stallion

 A Sunday afternoon like from a picture book - a scene like in an English film - “a room with a view” - maybe. Clarice wore one of those nice floral dresses, flat, braided shoes and a matching patent leather belt in a bright old pink. Robert had called that morning, whereupon they decided to go on a really nice, traditional country party. Robert was so excited about the idea that he organized a picnic basket, plaid, and white convertible.

Since he couldn't live out the passion of designing and executing productions in his job, he found it particularly appealing for fun. She enjoyed honing these ideas with a lot of devotion - like children lost in their game.
And - as expected - he had chosen a romantic place, parked the car, spread out the plaid and removed stoneware and glasses from the wicker basket, which was lined with light blue checked fabric, salad, cold chicken, cocktail sauce and pickled artichoke hearts. Red wine, white bread and olives, yogurt and fresh fruit. While she was full, relaxed and completely satisfied on the blanket and - with her head in his lap - enjoying the rays of the sun, she listened somewhat half-heartedly to him. My God, how long she had known him! He really wasn't your dream man. Admittedly, it was very pleasant to be pampered, to have a nice companion in the theater, a charming conversation partner for the boring cocktails and presentations. But that was exactly the complete description: nice,

He didn't look bad either, but she had imagined her dream man to be different in her particularly secret dreams: a certain, authoritarian, “whole man”, the right person to suck honey off her body with a rough tongue , the right one, who grabbed her with strong, knowing hands, was able to take her breath away and let her "knees go weak".
At some point they decided “are you comfortable too? - or would you prefer to stay still ”-“ or did you want to go home? ”……… .. !!!! to go for a walk.
They had taken a piece of bread with them because he knew the place and knew that there were horses there. Robert thought he noticed tension in her and related an amusing episode from his day-to-day negotiations.

They went a long way until one of the promised horses could actually be seen: an Arabian stallion. She stood at the gate and looked at him, fascinated, because she didn't care too much about horses, but found them to be very beautiful. It had an even, dark brown fur that shone in the sun. The animal seemed to her to be young, healthy and strong, and when it took a few steps lazily and bored and she watched its muscles, she wondered what Katharina, the proverbial tsarina, must have felt. Suddenly, as if the animal could read her mind, it let its huge sex organ dangle freely. She hadn't grown up on a farm, but had seen one or the other picture of this natural spectacle. Mares had to have a very extensive construction .. Robert pointed this out to her with amusement. Clarice wasn't exactly amused, but she was kind of intrigued too.

The scene was just running through her head, which she was shaking, as if to drive away these thoughts, when the intercom buzzed: Mr. Dexter is here, woman. She pressed the red button: please send it in! She hated doing the interviews for the architectural community, but someone had to do it. Funny that the choice always fell on women for such delicate tasks ...
She adjusted her floral dress as if it could slip. The thin, heavy fabric hung down as it should be, but she plucked out of habit. The belt was actually not quite suitable for the office, but when she was woken up by the brightest sunshine at 7 a.m. and spring lived up to its name, she stayed with the old pink belt and added very high shoes in the same color. In these she felt "suitable for the office". (Was there actually another stupid word from the magazines?)

"Mr. Dexter" entered her office with the usual, huge folder under his arm. He stepped up to her and offered her a hand for a firm handshake. She perceived a very attractive male being: tall, dark-haired, with a very distinctive voice and very hairy forearms. He, too, had done honor to spring and only wore a short-sleeved, large-checked shirt with his dark blue trousers as she knew it from Milan. He had sunk the Ray Ban in his breast pocket, only the ivory hanger was visible. Classic. All respect, mister student. Incidentally, he hadn't buttoned his shirt too much and she noticed a hint of a hairy man's chest. A dream. There wasn’t anything like it nowadays! Mr. Dexter was seemingly the antithesis. To just about anything.

Across from the desk was a mini seating group for meetings. After ordering coffee, she offered him a seat there. He told of a project that he had the plans with him. Of course, she wanted to know something about himself, his internships and “soft skills”. It was good that she and Viktor, one of her two partners, had designed a sheet that she could use.
Then she asked him to describe his project. He was very enthusiastic and described it almost passionately. He had brightly colored A4 sheets of paper with him, as you know them from real estate agencies and the real estate centers of banks.
To discuss the plan, they went back to the desk because the meeting table was too small in diameter. So Mark unfolded the plan and smoothed it out on her desk, almost devotedly. She had noticed that she was showing female traits. She hated it. She touched her in the neck, threw her mane, she found herself, her lips to ***** s , while very focused and enthusiastic presented her his ideas. Once she tugged at her neckline because it suddenly seemed too deep to her.
Once she made an artificial note in her appointment book to be able to say: "Sorry, could you repeat that please - I was distracted". It actually was, but not from an incident. She left the office briefly to gather outside. In the toilet, she reprimanded her reflection, saying that spring fever was really out of place here. At least she dropped her panties on her breathtakingly high pumps and unthreaded them. She let the slip disappear into her handbag - after all, the dress wasn't see-through. She briefly remembered the terrific film "Thomas Crown is unbelievable, where this absolutely great woman on the disco toilet had made her underdress disappear and came back completely transparent with it."

When she re-entered her office, her desk was completely covered with his plan and he was standing in front of it thoughtfully, with an angled arm and propped up thinking forehead. For fun, she pressed the “please do not disturb” button when entering and stepped energetically closer. She motioned for him to continue and he explained busily. She stood close to him and could not concentrate again, she had his distinctive, masculine scent in her nose: God had chosen it well. Suddenly she realized that she had unlocked and - body contact. His firm bottom was so tightly encircled by the pants that she was afraid the side seam would burst. She actually only knew that from strippers and gays. And she couldn't care less, because it was none of her business. She noticed him cautiously and hesitantly. Thank God. Who knows,

Explained something at the top of the map, bending over it. Probably to be able to show her that exactly, this time he unlocked it and she soon felt as if he were leaning very lightly against her body. She took a step to the right and pushed him away from the table. He allowed that and therefore found himself behind her. She pretended this position had no meaning and let him explain further. Soon she pushed back a little and waited for his reaction. He didn't evade. So she moved a little to and fro to "drive him crazy" a little. She stroked her hair and noticed an initial reaction. Totally lulled by his smell, she snuggled up against him and sharpened a little until he caught her and took her with a hard grip on the pelvis to stop her. She had noticed that their actions were not without reaction. She took his hands and led them back, right to her pobakcen. He held it firmly in his hand and began to stroke it a little. Clarice tugged at the dress and pulled on it until she had pulled up the entire back of the skirt and he had her bare buttocks in his hand. She let the skirt slide over her hands and down, so you wouldn't have noticed too much from the outside. She put her hands on his and motioned for him to knead them, which he did. She had noticed his beautiful hands with the hairy backs of the hands and the hairy phalanges. She reached back and kneaded his firm bottom. He held it firmly in his hand and began to stroke it a little. Clarice tugged at the dress and pulled on it until she had pulled up the entire back of the skirt and he had her bare buttocks in his hand. She let the skirt slide over her hands and down, so you wouldn't have noticed too much from the outside. She put her hands on his and motioned for him to knead them, which he did. She had noticed his beautiful hands with the hairy backs of the hands and the hairy phalanges. She reached back and kneaded his firm bottom. He held it firmly in his hand and began to stroke it a little. Clarice tugged at the dress and pulled on it until she had pulled up the entire back of the skirt and he had her bare buttocks in his hand. She let the skirt slide over her hands and down, so you wouldn't have noticed too much from the outside. She put her hands on his and motioned for him to knead them, which he did. She had noticed his beautiful hands with the hairy backs of the hands and the hairy phalanges. She reached back and kneaded his firm bottom. She let the skirt slide over her hands and down, so you wouldn't have noticed too much from the outside. She put her hands on his and motioned for him to knead them, which he did. She had noticed his beautiful hands with the hairy backs of the hands and the hairy phalanges. She reached back and kneaded his firm bottom. She let the skirt slide over her hands and down, so you wouldn't have noticed too much from the outside. She put her hands on his and motioned for him to knead them, which he did. She had noticed his beautiful hands with the hairy backs of the hands and the hairy phalanges. She reached back and kneaded his firm bottom.
Then she reached right behind her, undid his belt, and freed his cooped up member. She literally felt how it stood stretched forward in confusion. So she pulled on her hem again until her bottom was exposed and pressed against his glans. The cheeky piece lifted her right leg, placed it together with the beautiful pumps on the desk and spoiled her a little with the tip of her finger. A moan escaped her as he slowly pushed his glans between the so totally spread labia. At first it was to be assumed that he would redeem her with the extensive, wonderful ride that now followed. But then it turned out that the movement of the aftermath was enough to motivate him again. As if he could read her mind, he massaged her breasts a little, firmly took her by the neck and pressed her face down on the table. He got down on his knees and pampered her with his tongue, before he started again and she took the position like a stallion his mare.