Fumble. Rustle. My sighs evaporate into thin air as you grapple with my shorts, pulling them down my legs and exposing my hot cunt to the still, sweat... air. You prize my legs apart and insert two rigid fingers, which grind against the tense walls of my pussy. You frig me hard, panting in my ear and your dick boring into the back of my leg. Again, I turn to look around and you push my forehead into the cold, synthetic dividing wall behind me. I open my legs wider to take you in, desperate to be. "I'm hoping that you two lads will give me a hand lifting the doors off the hinges so I can replace the uprights – the left one has started rotting, and I might as well do both." No problem, Dad."Mum had a lunch of soup, followed by cold chicken in white sauce with fried potatoes, ready for us very quickly, and once that was eaten and cleared away, Hamish and I followed Dad out to the garage.The most difficult job was getting the old screws to turn; some were rusted solid, others had several. More

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