“You’re … You’re one of them!”My head shook violently. “No. No! I’m not!” But then, the other six had joined her and my heart was b...ating six times faster than it should. All of them accused me of being “one of them”---a West-Sider. I knew cheerleaders were athletic but I never knew one could grab my shirt so fast! Olivia’s left hand had seized the top of my shirt and her seething face was close enough that I could smell nicotine. Her voice changed from a low scream to a bothersome. It felt great. "It feels neat," she said. "It feels hot." "Your hand's cold." "Oh," she said, and then, "I'll warm it up," and she breathedon my cock, short hot breaths, like she was panting. Like she'd run amile or...or something. My balls tightened. I could feel myself gettingready to come. I tried not to clench my butt. "I like how you smell,"she told me. "Uh, Spike?" I really didn't want to come in front of her. "Your balls are really neat. Kinda--compact." She traced herfingers along. This time I had to take a bold step. I told her that you would help me with washing my back. I also said my back is itching because of sweat, and tiny pimples are popping out. She said, “Don’t worry, I will give an oil massage and then help you in washing your back.”My blood in my dick started flowing with high pressure and waited till the next day. The next day, the same routine continued, and she told me to tie a towel and sit in the bathroom. I said, okay. She came she started applying to my. As much fun as I had, I had to go into the office, which sucked, because it was a Saturday. After some coffee and some breakfast, I headed in. I was the only one there, which made things a little more bearable. Around two in the afternoon, I thought I heard someone come in. I didn't get up to see who it was, but I soon enough found out. It was Desiree. She was a beautiful secretary who worked with our unit. She and I had talked in the past, but it never went beyond work pleasantries. Anyway,.