone. He watched her as she tended the garden, the two rows of corn, a few rows of peppers, beans and tomatoes. She normally wore tiny shorts and a tank top with her sexy tits nearly showing through as sweat tricked down her face and chest. She stopped frequently, looking around, as if looking for someone or expecting someone.

Sometimes she walked out wearing the tiniest of bikinis, the small triangles of material barely covering her dark round areola and perky nipples on the front of each C cup breast. At the first of the summer, she’d kept the dark curls on her mound completely shaved or trimmed around the tiny bikini bottom, but as summer progressed, she seemed to lose interest in doing so.

At night though, that was when her sadness seemed to be the most apparent. Through the window he watched her undress, item by item her clothing slipping from her young sexy body. She’d shower quickly, washing with a bottle of some kind of liquid that made what appeared to be soothing bubbles. She showered with the bathroom door open, allowing him to see her slowly wash and rinse herself. Some nights she’d slip on a slick looking nightgown and then lay between the covers. Many nights her young body shook as tears overtook her. He didn’t know what her sadness was about, but he could feel the intensity of it even through the glass of the window. Other nights she’d lain on the bed with nothing on. Her fingers gently teasing her own body, stroking her creamy soft skin in a way that suggested that she was imitating the touch of another.

He’d watch her tease her body, stroking her soft skin, what she’d called her nipples once, hardening as her body grew excited. Soon one hand would move between her legs, her knees lifting and pushing apart as she lay on her back. Her fingers would slowly tease up and down her thighs and then move to ever so gently touch and stroke her full rounded skin surrounding her slit and the bit of flowery skin protruding. Her fingers would slowly work deeper into herself, stroking her own wetness up and around her. Sometimes she’d use a small device, a pointed cylinder, pressing it slowly into herself. He would watch her arch her back, words he couldn’t hear coming from her as her body was wracked with tremors and shudders. Many nights, when she was done with what he thought was pleasurable, she’d roll up in the blankets, still naked, her body giving way to tears before she fell asleep.

He’d watched her from the middle of summer through the beginning of fall. She rarely came to the garden any longer, the vegetables long since having been harvested. It was only a few days ago that she harvested the dry corn stalks, cutting them off and bundling them up. The weather had turned much too chilly for her to relax in the sun and read, so now he only saw her as she prepared to leave in the morning and again as she prepared for bed at night. Some days she seemed to be just going through the motions, no smile, no brightness in her look. Some mornings she didn’t even bother to spend time sitting in front of the reflecting glass, painting her face and lips with colors to make her look even more beautiful.

It was still early when he noticed her bedroom lights come on. It was still a long time until bed time when she walked into the room. He watched her take off the small dress she had put on that morning, slipping the material off and laying it on the bed. She rolled what she’d called pantyhose down her legs, bending over, her panty clad butt pointing almost right at him. She worked the slick looking material off over her feet and tossed them onto the bed before straightening just long enough to hook her fingers in the waistband of those same panties. She bent over again, pushing them down, her sexy young slit pushing out between her thighs invitingly, making him wish he were able to be inside with her. She reached behind her back and undid the little strap of the thing that cupped her breasts, tossing it aside as soon as she’d shrugged the little straps off her shoulders.

She showered quickly, not taking nearly as long as many days, almost as if she were in a hurry. She wasn’t even completely dried off as she wrapped a towel around herself and darted out of the bathroom and bedroom. He waited patiently, for what else could a scarecrow do? In a few minutes she returned, the towel still around her, but she wasn’t alone. The woman who followed her into the bedroom was slightly shorter than she was, and her hair was a dark blonde, almost the color of his own straw stuffing. He was surprised to see her also start to undress, the bright red dress she wore quickly falling around her ankles, revealing her otherwise completely bare body. She was slightly rounder than the young woman that lived here, her breasts a bit smaller, but her nipples and areola both a much lighter shade of pink. He couldn’t hear what she said, but it made them both break down in giggles, something he hadn’t seen his young lady do very often. For a few moments he could see the gloom lift from her.

It didn’t last long. Both of them stopped giggling and a serious look overcame them both. The blonde stepped towards his young lady, and she reached up, cupping both of her breasts, gently squeezing her nipples as she pushed her back towards her bed. The blonde pressed her back until she couldn’t step back further and fell back onto the bed, the blonde’s hands no longer able to cup her breasts. She reached down and lifted his young ladies’ legs, lifting and spreading them. He’s seen her in this position many nights as she used her fingers on herself. The blonde knelt down and lowered her head between his young ladies’ legs. He couldn’t hear it, but he knew the look on her face, he’d seen it each time she used the pointed tube inside herself.

Her body squirmed on the bed, her hands grabbing the bedspread, her back arching, long deep gasps coming from her lips as the blonde moved her head around between her legs. He watched as the familiar shudders and trembles raced up and down her body, her breathing rapid and deep, gasping for breath as if in pain, but clearly not. Finally as her body stilled, the blonde lifted her head. She moved up between her legs and then crawled up onto the bed. He watched as she crawled up over his young ladies’ body, moving further and further until she knelt over her face. The blonde spread her legs, allowing her crotch to slowly lower towards his young lady’s face.

She seemed hesitant. He couldn’t see the blonde’s face, only her back and tight little ass. But it was clear that she was anxious for his young lady to do something. He watched as she lifted her head and slowly licked the blonde girl’s crotch, slipping her tongue out of her mouth to press between the soft flowery skin that protruded significantly from within the blonde’s slit. It appeared to him that what his young lady was doing was pleasurable to the blonde girl. She seemed to like the touch of her tongue. It wasn’t long before the blonde was wiggling and moving her hips over her face. The longer his young lady moved her tongue on the blonde girl’s crotch, the more she seemed to enjoy it. Suddenly the blonde girl stopped moving, her body completely still for long seconds before she bent over and lifted herself off his young lady’s face. She rolled over onto the bed, her legs too facing him. She spread her legs wide, and he could see how wet she was as she reached between her legs and pushed two fingers into herself. In and out she pumped them, her hips moving up and down as her fingers plunged in and out of herself. He waited and watched as she pushed her fingers in and out faster. His young lady rolled over and watched as the blonde worked her fingers in and out of her until she held herself still once again, this time with her butt held off the bed by her bent legs. She pulled her fingers from herself, and a gush of water shot from her, powerfully spraying out and all over his young lady. Three times she sprayed out onto his young lady, who seemed to be anything but upset.

The blonde lowered her butt to the bed and lay there panting as his young lady crawled closer and softly kissed the blonde girl’s thighs. Her kisses slowly moved towards her crotch, the blonde seeming to enjoy the new sensations. His young lady pressed her face between the blonde’s legs, blocking his view, but whatever she seemed to be doing, the blonde girl was enjoying.

Suddenly everything changed. His young lady rolled away, reaching for the little black box he’d often seen her hold to her face and talk into. She held it there for some seconds before tossing it aside. The two got off the bed and walked quickly to the bathroom. He’d never seen anyone else use the shower, but now the two were curiously using it together. They seemed to be almost in a rush, rubbing their hands around their bodies, the yellow liquid they squirted on each other making white foam that was quickly rinsed off in the cascade of water.

His young lady quickly exited the shower, walking to the bedroom once again to pick up her towel. She held it against her skin while she walked out of the room, coming back moments later with another towel. The two dried and began to dress. He watched as they both first put on a thin belt around their hips, long straps hanging down the front and back of their legs. Next, they rolled something up and slowly slid their legs into the doughnut shaped roll, sliding their hands slowly up their legs, spreading the material up until their legs were mostly covered in the shiny black material. They each did this with both legs.

His young lady moved to put on a pair of tiny black underwear, which the blonde girl quickly grabbed and threw across the room. He could see his young lady protest, but eventually give in and move on to slipping the black lace device around her middle, the lacy material cupping each of her breasts, her hard nipples poking over the top of the lace. He wasn’t sure how, but he suddenly realized that he understood the purpose and name of the device, the bra that she was putting on. The blonde girl didn’t wear one and slipped the long black dress down over her body, leaving her crotch and breasts exposed under the dress. His young lady also put on a black dress, hers shorter than the blonde girl’s. Much, much shorter. The jagged bottom edge of the dress barely came down to the middle of her thighs as she turned to let the blonde girl pull a fastener up the middle of her back. His young lady turned and looked at herself in the mirror, smiling. He was glad she was smiling. He’d seen it so few times.

They walked from the room, turning the light out behind them. He looked around at the garden below him, looking at the few plants that were left and the stubble of the corn stalks. He really had little to do but hang there and listen to the night sounds. He looked to the east and saw the huge orange ball of the moon begin its rise. It looked huge tonight, much larger than most nights. It was only the fourth time he’d seen it completely round like this. As he watched, it grew somewhat smaller, but also brighter, casing a bluish hue across the ground and across him.

It had grown late by the time his young lady returned home. He didn’t know where she had gone, but the lack of noises from the house and the unusual sound from in front he’d heard so many times, meant she had gone someplace. He watched her walk into the room, only the light from the moon lighting her bed. She lay on the bed, her legs hanging over the end. She seemed upset. He’d seen her tears many times in the last months, but this time, it seemed to hurt him inside. He wished he could make her feel better, to make her smile again instead of cry. He closed his eyes and knew that he was just a scarecrow, and he had no place in the land of people. His task was to protect the garden from birds, she had made that perfectly clear when she put him up on this stick. “Keep the birds out of my garden now!” she had commanded him.

He looked at the moon again and wished he could make his young lady feel better.

To his surprise he found himself standing on the ground, no longer held up by the stick. He had no idea how, but he was. He looked at the straw sticking out of the arms of the flannel shirt he wore, the sight of it somehow strange. He moved his arms, something he had never done before, and touched his straw hands to each other. He could feel them, smooth, soft and warm. Not at all what he expected. He looked down at his boots, seeming to be able to move them. He didn’t know how, but yet, they moved. He willed his boots to move him towards the door of the house, and they did. They carried him step by step to the door. He had no trouble opening the door and walking in. He didn’t even understand how to open the door, yet he had. He guessed at where the young lady’s room was and moved in that direction, finding all kinds of obstacles, but somehow, he knew how to move around them. The closer he moved to her room, the more and more he understood and felt. He suddenly knew her name was Jenny. He knew she was sad because she had lost the one she loved more than any other. He knew that he wanted to be with her, to…do things to her that would make her feel like what she seemed to feel when she lay on the bed.

She was standing with her back to the door as he stepped through it, her hands just pulling the dress up and over her head. He quietly stepped behind her and wrapped both arms around her, one around her waist, the other around her chest. She jumped and screamed and tried to pull away.

“Shhhhhh. It’s alright Jenny!” he said. How had he done that? He’d never spoken before. He didn’t even know he could.

“Please! Don’t hurt me!” she begged, still struggling but apparently realizing that his grip was too strong for her to break.

“I’d never hurt you,” he whispered before lowering his face to her neck and gently pressing his lips to it. He held his lips there, feeling the heat of her body pressed to his body. He realized that one of his arms was across her breasts. They were round and soft. The nipple that stuck out was much harder. As he moved his hand to stroke it, she tried to pull away. He held her to him with his other hand, pulling her bare behind against the front of his denim overalls. It was a funny feeling, a sensation he’d not felt before. He let his hand move across her soft breast, his fingers teasing her nipple like he’d watched her do to herself so many times. She stopped struggling and allowed him to stroke her, teasing the hard protrusion.

He let his other hand slide down, releasing the pressure on her waist, his hand moving down until his fingers teased through the rough curls just above the juncture of her legs. She held still while he moved his fingers lower, gently stroking across the full roundness between her legs. He let the tips of his fingers gently rub up and down across the little bit her inner depths protruding, feeling its softness. He let his finger press between the soft flowery skin, dipping into her hot wet slit, feeling her heat and wetness. He slid his finger up and down until he touched the hard nub hidden within. She shuddered but didn’t bolt, allowing him to gently stroke the hard bump.

They stood there, his hands teasing her nipple and her clit while he softly kissed the back of her neck. He wasn’t sure why he was doing it, but it felt right. It felt good. It felt like he’d done it before. She reached between them, reaching around her back and unclasping the lace strap holding the bra in place. He let her slide the straps down her arms, freeing her entire breast for him to touch and play with. She slowly turned in his arms, her hands reaching for his and then pulling him back towards the bed. She pulled him along with her until she could back up no further.

He wasn’t sure why, but he let her unclip the buckles that held his overalls up, the heavy blue material sliding down his body and pooling around his legs. He easily stepped out of the untied boots, the legs of the overalls staying with the boots as he stepped from them. She worked the buttons of his shirt down until it was open all the way, and then pushed it off his shoulders. He looked to the side, seeing himself in the piece of glass that reflected him. He didn’t look like he expected. His straw was all pink and smooth, nothing like the straw that had stuck out of the arms of his shirt. Even further down he had an unruly bunch of straw sticking out, poking up at her at an angle. She didn’t seem to be bothered by it, in fact, she seemed eager to inspect it. She leaned closer to it and then, in a surprise move, closed her lips around it.

He closed his eyes and let the sensations overtake him. Her hot wet mouth stroked on him, her tongue teasing under the front of his protrusion, causing incredible sensations. He wanted to move his hips, to push himself towards her each time she pushed her mouth towards him. She held his hips, keeping him from doing just that. He lost track of how long it had been. He could see the moon had moved and more of its bluish light shown on the bed when she pulled her mouth from him. She stood and backed up, pulling him by the hand as she backed to the bed and then onto the bed. She slid up the bed further, pulling him until he had to crawl onto the bed himself. She let go of his head and guided him towards her crotch, pulling his head gently down between her legs.

He hesitantly stuck out his tongue, trying to imitate what she and the blonde girl had done earlier. He stroked slowly up the wet slit between her legs, tasting the sweetness of her juices, the sensation of his tongue pressing into her drawing a contented groan from her. “Oh God David,” she moaned softly as he continued to stroke up and down her wet slit. He wasn’t sure what it was he was doing, but he could tell that when he ran his tongue over the hard nub he’d felt before, it made her squirm on the bed. He kept licking, her juices flowing more freely, running down his chin and dripping to the bed. She suddenly stiffened as he’d seen her do many times, only to start shuddering and trembling. He could feel her moisture flowing out at him, not spraying as the blonde girl had done, but certainly flowing like a small stream from within her.

She reached down and pulled on him. Coaxing him up her body. She let him linger at her breasts for a few moments, allowing him to lick and taste the hard nubs of her nipples curiously. He closed his lips around one of her nipples, squeezing it with his lips much like he’d watched her do with her fingers. She arched her back and pushed the soft mound of her breast towards him in apparent appreciation.

He felt her reach between them, finding the protrusion she had sucked on before. He felt her rub it up and down her wet slit and then guide it to an opening that seemed to go into her. He’d seen her push the pointed tube into her, guessing that she wanted him to do the same thing. He pushed his hips towards her, slowly forcing himself into her. He could feel the hot wetness envelope him and a strange feeling overcome him. He wanted to be inside her this way. He wanted to slide himself in and out of her. He just needed to.

He began to rock his hips, quickly finding a method and rhythm that pumped him in and out of her. It felt incredible. Even better than the wind sneaking through the gap of his overalls to tickle through his straw body. In and out he made himself slide, his young lady, Jenny, moving in time with him. She seemed to enjoy the sensation and coaxed him to push in harder and faster. He wanted to make her feel better, so he did. He pushed harder and faster, a strange sensation overcoming him. He felt an urgency to push a little harder, to not stop. He felt her body start to quiver below him. He felt her body start to squeeze around his penetrating member. The tighter she got, the harder he had to pump.