.. people. Mostly female, but not always. But always dressed ... differently. One I’ve seen more often than the others, a pretty girl – maybe woma... – with silvery hair. Slim, with a pretty laugh. In a dress. Gown?The first time we spoke, I was sitting on a fallen tree-trunk, listening to the birds making their various calls in the surrounding trees.“Hello, Bert.”You can imagine I was surprised to be addressed by name, and familiarly. “Hello,” I said, quizzically. “Have we met?”“Oh, no, though. He looked back and his eyes narrowed, “What did you have in mind sir?”I waved, “Forget the sir, call me Jason or skipper. I was noticing that the general seems to have forgotten to sign the decommissioning sign off sheet.”He blinked and looked down at his memo board. He scrolled through it and then looked back at me with a nasty grin, “What did you need fixed skipper?”I laughed and started walking, clapping him on the shoulder and bringing him along with me, “Well, now that you mentioned it,. She was so loud that it seemed funny when she said, "Shhhhh, don't make any noise." Whatever, she was the one making all the noise.I thrust into her like a rabbit on Easter. The washing machine rumbled around beneath us. I'm sure that the girls living on the floor beneath must have thought that the sky was falling. We were in a state of complete abandon. Nothing was going to interrupt this fuck. We were definitely making a lot of noise. When I started feeling close, I opened my eyes and. My tool is 8.1″ long and 3″ thick. I work as an operations manager for a steel plate company.I handle the operation in the Middle East and India. I am located in Dubai, and I am a frequent traveler. This is a continuation of my previous story, “Milking My Secretary – Part 1.”I had mentioned in my previous story about my secretary. Her name is Payal. She is a Punjabi girl, 27 years old with a sexy and slim figure. Her figure must be 34-28-34. After our first encounter at her apartment, we were.