I recall this story as an indicative example of the struggle for a man in a women’s team…
For a month now, I have been working in a kindergarten in the kitchen. Work is not burdening with complex responsibilities, the team accepted me calmly – I was satisfied. Only communication was missing, since Sergeevna, the senior cook, was surprisingly not distinguished by the female feature – talkativeness. Therefore, I gladly dragged the products and fulfilled all her instructions “go – bring” to at least occasionally slip out of the kitchen kingdom…
The box necessary for me stood below, flooded with others. And everyone was thoroughly heavy. I clearly missed her strength. It was about to quit this hopeless lesson, the door suddenly swung open, and in the twilight I examined the entered Peter – a new electrician, whom the manager, if necessary, invited to the garden.
– Petrush, help to pull out, – I turned to him, bending back to the box.
He came leisurely and… I felt my hips in the grip of his hands. I quickly straightened up, but I couldn’t do anything: he grabbed me tightly and pressed his back to him.
– Let go, devil! – I made another attempt to break out, but he only laughed.
– Glue a bit, you will rather warm up.
His voice was deaf, uneven breathing – I was poured with the heat of powerless rage. But on all the silently, desired attempts to at least turn to face him, he, clasping his hands, only pressed me more tightly to him. Feeling that the resistance was only hot his blood, I stopped breaking out – the vise of my hands immediately weakened.
– That’s smart, ”he whispered barely audible.
His left hand held my waist tightly, and the right one on top of the dress squeezed her chest. With my whole body I felt his intermittent breathing and desire, which converted in every movement.
– Petruha, leave me, because they are waiting for me with this box. I won’t bring it – so they will come here myself – I hissed, fiercely resisting.
– Neither horseradish will come: I threw another job for them, ”he croaked, squeezing his chest more and more.
I clearly felt his pants grow in shocks, resting on my ass. Suddenly I recalled how Sveta giggled that Peter recently touched her in the closet at Kastelianshi, lifted her skirt and “entertained” for two hours after work. “And he has a member like a horse!” – her proud phrase flashed, immediately responding with trembling all over her body.
The phrase was also connected by a long -awaited sense of unconscious jealousy – what can be found in this dead pygalic with a draft between the legs, why the men sticken to her? I do not go unattended, but that’s almost every day, then the knees are scratched, then the suction on the neck covers, then just crawls with a sleepy fly all day.
Presenting how Peter pushed his cock into her bony ass, I involuntarily relaxed under a hot wave that poured me. He instantly caught my weak movement and the vice immediately disappeared. Both male hands lay on my chest, caressing them through a thin fabric. Backwards I involuntarily filed towards a pulsating hill, who with force rested between the buttocks, passing his heat.
One hand of a man slipped down, and then ran up under the blouse again. The bra was pulled away and fingers touched the swelling nipple. I put my hands on his hands, accompanying every movement. Our left hands caressed the chest, and the right traveled along the thigh, raking a skirt into the folds and lifting it higher. Circling the thigh, they were getting closer to the mound between the legs… Finally, a wide palm covered him and began to lightly strok it over the panties. A trembling ran through the body again, the legs became cotton. I turned to Peter’s face and sank to the floor.
– Poor thing, how are you suffering there in crowded, ”I whispered, opening the zipper on trousers with naughty fingers.
The swollen member was clearly not placed in swimming trunks, pulling them forward..
– You are my handsome man, and why are you so hidden? – The stamping belt finally succumbed and the trembling organ almost rested on my face. He has not yet accepted proud posture, but only stretched out in length and switched. The head was also closed with a thin skin, but it no longer fit in the palm of his hand, hot and trembling. In another palm, I took two delicate bags hanging from black thickets that covered and the beginning of this gun. I imagined how this fat, long, shaggy pole rushes between my legs, how our curls are intertwined, how my clit is confused in these thickets…
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