Chad stared intently at the straw filled bulge of the scarecrow's bib overalls. That was where he belonged. He was a Speedo without a crotch. He needed a crotch to hug. He vaguely remembered wearing clothing. He did remember how happy his wearer was wearing him. This scarecrow looked unhappy. Chad wished he could make the scarecrow happy. He wished he was worn by the scarecrow. He walked up to the scarecrow. He buried his nose in the scarecrow's crotch. It smelled wrong. It smelled like wet straw. It should smell more like Chad. He sniffed himself. He had managed to workup a little sweat this morning with his naked walk-run through the cornfields. He felt something cold and hard pushing against his lower body. He looked down. He saw his erect penis sticking out with his glans pressed against the wooden post supporting the scarecrow.
He shouldn't have a penis, he thought. Penises belonged inside him. There was precum leaking from his boner? He was leaking. He reached down and touched himself. It felt good. Soon her was jerking off in front of the scarecrow. His balls were huge. Chad's cock throbbed. When he finally came he sent a huge stream of hot semen straight up into the scarecrow. A huge glob of white cream hung from its crotch.
Chad licked his lips. Soon he was slurping his own load of the scarecrow's crotch. His skin turned blue. He reached up and hugged the scarecrow as his naked blue body shrank. In a matter of moments, the only thing in the clearing where the naked man had been was a scarecrow wearing a Speedo.
The Speedo was happy again. It was being worn. It was fulfilling its purpose.