Digging Holes for Seeds

When he was finished, he remained still for a moment. While he softened slightly inside of me. Only then did he step backward. I hung on the rope, too exhausted to do much more than keep my feet while I fought to bring my breathing back under control. Behind me, I heard Jon reaching down. The clink of his belt as he pulled his pants back up around his waist, fumbling them closed. Between my legs, I can feel his cum. Leaking out of me. Tracing a wet line down my left thigh, toward my knee.

"Amy," the deep voice, from over my shoulder, brought me back. He wasn't speaking to me. I could tell by his tone; he was only turning my name over against his tongue. "Huh."

And then he walked away. My eyes followed him, slightly disbelieving, as he stepped around me. He paused, grabbing a bag of fertilizer from the stack near the wall. If his breathing was a little deeper than usual, when he flipped it over his shoulder, he gave no other indication that something strange had happened. I should say something, I know--I should open my mouth and speak, but I can't. All I can do is watch as he moves away from me, toward the open doorway. Leaving me hanging--quite literally. A fist grips tight in my stomach as I watch him walk away.

Two steps passed the tipped-over stool, he pauses. Without looking at me, he steps back. The toe of his boot makes a soft thump as he kicks away the bag of fertilizer on the ground. The rope jerks, and then slides free from around the bag.

I collapse, the moment the tension goes out of the rope. My legs fold, depositing me on the floor. Only my still-bound hands catch me, at the last moment. Between my legs. I can feel the small rocks, the dust that clings to my sweat-coated body, the cum that leaks out of me onto the ground. Jon glances back, readjusting the bag of fertilizer over his shoulder as our eyes meet. Mine open and staring, his steady and brown, hiding themselves behind a blink. I watch them lower slightly, but whether they go between my legs, or to the ropes around my wrists, I can't tell. He doesn't smile, but for the first time, I see the perpetual sternness fade back from the features of his face. It almost looks like he's about to chuckle, but he doesn't. He turns away.

"Right then. Good luck with that."

Digging Holes for Seeds ---- THE END.