The Rope

You grab the rope and the other two clouds instantly disappear. You give it a good yank, testing its strength, a good strong rope, not roughly braided. As you wonder what it's purpose might be, you hear someone not too far away whistling a little song. You notice a footpath a couple meters away, and decide to hide behind a tree and wait to see what happens, rope in hand.

Not even a minute later you peek around the tree and recoil in shock at the sight. You know who that is. Brittany. Brittany Bar. You grew up with this girl. Public school and high school. You had the biggest crush on her. Petite, cute like you wouldn't believe. Watching her grow into the tightest little teen was one of your earliest masturbatory fantasies, and here she was, in the flesh, looking not a day older then the day she turned 18. You unconsciously flex the rope in your hands and collect your thoughts. This is Blowjob Master. Brittany is my challenge. The thought excites you like no other. Your childhood crush, here, for you to denigrate as you please.

But I guess you'll have to catch her first.