Across the Rope Bridge

I want to stay up here for a little bit longer. Maybe I'd be able to get a better view of where I am from up here. I crouch below the gate and walk onto the small rope bridge. It sways, and I clutch the sides, trying to stabilize myself. I finally found a position, my legs spread apart, standing horizontal on the line. One hand gripped the rope railing in front of me, while the other one clutched it behind me.

I'm completely exposed, my unabashed erection pointing directly out of my body and can be seen from every single direction on this bridge. I want to jerk off, the urge pulses through my body but I know I can't. If I remove an arm, I'll just go back to swinging unbalanced. I sigh, staring down at my lonely dick. If someone walked underneath me, they'd get an eye-full of cock, balls, and a puckering asshole.

I finally get my head out of the gutter and scan my surroundings. I don't even recognize this place. I thought I've been to almost every where, or at least every park, in this tiny ass college town, but maybe I haven't. Or worse, maybe I'm not even in town.

I panic, my heart racing in my chest and I accidentally loose my footing. I fall backwards, my arms still clutching both the railings and I pull them through the open side. The ropes and my arms twist together and when I finally stop moving, I'm dangling a foot above the ground. I look up and my wrists are wrapped around the ropes, trapping me in this compromising position.

"Fuck," I swear quietly at myself.

I'm trapped. Naked and hard, dangling just above the ground. The ropes were becoming quite painful too.