A Puff Of Wind

There were airjets all over the funhouse, so a girl's skirt could be blown up no matter where she happened to be standing. Mr. Jackson had insisted on it. Nathan had always thought of it as an unnecessary expense, but right now he could see the appeal.

A little puff of wind would teach Emily to call him a clown. He knew the sort of girl she was. Oh, she seemed nice, but that kind of temptress loved nothing better than to string men along with a pretty smile, then wrap them around her little finger and bring them to their knees. In a way, teaching a bit of humility to an ice-cold bitch like that was a public service. Maybe she'd think twice before the next time she tried to break a man's spirit.

Yes, the airjets were just the ticket. Make her run through the mirror maze, squealing, clutching at her shirt, surrounded by reflections of her bare bottom. Imagine being a vicious man-eater like Emily, with such a high opinion of yourself, and having to walk around with your bottom bare!

And, after all, there were far meaner things he could do to her. It wasn't like there was anyone around to actually see her bottom. Except for him, and she didn't know he was there. Just a little prick to her pride, to remind her to treat other people with a bit more consideration next time. Really, he was letting her off easy.

He pressed the button.

And watched as Emily's shirt flew up around her waist, giving him a perfect view of her peachy posterior, only a few feet from his face. She squealed in a very satisfying manner, her cheeks turning bright red as she hurried to pin it back down, glancing around to make certain that nobody had seen. Even though she was alone in the maze. Adorable.

He pressed the button again. Harder, this time.

This time, the shirt blew up to the level of Emily's armpits. The gust of wind was so strong that she struggled to keep the skirt down, fighting a losing battle with the flapping cloth. As luck would have it, she'd turned to face him, and the view was spectacular. Full, heavy, bouncing breasts, jiggling as she flailed in the breeze, crowned with pretty pink nipples. Long legs. Rounded hips. And, of course, Emily's sweet little pussy, a tidy treasure between her thighs, thatched with golden curls. Delicious discomfort was written all over her cute face as she beat at the fabric, trying to hide her feminine mysteries, seeing only her nude reflection in the mirror.

Nathan felt a bit like a pervert. But only a little bit. After all, he'd already established that she deserved it.

He hesitated before pushing the button again. Should he give her an even bigger dose of wind? Or should he try something else?