I wanted tongue and tits for $1,000, so I slipped my left hand under her tank and bikini tops and squeezed her right breast hard. She screamed into my...lips, and I slipped my tongue in. I found her nipple and played with it until it was hard. The teen cheerleader slowly stopped resisting and kissed me back. Why? I'm not sure. Maybe because if she resisted the other girls would see, or maybe she was secretly thrilled at doing the naughty with an old man. Whatever the reason, I had her partially. She was no good at any of the tasks she had to perform, although it was her frequent sexual favours for which she was rewarded and earned some quite bitchy envy from other girls on the production line, who commented quite openly that if she’d not been so pretty she’d have been kicked out for her incompetence from the very first day. Zeta took the girls to other factories, none of which were as near as the chicken factory and none of them at all pleasant to work in. There was a cigarette factory. " Doesn't matter, it's still true. Come on, don't tell me you didn't look at that sweet hard ass of hers, tell me you didn't love how her titties pressed against the old and thin fabric of that cheap t-shirt she worse, lie to my face and say you didn't like how her hard nipples tried to break free harder than myself when I was imprisonded for political reasons. Tell me, man, and I'll tell you you're a fucking liar. I can see your cock getting hard in those boxers, which you should probably. ..An idea bubbled up past my fears and worries. I could go up! Above me were the strong, leafy branches of the tree. I scampered up its trunk, climbing into the branches as I tried unsuccessfully to protect my most sensitive spots of my pussy from the rough bark. I silently thanked my childhood visits to the village where the boys always lost their Frisbee in the trees and forcing me to go up and get it as a kid. That practice had finally worked now for me. I was in the middle of climbing onto.