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Soapy water flew from my sides and into my face but I could see Bastian at the end waiting for me, his naked cock anxiously waiting my arrival. His strong chest and arms were outstretched, as if ready to hug me when I got there. People whizzed past me as I continued on at a tremendous speed. The look on Bastian’s face was pure worry as he realized I wasn’t slowing down much at all. I expected him to jump out of the way but he didn’t. He stayed his ground and then I was on him, scared to death I’d ram my head into his balls and destroy any chance I had at getting laid later on that night. But he caught me, scooping me up in his arms and falling onto his back. We both lay there laughing our asses off.
I love this fucking Harvest Festival!
Needing to wash the soap off, we made our way back to the dance area where Emery graciously sprayed my tits and pussy with his heavy stream of water. The amount of time spent near my clit was unnecessary but felt great so I didn’t complain. We drank more beer and went on dancing. The talent show came and went and so did the chili cook-off and some of the other organized events.
The sun was beginning to set when the games began and thank God for that. I knew I’d have a hell of a sunburn the next morning. We were all ushered over to an open area of the field where Kendall waited with a microphone. The crowd circled up around her. Bastian stood behind me, holding me in his arms. I leaned back against his chest and enjoyed my buzz, loving how great it felt in his arms, in this neighborhood, at this moment.
Kendall moved around the crowd with the mic, handing out blue pills again. Bastian took one and downed it with his beer.
“You guys are gonna have a fucking heart attack one day,” I said.
“We only take them at big events,” he replied, “When we play these kinds of games that require us to be hard for a while.”
I didn’t need an explanation. I was only worried about him.
“Are you guys having fun yet?!” Kendall yelled to the crowd.
The roar of the crowd was deafening and I turned around to see way more people than I’d realized lived in E. Mayberry. There couldn’t have been more than a hundred houses, or at least I thought, and with about two people in each that would mean somewhere around two hundred people lived in the neighborhood, but again, that was a total guess and I’ve always sucked at that “guess how many jelly beans are in the jar” game. Still, it seemed every single person in the community had now made his or her way out to the field.
“Then let’s play some games!” Kendall yelled. “First up, can I please get all pie eating contest volunteers to report to the stage?”
Bastian led me over there and whispered, “You are going to fucking love this.”
The sky had turned to an evening purplish blue and the stage was equipped with lighting that shone down on what looked like gynecologist examining room chairs.
“Ladies, please take your positions,” Kendall said.
I didn’t know what the position was but a girl I recognized from my birthday party grabbed my hand and led me on stage where I found a line of ten chairs. I sat down with my head on the headrest and put my feet in the stirrups. In front of each woman’s pussy was a plastic school-style chair and beyond that, the audience.
I did what the other women did and adjusted my chair so I was leaned back and comfortable. My knees were wide open, exposing my pussy to the crowd. It was an uncomfortable situation to be in to say the least.
“Gentlemen,” she said. “You’ve each been given a number, 1-10, and the ladies all have a number on their chairs, so please go sit at the chair, or pie, with your corresponding number.”
Bastian walked past me and gave me a wink. He took the seat all the way on the other end of the stage. I couldn’t even see who the girl was lying back in her chair. I wasn’t familiar with the man who sat down in front of me. He wasn’t model-looking hot like some of the guys in the neighborhood, but he was a good looking man. He had great lips.
My new friend raised her head and waved at her man.
“Hey Rodge,” she said.
She looked at my man and then leaned over as close as she could to me and said, “You have to be the luckiest fucking woman in Erotic Mayberry. Paul is the pie eating champion.”
Apparently my pussy was the pie so hearing that he was a record holder brightened my evening.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Kendall said. “It’s about time for you fellas to get your grub on. For anyone who hasn’t been here the last five years, Paul is our resident champion with five consecutive wins. The man is quickly becoming a pie eating legend. And it looks like he’s getting a taste of Sunshine Pie this evening!”
“Eat that pie!” a woman yelled.
“Go easy on her, Paul!” yelled a man.
“No, don’t!” came the voice of a woman.
I liked her way of thinking.
“No pie is complete without a little bit of whip cream,” Kendall said.
Vivi walked down the row of women with a can of spray cream and circled each woman’s pussy with the stuff, burying us in white froth.
“And some fudge,” Kendall said.
