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Sandra had been lucky thus far and hadn't met one of those special breed of males that liked to dish out pain to their partners. Gretchen had her fair share of that type of macho men and most of the time she found them a nice change from the namby-pamby office workers too shy for girlfriends and in desperate need of pussy.She didn't think Sandra would last long in the game because she was adamantly opposed to taking it up the bum and still had an aversion to swallowing no matter how much the gentleman promised to pay her. She was a too much of a "nice" girl to last long with the customers that preyed on the easily influenced street girls and played with their emotions like poker players with unreadable eyes. Gretchen thought she was hiding a boyfriend on the side that she was siphoning cash to like she was some sort of piggybank that creating money simply by spreading her legs.A banged-up car slowed and pulled up next to them. The driver lowered the window and Gretchen saw he was. Wrapped in his embrace, I sank with him to the hay. Our legs wide and interlaced we sank into our soft bed. Softer than I imagined, the hay, though as I moved, it occasionally scraped at my bare arms and shoulders. He slid the plain cotton straps of my shell top off my shoulders, his fingertips brushing my skin all the way down, raising the blonde hair on my arms and the back of my neck. He undid half the buttons, and opened my top so that my breasts were exposed to the cool barn air. My nipples stood up as if reaching toward him. He took both soft breasts in both his hands and kissed each abundant breast softly, before encircling each nipple, one then the other with his insistent, but soft tongue. I stretched my arms out in abandon. I was giving myself up to this. I slipped my hands up his soft flannel shirt, fingertips lingering at the taut lean stomach. One by one, I unbuttoned the buttons on his shirt, until his whole, hairless chest was pressed against mine. I rolled on top of.
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