I feel something touch my thigh. I’m curious as to what it is. Is it you? I fear that it is, as deep down I hope it is. I feel a pressure on my ope...ing. It’s cold. I know it is not you. I’m disappointed. The pressure intensifies. It feels so good. The tip is inside me. It feels too big. I feel my muscles stretching to accommodate the object. You push it in a little farther. My body strains to make room. You keep pushing the object into me until I feel it hit my cervix. You start fucking me. "The Sound of Music," the three girls said at the same time."Remember what the oldest daughter tells Maria when she first introduces herself?" She said that she was 16 and didn't need a governess," Ana, who knew the entire movie by heart, said quickly."Correct," said Pietro, "which leads me to a question I put to you now; you three are 15 going on 16 in a world were children grow up much faster than when that movie was made, do you really need a babysitter?" Pietro smiled at them as he said. Eventually, by seven thirty-five, with a final kiss, they were off. He gave a final wave before stepping indoors for another cup of strong coffee. He had quite a lot to do for the day. A nice Valentine’s Day dinner would hopefully improve his chances of getting some leg-over that evening.His thoughts piercing through the steam wafting from the scalding black liquid were interrupted by his phone ringing.He looked at the screen and smiled. Sally was the one woman he would not mind screwing. But. She was accustomed to the thrust of thick and short, long and thin, fat and stubby, penises thrusting into her, admittedly stiff, but not necessarily satisfying. Nowhere near as expert as the pricks whose taste she enjoyed in her professional capacity. And none of the men treated her like a girl, with a career, deserving respect. She was always ‘dearie’ or ‘sweetie’. And gradually, she came to realise that these men, so pathetic and unappealing in bed, were senior people in the world of.