Sure! I don’t have anything going, anyway! I’d be happy to!” I replied. “Why don’t you stop by tomorrow. And I’ll show you exactly what I ...eed. OK?” she said as she turned, stared at my tented crotch, and smiled. I immediately headed for my bedroom, grabbing a box marked ‘baseball cards’ from under the bed. Opening the box, I pulled out a dog eared copy of an old skin mag. I had found. Flipped it open to photo of a young, large breasted girl, bent at the waist, ass in the air, and a come hither. .Then the thought hit me like a hammer: those bastards wanted my pussy, not my purse. I screamed for help, but that only got my head banged against the wall. Both niggers grabbed my arms and pulled me out to one of the picnic areas out of the light, after looking around to make sure nobody else could see us.One of them slapped my face, ordering me to strip off my clothes.But his mate was not so patient; so he made me bend over a wooden table and lifted my summer dress up to my waist.He laughed. I stand up and approach the hole, touching my rod against his. It's so warm! Just as I've often read, there is no other way to describe the feeling except that it's as if two electrodes touched. It is absolutely electric. I wrap my hand around both shafts, stroking them back and forth and holding them together.This is marvelous, but I have to have more. The hundreds of times I've fantasized about being with a guy, it often starts with mutual masturbation. But it never ends there. Not ever.. Fingertips sank into my buttocks, clawed at the silk and dragged the sensuous material across my skin. My loins melted into my knickers. I was already ready for him. Our hips ground together. The prodding in my belly told me he was ready too.‘Close the door, sailor.’He seemed to wake from a trance, leaped and slammed the door closed. ‘I could lose my job. You do know that?’‘Go then!’ I lay back on the bed, lifted my dress to my waist then pressed the bunched up material against my pussy. He.