Prairie Dogs, Pronghorns & Penis Sheaths
by Biff Spork
Chapter 6
You Can Get Anything on eBay
LONDON, 19 August, 2021 − The world's pollinators are in decline − and scientists now have a surer idea of why. The bees, butterflies, wasps, beetles, flies, bats and hummingbirds (yes, animals and birds too) that shift pollen from one flower to another and help three-fourths of the world's food crops to fruit and reproduce are on the way out. Oblivion awaits insects and other pollinators because of the things humans have done, and go on doing.
And it will be humans that could pay the biggest price as the decline goes on. "What happens to pollinators could have huge knock-on effects for humanity," said Lynn Dicks, of the University of Cambridge in the UK.
" These small creatures play central roles in the world's ecosystems, including many that humans and other animals rely on for nutrition. If they go, we may be in serious trouble."
As I palmed the security door in the wall the next morning, I wondered if I would ever not feel excited when I stood there. It was early, nine o'clock, and I hoped Marcus would be in the workshop. He was, and already bent over the cart we were assembling.
" Hi Marcus," I said. Seeing him there gave me such a rush of joy that I felt shy.
He looked up from tightening a bolt, then put the wrench down and opened his arms. "C'mere Bumps, and give me a hug."
We fell to hugging and only pulled apart when it seemed that things were getting out of hand downstairs.
" Your cart is basically finished now," said Marcus as he turned to the table, "but I want to test every nut and bolt and cable and connection before we take it out for a spin."
We did that for an hour, then installed the battery we had left charging overnight.
The cart was light enough that the two of us easily carried it outside. We set it down, and Marcus stood back and surveyed me. "You know," he said, "you might wipe out a few times before you're ready to take this out at night, and those shorts and T-shirt won't protect you from road rash." He pulled me back inside the workshop. "Let's get kitted up."
A half-hour later we were back out in the sunshine wearing black vinyl leggings and jackets, and crash helmets. "We're gonna roast in this stuff," said Marcus, "but if we take a tumble, we'll be okay."
I sat in the new cart where I usually sat on our night excursions, and he drove us around to where his cart was parked under a shelter beside the factory building. While he drove, he gave me brief instructions. Driving was simple: two pedals, accelerator and brake, and a steering wheel. "You have to learn to feather the accelerator," he said. "It's really sensitive. Just a touch and you'll be moving. The acceleration in these electric motors is crazy. If you jam your foot down you'll be doing sixty miles an hour in a few seconds." He looked at me seriously. "So, don't jam your foot down on the accelerator."
Marcus wanted to test drive the new cart, so I belted myself into his cart and followed him slowly along a dirt track that wound through the trees. "Let's take it slow and easy until you get the feel of it," he said.
The circular trail had ups and downs and curves, both left and right, some right-angle turns and a few hairpin turns. A half-hour later we were back at the beginning. I was starting to feel comfortable driving the cart, though I was getting sweaty inside the black vinyl.
Marcus made a few small adjustments to the new cart and then said, "Okay, let's go around again but a little faster. You okay with that?"
" Yeah, this is great," I said.
We accomplished the second circuit in about twenty minutes. The third time around we were back at the workshop in ten minutes.
" Good, now we go again but in the opposite direction so you get good at driving no matter which way you're going," said Marcus and I followed him around the track again.
" Okay," he said when we arrived back at the start. "Let's go again, but this time you lead so I can watch you. Don't try to race. Just drive as fast as feels okay, but first, hold on while I organize some lunch for us." He pulled out his phone. "Anna? We're gonna be up for lunch in an hour. Is that okay?"
Apparently it was okay because he signaled me to lead the way along the forest track. We did two more ten-minute circuits and then I followed him onto a dirt road. After a few miles, it merged into a paved driveway that wound upwards through a natural woodland of dark-leaved ancient oaks. The trees thinned and I could see we were climbing a hill, but there was no house that I could see. When we came to a stop on the hilltop, I was surprised to discover that the summit was the house. The sprawling mansion was so low and so integrated into the landscape that it seemed to have grown out of the hill.
" Nice house," I said after we had parked near the front entrance.
" Yeah," said Marcus. "Some famous architect designed it a long time ago. It's an old house, but it's been updated regularly with modern stuff, so it's still really comfortable. Let's go to my room and grab a shower before lunch. I'm feeling sticky."
Marcus had one of those great walk-in rain showers in his bathroom, so we just stood there while the gentle sprays washed away the sweat and dust. When we were toweling dry, Marcus laughed, threw his towel at me, and went over to his desk. "I've got a surprise for you," he said. "Close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you, no matter what I do. Okay?"
" Okay," I said.
" Promise!" he demanded.
" Okay, I promise," I said. I finished wiping my wet spots and getting my hair a little dry and then stood there naked, wondering what he was planning. I heard the sound of paper tearing, and he laughed as his footsteps approached.
" Okay, no peeking," he said. Then he grasped my penis and gently squeezed it. I boned up instantly.
" Oh," I said. "I like this surprise."
" That's not the surprise," he said. "That's just the preparation."
Then I felt him sliding something over my boner. He then lifted up my balls, and I felt a string tighten around them. Another string was tied around my waist and then he said, "Okay, you can look now."
Mounted snugly astride my penis was a long, narrow, yellow gourd engraved with intricate designs. "A koteka!" I said. "Where did you get a koteka?"
" Ebay," he said. "You can get anything on ebay. How's it feel?"
I wiggled my hips, danced, and shimmied. The koteka continued to sit firmly atop my boner. The pointy end of the gourd poked up to about the same height as my nipples. "It's great," I said. "Thank you, Marcus." It felt so nice I couldn't help laughing. "Let me take it off and you can try it."
" No need," he said. "I've got a bunch more of them, all different sizes and shapes." He held up another gourd with a corkscrew tip and said, "Maybe you can put this one on me?"
He was already erect, but I grasped and squeezed him as if he needed further stiffening, then carefully slid the koteka over it. "Okay, now, hold it while I tie the string under your balls." Then I tied the other string around his waist to hold the koteka upright.
He pulled me over to a floor-to-ceiling mirror, and we stood there grinning and wiggling. We laughed and fell into a hug, careful not to crush the kotekas standing up between us. My stomach gave a great groan.
" Marcus," I said. "I'm starving."
" So I hear," said Marcus, "and, my dear Bumpus, food you shall have, but first, let us dress appropriately for lunch. I've been researching on the net. A properly appointed Papuan wears more than a koteka."
From the same ebay package, we next donned two woven headdresses bright with red and green dyes. When Marcus fastened mine on me he said, "Those New Guinea Highland people wear some really beautiful headdresses, but since they're made from feathers, I didn't want us vegans to wear them. Same with the cowrie shell necklaces they wear — they look really good, but it would be like wearing a bunch of tiny skeletons, so I've bought some of their beaded necklaces for us instead."
Marcus opened a box of body paints, covered my face with red, blue, and orange stripes, and laid a random pattern of purple polka dots over my neck and shoulders. More stripes in yellow crossed my belly and back. He painted my bum red and drew little white circles on the red while giggling like a maniac. When I had similarly decorated him, we stood again in front of the mirror.
" Beautiful," he said. "Let's go have some lunch."
" Like this?" I was torn between starvation and modesty.
" But yes, my dear Bumpster." Marcus was merciless. "You said it would be good to walk around wearing nothing but a koteka, and your wish is my command. So, let's go."
" Arrrggh!"
" Don't worry about anyone seeing you. They've all seen me naked hundreds of times since I was a baby, and lots of times even now, I don't bother with clothes around the house. You're pretty much the same as me, and besides, we are dressed, just not in dull American style."
While he spoke he pulled me into the hallway. My boner had shrunk, but the koteka remained firmly attached and continued to point upwards in a spirited fashion. I did feel costumed, even if not exactly clothed. Marcus led us through the house to a terrace at the rear that overlooked a swimming pool, with some treed meadows beyond. There, he seated us at an umbrella-shaded table laid for two and poured us each a glass of cold kefir. Almost instantly a woman came to the table with two steaming plates of food. She set the plates down before us and tittered. Then she bent over and slapped her ample thighs, as her giggles grew into guffaws.
" Anna," said Marcus gravely. "Control yourself. We have a guest."
Anna straightened up and Marcus continued, "I am happy to present to you my dear friend and colleague, Gerald Kelly, generally known as Bumper."
Anna was a large woman, not obese, but solid and bursting with motherly curves. Yet she managed a half-curtsy, though snickers continued to escape from her.
" Bumper," said Marcus, "I am pleased to present my dearest helpmate, Anna Accardi, who has been taking care of me since before I can remember. She's the best vegan cook you'll ever know. She's the boss of this house, and she thinks she's the boss of me."
Anna stood behind Marcus and silently mouthed 'I am' to me. I liked her immediately. I stood up and bowed and nearly took my eye out with the end of my koteka.
Marcus wasn't exaggerating about Anna's cooking; it was beyond delicious. We topped off the main course with cherries, bananas, and some spicy roasted cashews. By the time we pushed our chairs back, I was feeling comfortable in my koteka and head-dress.
Marcus reached over the table, took my hands in his, and held them. "Bumper, let's not do anything serious this afternoon. I've been thinking it would be fun if we just walk through the woods from here to the swimmin' hole, like wild boys, and then wash all this paint off in a nice long swim."
He stood up and led me off the terrace, pausing as we stepped onto the grass to shout back into the house, "Anna, Thank you for the great lunch."
Anna came onto the terrace and waved to us. I shouted my thanks also. We strolled downhill to a narrow trail through the trees. Once within the woods Marcus turned to me and wrapped his arms around me. I buried my nose in his hair and smelled him, and he cupped my rear with his hands.
" How does that koteka feel?" he asked after we had nuzzled for a while.
" Awesome!" I said. "It feels nice, like a little hand is holding onto my dick, and I do feel dressed or at least, not naked. It's great, like when Anna came and cleared the table, I had a big boner, but it was nicely stuck up inside my koteka, and I'm sure she couldn't tell I was sitting there all boned up."
" Yeah," he said. "Me too. I was so full I think I had to have a boner because there was no room for my dick in my insides, but it just swelled up in the koteka and felt fine."
" Too bad we can't go to the mall like this," I said.
" Yeah, but it's more fun to be in the woods like this, almost like we're in Papua New Guinea, two native boys hanging out in the jungle."
He led the way and I followed. It struck me as the most amazing mystery, that the sight of him in front of me should give me such joy. It didn't make any sense, but I didn't care.
" Do you think these kotekas have been used?" I asked.
" I don't know," said Marcus, "but they were described by the seller as 'authentic,' and they look and feel like they have been worn before. I like to think that a boy in another country had his dick up inside there where mine is now."
" Yeah, some of the kotekas for men are huge. These are small kotekas, boy-sized kotekas, and they're really smooth inside, like a boy wore them and made sure they were comfortable to wear, and weren't just made to sell to tourists."
At the workshop, we laid the knitted caps and bead necklaces aside and picked up a bar of soap. We didn't remove the kotekas until we reached the swimmin' hole. It was strange then suddenly to feel naked, as if a koteka and its few strings comprised a garment, though it left everything on display except for my penis. After we dived into the river, we sat on the bank and lathered and scrubbed each other until all vestiges of paint were washed away. We rinsed the soap off and stretched out to dry in the sun.
I drifted into a light doze. When I awoke, Marcus was fastening my koteka to himself.
" I thought I would try yours on," he said and tossed his corkscrew gourd over to me.
When we got back to the workshop, I realized that all my clothes were up at the house in Marcus's bedroom.
" No problem," he said. "We're the same size. You can wear some of the clothes I have here."
I unfastened my koteka while he rummaged through a bureau and selected shorts, a T-shirt, and shoes and socks for me. I started digging through a hamper, and he warned me it was dirty laundry.
" Good," I said and dug through it until I found a pair of worn underpants, held them to my nose and took a deep breath through my nose. They were definitely ripe enough to fuel the night's fantasies.
Marcus looked at me and threw me a clean pair of underpants. "No need to wear those," he said. "Here's some clean ones."
I took another sniff. "I'm not going to wear these. You've got my pillowcase but I've got nothing. These dirty undies are so ripe and cheesy that, as a vegan, I feel guilty sniffing them, but I'm addicted to your stinkiness and intend to enjoy it tonight." I pulled the clean underwear on and pocketed the other.
Soon I was dressed. His garments felt familiar to me, like I had worn them before but forgotten them. To be inside his clothes was another way of feeling close to Marcus. Even his shoes and socks welcomed my feet like old friends.
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