Smoky Mountains Porno or Bust

I dashed out of the Big Apple on some back pay this past week and headed to the Smoky Mountains (I’ve been looking to femme up a photo shoot in Appalachia, as I’m gearing up to release a porno experiment sometime in July).

So there I am, all snug in my pantyhose and ready for a quick, solo-porno shoot. Then this red-headed teenager pops around the nearest tree trunk and stops dead to stare wide-eyed at the silk bunching around my pantied crotch . . . yes, that’s a penis, dear, and it’s excited.

His parents follow on his heels, so I’m left exposed in the brush, and everyone pretends like it’s just another day in the park. So much for my dreams of becoming an Appalachian porno star. In any case, I waited till the kid and his parents ambled off down the rapids before I shot some half-photos of myself and busted a load on the nearest Oak trunk. I thought of the redhead, too, that little shit. I’m not sick, you know, just vindictive.