During my college years, at the age of 22, I worked various odd jobs over the summer to supplement my income. I frequently checked the job board on campus, calling numbers listed for any work I could find. One of the more unique jobs that summer took me to a local farm, advertised as requiring only light weeding and gathering wood for a burn pile.
Upon my arrival, I was greeted by Mrs. Olverio. She appeared to be around 45 years old, with a fit physique and long blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a sundress that accentuated her curves beautifully, and at one point, I couldn't help but notice the distinct outline of her hard nipples through the fabric. She sipped what seemed to be a gin and tonic as she showed me around the property, outlining the various tasks she needed done. I set to work, the image of her striking figure lingering in my mind.
One of my tasks involved moving recycling bins into a shed. Inside, I stumbled upon a box filled with an extensive porn collection. Intrigued, I began to peruse the assortment, becoming increasingly aroused—so much so that I didn't hear Mrs. Olverio approach. I was startled when I realized she was standing there, observing my flushed face. She explained nonchalantly that the magazines belonged to her son before she shut the door behind us.
Without a word, Mrs. Olverio knelt before me. Her hands expertly sized up my arousal through my pants before she unzipped them and enveloped me in the warm depths of her mouth. Her technique was exquisite, her tongue expertly playing with me as she took me deeper. Caught in the heat of the moment, she stepped out of her sundress, revealing more of her stunning body.
She then guided me to the floor and straddled my face, her skin silky smooth against my lips. As I explored her with my tongue, she intensified her efforts on me, the pleasure mounting. I couldn't resist exploring further, my hands roaming, contemplating the boundaries she might let me cross. Her responsive movements and the heat of our intertwined bodies suggested she was open to more exploration.
As our encounter escalated, her movements grew more fervent. Her body responded to every touch, every motion with increasing urgency. The confined space of the shed, the secrecy of our liaison, and the raw intensity of our connection fueled a crescendo of pleasure that neither of us seemed prepared for but were wholly immersed in.
This impromptu, intense experience on a seemingly ordinary summer day marked one of my most unforgettable encounters, highlighting an intense personal connection that transcended the simple tasks I had set out to accomplish that day.
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