The farmhouse looked like it hadn’t been used in some time, but there were all sorts of sexy furnitures lounging around inside. There was a plush little Ottoman, a cushy couch, and a elegant table with nice, long legs.

Tiny peeked in through the windows for a while, but he couldn't find a good way inside. Also, the girls were all in packs, and Tiny knew that'd make any seduction more difficult. Too many friends there to cock-block him out of jealousy.

He walked away from the house, toward the barn he'd spied earlier. Maybe there would be a haystack or some sacks of grain that would be susceptible to his charms. He made his way around the side of the barn, and when he got to the front, he stopped and stared.

She was beautiful. She floated over his head like a kinky angel, her body bound with twine, suspended from a large metal pulley by a sturdy rope. Somebody must have left her up there as a punishment or a tease, and just left her there. Her straw glistened with dampness from last night’s rain, as she slowly twisted from the day’s gentle breeze.

“Hold on,” Tiny called to her. “I'm coming!”

He chuckled to himself as he darted into the barn, because he was certain that yes, he would indeed be coming in the near future.

As he moved briskly through the barn, Tiny composed and sang a love song:

Hey, hey, hey, I'm gonna get a lay!

Lay, lay, lay, I'm gonna fuck some hay!

Come on, hey!

Come in hay!

Come on hay, let’s play!

He saw a coquettish haystack in the corner staring at him. She was a big girl, a lot taller and wider than Tiny, but that didn’t bother him.

“Not you,” he told her. Then he winked. “At least, not yet!”

Tiny started to worry about his song a bit, because now he felt like he’d been a tease to the haystack. Also because he knew that straw and hay weren’t the same thing, and the object of his immediate lust was a straw bale, not a hay bale. He hoped she hadn’t heard his little song, because he didn’t want her to think that he was racist. Straw bales were notoriously sensitive creatures.

Still, if he came back for the haystack later, it wouldn’t be teasing if she thought his song was for her, just a promise not yet carried out. As Tiny crossed the barn, he saw some other lovely ladies lying leisurely around: some sacks of corn, an old tractor, a can of gasoline, and an old manure pile. He considered the qualities of each of them, weighing in his mind the pros and cons of their different physiques. He didn’t really care too much about the qualities of their minds.

He decided that he’d have to come back to the barn several more times, after he was done with the lovely Ms. Strawbale. Each of the sexy...

Tiny Humps A Strawbale