I recall this story as an illustrative example of the struggle for a man in the women's team ...

For a month now, I worked in the kindergarten in the kitchen. The work is not burdensome with complex duties, the team accepted me calmly - I was pleased. All that was missing was communication, as Sergeyevna, the senior cook, was surprisingly not all distinguished by a female peculiarity — talkativeness. Therefore, I gladly dragged the products and carried out all her orders “go and bring” in order to at least occasionally slip out of the kitchen kingdom ...

The box I needed stood at the bottom, tucked under by others. And all were thoroughly heavy. Forces to pull her clearly was not enough for me. I was about to leave this hopeless occupation, when the door suddenly opened, and in the twilight I looked at Peter, a new electrician, who had been invited into the garden by necessity.

“Petrush, help me pull it out,” I turned to him, bending down again to the box.

He walked slowly and ... I felt my hips in the grip of his hands. I quickly straightened up, but I could not do anything: he clasped me tightly and pressed my back to me.

- Let go, damn! - I made another attempt to escape, but he just laughed.

- Twitch a bit, rather you will warm up.

His voice was deaf, his breath uneven - I was overwhelmed by the heat of impotent rage. But for all the silently-desperate attempts to at least turn to face him, he, with his arms wrapped around his hands, only pressed me closer and closer to him. Feeling that the resistance only made his blood hot, I stopped struggling - the grip of my hands immediately weakened.

“That's a clever girl,” he whispered, barely audible.

His left hand tightly held me by the waist, and my right hand over the dress squeezed my chest. With my whole body, I felt his intermittent breathing and the desire that came through in every movement.

- Petruha, leave me alone, because they are waiting for me with this box. If I don’t bring it, they will come here themselves - I hissed, violently resisting.

- No shit will come: I threw another job to them, - he croaked, squeezing his chest more and more.

I distinctly felt how his trousers were growing in his pants, resting on my ass. Suddenly, I remembered how Sveta giggled about the fact that Peter had been waiting for her the other day in a garret closet, raised her skirt and “entertained” two hours after work. "A member of him, like a horse!" - flashed her proud phrase, immediately responding trembling all over his body.

The phrase was also associated with a long-standing feeling of unconscious jealousy - what can be found in this dead pigalice with a draft between his legs, why do peasants stick to it? I do not remain without attention, but after all, almost every day, the knees are scratched, the scarf covers the neck on the neck, or just a sleepy fly crawls all day.

Imagining how Peter pushed his dick into her bony ass, I involuntarily relaxed under the hot wave that rolled over me. He instantly caught my weak movement and the vise disappeared immediately. Both male hands lay on my chest, caressing them through a thin fabric. Backwards, I involuntarily moved more and more towards the pulsating mound, which rested strongly between my buttocks, transmitting my fever.

One man's hand slipped down, and then under the blouse again ran up. The bra was pulled off and her fingers touched the swelling nipple. I put my palms on his hands, accompanying every movement. Our left hands caressed the chest, and the right traveled along the thigh, raking the skirt in the folds and lifting it higher and higher. Circling on the thigh, they were getting closer to the mound between the legs ... Finally, a wide palm covered it and began to lightly stroke over the panties. A shiver ran through her body again, her legs became wadded. I turned to face Peter and sank to the floor.

“Poor thing, how are you tormented there in the cramped place,” I whispered, opening the zipper on my trousers with disobedient fingers.

The swollen member already clearly did not fit in swimming trunks, pulling them forward ..

“You are my beauty, and why have you been so hidden?” - the belt at the bottoms finally succumbed and the quivering organ almost rested against my face. He has not yet taken a proud posture, but only stretched out in length and swollen. The head was also closed with a thin skin, but it no longer fit into the palm of your hand, hot and trembling. In the other hand, I took two tender bags hanging from black thickets that covered the beginning of this tool. With awe, I imagined how this thick, long, shaggy pole rushes between my legs, how our curls intertwine, how my clitoris gets entangled in these thickets ...

With each pulsation, it increased more and more, revealing a head that seemed about to burst from blood flow. As soon as this beauty appeared, I pulled the foreskin on her, and then climbed into the same tongue, taking them around the rim around the pink tykalki. Then she pulled the skin to the root, exposing the head completely and straining the bridle. The thrusts intensified and the gentle head swell right before our eyes. I took the dick with both hands and put the head in her mouth, caressing her tongue. The member rushed deep into the push for the push, but I pulled him down and Peter was beside me.

Without releasing the hot stick from my hand, I unbuttoned my bra and, lifting my blouse up, pressed my chest into Peter's face. He took one nipple with his fingers, the other was in the mouth, and his left hand, holding the skirt up behind, squeezed my buttocks. The member, it seemed to me, was still growing, and I jerked it off, running my hand along the entire length to and fro. A hand on my butt dived under my underpants and spree up the crease, climbing further and further. I spread my legs and the male fingers immediately parted the buttocks, ran through the anus and got entangled in the undergrowth. So they smoothed out;

- Wait, everything interferes - and I remain only in a skirt, dropping everything else. While I take off my clothes, Peter does the same operation, devouring my eyes. His cock sticks forward, dangling from side to side.

“Why didn't you take off your skirt?”

“To tease you,” I laugh, standing in front of him. Stepping back a little, I begin my dance. I wiggle my hips and caress my breasts. Then I begin to spin, slowly lifting the edge of the skirt and bending more and more. I think I know well what men like exactly; Well, the protruding indicator confirms this perfectly. By the time when the blackness of the hair is visible from under the edge of the skirt, it is almost splashing. And then I, putting one foot on Peter's shoulder, pressed my lower abdomen to my face and lowered my skirt on my head. He wraps his hands around my buttocks and presses even more strongly into a hot place. I can feel his lips searching for the clitoris and helping him myself. He gently nibbles this gentle process, then the tongue moves farther and finally finds my vagina. Once again, the legs become wadded and I sink next to him. I leave to him to caress his crotch, and she again pounce on a hot member. I squeeze the solid body with my hands and put my mouth on it, imitating the vagina.

All feelings begin to merge together and, as if in a fog, I realize that the skirt is being pulled off me, my legs are apart wider, the clitoris caresses my tongue, and the vagina and anus merged together under the arms. His fingers excite the edges of the vagina and are looking for another hole ...

His ass bounces and forcefully pushes a huge dick in my mouth over and over again. I take a break from this weapon for a second:

- Fuck my mouth! Still! Still...

I go to the mouth with a continuous burst, either on the cheek, under the tongue, or down the throat ... Between my legs, everything is already burning ...

I pounce on the penis and the seed flow hits my mouth - and then wave after wave comes an orgasm ... I lie, resting, on my back and suddenly I feel surprised that Peter is joining his back again. I lift my head and watch him spread my legs and lift them up. Member ...