This choice: Too risky. Keep climbing. • Go Back... You brush the idea out of your mind. You’d rather not risk splattering on the ground.
When you reach Pelly’s knee, the obvious hits you. You’re under a girl’s dress. You look around. Pelly’s purple dress is your sky, filtering the little light that bleeds through into shades of lilac. You can see, barely, the towering form of the pelican working diligently, quietly. She isn’t aware of the sneaky, little individual perched atop her knee. She is aware, however, that her bloomers were pushing up uncomfortably against her. Pelly glanced around to make sure she was alone. It was a simple fix, but Pelly wouldn’t want to be caught dead with a wing up her dress, even for something innocent such as this. It was improper, unlady-like. Once her solidarity was confirmed, she casually put her pen down and reached her feathers under her dress.
You saw your purple sky part and a ginormous, fluffy, milk-white wing descend from the heavens. Like a snake, it slithered past you, between her legs, and slipped under her puffy underthings. It pushed against the puffy shorts and lifted them up. She was adjusting herself. You could clearly see into her bloomers and you learned an interesting tidbit about Pelly: besides the aforementioned undergarments, she doesn’t wear anything. No panties. Nothing to withhold her pussy from taking a momentary breath of fresh air. You watch as her wingtip buried itself inside her undergarments and under her bottom. You hear a scratching noise. She was scratching her taint. Her bloomers billow like a bedsheet in the breeze as the air inside is shuffled about.
Although things started rather innocuously, it was quickly turning dirty. Pelly couldn’t stop thinking about Pete and felt an aching in her loins. She was thinking of his dreamy eyes, his goofy jokes, his adorable laugh….
Pelly remembered one time it was raining. Pete barreled into the office soaking wet. He took off his shirt to let it dry for a bit before he went back out. He didn’t know she was watching. She did her best to make it look like she had her beak buried in paperwork, but she saw everything. His pearly feathers were glistening, slightly ruffled in the cutest way. Her right leg began to quiver. She always did this when she was nervous --- or horny.
Down below, your world was rocking. Your safe spot was no longer safe. You quickly thought of a new refuge. Her chair was an obvious answer, but if she ever decided to adjust her seating, you’d likely be crushed. Is there another place to hide?
A dirty thought flashes in your mind. You could hide in her bloomers. They’re soft, probably comfortable. Plus...other benefits. Her bloomers are still open, she’s practically inviting you in! One hopes that she’ll withdraw her hand soon, though.
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