Climbed down the ladder, grabbed my shorts from the work bench and before I could slip them on, they let themselves in and said "don't get dressed on ...ur account!," laughing and smiling and pulling at the shorts in my hands that I was using to cover my cock, that had grown hard as a rock. C'mon, let's see what you've got! they said smiling.I let up on my grip of my shorts, allowing them to pull them away, exposing my genitals in plain view as I stood there, not knowing what to do. It's one. Instead of skirt the black evening dress was on me, well combined with my blonde hair, black nylon stockings with garter belt and pink high-heeled shoes. As always in such cases, from me emanated the fragrance of my favourite French perfume Chanel # 5 Grand Extrait.We found a bench among the huge neglected shrubs and sat down. We chatted about various nonsense about 30 minutes, I laughed coquettishly and made eyes for Sasha. But it was obvious that the lad was afraid of decisive action. At last. More

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