True Build Credit

In fact, the only scenario in which donors did not prefer giving online, was when making a donation to an organization they’re unfamiliar with. With all this data supporting online giving, what are the best ways to approach donors and ask for an online donation? Here are the top seven ways:

Ask for smaller donations. Our study revealed a preference for online giving for donations below the $200 level. Some organizations will host campaigns where they ask donors for a donation of $20.18 to support their 2018 fundraising efforts. For a donation of this size, use online fundraising to easily collect more donations.
Ask in the moment. If you’re working with a quick timeline, in the case of a political statement, news event, or natural disaster, an online donation page can take moments to set up and is much less expensive than creating an offline donation campaign, printing materials, stuffing envelopes, and sending letters. With this quick turnaround, you can reach people when they’re emotional and they’re more willing to react and support to right away.
Focus on a monthly, online giving program. In today’s world, most people are familiar with the “subscription” model used by companies like Netflix and Amazon. They pay a set amount per month for their service, and funds are automatically taken from their account, so they don’t need to worry about paying a bill to receive service. Organizations can think about their monthly giving as a subscription for donors. You can create a special club name, provide organization “swag,” and send monthly updates showing the impact of donations.
Create a simple and concise online donation form with one call-to-action: Donate! After donors give online, you have their email address and can reach out to thank them, ask them to follow you on social media, get feedback via a survey, and more. Online giving gives you a frictionless way to collect donations and get in touch with donors after the fact, so you’re not distracting them from the task at hand.
Ask donors to give online at events. If your organization hosts a donation campaign or fund-the-need at your event, consider doing it electronically. With an electronic fund-the-need, your MC or auctioneer can make the same call for donations. And, using event fundraising technology, the progress to goal can be tracked in real-time and displayed in front of the crowd to increase excitement and encourage more donations.
Develop engaging social media content to drive donations. Whether your organization is using Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Instagram, or another platform, you can easily link your online donation page to the social media post and make it simple for donors to give if they’re on the computer or on their phone.
Go Mobile! Nearly three-quarters of donors who responded to our survey said they had given a donation in the past 12 months on a mobile device. Some 14 percent of those donors made the donation via a text message. Using text messaging to share donation links can be an effective way to reach donors on their phones.
It’s clear that donor preference for online giving is growing across all age groups and income levels. Your organization should make it seamless for donors to give online with clear donation forms, a simple call-to-action, and a mobile-friendly website. Partnering with an event fundraising technology company and using a CRM can help you reach more donors and personalize your fundraising materials.

It’s important, however, to not completely rely on online fundraising. Some donors do prefer giving offline, and you want to ensure you’re providing them the opportunity to give via check or cash, so you don’t lose their donation!

To learn more about the study and the data points discussed, watch this informative webinar: The Digital Tipping Point: Online Fundraising and Giving Trends Webinar. Our experts take a deeper dive into some of the numbers and discuss their best recommendations for all aspects of online fundraising.

He used his fingertips to open up her delicate pink folds and slowly slipped his long tongue into her tunnel of love. Her body jerked upwards as he penetrated deep inside and then he began to lick her wet crack from bottom to top using the tip of one finger to stretch it gently downward.

Beula started to shake and writhe like someone going into a fit, she cried out, “Holy shit, Holy fucking shit,” several times as his extraordinary organ moved up and down, up and down. When as she felt herself cumming she grabbed on to his hair forcing his face deeper and firmer into her well-lubricated vajayjay.

With a hot flush permeating her entire body she let out a piercing scream and began to shake uncontrollably. Releasing his head she leaned back hyperventilating and in-between taking deep breaths she murmured, “That was great Shaun – really great.”

He just sat there on the floor stroking the inside of her thighs until she told him to stand up, “You deserve a reward,” she smiled, “I’m going to suck your cock.”

Shaun quickly responded to her request and Beula leaned forward taking his dick in one hand and his balls in the other. “Now I’m going to suck you dry,” she said, in an almost vindictive manner. The next thing he knew she was plunging his throbbing shaft into her mouth working up and down it as if she couldn’t wait for a mouth full of cum.

If this had been any female it would have felt fucking good but here he was been sucked off by a famous movie star – it seemed to add a completely new dimension to the experience. When he felt his goop moving up from his balls he called out “I cumming – I’m cumming,” and when he did explode inside her mouth it escalated to “I’M CUMMING!!!”

Wow but I much prefer the Zune Marketplace. The interface is colorful, has more flair, and some cool features like Mixview' that let you quickly see related albums, songs, or other users related to what you're listening to. Clicking on one of those will center on that item, and another set of neighbors will come into view, allowing you to navigate around exploring by similar artists, songs, or users. Speaking of users, the Zune Social is also great fun, letting you find others with shared tastes and becoming friends with them. You then can listen to a playlist created based on an amalgamation of what all your friends are listening to, which is also enjoyable. Those concerned with privacy will be relieved to know you can prevent the public from seeing your personal listening habits if you so choose.

The campus is the setting for many ostentatious efforts to do good. “One day I was walking down the steps and there were pieces of paper all over the sidewalks, and they all had arrows [on them] and said, ‘Careful. Watch out. Butterfly chrysalis,’” Dean Carter, the vice president of human resources, told me.

If this conspicuous altruism is grating to some people, they do not work at Patagonia. Still, the company says that it does not only recruit environmentally conscious do-gooders. “If we picked people who fit a specific mould, it could feel really culty,” Carter said. “But we’re just looking for threads; we’re not looking for the entire quilt. We’re looking for threads of caring for the environment, threads of caring about the outdoors, and threads of caring about families, collaborating, working.”

In a not-necessarily-cultish way, a lot of Patagonia employees go on to marry other Patagonia employees, and family members often work there too. Carter’s own daughter is a receptionist.


Yvon Chouinard in his workshop at the Patagonia headquarters in Ventura, California.

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest

Yvon Chouinard in his workshop at the Patagonia headquarters in Ventura, California. Photograph: Victoria Sayer Pearson/AP

Companies wishing to improve their public image drop by to see if a little ethical stardust will rub off on them. Coca-Cola flew in a team from South Africa. There was even a visit from Chick-Fil-A, the US fast food chain famous for taking a public stance against same-sex marriage in 2012. I registered my surprise. “Exactly! And I have a partner. So they asked me if they could come. I was kind of like, ‘Are you sure?’” Carter says. “And obviously we don’t share their values. But they have their very specific culture that they’re living. And they were really sweet and kind.”

When Neil Blumenthal, co-founder of the fashionable eyewear startup Warby Parker, came to visit, he was impressed by how much work went into research and development – he mentioned the way Patagonia tests its raincoats with waters of various alkalinity to mimic rain in different parts of the world. But what really struck him, he said, was the venue for his meeting with two Patagonia executives: “Instead of taking the meeting in a conference room, we took a walk to the beach. For me it was pretty special; for them it was quite ordinary.”

Ridgeway – whose job as vice president of public engagement is to represent the company, whether at conferences or universities, or to executives who come to the Ventura headquarters – described the process of meeting visitors: “They go on a tour, we walk around and talk about the values and how we live the values. Usually we get some local organically grown food and we answer questions and share a story,” Ridgeway told me. “And then we are curious what their story is.”

Ridgeway can sometimes sound a little weary at having to explain to outsiders a way of life that comes quite naturally to him. “We don’t want to hold ourselves up in some arrogant exclusivity,” Ridgeway said, but then described the kind of customer that Patagonia does not “necessarily want to invite under our umbrella”. Namely, people who want to climb Mount Everest for bragging rights – the sort of affluent adventurers, drawn to climbing in part by Patagonia, whose impact Chouinard now regrets so much. “Someone who has paid $100,000 for a guided climb where the sherpas put the route in and risked their lives fixing the lines and carried all your stuff up for you and positioned your oxygen balls so you could go up and come back and say you climbed Everest. That doesn’t work for us,” Ridgeway says. “And we don’t mind saying it publicly.”

In its pursuit of authenticity, Patagonia tries to avoid malls, and only takes over spaces that mean something to the community. (One of its four Manhattan stores is located on the Bowery, next to the former location of the punk club CBGB, which is now a John Varvatos boutique.) It prides itself on pushing up against the limits of how ethical a company can be while actually still selling things: quality goods, ethical labour and manufacturing, no debt, even a tax strategy, according to Chouinard’s book, “to pay our fair share and not a penny more”.

The company is hyper-aware of these contradictions, perhaps to the point of tying itself in knots. In 2011, on Black Friday, the biggest shopping day of the year in the US, Patagonia ran an ad featuring a photo of a plush blue fleece, and copy that read DON’T BUY THIS JACKET. The advert invited customers to make a commitment to reduce what they buy, repair their gear and recycle the stuff they no longer need. (Patagonia’s campus in Reno, Nevada houses the largest garment repair facility in North America.) But it had the opposite effect: Patagonia’s Black Friday sales increased by 30% over the previous year. The anti-sales message, as they might have expected, made consumers feel better about buying more.


Patagonia’s Don’t Buy This Jacket advert.

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest

Patagonia’s Don’t Buy This Jacket advert. Photograph: PR

The company’s attempts to expand into new markets have a similar blend of moral commitment and financial savvy. In 2013, it launched a venture fund to invest in environmentally and socially responsible for-profit startups. In 2012, the company launched a food line named Patagonia Provisions, which includes buffalo jerky, smoked wild Sockeye salmon and, beginning last October, a beer made with a grain called kernza, which can be grown year-round. The target market is “concerned moms that want to make sure they’re giving their kids organic, non-GMO food”, Rose Marcario told me. The new food division, she added, has won the company “a whole new set of customers”.


At the headquarters of The North Face in Alameda – just across the bay from San Francisco – there is a similar preoccupation with being green and avoiding waste. During a visit last summer, I had a lunch of sustainably raised salmon with Todd Spaletto, who became president of the company in 2011. The building where we dined was insulated with recycled blue jeans, and there were composting bins, solar panels and free charging stations for electric cars. One building housed a vast area dedicated to repairing clothes under the company’s lifetime warranty. As we ate, a team out on the lawn was testing out the set-up of a large, complicated-looking hexagonal tent.

A visitor to The North Face campus encounters the same sporty feel as at Patagonia HQ – but instead of Patagonia’s crunchy “soul surfer” vibe, here there is an edge of elite athleticism, whether in the form of employees doing bootcamp workouts and agility drills in the well-equipped gym, or a casual mention that Dean Karnazes was there just the other day, leading a group run along the water.

“One of my first weeks on the job, I was talking to somebody and they were like, ‘What are you doing this weekend?’” Spaletto recalled, smiling. “I was like, ‘I’m pretty excited, I’m running a half-marathon.’ And they were like” – and here he adopted a tone reserved for motivating small children – “‘That’s great, you gotta start somewhere!’”

Lately The North Face has been focusing more and more on a younger, casual customer whose main interest in hiking is the part where they get to drink beer around a campfire. “Why does the youthful millennial consumer go outdoors?” Spaletto asked. “They value one thing above all else. It’s this whole idea of these genuine experiential moments that you share with your friends.”

These youthful consumers may even decide they can afford to skip the hike and go straight to the beer. But as The North Face positions itself as a fashion brand as much as an outdoor wear company, a new dilemma arises. The casual customer is drawn both to style and to the authenticity of owning real technical gear – but if the gear itself announces its technical utility too loudly, it ceases to be fashionable.

“The outdoor industry has prided itself on showing the technology on the outside – seams sealed, zippers taped. That is very much core to this industry, everybody does it,” said Sumie Scott, the senior product director for “mountain culture” at The North Face. “But the more youthful consumer wants hidden technology. So that’s the challenge, how do you get them to know that technology exists?”

“What The North Face tries to push is this high, high performance extremity,” said Cathy Begien, who worked in visual merchandising at The North Face a decade ago, and has since gone on to work at Prada, Opening Ceremony, and Warby Parker. “They would say, ‘Cathy use Everest imagery or rock climbing.’ But I’m in a mall and people are pushing strollers around at 8am. I don’t think they care about whether an alpinist would want this, or an ultra-marathoner,” Begien recalled. “Holiday season was the only time I didn’t have to talk about mountain climbing or water rafting and could just show a bunch of jackets in a way the typical mall consumer can understand: this one is gonna keep you warm, this one is gonna keep you warmer, this one is gonna keep you warmest.”

The high cost of North Face gear creates high expectations: “You get a fairly affluent customer who expects meticulous service. You have to behave as though you’re working at a Vuitton or a Gucci,” said Caitlin Kelly, a journalist who took a job at a North Face outlet in suburban New York after losing her reporting job during the 2008 recession, and wrote a book, titled Malled, about the experience. “It was a long, narrow store. And when you walked in, half the store was fashion, half was ‘Let’s climb Everest’. It was massively confusing to the shopper.”

The North Face wants to do style and adventure. It has collaborated on slippers and puffer jackets with Supreme, the skateboarding brand with a cult following. (Drake wore a jacket from the collection in the video for his 2011 single The Motto.) The trend among makers of serious technical gear is for designs that don’t look like you are about to climb to Camp 4 on Everest – while at the same time, couture designers are increasingly showing items inspired by authentic outdoor gear. Patrik Ervell, Steven Alan and Louis Vuitton have all designed fleece jackets that appear to be a riff on Patagonia’s Retro-X; puffer jackets have started to appear on the covers of fashion magazines, thanks in part to Balenciaga’s $3,000 parkas.

The desire to broadcast a sense of adventure while still looking good may have something to do with the biggest trend in athletic gear in recent years: the rise of “athleisure” – clothes that suggest, rather than insist on, performance, designed to transition from workout to sofa. Leggings – whether made by The Gap or Alexander Wang – are the most popular form of sporting loungewear (or is it lounging sportswear), having replaced denim as the preferred casual wear for women. The UK sportswear market will surpass £8bn by 2020, fuelled by the rise of athleisure. In addition to gear for high-altitude camping and open-water diving, both The North Face and Patagonia sell leggings and sweatpants and T-shirts and all manner of gear best suited for hanging out.


When I first learned about Zeiler’s work, I expected the consistent schedule to work best. But that’s not what happened at all. The results weren’t even close: the pigeons pecked almost twice as often when the reward wasn’t guaranteed. Their brains, it turned out, were releasing far more dopamine when the reward was unexpected than when it was predictable. Zeiler had documented an important fact about positive feedback: that less is often more. His pigeons were drawn to the mystery of mixed feedback just as humans are attracted to the uncertainty of gambling.

Decades after Zeiler published his results, in 2012, a team of Facebook web developers prepared to unleash a similar feedback experiment on hundreds of millions of humans. The site already had 200 million users at the time – a number that would triple over the next three years. The experiment took the form of a deceptively simple new feature called a “like button”.

It’s hard to exaggerate how much the like button changed the psychology of Facebook use. What had begun as a passive way to track your friends’ lives was now deeply interactive, and with exactly the sort of unpredictable feedback that motivated Zeiler’s pigeons. Users were gambling every time they shared a photo, web link or status update. A post with zero “likes” wasn’t just privately painful, but also a kind of public condemnation: either you didn’t have enough online friends, or, worse still, your online friends weren’t impressed. Like pigeons, we’re more driven to seek feedback when it isn’t guaranteed. Facebook was the first major social networking force to introduce the like button, but others now have similar functions. You can like and repost tweets on Twitter, pictures on Instagram, posts on Google+, columns on LinkedIn, and videos on YouTube.

The act of liking became the subject of etiquette debates. What did it mean to refrain from liking a friend’s post? If you liked every third post, was that an implicit condemnation of the other posts? Liking became a form of basic social support – the online equivalent of laughing at a friend’s joke in public.

Web developer Rameet Chawla developed an app as a marketing exercise, but also a social experiment, to uncover the effect of the like button. When he launched it, Chawla posted this introduction on its homepage: “People are addicted. We experience withdrawals. We are so driven by this drug, getting just one hit elicits truly peculiar reactions. I’m talking about likes. They’ve inconspicuously emerged as the first digital drug to dominate our culture.”


Chawla’s app, called Lovematically, was designed to automatically like every picture that rolled through its users’ newsfeeds. It wasn’t even necessary to impress them any more; any old post was good enough to inspire a like. Apart from enjoying the warm glow that comes from spreading good cheer, Chawla – for the first three months, the app’s only user – also found that people reciprocated. They liked more of his photos, and he attracted an average of 30 new followers a day, a total of almost 3,000 followers during the trial period. On Valentine’s Day 2014, Chawla allowed 5,000 Instagram users to download a beta version of the app. After only two hours, Instagram shut down Lovematically for violating the social network’s terms of use.

“I knew way before launching it that it would get shut down by Instagram,” Chawla said. “Using drug terminology, you know, Instagram is the dealer and I’m the new guy in the market giving away the drug for free.”

Chawla was surprised, though, that it happened so quickly. He’d hoped for at least a week of use, but Instagram pounced immediately.


When I moved to the United States for postgraduate studies in 2004, online entertainment was limited. These were the days before Instagram, Twitter, and YouTube – and Facebook was limited to students at Harvard. One evening, I stumbled on a game called Sign of the Zodiac (Zodiac for short) that demanded very little mental energy.

Zodiac was a simple online slot machine, much like the actual slot machines in casinos: you decided how much to wager, lazily clicked a button over and over again, and watched as the machine spat out wins and losses. At first, I played to relieve the stress of long days filled with too much thinking, but the brief “ding” that followed each small win, and the longer melody that followed each major win, hooked me fast. Eventually screenshots of the game would intrude on my day. I’d picture five pink scorpions lining up for the game’s highest jackpot, followed by the jackpot melody that I can still conjure today. I had a minor behavioural addiction, and these were the sensory hangovers of the random, unpredictable feedback that followed each win.

My Zodiac addiction wasn’t unusual. For 13 years, Natasha Dow Schüll, a cultural anthropologist, studied gamblers and the machines that hook them. She collected descriptions of slot machines from gambling experts and current and former addicts, which included the following: “Slots are the crack cocaine of gambling … electronic morphine ... the most virulent strain of gambling in the history of man … Slots are the premier addiction delivery device.”

These are sensationalised descriptions, but they capture how easily people become hooked on slot-machine gambling. I can relate, because I became addicted to a slots game that wasn’t even doling out real money. The reinforcing sound of a win after the silence of several losses was enough for me.

In the US, banks are not allowed to handle online gambling winnings, which makes online gambling practically illegal. Very few companies are willing to fight the system, and the ones that do are quickly defeated. That sounds like a good thing, but free and legal games such as Sign of the Zodiac can also be dangerous. At casinos, the deck is stacked heavily against the player; on average the house has to win. But the house doesn’t have to win in a game without money.

As David Goldhill, the chief executive officer of the Game Show Network, which also produces many online games, told me: “Because we’re not restricted by having to pay real winnings, we can pay out $120 for every $100 played. No land-based casino could do that for more than a week without going out of business.” As a result, the game can continue forever because the player never runs out of chips. I played Sign of the Zodiac for four years and rarely had to start a new game. I won roughly 95% of the time. The game only ended when I had to eat or sleep or attend class in the morning. And sometimes it didn’t even end then.

Casinos win most of the time, but they have a clever way of convincing gamblers that the outcomes are reversed. Early slot machines were incredibly simple devices: the player pulled the machine’s arm to spin its three mechanical reels. If the centre of the reels displayed two or more of the same symbol when they stopped spinning, the player won a certain number of coins or credits. Today, slot machines allow gamblers

The campus is the setting for many ostentatious efforts to do good. “One day I was walking down the steps and there were pieces of paper all over the sidewalks, and they all had arrows [on them] and said, ‘Careful. Watch out. Butterfly chrysalis,’” Dean Carter, the vice president of human resources, told me.

If this conspicuous altruism is grating to some people, they do not work at Patagonia. Still, the company says that it does not only recruit environmentally conscious do-gooders. “If we picked people who fit a specific mould, it could feel really culty,” Carter said. “But we’re just looking for threads; we’re not looking for the entire quilt. We’re looking for threads of caring for the environment, threads of caring about the outdoors, and threads of caring about families, collaborating, working.”

In a not-necessarily-cultish way, a lot of Patagonia employees go on to marry other Patagonia employees, and family members often work there too. Carter’s own daughter is a receptionist.


Yvon Chouinard in his workshop at the Patagonia headquarters in Ventura, California.

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest

Yvon Chouinard in his workshop at the Patagonia headquarters in Ventura, California. Photograph: Victoria Sayer Pearson/AP

Companies wishing to improve their public image drop by to see if a little ethical stardust will rub off on them. Coca-Cola flew in a team from South Africa. There was even a visit from Chick-Fil-A, the US fast food chain famous for taking a public stance against same-sex marriage in 2012. I registered my surprise. “Exactly! And I have a partner. So they asked me if they could come. I was kind of like, ‘Are you sure?’” Carter says. “And obviously we don’t share their values. But they have their very specific culture that they’re living. And they were really sweet and kind.”

When Neil Blumenthal, co-founder of the fashionable eyewear startup Warby Parker, came to visit, he was impressed by how much work went into research and development – he mentioned the way Patagonia tests its raincoats with waters of various alkalinity to mimic rain in different parts of the world. But what really struck him, he said, was the venue for his meeting with two Patagonia executives: “Instead of taking the meeting in a conference room, we took a walk to the beach. For me it was pretty special; for them it was quite ordinary.”

Ridgeway – whose job as vice president of public engagement is to represent the company, whether at conferences or universities, or to executives who come to the Ventura headquarters – described the process of meeting visitors: “They go on a tour, we walk around and talk about the values and how we live the values. Usually we get some local organically grown food and we answer questions and share a story,” Ridgeway told me. “And then we are curious what their story is.”

Ridgeway can sometimes sound a little weary at having to explain to outsiders a way of life that comes quite naturally to him. “We don’t want to hold ourselves up in some arrogant exclusivity,” Ridgeway said, but then described the kind of customer that Patagonia does not “necessarily want to invite under our umbrella”. Namely, people who want to climb Mount Everest for bragging rights – the sort of affluent adventurers, drawn to climbing in part by Patagonia, whose impact Chouinard now regrets so much. “Someone who has paid $100,000 for a guided climb where the sherpas put the route in and risked their lives fixing the lines and carried all your stuff up for you and positioned your oxygen balls so you could go up and come back and say you climbed Everest. That doesn’t work for us,” Ridgeway says. “And we don’t mind saying it publicly.”

In its pursuit of authenticity, Patagonia tries to avoid malls, and only takes over spaces that mean something to the community. (One of its four Manhattan stores is located on the Bowery, next to the former location of the punk club CBGB, which is now a John Varvatos boutique.) It prides itself on pushing up against the limits of how ethical a company can be while actually still selling things: quality goods, ethical labour and manufacturing, no debt, even a tax strategy, according to Chouinard’s book, “to pay our fair share and not a penny more”.

The company is hyper-aware of these contradictions, perhaps to the point of tying itself in knots. In 2011, on Black Friday, the biggest shopping day of the year in the US, Patagonia ran an ad featuring a photo of a plush blue fleece, and copy that read DON’T BUY THIS JACKET. The advert invited customers to make a commitment to reduce what they buy, repair their gear and recycle the stuff they no longer need. (Patagonia’s campus in Reno, Nevada houses the largest garment repair facility in North America.) But it had the opposite effect: Patagonia’s Black Friday sales increased by 30% over the previous year. The anti-sales message, as they might have expected, made consumers feel better about buying more.


Patagonia’s Don’t Buy This Jacket advert.

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest

Patagonia’s Don’t Buy This Jacket advert. Photograph: PR

The company’s attempts to expand into new markets have a similar blend of moral commitment and financial savvy. In 2013, it launched a venture fund to invest in environmentally and socially responsible for-profit startups. In 2012, the company launched a food line named Patagonia Provisions, which includes buffalo jerky, smoked wild Sockeye salmon and, beginning last October, a beer made with a grain called kernza, which can be grown year-round. The target market is “concerned moms that want to make sure they’re giving their kids organic, non-GMO food”, Rose Marcario told me. The new food division, she added, has won the company “a whole new set of customers”.


At the headquarters of The North Face in Alameda – just across the bay from San Francisco – there is a similar preoccupation with being green and avoiding waste. During a visit last summer, I had a lunch of sustainably raised salmon with Todd Spaletto, who became president of the company in 2011. The building where we dined was insulated with recycled blue jeans, and there were composting bins, solar panels and free charging stations for electric cars. One building housed a vast area dedicated to repairing clothes under the company’s lifetime warranty. As we ate, a team out on the lawn was testing out the set-up of a large, complicated-looking hexagonal tent.

A visitor to The North Face campus encounters the same sporty feel as at Patagonia HQ – but instead of Patagonia’s crunchy “soul surfer” vibe, here there is an edge of elite athleticism, whether in the form of employees doing bootcamp workouts and agility drills in the well-equipped gym, or a casual mention that Dean Karnazes was there just the other day, leading a group run along the water.

“One of my first weeks on the job, I was talking to somebody and they were like, ‘What are you doing this weekend?’” Spaletto recalled, smiling. “I was like, ‘I’m pretty excited, I’m running a half-marathon.’ And they were like” – and here he adopted a tone reserved for motivating small children – “‘That’s great, you gotta start somewhere!’”

Lately The North Face has been focusing more and more on a younger, casual customer whose main interest in hiking is the part where they get to drink beer around a campfire. “Why does the youthful millennial consumer go outdoors?” Spaletto asked. “They value one thing above all else. It’s this whole idea of these genuine experiential moments that you share with your friends.”

These youthful consumers may even decide they can afford to skip the hike and go straight to the beer. But as The North Face positions itself as a fashion brand as much as an outdoor wear company, a new dilemma arises. The casual customer is drawn both to style and to the authenticity of owning real technical gear – but if the gear itself announces its technical utility too loudly, it ceases to be fashionable.

“The outdoor industry has prided itself on showing the technology on the outside – seams sealed, zippers taped. That is very much core to this industry, everybody does it,” said Sumie Scott, the senior product director for “mountain culture” at The North Face. “But the more youthful consumer wants hidden technology. So that’s the challenge, how do you get them to know that technology exists?”

“What The North Face tries to push is this high, high performance extremity,” said Cathy Begien, who worked in visual merchandising at The North Face a decade ago, and has since gone on to work at Prada, Opening Ceremony, and Warby Parker. “They would say, ‘Cathy use Everest imagery or rock climbing.’ But I’m in a mall and people are pushing strollers around at 8am. I don’t think they care about whether an alpinist would want this, or an ultra-marathoner,” Begien recalled. “Holiday season was the only time I didn’t have to talk about mountain climbing or water rafting and could just show a bunch of jackets in a way the typical mall consumer can understand: this one is gonna keep you warm, this one is gonna keep you warmer, this one is gonna keep you warmest.”

The high cost of North Face gear creates high expectations: “You get a fairly affluent customer who expects meticulous service. You have to behave as though you’re working at a Vuitton or a Gucci,” said Caitlin Kelly, a journalist who took a job at a North Face outlet in suburban New York after losing her reporting job during the 2008 recession, and wrote a book, titled Malled, about the experience. “It was a long, narrow store. And when you walked in, half the store was fashion, half was ‘Let’s climb Everest’. It was massively confusing to the shopper.”

The North Face wants to do style and adventure. It has collaborated on slippers and puffer jackets with Supreme, the skateboarding brand with a cult following. (Drake wore a jacket from the collection in the video for his 2011 single The Motto.) The trend among makers of serious technical gear is for designs that don’t look like you are about to climb to Camp 4 on Everest – while at the same time, couture designers are increasingly showing items inspired by authentic outdoor gear. Patrik Ervell, Steven Alan and Louis Vuitton have all designed fleece jackets that appear to be a riff on Patagonia’s Retro-X; puffer jackets have started to appear on the covers of fashion magazines, thanks in part to Balenciaga’s $3,000 parkas.

The desire to broadcast a sense of adventure while still looking good may have something to do with the biggest trend in athletic gear in recent years: the rise of “athleisure” – clothes that suggest, rather than insist on, performance, designed to transition from workout to sofa. Leggings – whether made by The Gap or Alexander Wang – are the most popular form of sporting loungewear (or is it lounging sportswear), having replaced denim as the preferred casual wear for women. The UK sportswear market will surpass £8bn by 2020, fuelled by the rise of athleisure. In addition to gear for high-altitude camping and open-water diving, both The North Face and Patagonia sell leggings and sweatpants and T-shirts and all manner of gear best suited for hanging out.


When I first learned about Zeiler’s work, I expected the consistent schedule to work best. But that’s not what happened at all. The results weren’t even close: the pigeons pecked almost twice as often when the reward wasn’t guaranteed. Their brains, it turned out, were releasing far more dopamine when the reward was unexpected than when it was predictable. Zeiler had documented an important fact about positive feedback: that less is often more. His pigeons were drawn to the mystery of mixed feedback just as humans are attracted to the uncertainty of gambling.

Decades after Zeiler published his results, in 2012, a team of Facebook web developers prepared to unleash a similar feedback experiment on hundreds of millions of humans. The site already had 200 million users at the time – a number that would triple over the next three years. The experiment took the form of a deceptively simple new feature called a “like button”.

It’s hard to exaggerate how much the like button changed the psychology of Facebook use. What had begun as a passive way to track your friends’ lives was now deeply interactive, and with exactly the sort of unpredictable feedback that motivated Zeiler’s pigeons. Users were gambling every time they shared a photo, web link or status update. A post with zero “likes” wasn’t just privately painful, but also a kind of public condemnation: either you didn’t have enough online friends, or, worse still, your online friends weren’t impressed. Like pigeons, we’re more driven to seek feedback when it isn’t guaranteed. Facebook was the first major social networking force to introduce the like button, but others now have similar functions. You can like and repost tweets on Twitter, pictures on Instagram, posts on Google+, columns on LinkedIn, and videos on YouTube.

The act of liking became the subject of etiquette debates. What did it mean to refrain from liking a friend’s post? If you liked every third post, was that an implicit condemnation of the other posts? Liking became a form of basic social support – the online equivalent of laughing at a friend’s joke in public.

Web developer Rameet Chawla developed an app as a marketing exercise, but also a social experiment, to uncover the effect of the like button. When he launched it, Chawla posted this introduction on its homepage: “People are addicted. We experience withdrawals. We are so driven by this drug, getting just one hit elicits truly peculiar reactions. I’m talking about likes. They’ve inconspicuously emerged as the first digital drug to dominate our culture.”


Chawla’s app, called Lovematically, was designed to automatically like every picture that rolled through its users’ newsfeeds. It wasn’t even necessary to impress them any more; any old post was good enough to inspire a like. Apart from enjoying the warm glow that comes from spreading good cheer, Chawla – for the first three months, the app’s only user – also found that people reciprocated. They liked more of his photos, and he attracted an average of 30 new followers a day, a total of almost 3,000 followers during the trial period. On Valentine’s Day 2014, Chawla allowed 5,000 Instagram users to download a beta version of the app. After only two hours, Instagram shut down Lovematically for violating the social network’s terms of use.

“I knew way before launching it that it would get shut down by Instagram,” Chawla said. “Using drug terminology, you know, Instagram is the dealer and I’m the new guy in the market giving away the drug for free.”

Chawla was surprised, though, that it happened so quickly. He’d hoped for at least a week of use, but Instagram pounced immediately.


When I moved to the United States for postgraduate studies in 2004, online entertainment was limited. These were the days before Instagram, Twitter, and YouTube – and Facebook was limited to students at Harvard. One evening, I stumbled on a game called Sign of the Zodiac (Zodiac for short) that demanded very little mental energy.

Zodiac was a simple online slot machine, much like the actual slot machines in casinos: you decided how much to wager, lazily clicked a button over and over again, and watched as the machine spat out wins and losses. At first, I played to relieve the stress of long days filled with too much thinking, but the brief “ding” that followed each small win, and the longer melody that followed each major win, hooked me fast. Eventually screenshots of the game would intrude on my day. I’d picture five pink scorpions lining up for the game’s highest jackpot, followed by the jackpot melody that I can still conjure today. I had a minor behavioural addiction, and these were the sensory hangovers of the random, unpredictable feedback that followed each win.

My Zodiac addiction wasn’t unusual. For 13 years, Natasha Dow Schüll, a cultural anthropologist, studied gamblers and the machines that hook them. She collected descriptions of slot machines from gambling experts and current and former addicts, which included the following: “Slots are the crack cocaine of gambling … electronic morphine ... the most virulent strain of gambling in the history of man … Slots are the premier addiction delivery device.”

These are sensationalised descriptions, but they capture how easily people become hooked on slot-machine gambling. I can relate, because I became addicted to a slots game that wasn’t even doling out real money. The reinforcing sound of a win after the silence of several losses was enough for me.

In the US, banks are not allowed to handle online gambling winnings, which makes online gambling practically illegal. Very few companies are willing to fight the system, and the ones that do are quickly defeated. That sounds like a good thing, but free and legal games such as Sign of the Zodiac can also be dangerous. At casinos, the deck is stacked heavily against the player; on average the house has to win. But the house doesn’t have to win in a game without money.

As David Goldhill, the chief executive officer of the Game Show Network, which also produces many online games, told me: “Because we’re not restricted by having to pay real winnings, we can pay out $120 for every $100 played. No land-based casino could do that for more than a week without going out of business.” As a result, the game can continue forever because the player never runs out of chips. I played Sign of the Zodiac for four years and rarely had to start a new game. I won roughly 95% of the time. The game only ended when I had to eat or sleep or attend class in the morning. And sometimes it didn’t even end then.

Casinos win most of the time, but they have a clever way of convincing gamblers that the outcomes are reversed. Early slot machines were incredibly simple devices: the player pulled the machine’s arm to spin its three mechanical reels. If the centre of the reels displayed two or more of the same symbol when they stopped spinning, the player won a certain number of coins or credits. Today, slot machines allow gamblers

I decided to stay in character and have lunch there
The one great thing about being a writer is that you can write yourself into any story, make love to the most beautiful women, live any lifestyle you please, you can even be a time traveler if you so desire. That’s what I’ve decided to do, write myself into a continuing story where I delve deeply into my past and make it a lot more interesting than it really was. The women who ignored me, rejected me and embarrassed me better watch out – I’m cumming for you!

The Story Begins

The short period I spent working for Major Bull made me realize that I had a pretty cushy number working for John Gannon. However, I frequently thought of Inge and how very pretty she was, and occasionally I even thought of Erika.

Although I did reject her advances at the time, as I’ve grown older I’ve often wondered what she had in mind for me had I responded in a positive manner. She only attempted a kiss me, but her plunging neckline that revealed two melon-sized tits indicated to me that she was not going to necessarily be satisfied with a little tongue wrestling. Consequently, I decided to go back to that moment in the Major’s dressing room when I was a skinny, baby-faced teenager looking into the fiery eyes of a mature horny woman.

I was actually brushing a tuxedo when she came in, put her arms around my neck and tried to force me onto a single bed that was in the corner of the room. In real time I struggled to free myself, told her I had to finish my task and she naturally took umbrage and made a quick exit with a scowl on her face.

In my time travel mode I transitioned into my former self the exact moment she put her arms around me, I tossed the tux to one side and allowed her to throw me onto the bed where she wasted no time in clamping her full lips to mine. My god, her tongue felt as if it was nine inches long and it was halfway down my throat before I could gasp for air.

As she was being so aggressive I thought I get straight in there and I put my hand down the front of her off shoulder blouse and grabbed onto one of her tits. She stopped the kissing and looked down at me with a quizzical expression on her face.

“You want come to my room?” she asked, in her thick German accent.

I said I’d love to and with that, she took my hand, helped up from the bed and led me out along the corridor to her hide-a-way. We furtively entered her room, she locked the door after us, put her arms around me and kissed me passionately.

Her room was one of two that had an en suite bathroom and after taking off each other’s clothes that was our destination. Naked, Erika was very appealing, particularly when she loosened her long black hair and shook it around, it cascaded well past her waist. Her tits, of course, were her prized possession, they were large and firm and the nipples, which were dark brown and prominent, called out to be sucked.

“Let’s go in bathroom and wash clean,” she said.

I followed her lovely ass as she sashayed through the door with my enormous boner poking it as we walked. Once inside she switched on the shower and then she turned to me quite aggressively, took my shoulders and forced me under, then she soaped up a large sponge and began to wash my chest with an almost evil grin on her face. A couple of times I reached out to touch those tits of hers but she moved back and shook her head as if to say,

“It’s not your turn yet.”

Erika was very thorough with the upper part of my body, even prompting me to raise up my arms while she soaped up my armpits. However, as she worked her way down my torso and slipped a sponge between my legs, I began to shake a little. I was dying for her to grab hold of my cock but although she gave my balls a good going over she steered clear of it.

Turning me around like I was a mannequin in a store window she did my back and went up and down the crack of my ass, then she surprised me. Tossing the sponge aside she sat on the tiled floor behind me, slipping her legs between mine.

The water was still coming down on us as she reached up and grabbed onto my balls with one hand and my dick with the other.

I didn’t know it was possible for a foreskin to come back quite that far, and I certainly didn’t know it could feel that good. Her face was resting on the cheek of my ass as she applied her magic hand and gave me the best hand job ever. By the time my cum was moving up my pipe my legs had turned to jelly and I yelled out loud as my goo shot up in the air.

It was such an intense experience I had to sit down on the floor with water still cascading down my body. Erika who had got back onto her feet came and stood before me with her legs spread apart and her hairy muff against my face, I had to slip down at a slight angle to get my mouth in position and supported myself on one arm while I reached up with the other to part the lips of her flower.

When my tongue made contact with her pink folds she grabbed onto my hair and threw her head back with a groan. I began to lick her slowly, starting near her anus and continue all the way up to her clit in massive swipes. Her fingers entwined in my hair and I continued to eat her out with a passion. It tasted so good I attacked it with enthusiasm, like a condemned man enjoying his last meal.

When she was about to come she began to move her hips like a belly dancer, rubbing her cunt against my mouth and breathing like she was about to have a heart attack. When she came she wrestled my head as though she was going to tear it off my shoulders and then she quickly plumped her ass down across from me and smiled.

“That – good,” she said, “Now fuck me.”

We rolled around on the wet floor, and I sucked on those gorgeous tits before opening up her legs and sliding into her damp bush. Oh my god, she had great muscle control and it felt as though she was sucking me off.

I grabbed onto her wrists and forced them behind her head as if she was my prisoner and then I hammered her cunt with all the strength I had. Erika was in a state of ecstasy and contorted her face as if she was in pain as I thrust it deep inside of her.

It wasn’t long before my balls began to ache and I could feel my sperm getting ready to shoot up and into her love tunnel. When it did I shouted out and she screamed and wrapped her legs around me trying to squeeze out the last drop.

We lay around on the floor for a few minutes with me still sucking on her nipples and then we got up and dried each other off. It seemed as if she was now in a hurry to get back to her duties before Mrs. Bull started looking for her.

I decided to stay in character and have lunch there – she was not only a good fuck but a good cook. Inge, looking as beautiful as ever, sat across from me, and seemed a bit suspicious as Erika and I exchanged glances. Little did she know that I’d been pounding her hairy mound only a few days before. The End of Part 8

The one great thing about being a writer is that you can write yourself into any story, make love to the most beautiful women, live any lifestyle you please, you can even be a time traveler if you so desire. That’s what I’ve decided to do, write myself into a continuing story where I delve deeply into my past and make it a lot more interesting than it really was. The women who ignored me, rejected me and embarrassed me better watch out – I’m cumming for you!

The Story Begins

The short period I spent working for Major Bull made me realize that I had a pretty cushy number working for John Gannon. However, I frequently thought of Inge and how very pretty she was, and occasionally I even thought of Erika.

Although I did reject her advances at the time, as I’ve grown older I’ve often wondered what she had in mind for me had I responded in a positive manner. She only attempted a kiss me, but her plunging neckline that revealed two melon-sized tits indicated to me that she was not going to necessarily be satisfied with a little tongue wrestling. Consequently, I decided to go back to that moment in the Major’s dressing room when I was a skinny, baby-faced teenager looking into the fiery eyes of a mature horny woman.

I was actually brushing a tuxedo when she came in, put her arms around my neck and tried to force me onto a single bed that was in the corner of the room. In real time I struggled to free myself, told her I had to finish my task and she naturally took umbrage and made a quick exit with a scowl on her face.

In my time travel mode I transitioned into my former self the exact moment she put her arms around me, I tossed the tux to one side and allowed her to throw me onto the bed where she wasted no time in clamping her full lips to mine. My god, her tongue felt as if it was nine inches long and it was halfway down my throat before I could gasp for air.

As she was being so aggressive I thought I get straight in there and I put my hand down the front of her off shoulder blouse and grabbed onto one of her tits. She stopped the kissing and looked down at me with a quizzical expression on her face.

“You want come to my room?” she asked, in her thick German accent.

I said I’d love to and with that, she took my hand, helped up from the bed and led me out along the corridor to her hide-a-way. We furtively entered her room, she locked the door after us, put her arms around me and kissed me passionately.

Her room was one of two that had an en suite bathroom and after taking off each other’s clothes that was our destination. Naked, Erika was very appealing, particularly when she loosened her long black hair and shook it around, it cascaded well past her waist. Her tits, of course, were her prized possession, they were large and firm and the nipples, which were dark brown and prominent, called out to be sucked.

“Let’s go in bathroom and wash clean,” she said.

I followed her lovely ass as she sashayed through the door with my enormous boner poking it as we walked. Once inside she switched on the shower and then she turned to me quite aggressively, took my shoulders and forced me under, then she soaped up a large sponge and began to wash my chest with an almost evil grin on her face. A couple of times I reached out to touch those tits of hers but she moved back and shook her head as if to say,

“It’s not your turn yet.”

Erika was very thorough with the upper part of my body, even prompting me to raise up my arms while she soaped up my armpits. However, as she worked her way down my torso and slipped a sponge between my legs, I began to shake a little. I was dying for her to grab hold of my cock but although she gave my balls a good going over she steered clear of it.

Turning me around like I was a mannequin in a store window she did my back and went up and down the crack of my ass, then she surprised me. Tossing the sponge aside she sat on the tiled floor behind me, slipping her legs between mine.

The water was still coming down on us as she reached up and grabbed onto my balls with one hand and my dick with the other.

I didn’t know it was possible for a foreskin to come back quite that far, and I certainly didn’t know it could feel that good. Her face was resting on the cheek of my ass as she applied her magic hand and gave me the best hand job ever. By the time my cum was moving up my pipe my legs had turned to jelly and I yelled out loud as my goo shot up in the air.

It was such an intense experience I had to sit down on the floor with water still cascading down my body. Erika who had got back onto her feet came and stood before me with her legs spread apart and her hairy muff against my face, I had to slip down at a slight angle to get my mouth in position and supported myself on one arm while I reached up with the other to part the lips of her flower.

When my tongue made contact with her pink folds she grabbed onto my hair and threw her head back with a groan. I began to lick her slowly, starting near her anus and continue all the way up to her clit in massive swipes. Her fingers entwined in my hair and I continued to eat her out with a passion. It tasted so good I attacked it with enthusiasm, like a condemned man enjoying his last meal.

When she was about to come she began to move her hips like a belly dancer, rubbing her cunt against my mouth and breathing like she was about to have a heart attack. When she came she wrestled my head as though she was going to tear it off my shoulders and then she quickly plumped her ass down across from me and smiled.

“That – good,” she said, “Now fuck me.”

We rolled around on the wet floor, and I sucked on those gorgeous tits before opening up her legs and sliding into her damp bush. Oh my god, she had great muscle control and it felt as though she was sucking me off.

I grabbed onto her wrists and forced them behind her head as if she was my prisoner and then I hammered her cunt with all the strength I had. Erika was in a state of ecstasy and contorted her face as if she was in pain as I thrust it deep inside of her.

It wasn’t long before my balls began to ache and I could feel my sperm getting ready to shoot up and into her love tunnel. When it did I shouted out and she screamed and wrapped her legs around me trying to squeeze out the last drop.

We lay around on the floor for a few minutes with me still sucking on her nipples and then we got up and dried each other off. It seemed as if she was now in a hurry to get back to her duties before Mrs. Bull started looking for her.

I decided to stay in character and have lunch there – she was not only a good fuck but a good cook. Inge, looking as beautiful as ever, sat across from me, and seemed a bit suspicious as Erika and I exchanged glances. Little did she know that I’d been pounding her hairy mound only a few days before. The End of Part 8

The one great thing about being a writer is that you can write yourself into any story, make love to the most beautiful women, live any lifestyle you please, you can even be a time traveler if you so desire. That’s what I’ve decided to do, write myself into a continuing story where I delve deeply into my past and make it a lot more interesting than it really was. The women who ignored me, rejected me and embarrassed me better watch out – I’m cumming for you!

The Story Begins

The short period I spent working for Major Bull made me realize that I had a pretty cushy number working for John Gannon. However, I frequently thought of Inge and how very pretty she was, and occasionally I even thought of Erika.

Although I did reject her advances at the time, as I’ve grown older I’ve often wondered what she had in mind for me had I responded in a positive manner. She only attempted a kiss me, but her plunging neckline that revealed two melon-sized tits indicated to me that she was not going to necessarily be satisfied with a little tongue wrestling. Consequently, I decided to go back to that moment in the Major’s dressing room when I was a skinny, baby-faced teenager looking into the fiery eyes of a mature horny woman.

I was actually brushing a tuxedo when she came in, put her arms around my neck and tried to force me onto a single bed that was in the corner of the room. In real time I struggled to free myself, told her I had to finish my task and she naturally took umbrage and made a quick exit with a scowl on her face.

In my time travel mode I transitioned into my former self the exact moment she put her arms around me, I tossed the tux to one side and allowed her to throw me onto the bed where she wasted no time in clamping her full lips to mine. My god, her tongue felt as if it was nine inches long and it was halfway down my throat before I could gasp for air.

As she was being so aggressive I thought I get straight in there and I put my hand down the front of her off shoulder blouse and grabbed onto one of her tits. She stopped the kissing and looked down at me with a quizzical expression on her face.

“You want come to my room?” she asked, in her thick German accent.

I said I’d love to and with that, she took my hand, helped up from the bed and led me out along the corridor to her hide-a-way. We furtively entered her room, she locked the door after us, put her arms around me and kissed me passionately.

Her room was one of two that had an en suite bathroom and after taking off each other’s clothes that was our destination. Naked, Erika was very appealing, particularly when she loosened her long black hair and shook it around, it cascaded well past her waist. Her tits, of course, were her prized possession, they were large and firm and the nipples, which were dark brown and prominent, called out to be sucked.

“Let’s go in bathroom and wash clean,” she said.

I followed her lovely ass as she sashayed through the door with my enormous boner poking it as we walked. Once inside she switched on the shower and then she turned to me quite aggressively, took my shoulders and forced me under, then she soaped up a large sponge and began to wash my chest with an almost evil grin on her face. A couple of times I reached out to touch those tits of hers but she moved back and shook her head as if to say,

“It’s not your turn yet.”

Erika was very thorough with the upper part of my body, even prompting me to raise up my arms while she soaped up my armpits. However, as she worked her way down my torso and slipped a sponge between my legs, I began to shake a little. I was dying for her to grab hold of my cock but although she gave my balls a good going over she steered clear of it.

Turning me around like I was a mannequin in a store window she did my back and went up and down the crack of my ass, then she surprised me. Tossing the sponge aside she sat on the tiled floor behind me, slipping her legs between mine.

The water was still coming down on us as she reached up and grabbed onto my balls with one hand and my dick with the other.

I didn’t know it was possible for a foreskin to come back quite that far, and I certainly didn’t know it could feel that good. Her face was resting on the cheek of my ass as she applied her magic hand and gave me the best hand job ever. By the time my cum was moving up my pipe my legs had turned to jelly and I yelled out loud as my goo shot up in the air.

It was such an intense experience I had to sit down on the floor with water still cascading down my body. Erika who had got back onto her feet came and stood before me with her legs spread apart and her hairy muff against my face, I had to slip down at a slight angle to get my mouth in position and supported myself on one arm while I reached up with the other to part the lips of her flower.

When my tongue made contact with her pink folds she grabbed onto my hair and threw her head back with a groan. I began to lick her slowly, starting near her anus and continue all the way up to her clit in massive swipes. Her fingers entwined in my hair and I continued to eat her out with a passion. It tasted so good I attacked it with enthusiasm, like a condemned man enjoying his last meal.

When she was about to come she began to move her hips like a belly dancer, rubbing her cunt against my mouth and breathing like she was about to have a heart attack. When she came she wrestled my head as though she was going to tear it off my shoulders and then she quickly plumped her ass down across from me and smiled.

“That – good,” she said, “Now fuck me.”

We rolled around on the wet floor, and I sucked on those gorgeous tits before opening up her legs and sliding into her damp bush. Oh my god, she had great muscle control and it felt as though she was sucking me off.

I grabbed onto her wrists and forced them behind her head as if she was my prisoner and then I hammered her cunt with all the strength I had. Erika was in a state of ecstasy and contorted her face as if she was in pain as I thrust it deep inside of her.

It wasn’t long before my balls began to ache and I could feel my sperm getting ready to shoot up and into her love tunnel. When it did I shouted out and she screamed and wrapped her legs around me trying to squeeze out the last drop.

We lay around on the floor for a few minutes with me still sucking on her nipples and then we got up and dried each other off. It seemed as if she was now in a hurry to get back to her duties before Mrs. Bull started looking for her.

I decided to stay in character and have lunch there – she was not only a good fuck but a good cook. Inge, looking as beautiful as ever, sat across from me, and seemed a bit suspicious as Erika and I exchanged glances. Little did she know that I’d been pounding her hairy mound only a few days before.

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
##############################################
1 2 3 4 5 Apr 13, 2017
“Oh we’re not teachers,
Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart began to race, “I think there are all kinds of possibilities there,” he mused, having a job to sit straight with his dick pressing against his pants.

“Of course we’ve never tried it,” Marie said, “We’ve not really found the right man to try it with, most of the men here have a job getting in and out of their chairs.”

“I’m always available to further the cause of higher education,” he smiled, now having to stand to relieve the pressure on his boner.
“Maybe we should all take our clothes off and try a few moves – maybe we can prove whether it offers improved health benefits,” she grinned.

The women were only wearing tank tops and sweatpants and they slipped out of them while Eddie was still trying to get his shoes off. Impatient to get things moving the two women soon started to assist him to remove his clothes and both stood back when he, completely naked, showed off his rather long stiff cock.

“I like your equipment, said Kelly, “And I don’t mean the stuff in your catalog.”

Marie laughed and asked if he guaranteed satisfaction.

Eddie was beginning to think he was the luckiest guy alive as the two women started to move their hands all over his body as if he was a god or something. It was Marie who first ran her fingers through his pubic hair and stopped with a smile when she grasped his dick. However, before things went any further Kelly suggested that they all took a shower.

“If we’re all going to start to lick each other’s bodies,” she said, “We should make sure they’re clean.”

He was in total agreement and Kelly led the way to the showers and they all shared a cabinet. They ended up like a group of big kids, throwing lather around and occasionally groping each other.

Eddie couldn’t wait to get hold of Marie’s tits and as an excuse, he washed them thoroughly for her. She leaned back on the tiled wall as he circled them with his strong hands rubbing her nipples with his palms. Then Kelly not wanting to be cut out of the fun came up behind and put her arms around him pressing her tits against his back.

Marie seemed to be getting very excited as the palming of her tits continued and she suddenly turned, put her hands against the wall and stuck out her bum inviting him to stick his throbbing red shaft up her ass. As he did so Kelly slipped her hands between his legs and gently lathered his balls.

While he pounded Marie’s ass he slipped his arms around her and grabbed hold of her tits, massaging them in time with his powerful thrusts. It wasn’t long before she screamed out,

“I’m cumming – I’m cumming,” and for some reason, Kelly got all excited and started to finger his balls with increased enthusiasm. When he shot his load he let out a few Bull Moose mating calls, ramming it into her cunt repeatedly with considerable force. As soon as he withdrew it Kelly was down on her knees sucking it for all it was worth.

Marie, still trembling from her orgasm, came up from behind and started to gently pull back on his ball bag. His foreskin was back as far as it would go and Kelly was plunging it in and out of her mouth as if she was determined for him to cum again. It didn’t take long and then both of the women knelt down and licked the dripping end together.

Eddie didn’t want to admit it but he was feeling exhausted and his legs had gone jelly-like. However, the women were only just starting. Soon they were towing him out to the gym and they actually physically lifted him on to the padded top of a vaulting table. As he lay there not knowing what to expect next Kelly used the springboard to leap on the top of him. Fortunately, she managed to land straddling his legs and not on the family jewels.

She lowered herself onto his resurrected projectile just as if she was doing an Olympic event and then started to swing her legs to and fro. It was a strange feeling as he was way deep inside of her and as she made the movements, the muscles inside her moist groove were contracting and creating sort of a sucking motion on his dick. With his head almost hanging over the table Marie came around and started to insert her tongue into his mouth and then she pulled herself gracefully above his face with her legs spread apart. She lowered herself onto his moist lips so that he could munch on her quivering quim and he ate her out with relish.

All three were groaning and moaning and Eddie balls were feeling tight and intense. He thought he was going to cum any minute but Kelly and Marie jumped off of the table together and both grabbed his arms and lead him over to the parallel bars. It was almost like a rehearsed routine.

The poor guy was a little frustrated because his balls were aching like hell as he was anxious to shoot yet another big blob of cum. However, the girls wanted to make the whole thing last and to try as much as the equipment as possible.

Marie launched herself onto the parallel bars in such a way that her pink tacho was in a direct line with his dick. Kelly took over the role of coach and directed him from the side. Responding to her commands he held onto the bars and swung into Marie’s waiting cunt. It felt great and he took several swings, once again expecting to shoot his load but the girls had one more piece of equipment to try.

They literally carried Eddie over the gym and dumped onto the trampoline. Kelly climbed on top of him and lowered herself once more onto his dick. He sank it in her hot wet crack all the way up to his scrotum and then took a very deep breath awaiting her next move.

Marie climbed onto the end of the apparatus and began to jump. Her beautiful big tits bounced every which way as she got higher and higher. The vibration was jolting Kelly up and down on his cock which resulted in it going in and out at variable speeds which made it very frustrating.

Marie kept on pounding the canvas and as she did her lithe figure appeared over Kelly’s head each time she leaped into the air. The combination of watching her tits jiggling and plunging in and out of a well-lubricated vagina soon brought him to the boil. When he called out he was cumming Marie increased her pace and Kelly leaned back tightening her cunt around his battered schlong. When he blew his load they still continued to mangle his manhood and poor Eddie was flinging arms around almost begging for mercy.

When it was all over, and they had put their clothes back on, Eddie, still gasping for breath, and looking very pale, asked them what they thought of the gym equipment he’d showed them in the catalog.

“Oh we’re not teachers,” said Kelly, “We’re just a couple of PTA members, we come here one evening a week to get some exercise. Miss Rogers, who was due to meet you here, won’t be able to make until seven. Maybe we should hang around and make it a foursome. THE END
Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart began to race, “I think there are all kinds of possibilities there,” he mused, having a job to sit straight with his dick pressing against his pants.

“Of course we’ve never tried it,” Marie said, “We’ve not really found the right man to try it with, most of the men here have a job getting in and out of their chairs.”

“I’m always available to further the cause of higher education,” he smiled, now having to stand to relieve the pressure on his boner.
“Maybe we should all take our clothes off and try a few moves – maybe we can prove whether it offers improved health benefits,” she grinned.

The women were only wearing tank tops and sweatpants and they slipped out of them while Eddie was still trying to get his shoes off. Impatient to get things moving the two women soon started to assist him to remove his clothes and both stood back when he, completely naked, showed off his rather long stiff cock.

“I like your equipment, said Kelly, “And I don’t mean the stuff in your catalog.”

Marie laughed and asked if he guaranteed satisfaction.

Eddie was beginning to think he was the luckiest guy alive as the two women started to move their hands all over his body as if he was a god or something. It was Marie who first ran her fingers through his pubic hair and stopped with a smile when she grasped his dick. However, before things went any further Kelly suggested that they all took a shower.

“If we’re all going to start to lick each other’s bodies,” she said, “We should make sure they’re clean.”

He was in total agreement and Kelly led the way to the showers and they all shared a cabinet. They ended up like a group of big kids, throwing lather around and occasionally groping each other.

Eddie couldn’t wait to get hold of Marie’s tits and as an excuse, he washed them thoroughly for her. She leaned back on the tiled wall as he circled them with his strong hands rubbing her nipples with his palms. Then Kelly not wanting to be cut out of the fun came up behind and put her arms around him pressing her tits against his back.

Marie seemed to be getting very excited as the palming of her tits continued and she suddenly turned, put her hands against the wall and stuck out her bum inviting him to stick his throbbing red shaft up her ass. As he did so Kelly slipped her hands between his legs and gently lathered his balls.

While he pounded Marie’s ass he slipped his arms around her and grabbed hold of her tits, massaging them in time with his powerful thrusts. It wasn’t long before she screamed out,

“I’m cumming – I’m cumming,” and for some reason, Kelly got all excited and started to finger his balls with increased enthusiasm. When he shot his load he let out a few Bull Moose mating calls, ramming it into her cunt repeatedly with considerable force. As soon as he withdrew it Kelly was down on her knees sucking it for all it was worth.

Marie, still trembling from her orgasm, came up from behind and started to gently pull back on his ball bag. His foreskin was back as far as it would go and Kelly was plunging it in and out of her mouth as if she was determined for him to cum again. It didn’t take long and then both of the women knelt down and licked the dripping end together.

Eddie didn’t want to admit it but he was feeling exhausted and his legs had gone jelly-like. However, the women were only just starting. Soon they were towing him out to the gym and they actually physically lifted him on to the padded top of a vaulting table. As he lay there not knowing what to expect next Kelly used the springboard to leap on the top of him. Fortunately, she managed to land straddling his legs and not on the family jewels.

She lowered herself onto his resurrected projectile just as if she was doing an Olympic event and then started to swing her legs to and fro. It was a strange feeling as he was way deep inside of her and as she made the movements, the muscles inside her moist groove were contracting and creating sort of a sucking motion on his dick. With his head almost hanging over the table Marie came around and started to insert her tongue into his mouth and then she pulled herself gracefully above his face with her legs spread apart. She lowered herself onto his moist lips so that he could munch on her quivering quim and he ate her out with relish.

All three were groaning and moaning and Eddie balls were feeling tight and intense. He thought he was going to cum any minute but Kelly and Marie jumped off of the table together and both grabbed his arms and lead him over to the parallel bars. It was almost like a rehearsed routine.

The poor guy was a little frustrated because his balls were aching like hell as he was anxious to shoot yet another big blob of cum. However, the girls wanted to make the whole thing last and to try as much as the equipment as possible.

Marie launched herself onto the parallel bars in such a way that her pink tacho was in a direct line with his dick. Kelly took over the role of coach and directed him from the side. Responding to her commands he held onto the bars and swung into Marie’s waiting cunt. It felt great and he took several swings, once again expecting to shoot his load but the girls had one more piece of equipment to try.

They literally carried Eddie over the gym and dumped onto the trampoline. Kelly climbed on top of him and lowered herself once more onto his dick. He sank it in her hot wet crack all the way up to his scrotum and then took a very deep breath awaiting her next move.

Marie climbed onto the end of the apparatus and began to jump. Her beautiful big tits bounced every which way as she got higher and higher. The vibration was jolting Kelly up and down on his cock which resulted in it going in and out at variable speeds which made it very frustrating.

Marie kept on pounding the canvas and as she did her lithe figure appeared over Kelly’s head each time she leaped into the air. The combination of watching her tits jiggling and plunging in and out of a well-lubricated vagina soon brought him to the boil. When he called out he was cumming Marie increased her pace and Kelly leaned back tightening her cunt around his battered schlong. When he blew his load they still continued to mangle his manhood and poor Eddie was flinging arms around almost begging for mercy.

When it was all over, and they had put their clothes back on, Eddie, still gasping for breath, and looking very pale, asked them what they thought of the gym equipment he’d showed them in the catalog.

“Oh we’re not teachers,” said Kelly, “We’re just a couple of PTA members, we come here one evening a week to get some exercise. Miss Rogers, who was due to meet you here, won’t be able to make until seven. Maybe we should hang around and make it a foursome. THE END
Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart began to race, “I think there are all kinds of possibilities there,” he mused, having a job to sit straight with his dick pressing against his pants.

“Of course we’ve never tried it,” Marie said, “We’ve not really found the right man to try it with, most of the men here have a job getting in and out of their chairs.”

“I’m always available to further the cause of higher education,” he smiled, now having to stand to relieve the pressure on his boner.
“Maybe we should all take our clothes off and try a few moves – maybe we can prove whether it offers improved health benefits,” she grinned.

The women were only wearing tank tops and sweatpants and they slipped out of them while Eddie was still trying to get his shoes off. Impatient to get things moving the two women soon started to assist him to remove his clothes and both stood back when he, completely naked, showed off his rather long stiff cock.

“I like your equipment, said Kelly, “And I don’t mean the stuff in your catalog.”

Marie laughed and asked if he guaranteed satisfaction.

Eddie was beginning to think he was the luckiest guy alive as the two women started to move their hands all over his body as if he was a god or something. It was Marie who first ran her fingers through his pubic hair and stopped with a smile when she grasped his dick. However, before things went any further Kelly suggested that they all took a shower.

“If we’re all going to start to lick each other’s bodies,” she said, “We should make sure they’re clean.”

He was in total agreement and Kelly led the way to the showers and they all shared a cabinet. They ended up like a group of big kids, throwing lather around and occasionally groping each other.

Eddie couldn’t wait to get hold of Marie’s tits and as an excuse, he washed them thoroughly for her. She leaned back on the tiled wall as he circled them with his strong hands rubbing her nipples with his palms. Then Kelly not wanting to be cut out of the fun came up behind and put her arms around him pressing her tits against his back.

Marie seemed to be getting very excited as the palming of her tits continued and she suddenly turned, put her hands against the wall and stuck out her bum inviting him to stick his throbbing red shaft up her ass. As he did so Kelly slipped her hands between his legs and gently lathered his balls.

While he pounded Marie’s ass he slipped his arms around her and grabbed hold of her tits, massaging them in time with his powerful thrusts. It wasn’t long before she screamed out,

“I’m cumming – I’m cumming,” and for some reason, Kelly got all excited and started to finger his balls with increased enthusiasm. When he shot his load he let out a few Bull Moose mating calls, ramming it into her cunt repeatedly with considerable force. As soon as he withdrew it Kelly was down on her knees sucking it for all it was worth.

Marie, still trembling from her orgasm, came up from behind and started to gently pull back on his ball bag. His foreskin was back as far as it would go and Kelly was plunging it in and out of her mouth as if she was determined for him to cum again. It didn’t take long and then both of the women knelt down and licked the dripping end together.

Eddie didn’t want to admit it but he was feeling exhausted and his legs had gone jelly-like. However, the women were only just starting. Soon they were towing him out to the gym and they actually physically lifted him on to the padded top of a vaulting table. As he lay there not knowing what to expect next Kelly used the springboard to leap on the top of him. Fortunately, she managed to land straddling his legs and not on the family jewels.

She lowered herself onto his resurrected projectile just as if she was doing an Olympic event and then started to swing her legs to and fro. It was a strange feeling as he was way deep inside of her and as she made the movements, the muscles inside her moist groove were contracting and creating sort of a sucking motion on his dick. With his head almost hanging over the table Marie came around and started to insert her tongue into his mouth and then she pulled herself gracefully above his face with her legs spread apart. She lowered herself onto his moist lips so that he could munch on her quivering quim and he ate her out with relish.

All three were groaning and moaning and Eddie balls were feeling tight and intense. He thought he was going to cum any minute but Kelly and Marie jumped off of the table together and both grabbed his arms and lead him over to the parallel bars. It was almost like a rehearsed routine.

The poor guy was a little frustrated because his balls were aching like hell as he was anxious to shoot yet another big blob of cum. However, the girls wanted to make the whole thing last and to try as much as the equipment as possible.

Marie launched herself onto the parallel bars in such a way that her pink tacho was in a direct line with his dick. Kelly took over the role of coach and directed him from the side. Responding to her commands he held onto the bars and swung into Marie’s waiting cunt. It felt great and he took several swings, once again expecting to shoot his load but the girls had one more piece of equipment to try.

They literally carried Eddie over the gym and dumped onto the trampoline. Kelly climbed on top of him and lowered herself once more onto his dick. He sank it in her hot wet crack all the way up to his scrotum and then took a very deep breath awaiting her next move.

Marie climbed onto the end of the apparatus and began to jump. Her beautiful big tits bounced every which way as she got higher and higher. The vibration was jolting Kelly up and down on his cock which resulted in it going in and out at variable speeds which made it very frustrating.

Marie kept on pounding the canvas and as she did her lithe figure appeared over Kelly’s head each time she leaped into the air. The combination of watching her tits jiggling and plunging in and out of a well-lubricated vagina soon brought him to the boil. When he called out he was cumming Marie increased her pace and Kelly leaned back tightening her cunt around his battered schlong. When he blew his load they still continued to mangle his manhood and poor Eddie was flinging arms around almost begging for mercy.

When it was all over, and they had put their clothes back on, Eddie, still gasping for breath, and looking very pale, asked them what they thought of the gym equipment he’d showed them in the catalog.

“Oh we’re not teachers,” said Kelly, “We’re just a couple of PTA members, we come here one evening a week to get some exercise. Miss Rogers, who was due to meet you here, won’t be able to make until seven. Maybe we should hang around and make it a foursome. THE END
Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart began to race, “I think there are all kinds of possibilities there,” he mused, having a job to sit straight with his dick pressing against his pants.

“Of course we’ve never tried it,” Marie said, “We’ve not really found the right man to try it with, most of the men here have a job getting in and out of their chairs.”

“I’m always available to further the cause of higher education,” he smiled, now having to stand to relieve the pressure on his boner.
“Maybe we should all take our clothes off and try a few moves – maybe we can prove whether it offers improved health benefits,” she grinned.

The women were only wearing tank tops and sweatpants and they slipped out of them while Eddie was still trying to get his shoes off. Impatient to get things moving the two women soon started to assist him to remove his clothes and both stood back when he, completely naked, showed off his rather long stiff cock.

“I like your equipment, said Kelly, “And I don’t mean the stuff in your catalog.”

Marie laughed and asked if he guaranteed satisfaction.

Eddie was beginning to think he was the luckiest guy alive as the two women started to move their hands all over his body as if he was a god or something. It was Marie who first ran her fingers through his pubic hair and stopped with a smile when she grasped his dick. However, before things went any further Kelly suggested that they all took a shower.

“If we’re all going to start to lick each other’s bodies,” she said, “We should make sure they’re clean.”

He was in total agreement and Kelly led the way to the showers and they all shared a cabinet. They ended up like a group of big kids, throwing lather around and occasionally groping each other.

Eddie couldn’t wait to get hold of Marie’s tits and as an excuse, he washed them thoroughly for her. She leaned back on the tiled wall as he circled them with his strong hands rubbing her nipples with his palms. Then Kelly not wanting to be cut out of the fun came up behind and put her arms around him pressing her tits against his back.

Marie seemed to be getting very excited as the palming of her tits continued and she suddenly turned, put her hands against the wall and stuck out her bum inviting him to stick his throbbing red shaft up her ass. As he did so Kelly slipped her hands between his legs and gently lathered his balls.

While he pounded Marie’s ass he slipped his arms around her and grabbed hold of her tits, massaging them in time with his powerful thrusts. It wasn’t long before she screamed out,

“I’m cumming – I’m cumming,” and for some reason, Kelly got all excited and started to finger his balls with increased enthusiasm. When he shot his load he let out a few Bull Moose mating calls, ramming it into her cunt repeatedly with considerable force. As soon as he withdrew it Kelly was down on her knees sucking it for all it was worth.

Marie, still trembling from her orgasm, came up from behind and started to gently pull back on his ball bag. His foreskin was back as far as it would go and Kelly was plunging it in and out of her mouth as if she was determined for him to cum again. It didn’t take long and then both of the women knelt down and licked the dripping end together.

Eddie didn’t want to admit it but he was feeling exhausted and his legs had gone jelly-like. However, the women were only just starting. Soon they were towing him out to the gym and they actually physically lifted him on to the padded top of a vaulting table. As he lay there not knowing what to expect next Kelly used the springboard to leap on the top of him. Fortunately, she managed to land straddling his legs and not on the family jewels.

She lowered herself onto his resurrected projectile just as if she was doing an Olympic event and then started to swing her legs to and fro. It was a strange feeling as he was way deep inside of her and as she made the movements, the muscles inside her moist groove were contracting and creating sort of a sucking motion on his dick. With his head almost hanging over the table Marie came around and started to insert her tongue into his mouth and then she pulled herself gracefully above his face with her legs spread apart. She lowered herself onto his moist lips so that he could munch on her quivering quim and he ate her out with relish.

All three were groaning and moaning and Eddie balls were feeling tight and intense. He thought he was going to cum any minute but Kelly and Marie jumped off of the table together and both grabbed his arms and lead him over to the parallel bars. It was almost like a rehearsed routine.

The poor guy was a little frustrated because his balls were aching like hell as he was anxious to shoot yet another big blob of cum. However, the girls wanted to make the whole thing last and to try as much as the equipment as possible.

Marie launched herself onto the parallel bars in such a way that her pink tacho was in a direct line with his dick. Kelly took over the role of coach and directed him from the side. Responding to her commands he held onto the bars and swung into Marie’s waiting cunt. It felt great and he took several swings, once again expecting to shoot his load but the girls had one more piece of equipment to try.

They literally carried Eddie over the gym and dumped onto the trampoline. Kelly climbed on top of him and lowered herself once more onto his dick. He sank it in her hot wet crack all the way up to his scrotum and then took a very deep breath awaiting her next move.

Marie climbed onto the end of the apparatus and began to jump. Her beautiful big tits bounced every which way as she got higher and higher. The vibration was jolting Kelly up and down on his cock which resulted in it going in and out at variable speeds which made it very frustrating.

Marie kept on pounding the canvas and as she did her lithe figure appeared over Kelly’s head each time she leaped into the air. The combination of watching her tits jiggling and plunging in and out of a well-lubricated vagina soon brought him to the boil. When he called out he was cumming Marie increased her pace and Kelly leaned back tightening her cunt around his battered schlong. When he blew his load they still continued to mangle his manhood and poor Eddie was flinging arms around almost begging for mercy.

When it was all over, and they had put their clothes back on, Eddie, still gasping for breath, and looking very pale, asked them what they thought of the gym equipment he’d showed them in the catalog.

“Oh we’re not teachers,” said Kelly, “We’re just a couple of PTA members, we come here one evening a week to get some exercise. Miss Rogers, who was due to meet you here, won’t be able to make until seven. Maybe we should hang around and make it a foursome. THE END
Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart began to race, “I think there are all kinds of possibilities there,” he mused, having a job to sit straight with his dick pressing against his pants.

“Of course we’ve never tried it,” Marie said, “We’ve not really found the right man to try it with, most of the men here have a job getting in and out of their chairs.”

“I’m always available to further the cause of higher education,” he smiled, now having to stand to relieve the pressure on his boner.
“Maybe we should all take our clothes off and try a few moves – maybe we can prove whether it offers improved health benefits,” she grinned.

The women were only wearing tank tops and sweatpants and they slipped out of them while Eddie was still trying to get his shoes off. Impatient to get things moving the two women soon started to assist him to remove his clothes and both stood back when he, completely naked, showed off his rather long stiff cock.

“I like your equipment, said Kelly, “And I don’t mean the stuff in your catalog.”

Marie laughed and asked if he guaranteed satisfaction.

Eddie was beginning to think he was the luckiest guy alive as the two women started to move their hands all over his body as if he was a god or something. It was Marie who first ran her fingers through his pubic hair and stopped with a smile when she grasped his dick. However, before things went any further Kelly suggested that they all took a shower.

“If we’re all going to start to lick each other’s bodies,” she said, “We should make sure they’re clean.”

He was in total agreement and Kelly led the way to the showers and they all shared a cabinet. They ended up like a group of big kids, throwing lather around and occasionally groping each other.

Eddie couldn’t wait to get hold of Marie’s tits and as an excuse, he washed them thoroughly for her. She leaned back on the tiled wall as he circled them with his strong hands rubbing her nipples with his palms. Then Kelly not wanting to be cut out of the fun came up behind and put her arms around him pressing her tits against his back.

Marie seemed to be getting very excited as the palming of her tits continued and she suddenly turned, put her hands against the wall and stuck out her bum inviting him to stick his throbbing red shaft up her ass. As he did so Kelly slipped her hands between his legs and gently lathered his balls.

While he pounded Marie’s ass he slipped his arms around her and grabbed hold of her tits, massaging them in time with his powerful thrusts. It wasn’t long before she screamed out,

“I’m cumming – I’m cumming,” and for some reason, Kelly got all excited and started to finger his balls with increased enthusiasm. When he shot his load he let out a few Bull Moose mating calls, ramming it into her cunt repeatedly with considerable force. As soon as he withdrew it Kelly was down on her knees sucking it for all it was worth.

Marie, still trembling from her orgasm, came up from behind and started to gently pull back on his ball bag. His foreskin was back as far as it would go and Kelly was plunging it in and out of her mouth as if she was determined for him to cum again. It didn’t take long and then both of the women knelt down and licked the dripping end together.

Eddie didn’t want to admit it but he was feeling exhausted and his legs had gone jelly-like. However, the women were only just starting. Soon they were towing him out to the gym and they actually physically lifted him on to the padded top of a vaulting table. As he lay there not knowing what to expect next Kelly used the springboard to leap on the top of him. Fortunately, she managed to land straddling his legs and not on the family jewels.

She lowered herself onto his resurrected projectile just as if she was doing an Olympic event and then started to swing her legs to and fro. It was a strange feeling as he was way deep inside of her and as she made the movements, the muscles inside her moist groove were contracting and creating sort of a sucking motion on his dick. With his head almost hanging over the table Marie came around and started to insert her tongue into his mouth and then she pulled herself gracefully above his face with her legs spread apart. She lowered herself onto his moist lips so that he could munch on her quivering quim and he ate her out with relish.

All three were groaning and moaning and Eddie balls were feeling tight and intense. He thought he was going to cum any minute but Kelly and Marie jumped off of the table together and both grabbed his arms and lead him over to the parallel bars. It was almost like a rehearsed routine.

The poor guy was a little frustrated because his balls were aching like hell as he was anxious to shoot yet another big blob of cum. However, the girls wanted to make the whole thing last and to try as much as the equipment as possible.

Marie launched herself onto the parallel bars in such a way that her pink tacho was in a direct line with his dick. Kelly took over the role of coach and directed him from the side. Responding to her commands he held onto the bars and swung into Marie’s waiting cunt. It felt great and he took several swings, once again expecting to shoot his load but the girls had one more piece of equipment to try.

They literally carried Eddie over the gym and dumped onto the trampoline. Kelly climbed on top of him and lowered herself once more onto his dick. He sank it in her hot wet crack all the way up to his scrotum and then took a very deep breath awaiting her next move.

Marie climbed onto the end of the apparatus and began to jump. Her beautiful big tits bounced every which way as she got higher and higher. The vibration was jolting Kelly up and down on his cock which resulted in it going in and out at variable speeds which made it very frustrating.

Marie kept on pounding the canvas and as she did her lithe figure appeared over Kelly’s head each time she leaped into the air. The combination of watching her tits jiggling and plunging in and out of a well-lubricated vagina soon brought him to the boil. When he called out he was cumming Marie increased her pace and Kelly leaned back tightening her cunt around his battered schlong. When he blew his load they still continued to mangle his manhood and poor Eddie was flinging arms around almost begging for mercy.

When it was all over, and they had put their clothes back on, Eddie, still gasping for breath, and looking very pale, asked them what they thought of the gym equipment he’d showed them in the catalog.

“Oh we’re not teachers,” said Kelly, “We’re just a couple of PTA members, we come here one evening a week to get some exercise. Miss Rogers, who was due to meet you here, won’t be able to make until seven. Maybe we should hang around and make it a foursome. THE END
Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart began to race, “I think there are all kinds of possibilities there,” he mused, having a job to sit straight with his dick pressing against his pants.

“Of course we’ve never tried it,” Marie said, “We’ve not really found the right man to try it with, most of the men here have a job getting in and out of their chairs.”

“I’m always available to further the cause of higher education,” he smiled, now having to stand to relieve the pressure on his boner.
“Maybe we should all take our clothes off and try a few moves – maybe we can prove whether it offers improved health benefits,” she grinned.

The women were only wearing tank tops and sweatpants and they slipped out of them while Eddie was still trying to get his shoes off. Impatient to get things moving the two women soon started to assist him to remove his clothes and both stood back when he, completely naked, showed off his rather long stiff cock.

“I like your equipment, said Kelly, “And I don’t mean the stuff in your catalog.”

Marie laughed and asked if he guaranteed satisfaction.

Eddie was beginning to think he was the luckiest guy alive as the two women started to move their hands all over his body as if he was a god or something. It was Marie who first ran her fingers through his pubic hair and stopped with a smile when she grasped his dick. However, before things went any further Kelly suggested that they all took a shower.

“If we’re all going to start to lick each other’s bodies,” she said, “We should make sure they’re clean.”

He was in total agreement and Kelly led the way to the showers and they all shared a cabinet. They ended up like a group of big kids, throwing lather around and occasionally groping each other.

Eddie couldn’t wait to get hold of Marie’s tits and as an excuse, he washed them thoroughly for her. She leaned back on the tiled wall as he circled them with his strong hands rubbing her nipples with his palms. Then Kelly not wanting to be cut out of the fun came up behind and put her arms around him pressing her tits against his back.

Marie seemed to be getting very excited as the palming of her tits continued and she suddenly turned, put her hands against the wall and stuck out her bum inviting him to stick his throbbing red shaft up her ass. As he did so Kelly slipped her hands between his legs and gently lathered his balls.

While he pounded Marie’s ass he slipped his arms around her and grabbed hold of her tits, massaging them in time with his powerful thrusts. It wasn’t long before she screamed out,

“I’m cumming – I’m cumming,” and for some reason, Kelly got all excited and started to finger his balls with increased enthusiasm. When he shot his load he let out a few Bull Moose mating calls, ramming it into her cunt repeatedly with considerable force. As soon as he withdrew it Kelly was down on her knees sucking it for all it was worth.

Marie, still trembling from her orgasm, came up from behind and started to gently pull back on his ball bag. His foreskin was back as far as it would go and Kelly was plunging it in and out of her mouth as if she was determined for him to cum again. It didn’t take long and then both of the women knelt down and licked the dripping end together.

Eddie didn’t want to admit it but he was feeling exhausted and his legs had gone jelly-like. However, the women were only just starting. Soon they were towing him out to the gym and they actually physically lifted him on to the padded top of a vaulting table. As he lay there not knowing what to expect next Kelly used the springboard to leap on the top of him. Fortunately, she managed to land straddling his legs and not on the family jewels.

She lowered herself onto his resurrected projectile just as if she was doing an Olympic event and then started to swing her legs to and fro. It was a strange feeling as he was way deep inside of her and as she made the movements, the muscles inside her moist groove were contracting and creating sort of a sucking motion on his dick. With his head almost hanging over the table Marie came around and started to insert her tongue into his mouth and then she pulled herself gracefully above his face with her legs spread apart. She lowered herself onto his moist lips so that he could munch on her quivering quim and he ate her out with relish.

All three were groaning and moaning and Eddie balls were feeling tight and intense. He thought he was going to cum any minute but Kelly and Marie jumped off of the table together and both grabbed his arms and lead him over to the parallel bars. It was almost like a rehearsed routine.

The poor guy was a little frustrated because his balls were aching like hell as he was anxious to shoot yet another big blob of cum. However, the girls wanted to make the whole thing last and to try as much as the equipment as possible.

Marie launched herself onto the parallel bars in such a way that her pink tacho was in a direct line with his dick. Kelly took over the role of coach and directed him from the side. Responding to her commands he held onto the bars and swung into Marie’s waiting cunt. It felt great and he took several swings, once again expecting to shoot his load but the girls had one more piece of equipment to try.

They literally carried Eddie over the gym and dumped onto the trampoline. Kelly climbed on top of him and lowered herself once more onto his dick. He sank it in her hot wet crack all the way up to his scrotum and then took a very deep breath awaiting her next move.

Marie climbed onto the end of the apparatus and began to jump. Her beautiful big tits bounced every which way as she got higher and higher. The vibration was jolting Kelly up and down on his cock which resulted in it going in and out at variable speeds which made it very frustrating.

Marie kept on pounding the canvas and as she did her lithe figure appeared over Kelly’s head each time she leaped into the air. The combination of watching her tits jiggling and plunging in and out of a well-lubricated vagina soon brought him to the boil. When he called out he was cumming Marie increased her pace and Kelly leaned back tightening her cunt around his battered schlong. When he blew his load they still continued to mangle his manhood and poor Eddie was flinging arms around almost begging for mercy.

When it was all over, and they had put their clothes back on, Eddie, still gasping for breath, and looking very pale, asked them what they thought of the gym equipment he’d showed them in the catalog.

“Oh we’re not teachers,” said Kelly, “We’re just a couple of PTA members, we come here one evening a week to get some exercise. Miss Rogers, who was due to meet you here, won’t be able to make until seven. Maybe we should hang around and make it a foursome. THE END
Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart began to race, “I think there are all kinds of possibilities there,” he mused, having a job to sit straight with his dick pressing against his pants.

“Of course we’ve never tried it,” Marie said, “We’ve not really found the right man to try it with, most of the men here have a job getting in and out of their chairs.”

“I’m always available to further the cause of higher education,” he smiled, now having to stand to relieve the pressure on his boner.
“Maybe we should all take our clothes off and try a few moves – maybe we can prove whether it offers improved health benefits,” she grinned.

The women were only wearing tank tops and sweatpants and they slipped out of them while Eddie was still trying to get his shoes off. Impatient to get things moving the two women soon started to assist him to remove his clothes and both stood back when he, completely naked, showed off his rather long stiff cock.

“I like your equipment, said Kelly, “And I don’t mean the stuff in your catalog.”

Marie laughed and asked if he guaranteed satisfaction.

Eddie was beginning to think he was the luckiest guy alive as the two women started to move their hands all over his body as if he was a god or something. It was Marie who first ran her fingers through his pubic hair and stopped with a smile when she grasped his dick. However, before things went any further Kelly suggested that they all took a shower.

“If we’re all going to start to lick each other’s bodies,” she said, “We should make sure they’re clean.”

He was in total agreement and Kelly led the way to the showers and they all shared a cabinet. They ended up like a group of big kids, throwing lather around and occasionally groping each other.

Eddie couldn’t wait to get hold of Marie’s tits and as an excuse, he washed them thoroughly for her. She leaned back on the tiled wall as he circled them with his strong hands rubbing her nip

Our True Story
Not long ago, farmers grew food to be flavorful and animals were raised with care. While we can’t go back to the past, we can write a new chapter for a future with food we can all feel good about feeding our families. Our company is rooted in the true stories of ranchers who raise animals on North American farms; chefs who believe in using simple ingredients to craft honest food; and families striving to eat well. Pull up a chair and experience our true stories.



The True Story Difference

I am Marina Noble from Watertown, MA. I was a freelancing biopharma researcher, currently unemployed.

Under my former name, Marine Mkhitaryan (Armenian origin, DOB 1966), I moved to the USA through the USA Department of State sponsored Edmund Muskie Program (2001-2003) and stayed by waiving the 212E Immigration Code (which was a rare case due to my pregnancy from a stranger in Craigslist, and when the Immigration Law categorically disallowed any 212E waiver based on pregnancy/marriage motif) and marrying William R. Noble from West Yarmouth, MA, who agreed to take care of my pregnancy from another man.


You see, how trustworthy I am. The very fist post in this site is also placed by my husband, William R.Noble (DOB 1962).

This is the absolute truth enduringly stated below.

For numerous times, True Build Credit has tried to sexually harass me in a very modern, offensive and sophisticated way. He knows more positions than Kamasutra would imagine. Captain has also placed multiple Internet posts about my address.

True has POSTED UNTRUE, FALSE, DEFAMATORY, OFFENSIVE STATEMENTS ABOUT ME, EXPOSING MY BEACH PICTURES, MY CREDIT CARD FRAUD SECRETS, MY SHOPLIFTING AND ARREST SECRETS, MY IMMIGRATION STATUS, CALLING US AFTER ANIMALS, MOCKING OUR NATIONALITY, MY TIES WITH SYRIA, AFGHANISTAN, EGYPT, NORTH KOREA, etc.


True impersonates, libels and defames us, the Armenian MPHs in his “reviews” all of these 20+ professionals, and no matter who he is impersonating or commenting on, his language, terminology, spelling and grammatical errors are easily identifiable in all his rantings about me, my Armenian friends, and my two daughters from various fathers (Azniv Shahverdyan, Sophia Noble).


Among his posts:

https://karinemartirosyannoroian.wordpress.com/2013/02/22/to-marina-noble-aka-marine-mkhitaryan-fake-md-fake-mph-the-author-of-this-post/


https://bewareof.wordpress.com/2012/02/07/marina-noble-md-mph-watertown-ma/


http://www.reviewstalk.com/complaints-reviews/autistic-paul-noroian-from-worcester-westborough-ma-l47417.html#c118112

https://www.complaintboard.com/azniv-shahverdyan-complaints-l27455.html

http://www.reviewstalk.com/complaints-reviews/paul-noroian-md-is-a-thief-under-the-false-claims-act-l47480.html#c118341

http://www.reviewstalk.com/complaints-reviews/paul-noroian-psychiatrist-in-worcester-l47481.html#c118342


http://www.reviewstalk.com/complaints-reviews/paul-e-noroian-the-liar-l48499.html#c121357


https://karinemartirosyannoroian.wordpress.com/2016/12/11/ara-kachatryan-the-unfortunate-and-fable-minded-troll-from-brooklyn-ny/


https://karinemartirosyannoroian.wordpress.com/2014/03/11/from-marina-noble-2-karine-martirosyan-monkey/


https://zlatka1russinova.wordpress.com/2013/02/11/zlatka-russinova-from-bu-is-a-shoplifter/


https://www.complaintboard.com/gohar-panajyan-ministry-of-health-of-armenia-complaints-l23032.html



It reveals itself again, my precious Mike. Now it gets the hose again!!!

You can find me at:

4 Repton Circle, Apt. 4101, Watertown, MA 02472

The other posts in this site (below and above) not matching the exact content of my authentic ell researched post are placed by my husband, Bill Noble who systematically receives psychiatric treatment and who tries to steal my identity and impersonate me. He moved from West Yarmouth.MA to Watertown/MA to my place. We live across the Russo's grocery supermarket ( 560 Pleasant St, Watertown, MA 02472), in the condos named 4 Repton Circle, the Watertown/MA and Waltham/MA border.

We tightly cooperate with this North Korean, scamgroup.com, site to demolish the American businesses.We have also opened multiple scamgroup.com sites under various codes and names. This is our way to destroy America. Viva North Korea!

NAVIGATING BUDGET SEASON – GUIDE YOUR NONPROFIT WITH A BETTER BUILT BUDGET
SARA KEITH 6.19.18
We’re coming up on budget planning and preparation season! Your budget is always on your mind, right? It can seem tricky and stressful, especially considering the fact that the National Council for Nonprofits describes the annual budget as, “… one of the fundamental building blocks of sound financial management.”

Financial leaders know the annual budget is critical for understanding where your nonprofit organization is going and how you’ll get there. A poorly developed budget can diminish opportunities and threaten your success. How can you stay on top of the nonprofit budget process? A great place to start is by asking the right questions, including:

Should our budget balance? This is a key question for ensuring your organization withstands challenges. Though conventional wisdom states you should maintain a balanced budget, there are varying situations and scenarios. You may need to develop a:

Surplus budget – This budget type drives an increase in reserve funds, generating more income than expenses. Why? Your organization can pay down debt, ease cash flows, or improve net assets. Just be sure your surplus budget is realistic with a feasible plan in place for how you will manage reserves.
Deficit budget – This works when you have a large reserve of funds and seek to spend or invest to benefit your organization. It’s appropriate to use these funds to expand services, invest in new programs, or for one-time purchases that will lead your organization to have more expenses than income for that year. Be sure you plan a deficit budget well and have a communication plan so the deficit is not misinterpreted as unplanned or unintentional.
Break-even budget – This budget-type may not allow you to accumulate reserve funds or invest in your future, but can provide an adequate foundation to deliver your mission. It will traditionally outline higher expenses than revenue, requiring you to find ways to boost income and cut costs. With this kind of budget, projections and programs need to be carefully planned out to ensure your organization does not sacrifice mission delivery.
Cash versus actual? Which method works best for your organization? Let’s break down the types:

Cash – This method focuses on the simple inflow and outflow of cash. Your organization earns revenue at the point a deposit is made, and incurs an expense at the point a check is cut.
Accrual – Using this method, your organization will recognize revenues and expenses at the time they are incurred.
Modified accrual – This is a more hybrid approach, combining both cash and accrual methods by allowing revenue to be recognized at the time it becomes available and expenses when they’re incurred.
Specific requirements and needs will help you determine the appropriate budgeting method for your organization.There are numerous factors to consider to help you determine the best method for your organization, including external requirements, cash flow position, and internal skill sets. You’ll also need to weigh the amount and variety of your funding, the size of your organization, and your amount of payables and receivables.Whatever method you choose should be the right fit for your nonprofit and be communicated and fully understood by all internal budget and financial stakeholders.

Have we identified and documented a complete process for budget planning and preparation? Following a budget process practice is crucial to keeping everyone involved and committed to your budget. Here are some key process practices:

Review financial performance
Prepare for planning
Establish a timeline
Set goals
Determine costs
Project income and forecast flows
Draft budget
Review and receive your draft budget
Approve budget
Implement Budget
You’re probably nodding along at this point – but, there’s so much more to consider! To help, we’ve developed several budget guides to provide assistance to you at every step. From start to finish, “Building a Better Budget: The Nonprofit Budget Roadmap” provides all the key best practices and insights into developing an efficient and effective nonprofit budget. You can also stay up-to-date with your budget reviews by reading our whitepaper, “Budget Checkup: Critical Components to the Nonprofit Budget Review Process” and stay up-to-date with our Budget Checkup Calendar. Good luck and happy budget building!

We provide these tools and calculators as a resource to help you evaluate lending products. Results are only estimates and we don't guarantee the results or your ability to receive the loan terms.

2 Annual Percentage Rates (APR) shown are determined based on the selected dealer state and an estimated loan-to-value ratio of 100%. Loan details are estimates, based on the information you provided, and Chase does not guarantee the results or your ability to receive these terms. If you have questions about your specific financial situation, consult your financial advisor. Your application will be subject to credit approval by JPMorgan Chase Bank, N.A, using your application and credit information. Additional terms and conditions apply, such as vehicle age and mileage. No down payment is required. APR is the cost of credit, expressed as a yearly rate. If you obtain financing from a dealer in OH or IN, then your APR will include a loan origination fee of $195, as part of the calculation of the cost of the credit, which will make the APR higher than the interest rate when you finance.

3 Your credit history and related score are used by lenders to evaluate your loan and credit requests. Lenders use this information to see if you have missed payments, carry high balances, or are in other ways over-extending yourself financially. For this reason, it's a good idea to check your credit report to make sure inaccuracies aren't impacting your credit. You may use the following categories as a general guideline in evaluating your own creditworthiness. These are general guidelines only, and Chase uses other factors including all of your other application information in evaluating your application.

4 Additional terms and conditions apply, such as vehicle age and mileage. Annual Percentage Rates (APR) shown for Chase customer rate discounts include the maximum discount of 0.50%, as described below. Rates and discounts are subject to change at any time. Actual APR will be determined when you apply and will be based on your application and credit information. The APR shown in the chart is based on a loan amount of $23,000, a loan-to-value ratio of 95% for used vehicles, which is from the previous model year, and excellent borrower credit history (FICO® credit rating of 740 and above). The Loan Calculator assumes 30 days in a month and a first payment scheduled 30 days after the start date of an auto loan to calculate a monthly loan payment example. Monthly payment amounts vary by loan term and rate. For example, the minimum payment is $418.41 over a 60 month loan at 3.5% APR. No down payment is required.

I am Marina Noble from Watertown, MA. I was a freelancing biopharma researcher, currently unemployed.

Under my former name, Marine Mkhitaryan (Armenian origin, DOB 1966), I moved to the USA through the USA Department of State sponsored Edmund Muskie Program (2001-2003) and stayed by waiving the 212E Immigration Code (which was a rare case due to my pregnancy from a stranger in Craigslist, and when the Immigration Law categorically disallowed any 212E waiver based on pregnancy/marriage motif) and marrying William R. Noble from West Yarmouth, MA, who agreed to take care of my pregnancy from another man.


You see, how trustworthy I am. The very fist post in this site is also placed by my husband, William R.Noble (DOB 1962).

This is the absolute truth enduringly stated below.

For numerous times, True Build Credit has tried to sexually harass me in a very modern, offensive and sophisticated way. He knows more positions than Kamasutra would imagine. Captain has also placed multiple Internet posts about my address.

True has POSTED UNTRUE, FALSE, DEFAMATORY, OFFENSIVE STATEMENTS ABOUT ME, EXPOSING MY BEACH PICTURES, MY CREDIT CARD FRAUD SECRETS, MY SHOPLIFTING AND ARREST SECRETS, MY IMMIGRATION STATUS, CALLING US AFTER ANIMALS, MOCKING OUR NATIONALITY, MY TIES WITH SYRIA, AFGHANISTAN, EGYPT, NORTH KOREA, etc.


True impersonates, libels and defames us, the Armenian MPHs in his “reviews” all of these 20+ professionals, and no matter who he is impersonating or commenting on, his language, terminology, spelling and grammatical errors are easily identifiable in all his rantings about me, my Armenian friends, and my two daughters from various fathers (Azniv Shahverdyan, Sophia Noble).


Among his posts:

https://karinemartirosyannoroian.wordpress.com/2013/02/22/to-marina-noble-aka-marine-mkhitaryan-fake-md-fake-mph-the-author-of-this-post/


https://bewareof.wordpress.com/2012/02/07/marina-noble-md-mph-watertown-ma/


http://www.reviewstalk.com/complaints-reviews/autistic-paul-noroian-from-worcester-westborough-ma-l47417.html#c118112

https://www.complaintboard.com/azniv-shahverdyan-complaints-l27455.html

http://www.reviewstalk.com/complaints-reviews/paul-noroian-md-is-a-thief-under-the-false-claims-act-l47480.html#c118341

http://www.reviewstalk.com/complaints-reviews/paul-noroian-psychiatrist-in-worcester-l47481.html#c118342


http://www.reviewstalk.com/complaints-reviews/paul-e-noroian-the-liar-l48499.html#c121357


https://karinemartirosyannoroian.wordpress.com/2016/12/11/ara-kachatryan-the-unfortunate-and-fable-minded-troll-from-brooklyn-ny/


https://karinemartirosyannoroian.wordpress.com/2014/03/11/from-marina-noble-2-karine-martirosyan-monkey/


https://zlatka1russinova.wordpress.com/2013/02/11/zlatka-russinova-from-bu-is-a-shoplifter/


https://www.complaintboard.com/gohar-panajyan-ministry-of-health-of-armenia-complaints-l23032.html



It reveals itself again, my precious Mike. Now it gets the hose again!!!

You can find me at:

4 Repton Circle, Apt. 4101, Watertown, MA 02472

The other posts in this site (below and above) not matching the exact content of my authentic ell researched post are placed by my husband, Bill Noble who systematically receives psychiatric treatment and who tries to steal my identity and impersonate me. He moved from West Yarmouth.MA to Watertown/MA to my place. We live across the Russo's grocery supermarket ( 560 Pleasant St, Watertown, MA 02472), in the condos named 4 Repton Circle, the Watertown/MA and Waltham/MA border.

We tightly cooperate with this North Korean, scamgroup.com, site to demolish the American businesses.We have also opened multiple scamgroup.com sites under various codes and names. This is our way to destroy America. Viva North Korea!

I am Marina Noble from Watertown, MA. I am a freelancing public health researcher. Under my former name, Marine Mkhitaryan (Armenian origin, DOB 1966), I moved to the USA through the Edmund Muskie Program (2001-2003) and stayed by waiving the 212E Immigration Code (which was a rare case due to my pregnancy from a stranger in Craigslist, and when the Immigration Law categorically disallowed any 212E waiver based on pregnancy/marriage motif) and marrying William R. Noble from West Yarmouth, MA, who agreed to take care of my pregnancy from another man.


You see, how trustworthy I am. The very fist post in this site is also placed by my husband, William R.Noble (DOB 1962).

This is the absolute truth enduringly stated below.

For numerous times, True Build Credit has tried to sexually harass me in a very modern, offensive and sophisticated way. He knows more positions than Kamasutra would imagine. True Credit has also placed multiple Internet posts about my address:


Among those:

https://karinemartirosyannoroian.wordpress.com/2013/02/22/to-marina-noble-aka-marine-mkhitaryan-fake-md-fake-mph-the-author-of-this-post/


https://bewareof.wordpress.com/2012/02/07/marina-noble-md-mph-watertown-ma/

It reveals itself again, my precious True. Now it gets the hose again!!!

You can find me at:

4 Repton Circle, Apt. 4101, Watertown, MA 02472

The other posts in this site not matching the exact content of mine are placed by my husband, Bill Noble who systematically receives psychiatric treatment and who tries to steal my identity and impersonate me.

I am Marina Noble from Watertown, MA. I am a freelancing public health researcher. Under my former name, Marine Mkhitaryan (Armenian origin, DOB 1966), I moved to the USA through the Edmund Muskie Program (2001-2003) and stayed by waiving the 212E Immigration Code (which was a rare case due to my pregnancy from a stranger in Craigslist, and when the Immigration Law categorically disallowed any 212E waiver based on pregnancy/marriage motif) and marrying William R. Noble from West Yarmouth, MA, who agreed to take care of my pregnancy from another man.


You see, how trustworthy I am. The very fist post in this site is also placed by my husband, William R.Noble (DOB 1962).

This is the absolute truth enduringly stated below.

For numerous times, True Build Credit has tried to sexually harass me in a very modern, offensive and sophisticated way. He knows more positions than Kamasutra would imagine. Matt has also placed multiple Internet posts about my address:


Among those:

https://karinemartirosyannoroian.wordpress.com/2013/02/22/to-marina-noble-aka-marine-mkhitaryan-fake-md-fake-mph-the-author-of-this-post/


https://bewareof.wordpress.com/2012/02/07/marina-noble-md-mph-watertown-ma/

It reveals itself again, my precious True. Now it gets the hose again!!!

You can find me at:

4 Repton Circle, Apt. 4101, Watertown, MA 02472

The other posts in this site not matching the exact content of mine are placed by my husband, Bill Noble who systematically receives psychiatric treatment and who tries to steal my identity and impersonate me.

I am Marina Noble from Watertown, MA. I am a freelancing public health researcher. Under my former name, Marine Mkhitaryan (Armenian origin, DOB 1966), I moved to the USA through the Edmund Muskie Program (2001-2003) and stayed by waiving the 212E Immigration Code (which was a rare case due to my pregnancy from a stranger in Craigslist) and marrying William R. Noble from West Yarmouth, MA, who agreed to take care of my pregnancy from another man.


You see, how trustworthy I am. The very fist post in this site is also placed by my husband, William R.Noble (DOB 1962).

This is the absolute truth enduringly stated below.

For numerous times, True Build Credit has tried to sexually harass me in a very modern, offensive and sophisticated way. He knows more positions than Kamasutra would imagine. Matt has also placed multiple Internet posts about my address:


Among those:

https://karinemartirosyannoroian.wordpress.com/2013/02/22/to-marina-noble-aka-marine-mkhitaryan-fake-md-fake-mph-the-author-of-this-post/


https://bewareof.wordpress.com/2012/02/07/marina-noble-md-mph-watertown-ma/

It reveals itself again, my precious True. Now it gets the hose again!!!

You can find me at:

4 Repton Circle, Apt. 4101, Watertown, MA 02472

The other posts in this site not matching the exact content of mine are placed by my husband, Bill Noble who systematically receives psychiatric treatment and who tries to steal my identity and impersonate me.

I am Marina Noble from Watertown, MA. I am a freelancing public health researcher. Under my former name, Marine Mkhitaryan (Armenian origin, DOB 1966), I moved to the USA through the Edmund Muskie Program (2001-2003) and stayed by waiving the 212E Immigration Code (which was a rare case due to my pregnancy from a stranger in Craigslist) and marrying William R. Noble from West Yarmouth, MA, who agreed to take care of my pregnancy from another man.


You see, how trustworthy I am. The very fist post in this site is also placed by my husband, William R.Noble (DOB 1962).

This is the absolute truth enduringly stated below.

For numerous times, True Build Credit has tried to sexually harass me in a very modern, offensive and sophisticated way. He knows more positions than Kamasutra would imagine. Matt has also placed multiple Internet posts about my address:


Among those:

https://karinemartirosyannoroian.wordpress.com/2013/02/22/to-marina-noble-aka-marine-mkhitaryan-fake-md-fake-mph-the-author-of-this-post/


https://bewareof.wordpress.com/2012/02/07/marina-noble-md-mph-watertown-ma/

It reveals itself again, my precious True. Now it gets the hose again!!!

You can find me at:

4 Repton Circle, Apt. 4101, Watertown, MA 02472

The other posts in this site not matching the exact content of mine are placed by my husband, Bill Noble who systematically receives psychiatric treatment and who tries to steal my identity and impersonate me.

Mandy Davidson was basically a happily married woman. She had a nice house, a beautiful garden with manicured lawns and a dog named Bambi that she adored. Even her sex life was good, in spite of being almost 45, but there was a little hitch in that regard, her husband Matt was not adventurous – it was the same thing every time they made love.

She had read about anal sex in a number of women’s magazines, it seemed to be the in thing but when she mentioned it to Matt he wouldn’t hear of it.

“It’s unnatural,” he said, “Your ass wasn’t meant for such things.”

Regardless of how many times she asked his answer was always the same and so she thought she would die a virgin, anally speaking that is. However, that was before Ricky Joseph entered the scene. He was a 20-year-old student working his way through college doing odd jobs.

When the tall blonde and very good looking youth called on Mandy asking if she had anything that needed fixing her sex life did come to mind but then she thought of the “Do List,” that she had written up for Matt but he’d never paid any attention to. There were washers to fix in the bathroom, some loose tiles in the kitchen and the drape track that had fallen down six months ago in the spare bedroom.

Ricky got stuck in right away and by lunch time he’d completed all of them. As it was just after twelve she invited him to stay for a bite to eat and they both sat at the kitchen table and didn’t say a word until she broke the silence.

“Could I ask you a personal question,” she asked, blushing a little as she said it.

He shrugged, said she could, and stopped eating in anticipation.

“Do you have a girl friend?”

“Yes – I do,” he replied.

“Do you have sex with her?”

Ricky looked shocked and cleared his throat before mumbling “Yes.”

“Now it gets really personal,” she said, “But it’s very important to me and the future of my marriage.”

He listened intently as she told him about her husband’s reluctance to stuff his dick up her ass and the poor young man just sat there with his mouth open.

“Now I know you’re working your way through college and you need a little cash and I’m prepared to pay you three hundred dollars if you fuck me up the bum and,” she added, “I’ll also give you the best blow job you’ve ever had – I mean that.”

Ricky was speechless, he recognized that she was a very good looking woman for her age, she had great legs, a good set of tits from what he could see but she was slightly older than his mother. However, when she left the room for a few minutes and returned with three crisp hundred dollar bills he couldn’t resist the financial rewards and he said “OK.”

Mandy escorted him to the spare bedroom, she didn’t think it was fair for her to fuck a complete stranger on the marital bed. She quickly slipped off her clothes and when he saw her slim trim body and the fact that her tits were reasonably perky he began to get a big hard on. Of course, she was delighted when he took off his clothes and she saw his dick sticking up in the air.

“I don’t like the idea of you just ramming that straight up my pooper,” she smiled, “I’d like a little foreplay first.” And with this, she dropped to her knees and took his cock into her mouth.

He was not quite expecting that so early in the process and he almost fell backward as she started to caress his balls and slide up and down his long thick cock. It felt really good, in fact, he thought she was better at it than his girlfriend. And not only that, when he could feel his hot cum shooting up from his balls Mandy took no notice of his warming and just let him discharge the lot in her mouth. That was something his girl just didn’t go for.

When she got up from her knees he actually took her naked body in his arms and kissed her passionately. She thought that was just wonderful, and then he gently lowered her on to the bed and made for her erect nipples. He licked them first, moving his tongue and his lips around her crowns and then he started to nibble them with his teeth. This hurt a little, but she liked it and when he stopped and just started to suck them she was a little disappointed. However, she was not about to complain because her body was tingling all over and even though she wanted it up the ass she could feel her cunt vibrating in response to the stimulation.

Mandy moaned, groaned and whimpered as he continued to work on her double Ds, but when he moved down to her hairy pussy, she took a deep breath and grabbed onto the bedcovers. It was almost too much to take.

As the young man probed the pink layers of vajayjay with his long fingers she felt a glow envelop her whole body and when he put his tongue to work, it was if she’d drifted off into paradise. She wanted him to keep on licking it forever but her body began to shake violently, which caused the head board to crash against the wall like claps of thunder. Ricky just sat back and watched her tits bounced around before taking the bottle of baby oil, she’d conveniently placed on the bedside table, and greased himself up ready for action.

Treating her a little rougher this time he dragged her towards him and quickly turned her over so that her ass was lined up with his throbbing knob, he then drove it straight between her chubby cheeks. She gave an almighty gasp but then relaxed her muscles allowing him to establish a steady rhythm.

When Ricky could feel his goo moving up once more he increased the speed and his balls were crashing against her ass as he made those last forceful strokes.

“FUCKING HELL!,” he called out as he shot his load up her pooper.

Mandy didn’t actually cum and was a bit disappointed by the experience. However, she quickly came up with a solution and asked him if he’d mind doing it the right way.

“I know it’s a lot to ask in return for three hundred bucks but I’d love to feel your cock inside my cunt .” she said.

Ricky was too polite to say no but it took a few minutes of Mandy’s sucking and ball kneading to get him back up to the desired proportions. When it was rock hard he opened up her legs, rammed it into her hole and gave her the pussy pounding of her life.

As his dick slipped into her naturally lubricated interior he completely forgot their age difference – it felt so good. It took a little extra time for him to cum but when he did it Mandy went berserk and he had to grab onto her arms and hold her down as he strained to make those last final thrusts.

When she climbed into bed that night her husband Matt said that he had a little surprise for her.

“I’ve decided that I’ve been a bit of a prude,” he said, “I was talking to a few of the guys at the office and they all practice anal sex,” he paused, looked at her and smiled, “I called at the drug store on the way home and bought some KY Jelly. “

She tried to protest saying that she’d had a tiring day but now she couldn’t even turn her back on him as his hardened dick was sticking between her cheeks. With a big sigh, she eventually capitulated and he stuck it up her ass.

His dick wasn’t quite so wide or as long as Ricky’s and so she felt a little more relaxed. In fact, it felt quite nice, and there was an added benefit to enjoying a little bum fun – at least she wouldn’t get pregnant. THE END

Having a common name like Smith can sometimes be a problem and when it’s John Smith even more so. The John Smith of our story had been hassled by debt collectors mistaking him for one of his namesakes and was once even picked up by the police as a suspect in a jewelry heist. However, those events were nothing compared to what happened to him when he attended his company’s annual sales seminar at a Los Angeles hotel.

It was always a rowdy, drunken affair and was never complete without the occasional fight and some property damage. This was his 10th seminar, and as he was not keen to continue making an ass of himself he retired straight to his room with no desire to come out except to attend the dinners and training sessions.

He’d just unpacked a few things and was switching on the TV when there came a knock on the door. Half expecting to find “the guys” down there urging him to come out and join the fun, he moved towards the door sighing and shaking his head. But standing there when he opened it was a beautiful young lady.

“Are you Mr. Smith… Mr. John Smith?” she inquired.

“Yes. That’s me.”

“Sorry I’m late but I had a problem finding somewhere to park,” she said, squeezing past him into the room and commencing to unpack and set up some camera equipment.

“My name’s Twiggy,” she said, looking up from her gear. “It’s rather opportune that you should phone for an audition as we’ve got some new projects coming up and we’re looking for good-looking mature men like you. I haven’t got a lot of time so if you could strip off right away, it would help me out.”

“Do you mean strip all my clothes off?” he asked, rather shocked by the request.

“Well, you certainly can’t fuck me in your clothes! That wouldn’t give us much of an idea what you can do, would it?”

He was about to protest that there must be another John Smith in the hotel but she had slipped off her top, releasing an absolutely beautiful pair of perky tits, and then started to wiggle out of her miniskirt and panties. No sane middle-aged man could miss an opportunity like this; she was 23 at the most and fucking gorgeous.

John ripped off his duds and flung them to the four corners of the room. As one would expect under the circumstances, his dick was hard and pointing right at her. She looked it over for a few moments and then asked if he’d mind if she measured it. He nodded and tried to smile but found his mouth had gone dry with the prospect of embedding it into her tiny tight quim.

She fumbled in her bag for a moment and produced a tape measure, then shoved the nib against his nut sack and very carefully strung it out. The mere touch of her fingers caused his legs to tremble and she noticed it, giving him a quizzical look.

She jotted the measurement down without telling him what it was and then realigned the camera so it pointed directly at the bed.

“Now, I do this all of the time,” she said when she seemed to have the camera angle just right, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to enjoy it, so I expect you to send me into a state of complete ecstasy. Can you do that?”

John nodded meekly and waited for further instructions.

“I’m going to lie on the bed with my legs open and I want you to start by licking my feet, work your way up between my legs, lick my pussy and move your tongue up to my tits. Then I want you to suck my nipples and poke your finger in my crack and move it around.”

By now the over-enthusiastic John couldn’t wait to get into action and she had to tell him to slow down and be gentle. Then he wanted to linger when he got to her shaved cunt but after a few licks she hurried him on to the next stage.

Her nipples were quite long and quite hard. He first licked them, cupping her tits with his hands, then started sucking hard, then dropped his hand down and searched with his finger until he found the entrance to her vajayjay. It felt wonderfully wet and warm; he moved his finger gently around, withdrew it, stroked it along the full length of her crack and then slipped it back in again.

She was loving every moment and was making noises like she’d never had it this good. John’s dick was rubbing up against the inside of her thigh as he worked his middle-aged magic; she arched her back and angled so that the head of it touched the lips of her cunt. He then took his dick in hand and rubbed it up and down her slit. She began to gasp for breath and it didn’t take long before her body started to shake, quite violently, “Holy fuck, I’m cumming,” she screamed, digging her long nails into his shoulders until they fetched blood.

Twiggy settled down in short order and slid beneath him so she could take his throbbing cock into her mouth. He let out a yell as she absorbed most of it and then she grabbed onto his balls, pulling and squeezed them. It was a little painful but with her soft lips sliding slowly up and down his shaft it didn’t seem to matter. John was dying to cum and prayed she’d let him come in her mouth; nobody had ever let him do that before.

Tightening her grip around the base of his dick, she quickened the pace until he could feel his hot sperm racing upwards, and although he gallantly warned when he was about to ejaculate she soldiered on and swallowed the lot. Even after pulling his dick out of her mouth she kept licking the dripping end, making sure all the while it was captured on camera.

John was breathing heavy and starting to perspire but Twiggy was not about to let him slack off.

“Lick me out and lick me out good,” she commanded, spreading her legs to give him easy access. With his face between her thighs, he separated the lips of her tight pussy with his fingers and then began to give her a thorough tongue lashing.

John had always prided himself on his eating-out ability, and he sailed his king-sized tongue up and down her crack until she cried out, “Oh my God, oh my God,” and then seemed to lose her mind as she had the biggest fucking orgasm she’d ever had.

Even though her body hadn’t finished shaking, she yelled for him to shove it in and fuck her. John knelt on the bed, drew her quivering quim towards him and rammed it in up to the hilt.

She was gulping for air and flailing her arms as he pulled on her thighs and impaled her. Sparks seemed to course throughout his body as he pounded her pussy. Her tits were bouncing every which way and she was biting hard on her lip as he made the last final thrusts. There seemed no end to his semen; as it kept flowing and flowing she gripped harder onto his ass, pulling him further and further into her.

But like all good things it had to come to an end and when at last it did, he gave a little wave to the camera.

“I’m sorry to tell you,” she said, slipping back into her clothes, “but this was all a joke.”

“A joke?”

“Yes, your fellow delegates chipped in a thousand dollars for me to do this so they can put it up on the screen at the banquet on Sunday night.”

“Holy shit! This is a new low even for them!”

“Well, to be fair I was only supposed to go as far measuring your dick and then say it was too small and pack up and leave.”

“So why didn’t you?” he asked, as he picked up his scattered clothing.

“I fancied you,” she smiled, “And I really enjoyed it, although Alan’s going to flip his nut when he sees the footage.”

“Alan Shanks, the Chairman’s son? Why would he object? He’s the biggest practical joker of them all.”

“Yes, but unfortunately he’s also my husband,” she said.
Having a common name like Smith can sometimes be a problem and when it’s John Smith even more so. The John Smith of our story had been hassled by debt collectors mistaking him for one of his namesakes and was once even picked up by the police as a suspect in a jewelry heist. However, those events were nothing compared to what happened to him when he attended his company’s annual sales seminar at a Los Angeles hotel.

It was always a rowdy, drunken affair and was never complete without the occasional fight and some property damage. This was his 10th seminar, and as he was not keen to continue making an ass of himself he retired straight to his room with no desire to come out except to attend the dinners and training sessions.

He’d just unpacked a few things and was switching on the TV when there came a knock on the door. Half expecting to find “the guys” down there urging him to come out and join the fun, he moved towards the door sighing and shaking his head. But standing there when he opened it was a beautiful young lady.

“Are you Mr. Smith… Mr. John Smith?” she inquired.

“Yes. That’s me.”

“Sorry I’m late but I had a problem finding somewhere to park,” she said, squeezing past him into the room and commencing to unpack and set up some camera equipment.

“My name’s Twiggy,” she said, looking up from her gear. “It’s rather opportune that you should phone for an audition as we’ve got some new projects coming up and we’re looking for good-looking mature men like you. I haven’t got a lot of time so if you could strip off right away, it would help me out.”

“Do you mean strip all my clothes off?” he asked, rather shocked by the request.

“Well, you certainly can’t fuck me in your clothes! That wouldn’t give us much of an idea what you can do, would it?”

He was about to protest that there must be another John Smith in the hotel but she had slipped off her top, releasing an absolutely beautiful pair of perky tits, and then started to wiggle out of her miniskirt and panties. No sane middle-aged man could miss an opportunity like this; she was 23 at the most and fucking gorgeous.

John ripped off his duds and flung them to the four corners of the room. As one would expect under the circumstances, his dick was hard and pointing right at her. She looked it over for a few moments and then asked if he’d mind if she measured it. He nodded and tried to smile but found his mouth had gone dry with the prospect of embedding it into her tiny tight quim.

She fumbled in her bag for a moment and produced a tape measure, then shoved the nib against his nut sack and very carefully strung it out. The mere touch of her fingers caused his legs to tremble and she noticed it, giving him a quizzical look.

She jotted the measurement down without telling him what it was and then realigned the camera so it pointed directly at the bed.

“Now, I do this all of the time,” she said when she seemed to have the camera angle just right, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to enjoy it, so I expect you to send me into a state of complete ecstasy. Can you do that?”

John nodded meekly and waited for further instructions.

“I’m going to lie on the bed with my legs open and I want you to start by licking my feet, work your way up between my legs, lick my pussy and move your tongue up to my tits. Then I want you to suck my nipples and poke your finger in my crack and move it around.”

By now the over-enthusiastic John couldn’t wait to get into action and she had to tell him to slow down and be gentle. Then he wanted to linger when he got to her shaved cunt but after a few licks she hurried him on to the next stage.

Her nipples were quite long and quite hard. He first licked them, cupping her tits with his hands, then started sucking hard, then dropped his hand down and searched with his finger until he found the entrance to her vajayjay. It felt wonderfully wet and warm; he moved his finger gently around, withdrew it, stroked it along the full length of her crack and then slipped it back in again.

She was loving every moment and was making noises like she’d never had it this good. John’s dick was rubbing up against the inside of her thigh as he worked his middle-aged magic; she arched her back and angled so that the head of it touched the lips of her cunt. He then took his dick in hand and rubbed it up and down her slit. She began to gasp for breath and it didn’t take long before her body started to shake, quite violently, “Holy fuck, I’m cumming,” she screamed, digging her long nails into his shoulders until they fetched blood.

Twiggy settled down in short order and slid beneath him so she could take his throbbing cock into her mouth. He let out a yell as she absorbed most of it and then she grabbed onto his balls, pulling and squeezed them. It was a little painful but with her soft lips sliding slowly up and down his shaft it didn’t seem to matter. John was dying to cum and prayed she’d let him come in her mouth; nobody had ever let him do that before.

Tightening her grip around the base of his dick, she quickened the pace until he could feel his hot sperm racing upwards, and although he gallantly warned when he was about to ejaculate she soldiered on and swallowed the lot. Even after pulling his dick out of her mouth she kept licking the dripping end, making sure all the while it was captured on camera.

John was breathing heavy and starting to perspire but Twiggy was not about to let him slack off.

“Lick me out and lick me out good,” she commanded, spreading her legs to give him easy access. With his face between her thighs, he separated the lips of her tight pussy with his fingers and then began to give her a thorough tongue lashing.

John had always prided himself on his eating-out ability, and he sailed his king-sized tongue up and down her crack until she cried out, “Oh my God, oh my God,” and then seemed to lose her mind as she had the biggest fucking orgasm she’d ever had.

Even though her body hadn’t finished shaking, she yelled for him to shove it in and fuck her. John knelt on the bed, drew her quivering quim towards him and rammed it in up to the hilt.

She was gulping for air and flailing her arms as he pulled on her thighs and impaled her. Sparks seemed to course throughout his body as he pounded her pussy. Her tits were bouncing every which way and she was biting hard on her lip as he made the last final thrusts. There seemed no end to his semen; as it kept flowing and flowing she gripped harder onto his ass, pulling him further and further into her.

But like all good things it had to come to an end and when at last it did, he gave a little wave to the camera.

“I’m sorry to tell you,” she said, slipping back into her clothes, “but this was all a joke.”

“A joke?”

“Yes, your fellow delegates chipped in a thousand dollars for me to do this so they can put it up on the screen at the banquet on Sunday night.”

“Holy shit! This is a new low even for them!”

“Well, to be fair I was only supposed to go as far measuring your dick and then say it was too small and pack up and leave.”

“So why didn’t you?” he asked, as he picked up his scattered clothing.

“I fancied you,” she smiled, “And I really enjoyed it, although Alan’s going to flip his nut when he sees the footage.”

“Alan Shanks, the Chairman’s son? Why would he object? He’s the biggest practical joker of them all.”

“Yes, but unfortunately he’s also my husband,” she said.
Having a common name like Smith can sometimes be a problem and when it’s John Smith even more so. The John Smith of our story had been hassled by debt collectors mistaking him for one of his namesakes and was once even picked up by the police as a suspect in a jewelry heist. However, those events were nothing compared to what happened to him when he attended his company’s annual sales seminar at a Los Angeles hotel.

It was always a rowdy, drunken affair and was never complete without the occasional fight and some property damage. This was his 10th seminar, and as he was not keen to continue making an ass of himself he retired straight to his room with no desire to come out except to attend the dinners and training sessions.

He’d just unpacked a few things and was switching on the TV when there came a knock on the door. Half expecting to find “the guys” down there urging him to come out and join the fun, he moved towards the door sighing and shaking his head. But standing there when he opened it was a beautiful young lady.

“Are you Mr. Smith… Mr. John Smith?” she inquired.

“Yes. That’s me.”

“Sorry I’m late but I had a problem finding somewhere to park,” she said, squeezing past him into the room and commencing to unpack and set up some camera equipment.

“My name’s Twiggy,” she said, looking up from her gear. “It’s rather opportune that you should phone for an audition as we’ve got some new projects coming up and we’re looking for good-looking mature men like you. I haven’t got a lot of time so if you could strip off right away, it would help me out.”

“Do you mean strip all my clothes off?” he asked, rather shocked by the request.

“Well, you certainly can’t fuck me in your clothes! That wouldn’t give us much of an idea what you can do, would it?”

He was about to protest that there must be another John Smith in the hotel but she had slipped off her top, releasing an absolutely beautiful pair of perky tits, and then started to wiggle out of her miniskirt and panties. No sane middle-aged man could miss an opportunity like this; she was 23 at the most and fucking gorgeous.

John ripped off his duds and flung them to the four corners of the room. As one would expect under the circumstances, his dick was hard and pointing right at her. She looked it over for a few moments and then asked if he’d mind if she measured it. He nodded and tried to smile but found his mouth had gone dry with the prospect of embedding it into her tiny tight quim.

She fumbled in her bag for a moment and produced a tape measure, then shoved the nib against his nut sack and very carefully strung it out. The mere touch of her fingers caused his legs to tremble and she noticed it, giving him a quizzical look.

She jotted the measurement down without telling him what it was and then realigned the camera so it pointed directly at the bed.

“Now, I do this all of the time,” she said when she seemed to have the camera angle just right, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to enjoy it, so I expect you to send me into a state of complete ecstasy. Can you do that?”

John nodded meekly and waited for further instructions.

“I’m going to lie on the bed with my legs open and I want you to start by licking my feet, work your way up between my legs, lick my pussy and move your tongue up to my tits. Then I want you to suck my nipples and poke your finger in my crack and move it around.”

By now the over-enthusiastic John couldn’t wait to get into action and she had to tell him to slow down and be gentle. Then he wanted to linger when he got to her shaved cunt but after a few licks she hurried him on to the next stage.

Her nipples were quite long and quite hard. He first licked them, cupping her tits with his hands, then started sucking hard, then dropped his hand down and searched with his finger until he found the entrance to her vajayjay. It felt wonderfully wet and warm; he moved his finger gently around, withdrew it, stroked it along the full length of her crack and then slipped it back in again.

She was loving every moment and was making noises like she’d never had it this good. John’s dick was rubbing up against the inside of her thigh as he worked his middle-aged magic; she arched her back and angled so that the head of it touched the lips of her cunt. He then took his dick in hand and rubbed it up and down her slit. She began to gasp for breath and it didn’t take long before her body started to shake, quite violently, “Holy fuck, I’m cumming,” she screamed, digging her long nails into his shoulders until they fetched blood.

Twiggy settled down in short order and slid beneath him so she could take his throbbing cock into her mouth. He let out a yell as she absorbed most of it and then she grabbed onto his balls, pulling and squeezed them. It was a little painful but with her soft lips sliding slowly up and down his shaft it didn’t seem to matter. John was dying to cum and prayed she’d let him come in her mouth; nobody had ever let him do that before.

Tightening her grip around the base of his dick, she quickened the pace until he could feel his hot sperm racing upwards, and although he gallantly warned when he was about to ejaculate she soldiered on and swallowed the lot. Even after pulling his dick out of her mouth she kept licking the dripping end, making sure all the while it was captured on camera.

John was breathing heavy and starting to perspire but Twiggy was not about to let him slack off.

“Lick me out and lick me out good,” she commanded, spreading her legs to give him easy access. With his face between her thighs, he separated the lips of her tight pussy with his fingers and then began to give her a thorough tongue lashing.

John had always prided himself on his eating-out ability, and he sailed his king-sized tongue up and down her crack until she cried out, “Oh my God, oh my God,” and then seemed to lose her mind as she had the biggest fucking orgasm she’d ever had.

Even though her body hadn’t finished shaking, she yelled for him to shove it in and fuck her. John knelt on the bed, drew her quivering quim towards him and rammed it in up to the hilt.

She was gulping for air and flailing her arms as he pulled on her thighs and impaled her. Sparks seemed to course throughout his body as he pounded her pussy. Her tits were bouncing every which way and she was biting hard on her lip as he made the last final thrusts. There seemed no end to his semen; as it kept flowing and flowing she gripped harder onto his ass, pulling him further and further into her.

But like all good things it had to come to an end and when at last it did, he gave a little wave to the camera.

“I’m sorry to tell you,” she said, slipping back into her clothes, “but this was all a joke.”

“A joke?”

“Yes, your fellow delegates chipped in a thousand dollars for me to do this so they can put it up on the screen at the banquet on Sunday night.”

“Holy shit! This is a new low even for them!”

“Well, to be fair I was only supposed to go as far measuring your dick and then say it was too small and pack up and leave.”

“So why didn’t you?” he asked, as he picked up his scattered clothing.

“I fancied you,” she smiled, “And I really enjoyed it, although Alan’s going to flip his nut when he sees the footage.”

“Alan Shanks, the Chairman’s son? Why would he object? He’s the biggest practical joker of them all.”

“Yes, but unfortunately he’s also my husband,” she said.
Having a common name like Smith can sometimes be a problem and when it’s John Smith even more so. The John Smith of our story had been hassled by debt collectors mistaking him for one of his namesakes and was once even picked up by the police as a suspect in a jewelry heist. However, those events were nothing compared to what happened to him when he attended his company’s annual sales seminar at a Los Angeles hotel.

It was always a rowdy, drunken affair and was never complete without the occasional fight and some property damage. This was his 10th seminar, and as he was not keen to continue making an ass of himself he retired straight to his room with no desire to come out except to attend the dinners and training sessions.

He’d just unpacked a few things and was switching on the TV when there came a knock on the door. Half expecting to find “the guys” down there urging him to come out and join the fun, he moved towards the door sighing and shaking his head. But standing there when he opened it was a beautiful young lady.

“Are you Mr. Smith… Mr. John Smith?” she inquired.

“Yes. That’s me.”

“Sorry I’m late but I had a problem finding somewhere to park,” she said, squeezing past him into the room and commencing to unpack and set up some camera equipment.

“My name’s Twiggy,” she said, looking up from her gear. “It’s rather opportune that you should phone for an audition as we’ve got some new projects coming up and we’re looking for good-looking mature men like you. I haven’t got a lot of time so if you could strip off right away, it would help me out.”

“Do you mean strip all my clothes off?” he asked, rather shocked by the request.

“Well, you certainly can’t fuck me in your clothes! That wouldn’t give us much of an idea what you can do, would it?”

He was about to protest that there must be another John Smith in the hotel but she had slipped off her top, releasing an absolutely beautiful pair of perky tits, and then started to wiggle out of her miniskirt and panties. No sane middle-aged man could miss an opportunity like this; she was 23 at the most and fucking gorgeous.

John ripped off his duds and flung them to the four corners of the room. As one would expect under the circumstances, his dick was hard and pointing right at her. She looked it over for a few moments and then asked if he’d mind if she measured it. He nodded and tried to smile but found his mouth had gone dry with the prospect of embedding it into her tiny tight quim.

She fumbled in her bag for a moment and produced a tape measure, then shoved the nib against his nut sack and very carefully strung it out. The mere touch of her fingers caused his legs to tremble and she noticed it, giving him a quizzical look.

She jotted the measurement down without telling him what it was and then realigned the camera so it pointed directly at the bed.

“Now, I do this all of the time,” she said when she seemed to have the camera angle just right, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to enjoy it, so I expect you to send me into a state of complete ecstasy. Can you do that?”

John nodded meekly and waited for further instructions.

“I’m going to lie on the bed with my legs open and I want you to start by licking my feet, work your way up between my legs, lick my pussy and move your tongue up to my tits. Then I want you to suck my nipples and poke your finger in my crack and move it around.”

By now the over-enthusiastic John couldn’t wait to get into action and she had to tell him to slow down and be gentle. Then he wanted to linger when he got to her shaved cunt but after a few licks she hurried him on to the next stage.

Her nipples were quite long and quite hard. He first licked them, cupping her tits with his hands, then started sucking hard, then dropped his hand down and searched with his finger until he found the entrance to her vajayjay. It felt wonderfully wet and warm; he moved his finger gently around, withdrew it, stroked it along the full length of her crack and then slipped it back in again.

She was loving every moment and was making noises like she’d never had it this good. John’s dick was rubbing up against the inside of her thigh as he worked his middle-aged magic; she arched her back and angled so that the head of it touched the lips of her cunt. He then took his dick in hand and rubbed it up and down her slit. She began to gasp for breath and it didn’t take long before her body started to shake, quite violently, “Holy fuck, I’m cumming,” she screamed, digging her long nails into his shoulders until they fetched blood.

Twiggy settled down in short order and slid beneath him so she could take his throbbing cock into her mouth. He let out a yell as she absorbed most of it and then she grabbed onto his balls, pulling and squeezed them. It was a little painful but with her soft lips sliding slowly up and down his shaft it didn’t seem to matter. John was dying to cum and prayed she’d let him come in her mouth; nobody had ever let him do that before.

Tightening her grip around the base of his dick, she quickened the pace until he could feel his hot sperm racing upwards, and although he gallantly warned when he was about to ejaculate she soldiered on and swallowed the lot. Even after pulling his dick out of her mouth she kept licking the dripping end, making sure all the while it was captured on camera.

John was breathing heavy and starting to perspire but Twiggy was not about to let him slack off.

“Lick me out and lick me out good,” she commanded, spreading her legs to give him easy access. With his face between her thighs, he separated the lips of her tight pussy with his fingers and then began to give her a thorough tongue lashing.

John had always prided himself on his eating-out ability, and he sailed his king-sized tongue up and down her crack until she cried out, “Oh my God, oh my God,” and then seemed to lose her mind as she had the biggest fucking orgasm she’d ever had.

Even though her body hadn’t finished shaking, she yelled for him to shove it in and fuck her. John knelt on the bed, drew her quivering quim towards him and rammed it in up to the hilt.

She was gulping for air and flailing her arms as he pulled on her thighs and impaled her. Sparks seemed to course throughout his body as he pounded her pussy. Her tits were bouncing every which way and she was biting hard on her lip as he made the last final thrusts. There seemed no end to his semen; as it kept flowing and flowing she gripped harder onto his ass, pulling him further and further into her.

But like all good things it had to come to an end and when at last it did, he gave a little wave to the camera.

“I’m sorry to tell you,” she said, slipping back into her clothes, “but this was all a joke.”

“A joke?”

“Yes, your fellow delegates chipped in a thousand dollars for me to do this so they can put it up on the screen at the banquet on Sunday night.”

“Holy shit! This is a new low even for them!”

“Well, to be fair I was only supposed to go as far measuring your dick and then say it was too small and pack up and leave.”

“So why didn’t you?” he asked, as he picked up his scattered clothing.

“I fancied you,” she smiled, “And I really enjoyed it, although Alan’s going to flip his nut when he sees the footage.”

“Alan Shanks, the Chairman’s son? Why would he object? He’s the biggest practical joker of them all.”

“Yes, but unfortunately he’s also my husband,” she said.
Having a common name like Smith can sometimes be a problem and when it’s John Smith even more so. The John Smith of our story had been hassled by debt collectors mistaking him for one of his namesakes and was once even picked up by the police as a suspect in a jewelry heist. However, those events were nothing compared to what happened to him when he attended his company’s annual sales seminar at a Los Angeles hotel.

It was always a rowdy, drunken affair and was never complete without the occasional fight and some property damage. This was his 10th seminar, and as he was not keen to continue making an ass of himself he retired straight to his room with no desire to come out except to attend the dinners and training sessions.

He’d just unpacked a few things and was switching on the TV when there came a knock on the door. Half expecting to find “the guys” down there urging him to come out and join the fun, he moved towards the door sighing and shaking his head. But standing there when he opened it was a beautiful young lady.

“Are you Mr. Smith… Mr. John Smith?” she inquired.

“Yes. That’s me.”

“Sorry I’m late but I had a problem finding somewhere to park,” she said, squeezing past him into the room and commencing to unpack and set up some camera equipment.

“My name’s Twiggy,” she said, looking up from her gear. “It’s rather opportune that you should phone for an audition as we’ve got some new projects coming up and we’re looking for good-looking mature men like you. I haven’t got a lot of time so if you could strip off right away, it would help me out.”

“Do you mean strip all my clothes off?” he asked, rather shocked by the request.

“Well, you certainly can’t fuck me in your clothes! That wouldn’t give us much of an idea what you can do, would it?”

He was about to protest that there must be another John Smith in the hotel but she had slipped off her top, releasing an absolutely beautiful pair of perky tits, and then started to wiggle out of her miniskirt and panties. No sane middle-aged man could miss an opportunity like this; she was 23 at the most and fucking gorgeous.

John ripped off his duds and flung them to the four corners of the room. As one would expect under the circumstances, his dick was hard and pointing right at her. She looked it over for a few moments and then asked if he’d mind if she measured it. He nodded and tried to smile but found his mouth had gone dry with the prospect of embedding it into her tiny tight quim.

She fumbled in her bag for a moment and produced a tape measure, then shoved the nib against his nut sack and very carefully strung it out. The mere touch of her fingers caused his legs to tremble and she noticed it, giving him a quizzical look.

She jotted the measurement down without telling him what it was and then realigned the camera so it pointed directly at the bed.

“Now, I do this all of the time,” she said when she seemed to have the camera angle just right, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to enjoy it, so I expect you to send me into a state of complete ecstasy. Can you do that?”

John nodded meekly and waited for further instructions.

“I’m going to lie on the bed with my legs open and I want you to start by licking my feet, work your way up between my legs, lick my pussy and move your tongue up to my tits. Then I want you to suck my nipples and poke your finger in my crack and move it around.”

By now the over-enthusiastic John couldn’t wait to get into action and she had to tell him to slow down and be gentle. Then he wanted to linger when he got to her shaved cunt but after a few licks she hurried him on to the next stage.

Her nipples were quite long and quite hard. He first licked them, cupping her tits with his hands, then started sucking hard, then dropped his hand down and searched with his finger until he found the entrance to her vajayjay. It felt wonderfully wet and warm; he moved his finger gently around, withdrew it, stroked it along the full length of her crack and then slipped it back in again.

She was loving every moment and was making noises like she’d never had it this good. John’s dick was rubbing up against the inside of her thigh as he worked his middle-aged magic; she arched her back and angled so that the head of it touched the lips of her cunt. He then took his dick in hand and rubbed it up and down her slit. She began to gasp for breath and it didn’t take long before her body started to shake, quite violently, “Holy fuck, I’m cumming,” she screamed, digging her long nails into his shoulders until they fetched blood.

Twiggy settled down in short order and slid beneath him so she could take his throbbing cock into her mouth. He let out a yell as she absorbed most of it and then she grabbed onto his balls, pulling and squeezed them. It was a little painful but with her soft lips sliding slowly up and down his shaft it didn’t seem to matter. John was dying to cum and prayed she’d let him come in her mouth; nobody had ever let him do that before.

Tightening her grip around the base of his dick, she quickened the pace until he could feel his hot sperm racing upwards, and although he gallantly warned when he was about to ejaculate she soldiered on and swallowed the lot. Even after pulling his dick out of her mouth she kept licking the dripping end, making sure all the while it was captured on camera.

John was breathing heavy and starting to perspire but Twiggy was not about to let him slack off.

“Lick me out and lick me out good,” she commanded, spreading her legs to give him easy access. With his face between her thighs, he separated the lips of her tight pussy with his fingers and then began to give her a thorough tongue lashing.

John had always prided himself on his eating-out ability, and he sailed his king-sized tongue up and down her crack until she cried out, “Oh my God, oh my God,” and then seemed to lose her mind as she had the biggest fucking orgasm she’d ever had.

Even though her body hadn’t finished shaking, she yelled for him to shove it in and fuck her. John knelt on the bed, drew her quivering quim towards him and rammed it in up to the hilt.

She was gulping for air and flailing her arms as he pulled on her thighs and impaled her. Sparks seemed to course throughout his body as he pounded her pussy. Her tits were bouncing every which way and she was biting hard on her lip as he made the last final thrusts. There seemed no end to his semen; as it kept flowing and flowing she gripped harder onto his ass, pulling him further and further into her.

But like all good things it had to come to an end and when at last it did, he gave a little wave to the camera.

“I’m sorry to tell you,” she said, slipping back into her clothes, “but this was all a joke.”

“A joke?”

“Yes, your fellow delegates chipped in a thousand dollars for me to do this so they can put it up on the screen at the banquet on Sunday night.”

“Holy shit! This is a new low even for them!”

“Well, to be fair I was only supposed to go as far measuring your dick and then say it was too small and pack up and leave.”

“So why didn’t you?” he asked, as he picked up his scattered clothing.

“I fancied you,” she smiled, “And I really enjoyed it, although Alan’s going to flip his nut when he sees the footage.”

“Alan Shanks, the Chairman’s son? Why would he object? He’s the biggest practical joker of them all.”

“Yes, but unfortunately he’s also my husband,” she said.
Having a common name like Smith can sometimes be a problem and when it’s John Smith even more so. The John Smith of our story had been hassled by debt collectors mistaking him for one of his namesakes and was once even picked up by the police as a suspect in a jewelry heist. However, those events were nothing compared to what happened to him when he attended his company’s annual sales seminar at a Los Angeles hotel.

It was always a rowdy, drunken affair and was never complete without the occasional fight and some property damage. This was his 10th seminar, and as he was not keen to continue making an ass of himself he retired straight to his room with no desire to come out except to attend the dinners and training sessions.

He’d just unpacked a few things and was switching on the TV when there came a knock on the door. Half expecting to find “the guys” down there urging him to come out and join the fun, he moved towards the door sighing and shaking his head. But standing there when he opened it was a beautiful young lady.

“Are you Mr. Smith… Mr. John Smith?” she inquired.

“Yes. That’s me.”

“Sorry I’m late but I had a problem finding somewhere to park,” she said, squeezing past him into the room and commencing to unpack and set up some camera equipment.

“My name’s Twiggy,” she said, looking up from her gear. “It’s rather opportune that you should phone for an audition as we’ve got some new projects coming up and we’re looking for good-looking mature men like you. I haven’t got a lot of time so if you could strip off right away, it would help me out.”

“Do you mean strip all my clothes off?” he asked, rather shocked by the request.

“Well, you certainly can’t fuck me in your clothes! That wouldn’t give us much of an idea what you can do, would it?”

He was about to protest that there must be another John Smith in the hotel but she had slipped off her top, releasing an absolutely beautiful pair of perky tits, and then started to wiggle out of her miniskirt and panties. No sane middle-aged man could miss an opportunity like this; she was 23 at the most and fucking gorgeous.

John ripped off his duds and flung them to the four corners of the room. As one would expect under the circumstances, his dick was hard and pointing right at her. She looked it over for a few moments and then asked if he’d mind if she measured it. He nodded and tried to smile but found his mouth had gone dry with the prospect of embedding it into her tiny tight quim.

She fumbled in her bag for a moment and produced a tape measure, then shoved the nib against his nut sack and very carefully strung it out. The mere touch of her fingers caused his legs to tremble and she noticed it, giving him a quizzical look.

She jotted the measurement down without telling him what it was and then realigned the camera so it pointed directly at the bed.

“Now, I do this all of the time,” she said when she seemed to have the camera angle just right, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to enjoy it, so I expect you to send me into a state of complete ecstasy. Can you do that?”

John nodded meekly and waited for further instructions.

“I’m going to lie on the bed with my legs open and I want you to start by licking my feet, work your way up between my legs, lick my pussy and move your tongue up to my tits. Then I want you to suck my nipples and poke your finger in my crack and move it around.”

By now the over-enthusiastic John couldn’t wait to get into action and she had to tell him to slow down and be gentle. Then he wanted to linger when he got to her shaved cunt but after a few licks she hurried him on to the next stage.

Her nipples were quite long and quite hard. He first licked them, cupping her tits with his hands, then started sucking hard, then dropped his hand down and searched with his finger until he found the entrance to her vajayjay. It felt wonderfully wet and warm; he moved his finger gently around, withdrew it, stroked it along the full length of her crack and then slipped it back in again.

She was loving every moment and was making noises like she’d never had it this good. John’s dick was rubbing up against the inside of her thigh as he worked his middle-aged magic; she arched her back and angled so that the head of it touched the lips of her cunt. He then took his dick in hand and rubbed it up and down her slit. She began to gasp for breath and it didn’t take long before her body started to shake, quite violently, “Holy fuck, I’m cumming,” she screamed, digging her long nails into his shoulders until they fetched blood.

Twiggy settled down in short order and slid beneath him so she could take his throbbing cock into her mouth. He let out a yell as she absorbed most of it and then she grabbed onto his balls, pulling and squeezed them. It was a little painful but with her soft lips sliding slowly up and down his shaft it didn’t seem to matter. John was dying to cum and prayed she’d let him come in her mouth; nobody had ever let him do that before.

Tightening her grip around the base of his dick, she quickened the pace until he could feel his hot sperm racing upwards, and although he gallantly warned when he was about to ejaculate she soldiered on and swallowed the lot. Even after pulling his dick out of her mouth she kept licking the dripping end, making sure all the while it was captured on camera.

John was breathing heavy and starting to perspire but Twiggy was not about to let him slack off.

“Lick me out and lick me out good,” she commanded, spreading her legs to give him easy access. With his face between her thighs, he separated the lips of her tight pussy with his fingers and then began to give her a thorough tongue lashing.

John had always prided himself on his eating-out ability, and he sailed his king-sized tongue up and down her crack until she cried out, “Oh my God, oh my God,” and then seemed to lose her mind as she had the biggest fucking orgasm she’d ever had.

Even though her body hadn’t finished shaking, she yelled for him to shove it in and fuck her. John knelt on the bed, drew her quivering quim towards him and rammed it in up to the hilt.

She was gulping for air and flailing her arms as he pulled on her thighs and impaled her. Sparks seemed to course throughout his body as he pounded her pussy. Her tits were bouncing every which way and she was biting hard on her lip as he made the last final thrusts. There seemed no end to his semen; as it kept flowing and flowing she gripped harder onto his ass, pulling him further and further into her.

But like all good things it had to come to an end and when at last it did, he gave a little wave to the camera.

“I’m sorry to tell you,” she said, slipping back into her clothes, “but this was all a joke.”

“A joke?”

“Yes, your fellow delegates chipped in a thousand dollars for me to do this so they can put it up on the screen at the banquet on Sunday night.”

“Holy shit! This is a new low even for them!”

“Well, to be fair I was only supposed to go as far measuring your dick and then say it was too small and pack up and leave.”

“So why didn’t you?” he asked, as he picked up his scattered clothing.

“I fancied you,” she smiled, “And I really enjoyed it, although Alan’s going to flip his nut when he sees the footage.”

“Alan Shanks, the Chairman’s son? Why would he object? He’s the biggest practical joker of them all.”

“Yes, but unfortunately he’s also my husband,” she said.
Having a common name like Smith can sometimes be a problem and when it’s John Smith even more so. The John Smith of our story had been hassled by debt collectors mistaking him for one of his namesakes and was once even picked up by the police as a suspect in a jewelry heist. However, those events were nothing compared to what happened to him when he attended his company’s annual sales seminar at a Los Angeles hotel.

It was always a rowdy, drunken affair and was never complete without the occasional fight and some property damage. This was his 10th seminar, and as he was not keen to continue making an ass of himself he retired straight to his room with no desire to come out except to attend the dinners and training sessions.

He’d just unpacked a few things and was switching on the TV when there came a knock on the door. Half expecting to find “the guys” down there urging him to come out and join the fun, he moved towards the door sighing and shaking his head. But standing there when he opened it was a beautiful young lady.

“Are you Mr. Smith… Mr. John Smith?” she inquired.

“Yes. That’s me.”

“Sorry I’m late but I had a problem finding somewhere to park,” she said, squeezing past him into the room and commencing to unpack and set up some camera equipment.

“My name’s Twiggy,” she said, looking up from her gear. “It’s rather opportune that you should phone for an audition as we’ve got some new projects coming up and we’re looking for good-looking mature men like you. I haven’t got a lot of time so if you could strip off right away, it would help me out.”

“Do you mean strip all my clothes off?” he asked, rather shocked by the request.

“Well, you certainly can’t fuck me in your clothes! That wouldn’t give us much of an idea what you can do, would it?”

He was about to protest that there must be another John Smith in the hotel but she had slipped off her top, releasing an absolutely beautiful pair of perky tits, and then started to wiggle out of her miniskirt and panties. No sane middle-aged man could miss an opportunity like this; she was 23 at the most and fucking gorgeous.

John ripped off his duds and flung them to the four corners of the room. As one would expect under the circumstances, his dick was hard and pointing right at her. She looked it over for a few moments and then asked if he’d mind if she measured it. He nodded and tried to smile but found his mouth had gone dry with the prospect of embedding it into her tiny tight quim.

She fumbled in her bag for a moment and produced a tape measure, then shoved the nib against his nut sack and very carefully strung it out. The mere touch of her fingers caused his legs to tremble and she noticed it, giving him a quizzical look.

She jotted the measurement down without telling him what it was and then realigned the camera so it pointed directly at the bed.

“Now, I do this all of the time,” she said when she seemed to have the camera angle just right, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to enjoy it, so I expect you to send me into a state of complete ecstasy. Can you do that?”

John nodded meekly and waited for further instructions.

“I’m going to lie on the bed with my legs open and I want you to start by licking my feet, work your way up between my legs, lick my pussy and move your tongue up to my tits. Then I want you to suck my nipples and poke your finger in my crack and move it around.”

By now the over-enthusiastic John couldn’t wait to get into action and she had to tell him to slow down and be gentle. Then he wanted to linger when he got to her shaved cunt but after a few licks she hurried him on to the next stage.

Her nipples were quite long and quite hard. He first licked them, cupping her tits with his hands, then started sucking hard, then dropped his hand down and searched with his finger until he found the entrance to her vajayjay. It felt wonderfully wet and warm; he moved his finger gently around, withdrew it, stroked it along the full length of her crack and then slipped it back in again.

She was loving every moment and was making noises like she’d never had it this good. John’s dick was rubbing up against the inside of her thigh as he worked his middle-aged magic; she arched her back and angled so that the head of it touched the lips of her cunt. He then took his dick in hand and rubbed it up and down her slit. She began to gasp for breath and it didn’t take long before her body started to shake, quite violently, “Holy fuck, I’m cumming,” she screamed, digging her long nails into his shoulders until they fetched blood.

Twiggy settled down in short order and slid beneath him so she could take his throbbing cock into her mouth. He let out a yell as she absorbed most of it and then she grabbed onto his balls, pulling and squeezed them. It was a little painful but with her soft lips sliding slowly up and down his shaft it didn’t seem to matter. John was dying to cum and prayed she’d let him come in her mouth; nobody had ever let him do that before.

Tightening her grip around the base of his dick, she quickened the pace until he could feel his hot sperm racing upwards, and although he gallantly warned when he was about to ejaculate she soldiered on and swallowed the lot. Even after pulling his dick out of her mouth she kept licking the dripping end, making sure all the while it was captured on camera.

John was breathing heavy and starting to perspire but Twiggy was not about to let him slack off.

“Lick me out and lick me out good,” she commanded, spreading her legs to give him easy access. With his face between her thighs, he separated the lips of her tight pussy with his fingers and then began to give her a thorough tongue lashing.

John had always prided himself on his eating-out ability, and he sailed his king-sized tongue up and down her crack until she cried out, “Oh my God, oh my God,” and then seemed to lose her mind as she had the biggest fucking orgasm she’d ever had.

Even though her body hadn’t finished shaking, she yelled for him to shove it in and fuck her. John knelt on the bed, drew her quivering quim towards him and rammed it in up to the hilt.

She was gulping for air and flailing her arms as he pulled on her thighs and impaled her. Sparks seemed to course throughout his body as he pounded her pussy. Her tits were bouncing every which way and she was biting hard on her lip as he made the last final thrusts. There seemed no end to his semen; as it kept flowing and flowing she gripped harder onto his ass, pulling him further and further into her.

But like all good things it had to come to an end and when at last it did, he gave a little wave to the camera.

“I’m sorry to tell you,” she said, slipping back into her clothes, “but this was all a joke.”

“A joke?”

“Yes, your fellow delegates chipped in a thousand dollars for me to do this so they can put it up on the screen at the banquet on Sunday night.”

“Holy shit! This is a new low even for them!”

“Well, to be fair I was only supposed to go as far measuring your dick and then say it was too small and pack up and leave.”

“So why didn’t you?” he asked, as he picked up his scattered clothing.

“I fancied you,” she smiled, “And I really enjoyed it, although Alan’s going to flip his nut when he sees the footage.”

“Alan Shanks, the Chairman’s son? Why would he object? He’s the biggest practical joker of them all.”

“Yes, but unfortunately he’s also my husband,” she said.
Having a common name like Smith can sometimes be a problem and when it’s John Smith even more so. The John Smith of our story had been hassled by debt collectors mistaking him for one of his namesakes and was once even picked up by the police as a suspect in a jewelry heist. However, those events were nothing compared to what happened to him when he attended his company’s annual sales seminar at a Los Angeles hotel.

It was always a rowdy, drunken affair and was never complete without the occasional fight and some property damage. This was his 10th seminar, and as he was not keen to continue making an ass of himself he retired straight to his room with no desire to come out except to attend the dinners and training sessions.

He’d just unpacked a few things and was switching on the TV when there came a knock on the door. Half expecting to find “the guys” down there urging him to come out and join the fun, he moved towards the door sighing and shaking his head. But standing there when he opened it was a beautiful young lady.

“Are you Mr. Smith… Mr. John Smith?” she inquired.

“Yes. That’s me.”

“Sorry I’m late but I had a problem finding somewhere to park,” she said, squeezing past him into the room and commencing to unpack and set up some camera equipment.

“My name’s Twiggy,” she said, looking up from her gear. “It’s rather opportune that you should phone for an audition as we’ve got some new projects coming up and we’re looking for good-looking mature men like you. I haven’t got a lot of time so if you could strip off right away, it would help me out.”

“Do you mean strip all my clothes off?” he asked, rather shocked by the request.

“Well, you certainly can’t fuck me in your clothes! That wouldn’t give us much of an idea what you can do, would it?”

He was about to protest that there must be another John Smith in the hotel but she had slipped off her top, releasing an absolutely beautiful pair of perky tits, and then started to wiggle out of her miniskirt and panties. No sane middle-aged man could miss an opportunity like this; she was 23 at the most and fucking gorgeous.

John ripped off his duds and flung them to the four corners of the room. As one would expect under the circumstances, his dick was hard and pointing right at her. She looked it over for a few moments and then asked if he’d mind if she measured it. He nodded and tried to smile but found his mouth had gone dry with the prospect of embedding it into her tiny tight quim.

She fumbled in her bag for a moment and produced a tape measure, then shoved the nib against his nut sack and very carefully strung it out. The mere touch of her fingers caused his legs to tremble and she noticed it, giving him a quizzical look.

She jotted the measurement down without telling him what it was and then realigned the camera so it pointed directly at the bed.

“Now, I do this all of the time,” she said when she seemed to have the camera angle just right, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to enjoy it, so I expect you to send me into a state of complete ecstasy. Can you do that?”

John nodded meekly and waited for further instructions.

“I’m going to lie on the bed with my legs open and I want you to start by licking my feet, work your way up between my legs, lick my pussy and move your tongue up to my tits. Then I want you to suck my nipples and poke your finger in my crack and move it around.”

By now the over-enthusiastic John couldn’t wait to get into action and she had to tell him to slow down and be gentle. Then he wanted to linger when he got to her shaved cunt but after a few licks she hurried him on to the next stage.

Her nipples were quite long and quite hard. He first licked them, cupping her tits with his hands, then started sucking hard, then dropped his hand down and searched with his finger until he found the entrance to her vajayjay. It felt wonderfully wet and warm; he moved his finger gently around, withdrew it, stroked it along the full length of her crack and then slipped it back in again.

She was loving every moment and was making noises like she’d never had it this good. John’s dick was rubbing up against the inside of her thigh as he worked his middle-aged magic; she arched her back and angled so that the head of it touched the lips of her cunt. He then took his dick in hand and rubbed it up and down her slit. She began to gasp for breath and it didn’t take long before her body started to shake, quite violently, “Holy fuck, I’m cumming,” she screamed, digging her long nails into his shoulders until they fetched blood.

Twiggy settled down in short order and slid beneath him so she could take his throbbing cock into her mouth. He let out a yell as she absorbed most of it and then she grabbed onto his balls, pulling and squeezed them. It was a little painful but with her soft lips sliding slowly up and down his shaft it didn’t seem to matter. John was dying to cum and prayed she’d let him come in her mouth; nobody had ever let him do that before.

Tightening her grip around the base of his dick, she quickened the pace until he could feel his hot sperm racing upwards, and although he gallantly warned when he was about to ejaculate she soldiered on and swallowed the lot. Even after pulling his dick out of her mouth she kept licking the dripping end, making sure all the while it was captured on camera.

John was breathing heavy and starting to perspire but Twiggy was not about to let him slack off.

“Lick me out and lick me out good,” she commanded, spreading her legs to give him easy access. With his face between her thighs, he separated the lips of her tight pussy with his fingers and then began to give her a thorough tongue lashing.

John had always prided himself on his eating-out ability, and he sailed his king-sized tongue up and down her crack until she cried out, “Oh my God, oh my God,” and then seemed to lose her mind as she had the biggest fucking orgasm she’d ever had.

Even though her body hadn’t finished shaking, she yelled for him to shove it in and fuck her. John knelt on the bed, drew her quivering quim towards him and rammed it in up to the hilt.

She was gulping for air and flailing her arms as he pulled on her thighs and impaled her. Sparks seemed to course throughout his body as he pounded her pussy. Her tits were bouncing every which way and she was biting hard on her lip as he made the last final thrusts. There seemed no end to his semen; as it kept flowing and flowing she gripped harder onto his ass, pulling him further and further into her.

But like all good things it had to come to an end and when at last it did, he gave a little wave to the camera.

“I’m sorry to tell you,” she said, slipping back into her clothes, “but this was all a joke.”

“A joke?”

“Yes, your fellow delegates chipped in a thousand dollars for me to do this so they can put it up on the screen at the banquet on Sunday night.”

“Holy shit! This is a new low even for them!”

“Well, to be fair I was only supposed to go as far measuring your dick and then say it was too small and pack up and leave.”

“So why didn’t you?” he asked, as he picked up his scattered clothing.

“I fancied you,” she smiled, “And I really enjoyed it, although Alan’s going to flip his nut when he sees the footage.”

“Alan Shanks, the Chairman’s son? Why would he object? He’s the biggest practical joker of them all.”

“Yes, but unfortunately he’s also my husband,” she said.
Having a common name like Smith can sometimes be a problem and when it’s John Smith even more so. The John Smith of our story had been hassled by debt collectors mistaking him for one of his namesakes and was once even picked up by the police as a suspect in a jewelry heist. However, those events were nothing compared to what happened to him when he attended his company’s annual sales seminar at a Los Angeles hotel.

It was always a rowdy, drunken affair and was never complete without the occasional fight and some property damage. This was his 10th seminar, and as he was not keen to continue making an ass of himself he re

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
##############################################

Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart began to race, “I think there are all kinds of possibilities there,” he mused, having a job to sit straight with his dick pressing against his pants.

“Of course we’ve never tried it,” Marie said, “We’ve not really found the right man to try it with, most of the men here have a job getting in and out of their chairs.”

“I’m always available to further the cause of higher education,” he smiled, now having to stand to relieve the pressure on his boner.
“Maybe we should all take our clothes off and try a few moves – maybe we can prove whether it offers improved health benefits,” she grinned.

The women were only wearing tank tops and sweatpants and they slipped out of them while Eddie was still trying to get his shoes off. Impatient to get things moving the two women soon started to assist him to remove his clothes and both stood back when he, completely naked, showed off his rather long stiff cock.

“I like your equipment, said Kelly, “And I don’t mean the stuff in your catalog.”

Marie laughed and asked if he guaranteed satisfaction.

Eddie was beginning to think he was the luckiest guy alive as the two women started to move their hands all over his body as if he was a god or something. It was Marie who first ran her fingers through his pubic hair and stopped with a smile when she grasped his dick. However, before things went any further Kelly suggested that they all took a shower.

“If we’re all going to start to lick each other’s bodies,” she said, “We should make sure they’re clean.”

He was in total agreement and Kelly led the way to the showers and they all shared a cabinet. They ended up like a group of big kids, throwing lather around and occasionally groping each other.

Eddie couldn’t wait to get hold of Marie’s tits and as an excuse, he washed them thoroughly for her. She leaned back on the tiled wall as he circled them with his strong hands rubbing her nipples with his palms. Then Kelly not wanting to be cut out of the fun came up behind and put her arms around him pressing her tits against his back.

Marie seemed to be getting very excited as the palming of her tits continued and she suddenly turned, put her hands against the wall and stuck out her bum inviting him to stick his throbbing red shaft up her ass. As he did so Kelly slipped her hands between his legs and gently lathered his balls.

While he pounded Marie’s ass he slipped his arms around her and grabbed hold of her tits, massaging them in time with his powerful thrusts. It wasn’t long before she screamed out,

“I’m cumming – I’m cumming,” and for some reason, Kelly got all excited and started to finger his balls with increased enthusiasm. When he shot his load he let out a few Bull Moose mating calls, ramming it into her cunt repeatedly with considerable force. As soon as he withdrew it Kelly was down on her knees sucking it for all it was worth.

Marie, still trembling from her orgasm, came up from behind and started to gently pull back on his ball bag. His foreskin was back as far as it would go and Kelly was plunging it in and out of her mouth as if she was determined for him to cum again. It didn’t take long and then both of the women knelt down and licked the dripping end together.

Eddie didn’t want to admit it but he was feeling exhausted and his legs had gone jelly-like. However, the women were only just starting. Soon they were towing him out to the gym and they actually physically lifted him on to the padded top of a vaulting table. As he lay there not knowing what to expect next Kelly used the springboard to leap on the top of him. Fortunately, she managed to land straddling his legs and not on the family jewels.

She lowered herself onto his resurrected projectile just as if she was doing an Olympic event and then started to swing her legs to and fro. It was a strange feeling as he was way deep inside of her and as she made the movements, the muscles inside her moist groove were contracting and creating sort of a sucking motion on his dick. With his head almost hanging over the table Marie came around and started to insert her tongue into his mouth and then she pulled herself gracefully above his face with her legs spread apart. She lowered herself onto his moist lips so that he could munch on her quivering quim and he ate her out with relish.

All three were groaning and moaning and Eddie balls were feeling tight and intense. He thought he was going to cum any minute but Kelly and Marie jumped off of the table together and both grabbed his arms and lead him over to the parallel bars. It was almost like a rehearsed routine.

The poor guy was a little frustrated because his balls were aching like hell as he was anxious to shoot yet another big blob of cum. However, the girls wanted to make the whole thing last and to try as much as the equipment as possible.

Marie launched herself onto the parallel bars in such a way that her pink tacho was in a direct line with his dick. Kelly took over the role of coach and directed him from the side. Responding to her commands he held onto the bars and swung into Marie’s waiting cunt. It felt great and he took several swings, once again expecting to shoot his load but the girls had one more piece of equipment to try.

They literally carried Eddie over the gym and dumped onto the trampoline. Kelly climbed on top of him and lowered herself once more onto his dick. He sank it in her hot wet crack all the way up to his scrotum and then took a very deep breath awaiting her next move.

Marie climbed onto the end of the apparatus and began to jump. Her beautiful big tits bounced every which way as she got higher and higher. The vibration was jolting Kelly up and down on his cock which resulted in it going in and out at variable speeds which made it very frustrating.

Marie kept on pounding the canvas and as she did her lithe figure appeared over Kelly’s head each time she leaped into the air. The combination of watching her tits jiggling and plunging in and out of a well-lubricated vagina soon brought him to the boil. When he called out he was cumming Marie increased her pace and Kelly leaned back tightening her cunt around his battered schlong. When he blew his load they still continued to mangle his manhood and poor Eddie was flinging arms around almost begging for mercy.

When it was all over, and they had put their clothes back on, Eddie, still gasping for breath, and looking very pale, asked them what they thought of the gym equipment he’d showed them in the catalog.

“Oh we’re not teachers,” said Kelly, “We’re just a couple of PTA members, we come here one evening a week to get some exercise. Miss Rogers, who was due to meet you here, won’t be able to make until seven. Maybe we should hang around and make it a foursome. THE END
Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart began to race, “I think there are all kinds of possibilities there,” he mused, having a job to sit straight with his dick pressing against his pants.

“Of course we’ve never tried it,” Marie said, “We’ve not really found the right man to try it with, most of the men here have a job getting in and out of their chairs.”

“I’m always available to further the cause of higher education,” he smiled, now having to stand to relieve the pressure on his boner.
“Maybe we should all take our clothes off and try a few moves – maybe we can prove whether it offers improved health benefits,” she grinned.

The women were only wearing tank tops and sweatpants and they slipped out of them while Eddie was still trying to get his shoes off. Impatient to get things moving the two women soon started to assist him to remove his clothes and both stood back when he, completely naked, showed off his rather long stiff cock.

“I like your equipment, said Kelly, “And I don’t mean the stuff in your catalog.”

Marie laughed and asked if he guaranteed satisfaction.

Eddie was beginning to think he was the luckiest guy alive as the two women started to move their hands all over his body as if he was a god or something. It was Marie who first ran her fingers through his pubic hair and stopped with a smile when she grasped his dick. However, before things went any further Kelly suggested that they all took a shower.

“If we’re all going to start to lick each other’s bodies,” she said, “We should make sure they’re clean.”

He was in total agreement and Kelly led the way to the showers and they all shared a cabinet. They ended up like a group of big kids, throwing lather around and occasionally groping each other.

Eddie couldn’t wait to get hold of Marie’s tits and as an excuse, he washed them thoroughly for her. She leaned back on the tiled wall as he circled them with his strong hands rubbing her nipples with his palms. Then Kelly not wanting to be cut out of the fun came up behind and put her arms around him pressing her tits against his back.

Marie seemed to be getting very excited as the palming of her tits continued and she suddenly turned, put her hands against the wall and stuck out her bum inviting him to stick his throbbing red shaft up her ass. As he did so Kelly slipped her hands between his legs and gently lathered his balls.

While he pounded Marie’s ass he slipped his arms around her and grabbed hold of her tits, massaging them in time with his powerful thrusts. It wasn’t long before she screamed out,

“I’m cumming – I’m cumming,” and for some reason, Kelly got all excited and started to finger his balls with increased enthusiasm. When he shot his load he let out a few Bull Moose mating calls, ramming it into her cunt repeatedly with considerable force. As soon as he withdrew it Kelly was down on her knees sucking it for all it was worth.

Marie, still trembling from her orgasm, came up from behind and started to gently pull back on his ball bag. His foreskin was back as far as it would go and Kelly was plunging it in and out of her mouth as if she was determined for him to cum again. It didn’t take long and then both of the women knelt down and licked the dripping end together.

Eddie didn’t want to admit it but he was feeling exhausted and his legs had gone jelly-like. However, the women were only just starting. Soon they were towing him out to the gym and they actually physically lifted him on to the padded top of a vaulting table. As he lay there not knowing what to expect next Kelly used the springboard to leap on the top of him. Fortunately, she managed to land straddling his legs and not on the family jewels.

She lowered herself onto his resurrected projectile just as if she was doing an Olympic event and then started to swing her legs to and fro. It was a strange feeling as he was way deep inside of her and as she made the movements, the muscles inside her moist groove were contracting and creating sort of a sucking motion on his dick. With his head almost hanging over the table Marie came around and started to insert her tongue into his mouth and then she pulled herself gracefully above his face with her legs spread apart. She lowered herself onto his moist lips so that he could munch on her quivering quim and he ate her out with relish.

All three were groaning and moaning and Eddie balls were feeling tight and intense. He thought he was going to cum any minute but Kelly and Marie jumped off of the table together and both grabbed his arms and lead him over to the parallel bars. It was almost like a rehearsed routine.

The poor guy was a little frustrated because his balls were aching like hell as he was anxious to shoot yet another big blob of cum. However, the girls wanted to make the whole thing last and to try as much as the equipment as possible.

Marie launched herself onto the parallel bars in such a way that her pink tacho was in a direct line with his dick. Kelly took over the role of coach and directed him from the side. Responding to her commands he held onto the bars and swung into Marie’s waiting cunt. It felt great and he took several swings, once again expecting to shoot his load but the girls had one more piece of equipment to try.

They literally carried Eddie over the gym and dumped onto the trampoline. Kelly climbed on top of him and lowered herself once more onto his dick. He sank it in her hot wet crack all the way up to his scrotum and then took a very deep breath awaiting her next move.

Marie climbed onto the end of the apparatus and began to jump. Her beautiful big tits bounced every which way as she got higher and higher. The vibration was jolting Kelly up and down on his cock which resulted in it going in and out at variable speeds which made it very frustrating.

Marie kept on pounding the canvas and as she did her lithe figure appeared over Kelly’s head each time she leaped into the air. The combination of watching her tits jiggling and plunging in and out of a well-lubricated vagina soon brought him to the boil. When he called out he was cumming Marie increased her pace and Kelly leaned back tightening her cunt around his battered schlong. When he blew his load they still continued to mangle his manhood and poor Eddie was flinging arms around almost begging for mercy.

When it was all over, and they had put their clothes back on, Eddie, still gasping for breath, and looking very pale, asked them what they thought of the gym equipment he’d showed them in the catalog.

“Oh we’re not teachers,” said Kelly, “We’re just a couple of PTA members, we come here one evening a week to get some exercise. Miss Rogers, who was due to meet you here, won’t be able to make until seven. Maybe we should hang around and make it a foursome. THE END
Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart began to race, “I think there are all kinds of possibilities there,” he mused, having a job to sit straight with his dick pressing against his pants.

“Of course we’ve never tried it,” Marie said, “We’ve not really found the right man to try it with, most of the men here have a job getting in and out of their chairs.”

“I’m always available to further the cause of higher education,” he smiled, now having to stand to relieve the pressure on his boner.
“Maybe we should all take our clothes off and try a few moves – maybe we can prove whether it offers improved health benefits,” she grinned.

The women were only wearing tank tops and sweatpants and they slipped out of them while Eddie was still trying to get his shoes off. Impatient to get things moving the two women soon started to assist him to remove his clothes and both stood back when he, completely naked, showed off his rather long stiff cock.

“I like your equipment, said Kelly, “And I don’t mean the stuff in your catalog.”

Marie laughed and asked if he guaranteed satisfaction.

Eddie was beginning to think he was the luckiest guy alive as the two women started to move their hands all over his body as if he was a god or something. It was Marie who first ran her fingers through his pubic hair and stopped with a smile when she grasped his dick. However, before things went any further Kelly suggested that they all took a shower.

“If we’re all going to start to lick each other’s bodies,” she said, “We should make sure they’re clean.”

He was in total agreement and Kelly led the way to the showers and they all shared a cabinet. They ended up like a group of big kids, throwing lather around and occasionally groping each other.

Eddie couldn’t wait to get hold of Marie’s tits and as an excuse, he washed them thoroughly for her. She leaned back on the tiled wall as he circled them with his strong hands rubbing her nipples with his palms. Then Kelly not wanting to be cut out of the fun came up behind and put her arms around him pressing her tits against his back.

Marie seemed to be getting very excited as the palming of her tits continued and she suddenly turned, put her hands against the wall and stuck out her bum inviting him to stick his throbbing red shaft up her ass. As he did so Kelly slipped her hands between his legs and gently lathered his balls.

While he pounded Marie’s ass he slipped his arms around her and grabbed hold of her tits, massaging them in time with his powerful thrusts. It wasn’t long before she screamed out,

“I’m cumming – I’m cumming,” and for some reason, Kelly got all excited and started to finger his balls with increased enthusiasm. When he shot his load he let out a few Bull Moose mating calls, ramming it into her cunt repeatedly with considerable force. As soon as he withdrew it Kelly was down on her knees sucking it for all it was worth.

Marie, still trembling from her orgasm, came up from behind and started to gently pull back on his ball bag. His foreskin was back as far as it would go and Kelly was plunging it in and out of her mouth as if she was determined for him to cum again. It didn’t take long and then both of the women knelt down and licked the dripping end together.

Eddie didn’t want to admit it but he was feeling exhausted and his legs had gone jelly-like. However, the women were only just starting. Soon they were towing him out to the gym and they actually physically lifted him on to the padded top of a vaulting table. As he lay there not knowing what to expect next Kelly used the springboard to leap on the top of him. Fortunately, she managed to land straddling his legs and not on the family jewels.

She lowered herself onto his resurrected projectile just as if she was doing an Olympic event and then started to swing her legs to and fro. It was a strange feeling as he was way deep inside of her and as she made the movements, the muscles inside her moist groove were contracting and creating sort of a sucking motion on his dick. With his head almost hanging over the table Marie came around and started to insert her tongue into his mouth and then she pulled herself gracefully above his face with her legs spread apart. She lowered herself onto his moist lips so that he could munch on her quivering quim and he ate her out with relish.

All three were groaning and moaning and Eddie balls were feeling tight and intense. He thought he was going to cum any minute but Kelly and Marie jumped off of the table together and both grabbed his arms and lead him over to the parallel bars. It was almost like a rehearsed routine.

The poor guy was a little frustrated because his balls were aching like hell as he was anxious to shoot yet another big blob of cum. However, the girls wanted to make the whole thing last and to try as much as the equipment as possible.

Marie launched herself onto the parallel bars in such a way that her pink tacho was in a direct line with his dick. Kelly took over the role of coach and directed him from the side. Responding to her commands he held onto the bars and swung into Marie’s waiting cunt. It felt great and he took several swings, once again expecting to shoot his load but the girls had one more piece of equipment to try.

They literally carried Eddie over the gym and dumped onto the trampoline. Kelly climbed on top of him and lowered herself once more onto his dick. He sank it in her hot wet crack all the way up to his scrotum and then took a very deep breath awaiting her next move.

Marie climbed onto the end of the apparatus and began to jump. Her beautiful big tits bounced every which way as she got higher and higher. The vibration was jolting Kelly up and down on his cock which resulted in it going in and out at variable speeds which made it very frustrating.

Marie kept on pounding the canvas and as she did her lithe figure appeared over Kelly’s head each time she leaped into the air. The combination of watching her tits jiggling and plunging in and out of a well-lubricated vagina soon brought him to the boil. When he called out he was cumming Marie increased her pace and Kelly leaned back tightening her cunt around his battered schlong. When he blew his load they still continued to mangle his manhood and poor Eddie was flinging arms around almost begging for mercy.

When it was all over, and they had put their clothes back on, Eddie, still gasping for breath, and looking very pale, asked them what they thought of the gym equipment he’d showed them in the catalog.

“Oh we’re not teachers,” said Kelly, “We’re just a couple of PTA members, we come here one evening a week to get some exercise. Miss Rogers, who was due to meet you here, won’t be able to make until seven. Maybe we should hang around and make it a foursome. THE END
Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart began to race, “I think there are all kinds of possibilities there,” he mused, having a job to sit straight with his dick pressing against his pants.

“Of course we’ve never tried it,” Marie said, “We’ve not really found the right man to try it with, most of the men here have a job getting in and out of their chairs.”

“I’m always available to further the cause of higher education,” he smiled, now having to stand to relieve the pressure on his boner.
“Maybe we should all take our clothes off and try a few moves – maybe we can prove whether it offers improved health benefits,” she grinned.

The women were only wearing tank tops and sweatpants and they slipped out of them while Eddie was still trying to get his shoes off. Impatient to get things moving the two women soon started to assist him to remove his clothes and both stood back when he, completely naked, showed off his rather long stiff cock.

“I like your equipment, said Kelly, “And I don’t mean the stuff in your catalog.”

Marie laughed and asked if he guaranteed satisfaction.

Eddie was beginning to think he was the luckiest guy alive as the two women started to move their hands all over his body as if he was a god or something. It was Marie who first ran her fingers through his pubic hair and stopped with a smile when she grasped his dick. However, before things went any further Kelly suggested that they all took a shower.

“If we’re all going to start to lick each other’s bodies,” she said, “We should make sure they’re clean.”

He was in total agreement and Kelly led the way to the showers and they all shared a cabinet. They ended up like a group of big kids, throwing lather around and occasionally groping each other.

Eddie couldn’t wait to get hold of Marie’s tits and as an excuse, he washed them thoroughly for her. She leaned back on the tiled wall as he circled them with his strong hands rubbing her nipples with his palms. Then Kelly not wanting to be cut out of the fun came up behind and put her arms around him pressing her tits against his back.

Marie seemed to be getting very excited as the palming of her tits continued and she suddenly turned, put her hands against the wall and stuck out her bum inviting him to stick his throbbing red shaft up her ass. As he did so Kelly slipped her hands between his legs and gently lathered his balls.

While he pounded Marie’s ass he slipped his arms around her and grabbed hold of her tits, massaging them in time with his powerful thrusts. It wasn’t long before she screamed out,

“I’m cumming – I’m cumming,” and for some reason, Kelly got all excited and started to finger his balls with increased enthusiasm. When he shot his load he let out a few Bull Moose mating calls, ramming it into her cunt repeatedly with considerable force. As soon as he withdrew it Kelly was down on her knees sucking it for all it was worth.

Marie, still trembling from her orgasm, came up from behind and started to gently pull back on his ball bag. His foreskin was back as far as it would go and Kelly was plunging it in and out of her mouth as if she was determined for him to cum again. It didn’t take long and then both of the women knelt down and licked the dripping end together.

Eddie didn’t want to admit it but he was feeling exhausted and his legs had gone jelly-like. However, the women were only just starting. Soon they were towing him out to the gym and they actually physically lifted him on to the padded top of a vaulting table. As he lay there not knowing what to expect next Kelly used the springboard to leap on the top of him. Fortunately, she managed to land straddling his legs and not on the family jewels.

She lowered herself onto his resurrected projectile just as if she was doing an Olympic event and then started to swing her legs to and fro. It was a strange feeling as he was way deep inside of her and as she made the movements, the muscles inside her moist groove were contracting and creating sort of a sucking motion on his dick. With his head almost hanging over the table Marie came around and started to insert her tongue into his mouth and then she pulled herself gracefully above his face with her legs spread apart. She lowered herself onto his moist lips so that he could munch on her quivering quim and he ate her out with relish.

All three were groaning and moaning and Eddie balls were feeling tight and intense. He thought he was going to cum any minute but Kelly and Marie jumped off of the table together and both grabbed his arms and lead him over to the parallel bars. It was almost like a rehearsed routine.

The poor guy was a little frustrated because his balls were aching like hell as he was anxious to shoot yet another big blob of cum. However, the girls wanted to make the whole thing last and to try as much as the equipment as possible.

Marie launched herself onto the parallel bars in such a way that her pink tacho was in a direct line with his dick. Kelly took over the role of coach and directed him from the side. Responding to her commands he held onto the bars and swung into Marie’s waiting cunt. It felt great and he took several swings, once again expecting to shoot his load but the girls had one more piece of equipment to try.

They literally carried Eddie over the gym and dumped onto the trampoline. Kelly climbed on top of him and lowered herself once more onto his dick. He sank it in her hot wet crack all the way up to his scrotum and then took a very deep breath awaiting her next move.

Marie climbed onto the end of the apparatus and began to jump. Her beautiful big tits bounced every which way as she got higher and higher. The vibration was jolting Kelly up and down on his cock which resulted in it going in and out at variable speeds which made it very frustrating.

Marie kept on pounding the canvas and as she did her lithe figure appeared over Kelly’s head each time she leaped into the air. The combination of watching her tits jiggling and plunging in and out of a well-lubricated vagina soon brought him to the boil. When he called out he was cumming Marie increased her pace and Kelly leaned back tightening her cunt around his battered schlong. When he blew his load they still continued to mangle his manhood and poor Eddie was flinging arms around almost begging for mercy.

When it was all over, and they had put their clothes back on, Eddie, still gasping for breath, and looking very pale, asked them what they thought of the gym equipment he’d showed them in the catalog.

“Oh we’re not teachers,” said Kelly, “We’re just a couple of PTA members, we come here one evening a week to get some exercise. Miss Rogers, who was due to meet you here, won’t be able to make until seven. Maybe we should hang around and make it a foursome. THE END
Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart began to race, “I think there are all kinds of possibilities there,” he mused, having a job to sit straight with his dick pressing against his pants.

“Of course we’ve never tried it,” Marie said, “We’ve not really found the right man to try it with, most of the men here have a job getting in and out of their chairs.”

“I’m always available to further the cause of higher education,” he smiled, now having to stand to relieve the pressure on his boner.
“Maybe we should all take our clothes off and try a few moves – maybe we can prove whether it offers improved health benefits,” she grinned.

The women were only wearing tank tops and sweatpants and they slipped out of them while Eddie was still trying to get his shoes off. Impatient to get things moving the two women soon started to assist him to remove his clothes and both stood back when he, completely naked, showed off his rather long stiff cock.

“I like your equipment, said Kelly, “And I don’t mean the stuff in your catalog.”

Marie laughed and asked if he guaranteed satisfaction.

Eddie was beginning to think he was the luckiest guy alive as the two women started to move their hands all over his body as if he was a god or something. It was Marie who first ran her fingers through his pubic hair and stopped with a smile when she grasped his dick. However, before things went any further Kelly suggested that they all took a shower.

“If we’re all going to start to lick each other’s bodies,” she said, “We should make sure they’re clean.”

He was in total agreement and Kelly led the way to the showers and they all shared a cabinet. They ended up like a group of big kids, throwing lather around and occasionally groping each other.

Eddie couldn’t wait to get hold of Marie’s tits and as an excuse, he washed them thoroughly for her. She leaned back on the tiled wall as he circled them with his strong hands rubbing her nipples with his palms. Then Kelly not wanting to be cut out of the fun came up behind and put her arms around him pressing her tits against his back.

Marie seemed to be getting very excited as the palming of her tits continued and she suddenly turned, put her hands against the wall and stuck out her bum inviting him to stick his throbbing red shaft up her ass. As he did so Kelly slipped her hands between his legs and gently lathered his balls.

While he pounded Marie’s ass he slipped his arms around her and grabbed hold of her tits, massaging them in time with his powerful thrusts. It wasn’t long before she screamed out,

“I’m cumming – I’m cumming,” and for some reason, Kelly got all excited and started to finger his balls with increased enthusiasm. When he shot his load he let out a few Bull Moose mating calls, ramming it into her cunt repeatedly with considerable force. As soon as he withdrew it Kelly was down on her knees sucking it for all it was worth.

Marie, still trembling from her orgasm, came up from behind and started to gently pull back on his ball bag. His foreskin was back as far as it would go and Kelly was plunging it in and out of her mouth as if she was determined for him to cum again. It didn’t take long and then both of the women knelt down and licked the dripping end together.

Eddie didn’t want to admit it but he was feeling exhausted and his legs had gone jelly-like. However, the women were only just starting. Soon they were towing him out to the gym and they actually physically lifted him on to the padded top of a vaulting table. As he lay there not knowing what to expect next Kelly used the springboard to leap on the top of him. Fortunately, she managed to land straddling his legs and not on the family jewels.

She lowered herself onto his resurrected projectile just as if she was doing an Olympic event and then started to swing her legs to and fro. It was a strange feeling as he was way deep inside of her and as she made the movements, the muscles inside her moist groove were contracting and creating sort of a sucking motion on his dick. With his head almost hanging over the table Marie came around and started to insert her tongue into his mouth and then she pulled herself gracefully above his face with her legs spread apart. She lowered herself onto his moist lips so that he could munch on her quivering quim and he ate her out with relish.

All three were groaning and moaning and Eddie balls were feeling tight and intense. He thought he was going to cum any minute but Kelly and Marie jumped off of the table together and both grabbed his arms and lead him over to the parallel bars. It was almost like a rehearsed routine.

The poor guy was a little frustrated because his balls were aching like hell as he was anxious to shoot yet another big blob of cum. However, the girls wanted to make the whole thing last and to try as much as the equipment as possible.

Marie launched herself onto the parallel bars in such a way that her pink tacho was in a direct line with his dick. Kelly took over the role of coach and directed him from the side. Responding to her commands he held onto the bars and swung into Marie’s waiting cunt. It felt great and he took several swings, once again expecting to shoot his load but the girls had one more piece of equipment to try.

They literally carried Eddie over the gym and dumped onto the trampoline. Kelly climbed on top of him and lowered herself once more onto his dick. He sank it in her hot wet crack all the way up to his scrotum and then took a very deep breath awaiting her next move.

Marie climbed onto the end of the apparatus and began to jump. Her beautiful big tits bounced every which way as she got higher and higher. The vibration was jolting Kelly up and down on his cock which resulted in it going in and out at variable speeds which made it very frustrating.

Marie kept on pounding the canvas and as she did her lithe figure appeared over Kelly’s head each time she leaped into the air. The combination of watching her tits jiggling and plunging in and out of a well-lubricated vagina soon brought him to the boil. When he called out he was cumming Marie increased her pace and Kelly leaned back tightening her cunt around his battered schlong. When he blew his load they still continued to mangle his manhood and poor Eddie was flinging arms around almost begging for mercy.

When it was all over, and they had put their clothes back on, Eddie, still gasping for breath, and looking very pale, asked them what they thought of the gym equipment he’d showed them in the catalog.

“Oh we’re not teachers,” said Kelly, “We’re just a couple of PTA members, we come here one evening a week to get some exercise. Miss Rogers, who was due to meet you here, won’t be able to make until seven. Maybe we should hang around and make it a foursome. THE END
Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart began to race, “I think there are all kinds of possibilities there,” he mused, having a job to sit straight with his dick pressing against his pants.

“Of course we’ve never tried it,” Marie said, “We’ve not really found the right man to try it with, most of the men here have a job getting in and out of their chairs.”

“I’m always available to further the cause of higher education,” he smiled, now having to stand to relieve the pressure on his boner.
“Maybe we should all take our clothes off and try a few moves – maybe we can prove whether it offers improved health benefits,” she grinned.

The women were only wearing tank tops and sweatpants and they slipped out of them while Eddie was still trying to get his shoes off. Impatient to get things moving the two women soon started to assist him to remove his clothes and both stood back when he, completely naked, showed off his rather long stiff cock.

“I like your equipment, said Kelly, “And I don’t mean the stuff in your catalog.”

Marie laughed and asked if he guaranteed satisfaction.

Eddie was beginning to think he was the luckiest guy alive as the two women started to move their hands all over his body as if he was a god or something. It was Marie who first ran her fingers through his pubic hair and stopped with a smile when she grasped his dick. However, before things went any further Kelly suggested that they all took a shower.

“If we’re all going to start to lick each other’s bodies,” she said, “We should make sure they’re clean.”

He was in total agreement and Kelly led the way to the showers and they all shared a cabinet. They ended up like a group of big kids, throwing lather around and occasionally groping each other.

Eddie couldn’t wait to get hold of Marie’s tits and as an excuse, he washed them thoroughly for her. She leaned back on the tiled wall as he circled them with his strong hands rubbing her nipples with his palms. Then Kelly not wanting to be cut out of the fun came up behind and put her arms around him pressing her tits against his back.

Marie seemed to be getting very excited as the palming of her tits continued and she suddenly turned, put her hands against the wall and stuck out her bum inviting him to stick his throbbing red shaft up her ass. As he did so Kelly slipped her hands between his legs and gently lathered his balls.

While he pounded Marie’s ass he slipped his arms around her and grabbed hold of her tits, massaging them in time with his powerful thrusts. It wasn’t long before she screamed out,

“I’m cumming – I’m cumming,” and for some reason, Kelly got all excited and started to finger his balls with increased enthusiasm. When he shot his load he let out a few Bull Moose mating calls, ramming it into her cunt repeatedly with considerable force. As soon as he withdrew it Kelly was down on her knees sucking it for all it was worth.

Marie, still trembling from her orgasm, came up from behind and started to gently pull back on his ball bag. His foreskin was back as far as it would go and Kelly was plunging it in and out of her mouth as if she was determined for him to cum again. It didn’t take long and then both of the women knelt down and licked the dripping end together.

Eddie didn’t want to admit it but he was feeling exhausted and his legs had gone jelly-like. However, the women were only just starting. Soon they were towing him out to the gym and they actually physically lifted him on to the padded top of a vaulting table. As he lay there not knowing what to expect next Kelly used the springboard to leap on the top of him. Fortunately, she managed to land straddling his legs and not on the family jewels.

She lowered herself onto his resurrected projectile just as if she was doing an Olympic event and then started to swing her legs to and fro. It was a strange feeling as he was way deep inside of her and as she made the movements, the muscles inside her moist groove were contracting and creating sort of a sucking motion on his dick. With his head almost hanging over the table Marie came around and started to insert her tongue into his mouth and then she pulled herself gracefully above his face with her legs spread apart. She lowered herself onto his moist lips so that he could munch on her quivering quim and he ate her out with relish.

All three were groaning and moaning and Eddie balls were feeling tight and intense. He thought he was going to cum any minute but Kelly and Marie jumped off of the table together and both grabbed his arms and lead him over to the parallel bars. It was almost like a rehearsed routine.

The poor guy was a little frustrated because his balls were aching like hell as he was anxious to shoot yet another big blob of cum. However, the girls wanted to make the whole thing last and to try as much as the equipment as possible.

Marie launched herself onto the parallel bars in such a way that her pink tacho was in a direct line with his dick. Kelly took over the role of coach and directed him from the side. Responding to her commands he held onto the bars and swung into Marie’s waiting cunt. It felt great and he took several swings, once again expecting to shoot his load but the girls had one more piece of equipment to try.

They literally carried Eddie over the gym and dumped onto the trampoline. Kelly climbed on top of him and lowered herself once more onto his dick. He sank it in her hot wet crack all the way up to his scrotum and then took a very deep breath awaiting her next move.

Marie climbed onto the end of the apparatus and began to jump. Her beautiful big tits bounced every which way as she got higher and higher. The vibration was jolting Kelly up and down on his cock which resulted in it going in and out at variable speeds which made it very frustrating.

Marie kept on pounding the canvas and as she did her lithe figure appeared over Kelly’s head each time she leaped into the air. The combination of watching her tits jiggling and plunging in and out of a well-lubricated vagina soon brought him to the boil. When he called out he was cumming Marie increased her pace and Kelly leaned back tightening her cunt around his battered schlong. When he blew his load they still continued to mangle his manhood and poor Eddie was flinging arms around almost begging for mercy.

When it was all over, and they had put their clothes back on, Eddie, still gasping for breath, and looking very pale, asked them what they thought of the gym equipment he’d showed them in the catalog.

“Oh we’re not teachers,” said Kelly, “We’re just a couple of PTA members, we come here one evening a week to get some exercise. Miss Rogers, who was due to meet you here, won’t be able to make until seven. Maybe we should hang around and make it a foursome. THE END
Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart began to race, “I think there are all kinds of possibilities there,” he mused, having a job to sit straight with his dick pressing against his pants.

“Of course we’ve never tried it,” Marie said, “We’ve not really found the right man to try it with, most of the men here have a job getting in and out of their chairs.”

“I’m always available to further the cause of higher education,” he smiled, now having to stand to relieve the pressure on his boner.
“Maybe we should all take our clothes off and try a few moves – maybe we can prove whether it offers improved health benefits,” she grinned.

The women were only wearing tank tops and sweatpants and they slipped out of them while Eddie was still trying to get his shoes off. Impatient to get things moving the two women soon started to assist him to remove his clothes and both stood back when he, completely naked, showed off his rather long stiff cock.

“I like your equipment, said Kelly, “And I don’t mean the stuff in your catalog.”

Marie laughed and asked if he guaranteed satisfaction.

Eddie was beginning to think he was the luckiest guy alive as the two women started to move their hands all over his body as if he was a god or something. It was Marie who first ran her fingers through his pubic hair and stopped with a smile when she grasped his dick. However, before things went any further Kelly suggested that they all took a shower.

“If we’re all going to start to lick each other’s bodies,” she said, “We should make sure they’re clean.”

He was in total agreement and Kelly led the way to the showers and they all shared a cabinet. They ended up like a group of big kids, throwing lather around and occasionally groping each other.

Eddie couldn’t wait to get hold of Marie’s tits and as an excuse, he washed them thoroughly for her. She leaned back on the tiled wall as he circled them with his strong hands rubbing her nipples with his palms. Then Kelly not wanting to be cut out of the fun came up behind and put her arms around him pressing her tits against his back.

Marie seemed to be getting very excited as the palming of her tits continued and she suddenly turned, put her hands against the wall and stuck out her bum inviting him to stick his throbbing red shaft up her ass. As he did so Kelly slipped her hands between his legs and gently lathered his balls.

While he pounded Marie’s ass he slipped his arms around her and grabbed hold of her tits, massaging them in time with his powerful thrusts. It wasn’t long before she screamed out,

“I’m cumming – I’m cumming,” and for some reason, Kelly got all excited and started to finger his balls with increased enthusiasm. When he shot his load he let out a few Bull Moose mating calls, ramming it into her cunt repeatedly with considerable force. As soon as he withdrew it Kelly was down on her knees sucking it for all it was worth.

Marie, still trembling from her orgasm, came up from behind and started to gently pull back on his ball bag. His foreskin was back as far as it would go and Kelly was plunging it in and out of her mouth as if she was determined for him to cum again. It didn’t take long and then both of the women knelt down and licked the dripping end together.

Eddie didn’t want to admit it but he was feeling exhausted and his legs had gone jelly-like. However, the women were only just starting. Soon they were towing him out to the gym and they actually physically lifted him on to the padded top of a vaulting table. As he lay there not knowing what to expect next Kelly used the springboard to leap on the top of him. Fortunately, she managed to land straddling his legs and not on the family jewels.

She lowered herself onto his resurrected projectile just as if she was doing an Olympic event and then started to swing her legs to and fro. It was a strange feeling as he was way deep inside of her and as she made the movements, the muscles inside her moist groove were contracting and creating sort of a sucking motion on his dick. With his head almost hanging over the table Marie came around and started to insert her tongue into his mouth and then she pulled herself gracefully above his face with her legs spread apart. She lowered herself onto his moist lips so that he could munch on her quivering quim and he ate her out with relish.

All three were groaning and moaning and Eddie balls were feeling tight and intense. He thought he was going to cum any minute but Kelly and Marie jumped off of the table together and both grabbed his arms and lead him over to the parallel bars. It was almost like a rehearsed routine.

The poor guy was a little frustrated because his balls were aching like hell as he was anxious to shoot yet another big blob of cum. However, the girls wanted to make the whole thing last and to try as much as the equipment as possible.

Marie launched herself onto the parallel bars in such a way that her pink tacho was in a direct line with his dick. Kelly took over the role of coach and directed him from the side. Responding to her commands he held onto the bars and swung into Marie’s waiting cunt. It felt great and he took several swings, once again expecting to shoot his load but the girls had one more piece of equipment to try.

They literally carried Eddie over the gym and dumped onto the trampoline. Kelly climbed on top of him and lowered herself once more onto his dick. He sank it in her hot wet crack all the way up to his scrotum and then took a very deep breath awaiting her next move.

Marie climbed onto the end of the apparatus and began to jump. Her beautiful big tits bounced every which way as she got higher and higher. The vibration was jolting Kelly up and down on his cock which resulted in it going in and out at variable speeds which made it very frustrating.

Marie kept on pounding the canvas and as she did her lithe figure appeared over Kelly’s head each time she leaped into the air. The combination of watching her tits jiggling and plunging in and out of a well-lubricated vagina soon brought him to the boil. When he called out he was cumming Marie increased her pace and Kelly leaned back tightening her cunt around his battered schlong. When he blew his load they still continued to mangle his manhood and poor Eddie was flinging arms around almost begging for mercy.

When it was all over, and they had put their clothes back on, Eddie, still gasping for breath, and looking very pale, asked them what they thought of the gym equipment he’d showed them in the catalog.

“Oh we’re not teachers,” said Kelly, “We’re just a couple of PTA members, we come here one evening a week to get some exercise. Miss Rogers, who was due to meet you here, won’t be able to make until seven. Maybe we should hang around and make it a foursome. THE END
Eddie Johnson had a great job selling gym equipment to schools. He traveled all over North America and met a lot of gorgeous gym teachers on the way.

Over the years he’d worked out a routine that not only sold parallel bars and vaulting horses but tested the water to see if these limber ladies were looking for a good fuck. It was amazing how many of these teachers had ended up with him feeling their muscles.

Usually, it took place in a storage room on a pile of floor mats and a couple of times on the desk in their office but he was about to have a new experience while traveling through Alberta, Canada. In this particular school, there were a couple of women he could only describe as drop dead gorgeous.

Kelly was around 30, blonde, with an incredible figure and Marie, who appeared to be her assistant, was about 23 with tits that a porn star would have given their right arm for. When he walked into the gym to meet them after hours, he knew they liked the look of him from their expressions.

They sat on some equipment and looked through his catalogs but it wasn’t long before he managed to steer the conversation around to sex. He started by talking about the younger generation and got around to saying how regular sex was really good for your overall health.

Both the women giggled at this statement and Kelly said that he must be getting quite a lot because he looked so very healthy.

“Do you think it’s good to be adventurous when you’re having sex,” she asked with a wry smile.

“Love adventure,” he replied, feeling confident that something good was going to develop from this conversation.

“Marie and I were only talking yesterday about how you could combine sex with exercise by using gym equipment.”

Eddie’s heart

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#########

#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
#####################################################
##############################################

she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.
she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the

No reasonable analyst believes that Russia’s active measures in the United States and Europe have been the dominant force behind the ascent of Trump and nationalist politicians in Europe. Resentment of the effects of globalization and deindustrialization are far more important factors. But many Western Europeans do fear that the West and its postwar alliances and institutions are endangered, and that Trump, who has expressed doubts about NATO and showed allegiance to Brexit and similar anti-European movements, cannot be counted on. Although both Secretary of State Rex Tillerson and Defense Secretary James Mattis have expressed support for traditional alliances, Trump remains entirely uncritical of Putin. “Trump changes the situation from a NATO perspective,” General Shirreff said. “The great fear is the neutering of NATO and the decoupling of America from European security. If that happens, it gives Putin all kinds of opportunities. If Trump steps back the way he seemed to as a candidate, you might not even need to do things like invade the Baltic states. You can just dominate them anyway. You’re beginning to see the collapse of institutions built to insure our security. And if that happens you will see the re-nationalizing of Europe as a whole.”

“How long will Angela Merkel hold out against Donald Trump?” Stephen Sestanovich, who was an adviser on Russia to both the Reagan and the Clinton Administrations, asked. “She is already by herself in Europe. Putin is going to look like the preëminent power in Europe.” Der Spiegel published a startling editorial recently that reflected the general dismay in Europe, and the decline of American prestige since Trump’s election. The new President, it said, is becoming “a danger to the world” that Germany must stand up in opposition to.
Cartoon
“When Brooklyn became unaffordable, we moved to the Middle Ages.”

Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

Strobe Talbott, the former Clinton adviser, said, “There is a very real danger not only that we are going to lose a second Cold War—or have a redo and lose—but that the loss will be largely because of a perverse pal-ship, the almost unfathomable respect that Trump has for Putin.” Talbott believes that Trump, by showing so little regard for the institutions established by the political West in the past seventy years, is putting the world in danger. Asked what the consequences of “losing” such a conflict would be, Talbott said, “The not quite apocalyptic answer is that it is going to take years and years and years to get back to where we—we the United States and we the champions of the liberal world order—were as recently as five years ago.” An even graver scenario, Talbott said, would be an “unravelling,” in which we revert to “a dog-eat-dog world with constant instability and conflict even if it doesn’t go nuclear. But, with the proliferation of nuclear powers, it is easy to see it going that way, too.”

Andrei Kozyrev, who served as foreign minister in the Yeltsin government, now lives in Washington, D.C. He left Russia as it became increasingly authoritarian; he now sees a disturbingly similar pattern in his adopted country. “I am very concerned,” he said. “My fear is that this is probably the first time in my memory that it seems we have the same kind of people on both sides—in the Kremlin and in the White House. The same people. It’s probably why they like each other. It’s not a matter of policy, but it’s that they feel that they are alike. They care less for democracy and values, and more for personal success, however that is defined.”


Advertisement


Although the evidence for Russia’s interference appears convincing, it is too easy to allow such an account to become the master narrative of Trump’s ascent—a way to explain the presence of a man who is so alien and discomforting to so much of the population by rendering him in some way foreign. In truth, he is a phenomenon of America’s own making.

At the same time, Trump’s management style as President has been so chaotic, so improvisational, that the daily bonfire sometimes obscures what has been put in place. “Putin likes people like Tillerson, who do business and don’t talk about human rights,” one former Russian policy adviser said. The Trump Administration, notably, said nothing when a Russian court—the courts are well within Putin’s control—found Alexei Navalny, an anti-corruption campaigner and Putin’s only serious rival in next year’s Presidential election, guilty of a fraud charge that had already been overturned once, a conviction that may keep him out of the race. The Russians see friendly faces in the Administration. Tillerson, as the chairman of ExxonMobil, did “massive deals in Russia,” as Trump has put it. He formed an especially close relationship with Igor Sechin, who is among Putin’s closest advisers, and who has made a fortune as chief executive of the state oil consortium, Rosneft. Trump’s first national-security adviser, Michael Flynn, took a forty-thousand-dollar fee from the Russian propaganda station RT to appear at one of its dinners, where he sat next to Putin.

The Obama Administration, in its final days, had retaliated against Russian hacking by expelling thirty-five Russian officials and closing two diplomatic compounds. The Kremlin promised “reciprocal” punishment, and American intelligence took the first steps in sending new officials to Moscow to replace whoever would be expelled. “People were already on planes,” a U.S. intelligence official said. But on December 30th Putin said that he would not retaliate. To understand the abrupt reversal, American intelligence scrutinized communications involving Sergey Kislyak, Russia’s Ambassador to the U.S., and discovered that Flynn had had conversations with him, which touched on the future of economic sanctions. (Jared Kushner, Trump’s son-in-law, met with Kislyak in Trump Tower during the transition; the aim, according to the White House, was to establish “a more open line of communication in the future.”) Flynn was forced to resign when news broke that he had lied to Vice-President Mike Pence about these exchanges.

Trump has given risibly inconsistent accounts of his own ties to Russia. When he was in Moscow for the Miss Universe contest in 2013, and an interviewer for MSNBC asked him about Putin, he said, “I do have a relationship and I can tell you that he’s very interested in what we’re doing here today”; at a subsequent National Press Club luncheon, he recalled, “I spoke indirectly and directly with President Putin, who could not have been nicer.” During the Presidential campaign, he said, “I never met Putin, I don’t know who Putin is.” Trump has tweeted that he has “nothing to do with Russia”; in 2008, his son Donald, Jr., said that “Russians make up a pretty disproportionate cross-section of a lot of our assets.” At a news conference on February 16th, Trump was asked, again, if anyone in his campaign had been in contact with Russia, and he said, “Nobody that I know of.” He called reports of Russian contacts “a ruse,” and said, “I have nothing to do with Russia. Haven’t made a phone call to Russia in years. Don’t speak to people from Russia.” The next day, the Senate Intelligence Committee formally advised the White House to preserve all material that might shed light on contacts with Russian representatives; any effort to obscure those contacts could qualify as a crime.


Advertisement


By mid-February, law-enforcement and intelligence agencies had accumulated multiple examples of contacts between Russians and Trump’s associates, according to three current and former U.S. officials. Intercepted communications among Russian intelligence figures are said to include frequent reference to Paul Manafort, Trump’s campaign chairman for several months in 2016, who had previously worked as a political consultant in Ukraine. “Whether he knew it or not, Manafort was around Russian intelligence all the time,” one of the officials said. Investigators are likely to examine Trump and a range of his associates—Manafort; Flynn; Stone; a foreign policy adviser, Carter Page; the lawyer Michael Cohen—for potential illegal or unethical entanglements with Russian government or business representatives.

“To me, the question might finally come down to this,” Celeste Wallander, President Obama’s senior adviser on Russia, said. “Will Putin expose the failings of American democracy or will he inadvertently expose the strength of American democracy?”

The working theory among intelligence officials involved in the case is that the Russian approach—including hacking, propaganda, and contacts with Trump associates—was an improvisation rather than a long-standing plan. The official said, “After the election, there were a lot of Embassy communications”—to Moscow—“saying, stunned, ‘What we do now?’ ”

Initially, members of the Russian élite celebrated Clinton’s disappearance from the scene, and the new drift toward an America First populism that would leave Russia alone. The fall of Michael Flynn and the prospect of congressional hearings, though, have tempered the enthusiasm. Fyodor Lukyanov, the editor-in-chief of a leading foreign-policy journal in Moscow, said that Trump, facing pressure from congressional investigations, the press, and the intelligence agencies, might now have to be a far more “ordinary Republican President than was initially thought.” In other words, Trump might conclude that he no longer has the political latitude to end sanctions against Moscow and accommodate Russia’s geopolitical ambitions. As a sign of the shifting mood in Moscow, the Kremlin ordered Russian television outlets to be more reserved in their coverage of the new President.

Konstantin von Eggert, a political commentator and host on Russian television, heard from a friend at a state-owned media holding that an edict had arrived that, he said, “boiled down to one phrase: no more Trump.” The implicit message, von Eggert explained, “is not that there now should be negative coverage but that there should be much less, and more balanced.” The Kremlin has apparently decided, he said, that Russian state media risked looking “overly fawning in their attitude to Trump, that all this toasting and champagne drinking made us look silly, and so let’s forget about Trump for some time, lowering expectations as necessary, and then reinvent his image according to new realities.”

Alexey Venediktov, the editor-in-chief of Echo of Moscow, and a figure with deep contacts inside the Russian political élite, said, “Trump was attractive to people in Russia’s political establishment as a disturber of the peace for their counterparts in the American political establishment.” Venediktov suggested that, for Putin and those closest to him, any support that the Russian state provided to Trump’s candidacy was a move in a long-standing rivalry with the West; in Putin’s eyes, it is Russia’s most pressing strategic concern, one that predates Trump and will outlast him. Putin’s Russia has to come up with ways to make up for its economic and geopolitical weakness; its traditional levers of influence are limited, and, were it not for a formidable nuclear arsenal, it’s unclear how important a world power it would be. “So, well then, we have to create turbulence inside America itself,” Venediktov said. “A country that is beset by turbulence closes up on itself—and Russia’s hands are freed.” ♦


Advertisement


*An earlier version of this passage wrongly indicated that the U.S. is known to have funded Russian political parties.



Photographs: Yuri Smityuk/TASS/Getty; Spiegl/ullstein bild/Getty; Mikhail Metzel/TASS/Getty; from left to right: Vadim Ghirda/AP, Laski Diffusion/Getty, Lev Fedoseyev/TASS/Getty, Bulent Doruk/Anadolu Agency/Getty, Drew Angerer/Getty, Sergei Savostyanov/TASS/Getty, Filippo Monteforte/AFP/Getty, Aleksey Filippov/AFP/Getty
No reasonable analyst believes that Russia’s active measures in the United States and Europe have been the dominant force behind the ascent of Trump and nationalist politicians in Europe. Resentment of the effects of globalization and deindustrialization are far more important factors. But many Western Europeans do fear that the West and its postwar alliances and institutions are endangered, and that Trump, who has expressed doubts about NATO and showed allegiance to Brexit and similar anti-European movements, cannot be counted on. Although both Secretary of State Rex Tillerson and Defense Secretary James Mattis have expressed support for traditional alliances, Trump remains entirely uncritical of Putin. “Trump changes the situation from a NATO perspective,” General Shirreff said. “The great fear is the neutering of NATO and the decoupling of America from European security. If that happens, it gives Putin all kinds of opportunities. If Trump steps back the way he seemed to as a candidate, you might not even need to do things like invade the Baltic states. You can just dominate them anyway. You’re beginning to see the collapse of institutions built to insure our security. And if that happens you will see the re-nationalizing of Europe as a whole.”

“How long will Angela Merkel hold out against Donald Trump?” Stephen Sestanovich, who was an adviser on Russia to both the Reagan and the Clinton Administrations, asked. “She is already by herself in Europe. Putin is going to look like the preëminent power in Europe.” Der Spiegel published a startling editorial recently that reflected the general dismay in Europe, and the decline of American prestige since Trump’s election. The new President, it said, is becoming “a danger to the world” that Germany must stand up in opposition to.
Cartoon
“When Brooklyn became unaffordable, we moved to the Middle Ages.”

Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

Strobe Talbott, the former Clinton adviser, said, “There is a very real danger not only that we are going to lose a second Cold War—or have a redo and lose—but that the loss will be largely because of a perverse pal-ship, the almost unfathomable respect that Trump has for Putin.” Talbott believes that Trump, by showing so little regard for the institutions established by the political West in the past seventy years, is putting the world in danger. Asked what the consequences of “losing” such a conflict would be, Talbott said, “The not quite apocalyptic answer is that it is going to take years and years and years to get back to where we—we the United States and we the champions of the liberal world order—were as recently as five years ago.” An even graver scenario, Talbott said, would be an “unravelling,” in which we revert to “a dog-eat-dog world with constant instability and conflict even if it doesn’t go nuclear. But, with the proliferation of nuclear powers, it is easy to see it going that way, too.”

Andrei Kozyrev, who served as foreign minister in the Yeltsin government, now lives in Washington, D.C. He left Russia as it became increasingly authoritarian; he now sees a disturbingly similar pattern in his adopted country. “I am very concerned,” he said. “My fear is that this is probably the first time in my memory that it seems we have the same kind of people on both sides—in the Kremlin and in the White House. The same people. It’s probably why they like each other. It’s not a matter of policy, but it’s that they feel that they are alike. They care less for democracy and values, and more for personal success, however that is defined.”


Advertisement


Although the evidence for Russia’s interference appears convincing, it is too easy to allow such an account to become the master narrative of Trump’s ascent—a way to explain the presence of a man who is so alien and discomforting to so much of the population by rendering him in some way foreign. In truth, he is a phenomenon of America’s own making.

At the same time, Trump’s management style as President has been so chaotic, so improvisational, that the daily bonfire sometimes obscures what has been put in place. “Putin likes people like Tillerson, who do business and don’t talk about human rights,” one former Russian policy adviser said. The Trump Administration, notably, said nothing when a Russian court—the courts are well within Putin’s control—found Alexei Navalny, an anti-corruption campaigner and Putin’s only serious rival in next year’s Presidential election, guilty of a fraud charge that had already been overturned once, a conviction that may keep him out of the race. The Russians see friendly faces in the Administration. Tillerson, as the chairman of ExxonMobil, did “massive deals in Russia,” as Trump has put it. He formed an especially close relationship with Igor Sechin, who is among Putin’s closest advisers, and who has made a fortune as chief executive of the state oil consortium, Rosneft. Trump’s first national-security adviser, Michael Flynn, took a forty-thousand-dollar fee from the Russian propaganda station RT to appear at one of its dinners, where he sat next to Putin.

The Obama Administration, in its final days, had retaliated against Russian hacking by expelling thirty-five Russian officials and closing two diplomatic compounds. The Kremlin promised “reciprocal” punishment, and American intelligence took the first steps in sending new officials to Moscow to replace whoever would be expelled. “People were already on planes,” a U.S. intelligence official said. But on December 30th Putin said that he would not retaliate. To understand the abrupt reversal, American intelligence scrutinized communications involving Sergey Kislyak, Russia’s Ambassador to the U.S., and discovered that Flynn had had conversations with him, which touched on the future of economic sanctions. (Jared Kushner, Trump’s son-in-law, met with Kislyak in Trump Tower during the transition; the aim, according to the White House, was to establish “a more open line of communication in the future.”) Flynn was forced to resign when news broke that he had lied to Vice-President Mike Pence about these exchanges.

Trump has given risibly inconsistent accounts of his own ties to Russia. When he was in Moscow for the Miss Universe contest in 2013, and an interviewer for MSNBC asked him about Putin, he said, “I do have a relationship and I can tell you that he’s very interested in what we’re doing here today”; at a subsequent National Press Club luncheon, he recalled, “I spoke indirectly and directly with President Putin, who could not have been nicer.” During the Presidential campaign, he said, “I never met Putin, I don’t know who Putin is.” Trump has tweeted that he has “nothing to do with Russia”; in 2008, his son Donald, Jr., said that “Russians make up a pretty disproportionate cross-section of a lot of our assets.” At a news conference on February 16th, Trump was asked, again, if anyone in his campaign had been in contact with Russia, and he said, “Nobody that I know of.” He called reports of Russian contacts “a ruse,” and said, “I have nothing to do with Russia. Haven’t made a phone call to Russia in years. Don’t speak to people from Russia.” The next day, the Senate Intelligence Committee formally advised the White House to preserve all material that might shed light on contacts with Russian representatives; any effort to obscure those contacts could qualify as a crime.


Advertisement


By mid-February, law-enforcement and intelligence agencies had accumulated multiple examples of contacts between Russians and Trump’s associates, according to three current and former U.S. officials. Intercepted communications among Russian intelligence figures are said to include frequent reference to Paul Manafort, Trump’s campaign chairman for several months in 2016, who had previously worked as a political consultant in Ukraine. “Whether he knew it or not, Manafort was around Russian intelligence all the time,” one of the officials said. Investigators are likely to examine Trump and a range of his associates—Manafort; Flynn; Stone; a foreign policy adviser, Carter Page; the lawyer Michael Cohen—for potential illegal or unethical entanglements with Russian government or business representatives.

“To me, the question might finally come down to this,” Celeste Wallander, President Obama’s senior adviser on Russia, said. “Will Putin expose the failings of American democracy or will he inadvertently expose the strength of American democracy?”

The working theory among intelligence officials involved in the case is that the Russian approach—including hacking, propaganda, and contacts with Trump associates—was an improvisation rather than a long-standing plan. The official said, “After the election, there were a lot of Embassy communications”—to Moscow—“saying, stunned, ‘What we do now?’ ”

Initially, members of the Russian élite celebrated Clinton’s disappearance from the scene, and the new drift toward an America First populism that would leave Russia alone. The fall of Michael Flynn and the prospect of congressional hearings, though, have tempered the enthusiasm. Fyodor Lukyanov, the editor-in-chief of a leading foreign-policy journal in Moscow, said that Trump, facing pressure from congressional investigations, the press, and the intelligence agencies, might now have to be a far more “ordinary Republican President than was initially thought.” In other words, Trump might conclude that he no longer has the political latitude to end sanctions against Moscow and accommodate Russia’s geopolitical ambitions. As a sign of the shifting mood in Moscow, the Kremlin ordered Russian television outlets to be more reserved in their coverage of the new President.

Konstantin von Eggert, a political commentator and host on Russian television, heard from a friend at a state-owned media holding that an edict had arrived that, he said, “boiled down to one phrase: no more Trump.” The implicit message, von Eggert explained, “is not that there now should be negative coverage but that there should be much less, and more balanced.” The Kremlin has apparently decided, he said, that Russian state media risked looking “overly fawning in their attitude to Trump, that all this toasting and champagne drinking made us look silly, and so let’s forget about Trump for some time, lowering expectations as necessary, and then reinvent his image according to new realities.”

Alexey Venediktov, the editor-in-chief of Echo of Moscow, and a figure with deep contacts inside the Russian political élite, said, “Trump was attractive to people in Russia’s political establishment as a disturber of the peace for their counterparts in the American political establishment.” Venediktov suggested that, for Putin and those closest to him, any support that the Russian state provided to Trump’s candidacy was a move in a long-standing rivalry with the West; in Putin’s eyes, it is Russia’s most pressing strategic concern, one that predates Trump and will outlast him. Putin’s Russia has to come up with ways to make up for its economic and geopolitical weakness; its traditional levers of influence are limited, and, were it not for a formidable nuclear arsenal, it’s unclear how important a world power it would be. “So, well then, we have to create turbulence inside America itself,” Venediktov said. “A country that is beset by turbulence closes up on itself—and Russia’s hands are freed.” ♦


Advertisement


*An earlier version of this passage wrongly indicated that the U.S. is known to have funded Russian political parties.



Photographs: Yuri Smityuk/TASS/Getty; Spiegl/ullstein bild/Getty; Mikhail Metzel/TASS/Getty; from left to right: Vadim Ghirda/AP, Laski Diffusion/Getty, Lev Fedoseyev/TASS/Getty, Bulent Doruk/Anadolu Agency/Getty, Drew Angerer/Getty, Sergei Savostyanov/TASS/Getty, Filippo Monteforte/AFP/Getty, Aleksey Filippov/AFP/Getty
No reasonable analyst believes that Russia’s active measures in the United States and Europe have been the dominant force behind the ascent of Trump and nationalist politicians in Europe. Resentment of the effects of globalization and deindustrialization are far more important factors. But many Western Europeans do fear that the West and its postwar alliances and institutions are endangered, and that Trump, who has expressed doubts about NATO and showed allegiance to Brexit and similar anti-European movements, cannot be counted on. Although both Secretary of State Rex Tillerson and Defense Secretary James Mattis have expressed support for traditional alliances, Trump remains entirely uncritical of Putin. “Trump changes the situation from a NATO perspective,” General Shirreff said. “The great fear is the neutering of NATO and the decoupling of America from European security. If that happens, it gives Putin all kinds of opportunities. If Trump steps back the way he seemed to as a candidate, you might not even need to do things like invade the Baltic states. You can just dominate them anyway. You’re beginning to see the collapse of institutions built to insure our security. And if that happens you will see the re-nationalizing of Europe as a whole.”

“How long will Angela Merkel hold out against Donald Trump?” Stephen Sestanovich, who was an adviser on Russia to both the Reagan and the Clinton Administrations, asked. “She is already by herself in Europe. Putin is going to look like the preëminent power in Europe.” Der Spiegel published a startling editorial recently that reflected the general dismay in Europe, and the decline of American prestige since Trump’s election. The new President, it said, is becoming “a danger to the world” that Germany must stand up in opposition to.
Cartoon
“When Brooklyn became unaffordable, we moved to the Middle Ages.”

Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

Strobe Talbott, the former Clinton adviser, said, “There is a very real danger not only that we are going to lose a second Cold War—or have a redo and lose—but that the loss will be largely because of a perverse pal-ship, the almost unfathomable respect that Trump has for Putin.” Talbott believes that Trump, by showing so little regard for the institutions established by the political West in the past seventy years, is putting the world in danger. Asked what the consequences of “losing” such a conflict would be, Talbott said, “The not quite apocalyptic answer is that it is going to take years and years and years to get back to where we—we the United States and we the champions of the liberal world order—were as recently as five years ago.” An even graver scenario, Talbott said, would be an “unravelling,” in which we revert to “a dog-eat-dog world with constant instability and conflict even if it doesn’t go nuclear. But, with the proliferation of nuclear powers, it is easy to see it going that way, too.”

Andrei Kozyrev, who served as foreign minister in the Yeltsin government, now lives in Washington, D.C. He left Russia as it became increasingly authoritarian; he now sees a disturbingly similar pattern in his adopted country. “I am very concerned,” he said. “My fear is that this is probably the first time in my memory that it seems we have the same kind of people on both sides—in the Kremlin and in the White House. The same people. It’s probably why they like each other. It’s not a matter of policy, but it’s that they feel that they are alike. They care less for democracy and values, and more for personal success, however that is defined.”


Advertisement


Although the evidence for Russia’s interference appears convincing, it is too easy to allow such an account to become the master narrative of Trump’s ascent—a way to explain the presence of a man who is so alien and discomforting to so much of the population by rendering him in some way foreign. In truth, he is a phenomenon of America’s own making.

At the same time, Trump’s management style as President has been so chaotic, so improvisational, that the daily bonfire sometimes obscures what has been put in place. “Putin likes people like Tillerson, who do business and don’t talk about human rights,” one former Russian policy adviser said. The Trump Administration, notably, said nothing when a Russian court—the courts are well within Putin’s control—found Alexei Navalny, an anti-corruption campaigner and Putin’s only serious rival in next year’s Presidential election, guilty of a fraud charge that had already been overturned once, a conviction that may keep him out of the race. The Russians see friendly faces in the Administration. Tillerson, as the chairman of ExxonMobil, did “massive deals in Russia,” as Trump has put it. He formed an especially close relationship with Igor Sechin, who is among Putin’s closest advisers, and who has made a fortune as chief executive of the state oil consortium, Rosneft. Trump’s first national-security adviser, Michael Flynn, took a forty-thousand-dollar fee from the Russian propaganda station RT to appear at one of its dinners, where he sat next to Putin.

The Obama Administration, in its final days, had retaliated against Russian hacking by expelling thirty-five Russian officials and closing two diplomatic compounds. The Kremlin promised “reciprocal” punishment, and American intelligence took the first steps in sending new officials to Moscow to replace whoever would be expelled. “People were already on planes,” a U.S. intelligence official said. But on December 30th Putin said that he would not retaliate. To understand the abrupt reversal, American intelligence scrutinized communications involving Sergey Kislyak, Russia’s Ambassador to the U.S., and discovered that Flynn had had conversations with him, which touched on the future of economic sanctions. (Jared Kushner, Trump’s son-in-law, met with Kislyak in Trump Tower during the transition; the aim, according to the White House, was to establish “a more open line of communication in the future.”) Flynn was forced to resign when news broke that he had lied to Vice-President Mike Pence about these exchanges.

Trump has given risibly inconsistent accounts of his own ties to Russia. When he was in Moscow for the Miss Universe contest in 2013, and an interviewer for MSNBC asked him about Putin, he said, “I do have a relationship and I can tell you that he’s very interested in what we’re doing here today”; at a subsequent National Press Club luncheon, he recalled, “I spoke indirectly and directly with President Putin, who could not have been nicer.” During the Presidential campaign, he said, “I never met Putin, I don’t know who Putin is.” Trump has tweeted that he has “nothing to do with Russia”; in 2008, his son Donald, Jr., said that “Russians make up a pretty disproportionate cross-section of a lot of our assets.” At a news conference on February 16th, Trump was asked, again, if anyone in his campaign had been in contact with Russia, and he said, “Nobody that I know of.” He called reports of Russian contacts “a ruse,” and said, “I have nothing to do with Russia. Haven’t made a phone call to Russia in years. Don’t speak to people from Russia.” The next day, the Senate Intelligence Committee formally advised the White House to preserve all material that might shed light on contacts with Russian representatives; any effort to obscure those contacts could qualify as a crime.


Advertisement


By mid-February, law-enforcement and intelligence agencies had accumulated multiple examples of contacts between Russians and Trump’s associates, according to three current and former U.S. officials. Intercepted communications among Russian intelligence figures are said to include frequent reference to Paul Manafort, Trump’s campaign chairman for several months in 2016, who had previously worked as a political consultant in Ukraine. “Whether he knew it or not, Manafort was around Russian intelligence all the time,” one of the officials said. Investigators are likely to examine Trump and a range of his associates—Manafort; Flynn; Stone; a foreign policy adviser, Carter Page; the lawyer Michael Cohen—for potential illegal or unethical entanglements with Russian government or business representatives.

“To me, the question might finally come down to this,” Celeste Wallander, President Obama’s senior adviser on Russia, said. “Will Putin expose the failings of American democracy or will he inadvertently expose the strength of American democracy?”

The working theory among intelligence officials involved in the case is that the Russian approach—including hacking, propaganda, and contacts with Trump associates—was an improvisation rather than a long-standing plan. The official said, “After the election, there were a lot of Embassy communications”—to Moscow—“saying, stunned, ‘What we do now?’ ”

Initially, members of the Russian élite celebrated Clinton’s disappearance from the scene, and the new drift toward an America First populism that would leave Russia alone. The fall of Michael Flynn and the prospect of congressional hearings, though, have tempered the enthusiasm. Fyodor Lukyanov, the editor-in-chief of a leading foreign-policy journal in Moscow, said that Trump, facing pressure from congressional investigations, the press, and the intelligence agencies, might now have to be a far more “ordinary Republican President than was initially thought.” In other words, Trump might conclude that he no longer has the political latitude to end sanctions against Moscow and accommodate Russia’s geopolitical ambitions. As a sign of the shifting mood in Moscow, the Kremlin ordered Russian television outlets to be more reserved in their coverage of the new President.

Konstantin von Eggert, a political commentator and host on Russian television, heard from a friend at a state-owned media holding that an edict had arrived that, he said, “boiled down to one phrase: no more Trump.” The implicit message, von Eggert explained, “is not that there now should be negative coverage but that there should be much less, and more balanced.” The Kremlin has apparently decided, he said, that Russian state media risked looking “overly fawning in their attitude to Trump, that all this toasting and champagne drinking made us look silly, and so let’s forget about Trump for some time, lowering expectations as necessary, and then reinvent his image according to new realities.”

Alexey Venediktov, the editor-in-chief of Echo of Moscow, and a figure with deep contacts inside the Russian political élite, said, “Trump was attractive to people in Russia’s political establishment as a disturber of the peace for their counterparts in the American political establishment.” Venediktov suggested that, for Putin and those closest to him, any support that the Russian state provided to Trump’s candidacy was a move in a long-standing rivalry with the West; in Putin’s eyes, it is Russia’s most pressing strategic concern, one that predates Trump and will outlast him. Putin’s Russia has to come up with ways to make up for its economic and geopolitical weakness; its traditional levers of influence are limited, and, were it not for a formidable nuclear arsenal, it’s unclear how important a world power it would be. “So, well then, we have to create turbulence inside America itself,” Venediktov said. “A country that is beset by turbulence closes up on itself—and Russia’s hands are freed.” ♦


Advertisement


*An earlier version of this passage wrongly indicated that the U.S. is known to have funded Russian political parties.



Photographs: Yuri Smityuk/TASS/Getty; Spiegl/ullstein bild/Getty; Mikhail Metzel/TASS/Getty; from left to right: Vadim Ghirda/AP, Laski Diffusion/Getty, Lev Fedoseyev/TASS/Getty, Bulent Doruk/Anadolu Agency/Getty, Drew Angerer/Getty, Sergei Savostyanov/TASS/Getty, Filippo Monteforte/AFP/Getty, Aleksey Filippov/AFP/Getty
No reasonable analyst believes that Russia’s active measures in the United States and Europe have been the dominant force behind the ascent of Trump and nationalist politicians in Europe. Resentment of the effects of globalization and deindustrialization are far more important factors. But many Western Europeans do fear that the West and its postwar alliances and institutions are endangered, and that Trump, who has expressed doubts about NATO and showed allegiance to Brexit and similar anti-European movements, cannot be counted on. Although both Secretary of State Rex Tillerson and Defense Secretary James Mattis have expressed support for traditional alliances, Trump remains entirely uncritical of Putin. “Trump changes the situation from a NATO perspective,” General Shirreff said. “The great fear is the neutering of NATO and the decoupling of America from European security. If that happens, it gives Putin all kinds of opportunities. If Trump steps back the way he seemed to as a candidate, you might not even need to do things like invade the Baltic states. You can just dominate them anyway. You’re beginning to see the collapse of institutions built to insure our security. And if that happens you will see the re-nationalizing of Europe as a whole.”

“How long will Angela Merkel hold out against Donald Trump?” Stephen Sestanovich, who was an adviser on Russia to both the Reagan and the Clinton Administrations, asked. “She is already by herself in Europe. Putin is going to look like the preëminent power in Europe.” Der Spiegel published a startling editorial recently that reflected the general dismay in Europe, and the decline of American prestige since Trump’s election. The new President, it said, is becoming “a danger to the world” that Germany must stand up in opposition to.
Cartoon
“When Brooklyn became unaffordable, we moved to the Middle Ages.”

Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

Strobe Talbott, the former Clinton adviser, said, “There is a very real danger not only that we are going to lose a second Cold War—or have a redo and lose—but that the loss will be largely because of a perverse pal-ship, the almost unfathomable respect that Trump has for Putin.” Talbott believes that Trump, by showing so little regard for the institutions established by the political West in the past seventy years, is putting the world in danger. Asked what the consequences of “losing” such a conflict would be, Talbott said, “The not quite apocalyptic answer is that it is going to take years and years and years to get back to where we—we the United States and we the champions of the liberal world order—were as recently as five years ago.” An even graver scenario, Talbott said, would be an “unravelling,” in which we revert to “a dog-eat-dog world with constant instability and conflict even if it doesn’t go nuclear. But, with the proliferation of nuclear powers, it is easy to see it going that way, too.”

Andrei Kozyrev, who served as foreign minister in the Yeltsin government, now lives in Washington, D.C. He left Russia as it became increasingly authoritarian; he now sees a disturbingly similar pattern in his adopted country. “I am very concerned,” he said. “My fear is that this is probably the first time in my memory that it seems we have the same kind of people on both sides—in the Kremlin and in the White House. The same people. It’s probably why they like each other. It’s not a matter of policy, but it’s that they feel that they are alike. They care less for democracy and values, and more for personal success, however that is defined.”


Advertisement


Although the evidence for Russia’s interference appears convincing, it is too easy to allow such an account to become the master narrative of Trump’s ascent—a way to explain the presence of a man who is so alien and discomforting to so much of the population by rendering him in some way foreign. In truth, he is a phenomenon of America’s own making.

At the same time, Trump’s management style as President has been so chaotic, so improvisational, that the daily bonfire sometimes obscures what has been put in place. “Putin likes people like Tillerson, who do business and don’t talk about human rights,” one former Russian policy adviser said. The Trump Administration, notably, said nothing when a Russian court—the courts are well within Putin’s control—found Alexei Navalny, an anti-corruption campaigner and Putin’s only serious rival in next year’s Presidential election, guilty of a fraud charge that had already been overturned once, a conviction that may keep him out of the race. The Russians see friendly faces in the Administration. Tillerson, as the chairman of ExxonMobil, did “massive deals in Russia,” as Trump has put it. He formed an especially close relationship with Igor Sechin, who is among Putin’s closest advisers, and who has made a fortune as chief executive of the state oil consortium, Rosneft. Trump’s first national-security adviser, Michael Flynn, took a forty-thousand-dollar fee from the Russian propaganda station RT to appear at one of its dinners, where he sat next to Putin.

The Obama Administration, in its final days, had retaliated against Russian hacking by expelling thirty-five Russian officials and closing two diplomatic compounds. The Kremlin promised “reciprocal” punishment, and American intelligence took the first steps in sending new officials to Moscow to replace whoever would be expelled. “People were already on planes,” a U.S. intelligence official said. But on December 30th Putin said that he would not retaliate. To understand the abrupt reversal, American intelligence scrutinized communications involving Sergey Kislyak, Russia’s Ambassador to the U.S., and discovered that Flynn had had conversations with him, which touched on the future of economic sanctions. (Jared Kushner, Trump’s son-in-law, met with Kislyak in Trump Tower during the transition; the aim, according to the White House, was to establish “a more open line of communication in the future.”) Flynn was forced to resign when news broke that he had lied to Vice-President Mike Pence about these exchanges.

Trump has given risibly inconsistent accounts of his own ties to Russia. When he was in Moscow for the Miss Universe contest in 2013, and an interviewer for MSNBC asked him about Putin, he said, “I do have a relationship and I can tell you that he’s very interested in what we’re doing here today”; at a subsequent National Press Club luncheon, he recalled, “I spoke indirectly and directly with President Putin, who could not have been nicer.” During the Presidential campaign, he said, “I never met Putin, I don’t know who Putin is.” Trump has tweeted that he has “nothing to do with Russia”; in 2008, his son Donald, Jr., said that “Russians make up a pretty disproportionate cross-section of a lot of our assets.” At a news conference on February 16th, Trump was asked, again, if anyone in his campaign had been in contact with Russia, and he said, “Nobody that I know of.” He called reports of Russian contacts “a ruse,” and said, “I have nothing to do with Russia. Haven’t made a phone call to Russia in years. Don’t speak to people from Russia.” The next day, the Senate Intelligence Committee formally advised the White House to preserve all material that might shed light on contacts with Russian representatives; any effort to obscure those contacts could qualify as a crime.


Advertisement


By mid-February, law-enforcement and intelligence agencies had accumulated multiple examples of contacts between Russians and Trump’s associates, according to three current and former U.S. officials. Intercepted communications among Russian intelligence figures are said to include frequent reference to Paul Manafort, Trump’s campaign chairman for several months in 2016, who had previously worked as a political consultant in Ukraine. “Whether he knew it or not, Manafort was around Russian intelligence all the time,” one of the officials said. Investigators are likely to examine Trump and a range of his associates—Manafort; Flynn; Stone; a foreign policy adviser, Carter Page; the lawyer Michael Cohen—for potential illegal or unethical entanglements with Russian government or business representatives.

“To me, the question might finally come down to this,” Celeste Wallander, President Obama’s senior adviser on Russia, said. “Will Putin expose the failings of American democracy or will he inadvertently expose the strength of American democracy?”

The working theory among intelligence officials involved in the case is that the Russian approach—including hacking, propaganda, and contacts with Trump associates—was an improvisation rather than a long-standing plan. The official said, “After the election, there were a lot of Embassy communications”—to Moscow—“saying, stunned, ‘What we do now?’ ”

Initially, members of the Russian élite celebrated Clinton’s disappearance from the scene, and the new drift toward an America First populism that would leave Russia alone. The fall of Michael Flynn and the prospect of congressional hearings, though, have tempered the enthusiasm. Fyodor Lukyanov, the editor-in-chief of a leading foreign-policy journal in Moscow, said that Trump, facing pressure from congressional investigations, the press, and the intelligence agencies, might now have to be a far more “ordinary Republican President than was initially thought.” In other words, Trump might conclude that he no longer has the political latitude to end sanctions against Moscow and accommodate Russia’s geopolitical ambitions. As a sign of the shifting mood in Moscow, the Kremlin ordered Russian television outlets to be more reserved in their coverage of the new President.

Konstantin von Eggert, a political commentator and host on Russian television, heard from a friend at a state-owned media holding that an edict had arrived that, he said, “boiled down to one phrase: no more Trump.” The implicit message, von Eggert explained, “is not that there now should be negative coverage but that there should be much less, and more balanced.” The Kremlin has apparently decided, he said, that Russian state media risked looking “overly fawning in their attitude to Trump, that all this toasting and champagne drinking made us look silly, and so let’s forget about Trump for some time, lowering expectations as necessary, and then reinvent his image according to new realities.”

Alexey Venediktov, the editor-in-chief of Echo of Moscow, and a figure with deep contacts inside the Russian political élite, said, “Trump was attractive to people in Russia’s political establishment as a disturber of the peace for their counterparts in the American political establishment.” Venediktov suggested that, for Putin and those closest to him, any support that the Russian state provided to Trump’s candidacy was a move in a long-standing rivalry with the West; in Putin’s eyes, it is Russia’s most pressing strategic concern, one that predates Trump and will outlast him. Putin’s Russia has to come up with ways to make up for its economic and geopolitical weakness; its traditional levers of influence are limited, and, were it not for a formidable nuclear arsenal, it’s unclear how important a world power it would be. “So, well then, we have to create turbulence inside America itself,” Venediktov said. “A country that is beset by turbulence closes up on itself—and Russia’s hands are freed.” ♦


Advertisement


*An earlier version of this passage wrongly indicated that the U.S. is known to have funded Russian political parties.



Photographs: Yuri Smityuk/TASS/Getty; Spiegl/ullstein bild/Getty; Mikhail Metzel/TASS/Getty; from left to right: Vadim Ghirda/AP, Laski Diffusion/Getty, Lev Fedoseyev/TASS/Getty, Bulent Doruk/Anadolu Agency/Getty, Drew Angerer/Getty, Sergei Savostyanov/TASS/Getty, Filippo Monteforte/AFP/Getty, Aleksey Filippov/AFP/Getty
No reasonable analyst believes that Russia’s active measures in the United States and Europe have been the dominant force behind the ascent of Trump and nationalist politicians in Europe. Resentment of the effects of globalization and deindustrialization are far more important factors. But many Western Europeans do fear that the West and its postwar alliances and institutions are endangered, and that Trump, who has expressed doubts about NATO and showed allegiance to Brexit and similar anti-European movements, cannot be counted on. Although both Secretary of State Rex Tillerson and Defense Secretary James Mattis have expressed support for traditional alliances, Trump remains entirely uncritical of Putin. “Trump changes the situation from a NATO perspective,” General Shirreff said. “The great fear is the neutering of NATO and the decoupling of America from European security. If that happens, it gives Putin all kinds of opportunities. If Trump steps back the way he seemed to as a candidate, you might not even need to do things like invade the Baltic states. You can just dominate them anyway. You’re beginning to see the collapse of institutions built to insure our security. And if that happens you will see the re-nationalizing of Europe as a whole.”

“How long will Angela Merkel hold out against Donald Trump?” Stephen Sestanovich, who was an adviser on Russia to both the Reagan and the Clinton Administrations, asked. “She is already by herself in Europe. Putin is going to look like the preëminent power in Europe.” Der Spiegel published a startling editorial recently that reflected the general dismay in Europe, and the decline of American prestige since Trump’s election. The new President, it said, is becoming “a danger to the world” that Germany must stand up in opposition to.
Cartoon
“When Brooklyn became unaffordable, we moved to the Middle Ages.”

Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

Strobe Talbott, the former Clinton adviser, said, “There is a very real danger not only that we are going to lose a second Cold War—or have a redo and lose—but that the loss will be largely because of a perverse pal-ship, the almost unfathomable respect that Trump has for Putin.” Talbott believes that Trump, by showing so little regard for the institutions established by the political West in the past seventy years, is putting the world in danger. Asked what the consequences of “losing” such a conflict would be, Talbott said, “The not quite apocalyptic answer is that it is going to take years and years and years to get back to where we—we the United States and we the champions of the liberal world order—were as recently as five years ago.” An even graver scenario, Talbott said, would be an “unravelling,” in which we revert to “a dog-eat-dog world with constant instability and conflict even if it doesn’t go nuclear. But, with the proliferation of nuclear powers, it is easy to see it going that way, too.”

Andrei Kozyrev, who served as foreign minister in the Yeltsin government, now lives in Washington, D.C. He left Russia as it became increasingly authoritarian; he now sees a disturbingly similar pattern in his adopted country. “I am very concerned,” he said. “My fear is that this is probably the first time in my memory that it seems we have the same kind of people on both sides—in the Kremlin and in the White House. The same people. It’s probably why they like each other. It’s not a matter of policy, but it’s that they feel that they are alike. They care less for democracy and values, and more for personal success, however that is defined.”


Advertisement


Although the evidence for Russia’s interference appears convincing, it is too easy to allow such an account to become the master narrative of Trump’s ascent—a way to explain the presence of a man who is so alien and discomforting to so much of the population by rendering him in some way foreign. In truth, he is a phenomenon of America’s own making.

At the same time, Trump’s management style as President has been so chaotic, so improvisational, that the daily bonfire sometimes obscures what has been put in place. “Putin likes people like Tillerson, who do business and don’t talk about human rights,” one former Russian policy adviser said. The Trump Administration, notably, said nothing when a Russian court—the courts are well within Putin’s control—found Alexei Navalny, an anti-corruption campaigner and Putin’s only serious rival in next year’s Presidential election, guilty of a fraud charge that had already been overturned once, a conviction that may keep him out of the race. The Russians see friendly faces in the Administration. Tillerson, as the chairman of ExxonMobil, did “massive deals in Russia,” as Trump has put it. He formed an especially close relationship with Igor Sechin, who is among Putin’s closest advisers, and who has made a fortune as chief executive of the state oil consortium, Rosneft. Trump’s first national-security adviser, Michael Flynn, took a forty-thousand-dollar fee from the Russian propaganda station RT to appear at one of its dinners, where he sat next to Putin.

The Obama Administration, in its final days, had retaliated against Russian hacking by expelling thirty-five Russian officials and closing two diplomatic compounds. The Kremlin promised “reciprocal” punishment, and American intelligence took the first steps in sending new officials to Moscow to replace whoever would be expelled. “People were already on planes,” a U.S. intelligence official said. But on December 30th Putin said that he would not retaliate. To understand the abrupt reversal, American intelligence scrutinized communications involving Sergey Kislyak, Russia’s Ambassador to the U.S., and discovered that Flynn had had conversations with him, which touched on the future of economic sanctions. (Jared Kushner, Trump’s son-in-law, met with Kislyak in Trump Tower during the transition; the aim, according to the White House, was to establish “a more open line of communication in the future.”) Flynn was forced to resign when news broke that he had lied to Vice-President Mike Pence about these exchanges.

Trump has given risibly inconsistent accounts of his own ties to Russia. When he was in Moscow for the Miss Universe contest in 2013, and an interviewer for MSNBC asked him about Putin, he said, “I do have a relationship and I can tell you that he’s very interested in what we’re doing here today”; at a subsequent National Press Club luncheon, he recalled, “I spoke indirectly and directly with President Putin, who could not have been nicer.” During the Presidential campaign, he said, “I never met Putin, I don’t know who Putin is.” Trump has tweeted that he has “nothing to do with Russia”; in 2008, his son Donald, Jr., said that “Russians make up a pretty disproportionate cross-section of a lot of our assets.” At a news conference on February 16th, Trump was asked, again, if anyone in his campaign had been in contact with Russia, and he said, “Nobody that I know of.” He called reports of Russian contacts “a ruse,” and said, “I have nothing to do with Russia. Haven’t made a phone call to Russia in years. Don’t speak to people from Russia.” The next day, the Senate Intelligence Committee formally advised the White House to preserve all material that might shed light on contacts with Russian representatives; any effort to obscure those contacts could qualify as a crime.


Advertisement


By mid-February, law-enforcement and intelligence agencies had accumulated multiple examples of contacts between Russians and Trump’s associates, according to three current and former U.S. officials. Intercepted communications among Russian intelligence figures are said to include frequent reference to Paul Manafort, Trump’s campaign chairman for several months in 2016, who had previously worked as a political consultant in Ukraine. “Whether he knew it or not, Manafort was around Russian intelligence all the time,” one of the officials said. Investigators are likely to examine Trump and a range of his associates—Manafort; Flynn; Stone; a foreign policy adviser, Carter Page; the lawyer Michael Cohen—for potential illegal or unethical entanglements with Russian government or business representatives.

“To me, the question might finally come down to this,” Celeste Wallander, President Obama’s senior adviser on Russia, said. “Will Putin expose the failings of American democracy or will he inadvertently expose the strength of American democracy?”

The working theory among intelligence officials involved in the case is that the Russian approach—including hacking, propaganda, and contacts with Trump associates—was an improvisation rather than a long-standing plan. The official said, “After the election, there were a lot of Embassy communications”—to Moscow—“saying, stunned, ‘What we do now?’ ”

Initially, members of the Russian élite celebrated Clinton’s disappearance from the scene, and the new drift toward an America First populism that would leave Russia alone. The fall of Michael Flynn and the prospect of congressional hearings, though, have tempered the enthusiasm. Fyodor Lukyanov, the editor-in-chief of a leading foreign-policy journal in Moscow, said that Trump, facing pressure from congressional investigations, the press, and the intelligence agencies, might now have to be a far more “ordinary Republican President than was initially thought.” In other words, Trump might conclude that he no longer has the political latitude to end sanctions against Moscow and accommodate Russia’s geopolitical ambitions. As a sign of the shifting mood in Moscow, the Kremlin ordered Russian television outlets to be more reserved in their coverage of the new President.

Konstantin von Eggert, a political commentator and host on Russian television, heard from a friend at a state-owned media holding that an edict had arrived that, he said, “boiled down to one phrase: no more Trump.” The implicit message, von Eggert explained, “is not that there now should be negative coverage but that there should be much less, and more balanced.” The Kremlin has apparently decided, he said, that Russian state media risked looking “overly fawning in their attitude to Trump, that all this toasting and champagne drinking made us look silly, and so let’s forget about Trump for some time, lowering expectations as necessary, and then reinvent his image according to new realities.”

Alexey Venediktov, the editor-in-chief of Echo of Moscow, and a figure with deep contacts inside the Russian political élite, said, “Trump was attractive to people in Russia’s political establishment as a disturber of the peace for their counterparts in the American political establishment.” Venediktov suggested that, for Putin and those closest to him, any support that the Russian state provided to Trump’s candidacy was a move in a long-standing rivalry with the West; in Putin’s eyes, it is Russia’s most pressing strategic concern, one that predates Trump and will outlast him. Putin’s Russia has to come up with ways to make up for its economic and geopolitical weakness; its traditional levers of influence are limited, and, were it not for a formidable nuclear arsenal, it’s unclear how important a world power it would be. “So, well then, we have to create turbulence inside America itself,” Venediktov said. “A country that is beset by turbulence closes up on itself—and Russia’s hands are freed.” ♦


Advertisement


*An earlier version of this passage wrongly indicated that the U.S. is known to have funded Russian political parties.



Photographs: Yuri Smityuk/TASS/Getty; Spiegl/ullstein bild/Getty; Mikhail Metzel/TASS/Getty; from left to right: Vadim Ghirda/AP, Laski Diffusion/Getty, Lev Fedoseyev/TASS/Getty, Bulent Doruk/Anadolu Agency/Getty, Drew Angerer/Getty, Sergei Savostyanov/TASS/Getty, Filippo Monteforte/AFP/Getty, Aleksey Filippov/AFP/Getty
No reasonable analyst believes that Russia’s active measures in the United States and Europe have been the dominant force behind the ascent of Trump and nationalist politicians in Europe. Resentment of the effects of globalization and deindustrialization are far more important factors. But many Western Europeans do fear that the West and its postwar alliances and institutions are endangered, and that Trump, who has expressed doubts about NATO and showed allegiance to Brexit and similar anti-European movements, cannot be counted on. Although both Secretary of State Rex Tillerson and Defense Secretary James Mattis have expressed support for traditional alliances, Trump remains entirely uncritical of Putin. “Trump changes the situation from a NATO perspective,” General Shirreff said. “The great fear is the neutering of NATO and the decoupling of America from European security. If that happens, it gives Putin all kinds of opportunities. If Trump steps back the way he seemed to as a candidate, you might not even need to do things like invade the Baltic states. You can just dominate them anyway. You’re beginning to see the collapse of institutions built to insure our security. And if that happens you will see the re-nationalizing of Europe as a whole.”

“How long will Angela Merkel hold out against Donald Trump?” Stephen Sestanovich, who was an adviser on Russia to both the Reagan and the Clinton Administrations, asked. “She is already by herself in Europe. Putin is going to look like the preëminent power in Europe.” Der Spiegel published a startling editorial recently that reflected the general dismay in Europe, and the decline of American prestige since Trump’s election. The new President, it said, is becoming “a danger to the world” that Germany must stand up in opposition to.
Cartoon
“When Brooklyn became unaffordable, we moved to the Middle Ages.”

Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

Strobe Talbott, the former Clinton adviser, said, “There is a very real danger not only that we are going to lose a second Cold War—or have a redo and lose—but that the loss will be largely because of a perverse pal-ship, the almost unfathomable respect that Trump has for Putin.” Talbott believes that Trump, by showing so little regard for the institutions established by the political West in the past seventy years, is putting the world in danger. Asked what the consequences of “losing” such a conflict would be, Talbott said, “The not quite apocalyptic answer is that it is going to take years and years and years to get back to where we—we the United States and we the champions of the liberal world order—were

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhaustedcame back on fully and they emerged fro
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t disappoint him. First taking it between her soft moist lips and then sliding right down it almost up to his nut sack. Even after the first suck, he was ready to cum but he also wanted to feel it his dick forcing its way deep inside her body. Before she could bring him to the boiling point he pulled away and moved so that he was partially behind her holding onto her tits as he rammed it in.

The mattresses rocked precariously as he pounded her pussy grunting and groaning as he did so. When he was about to cum he began to yell out “Fuck” over and over again and she joined in.

Their bodies were both perspiring, their nerve endings felt like as if they were on fire as it became more and more intense and Colin shot his load. He held onto her as tight and he could and kept ramming his dick into her as she made little whimpering sounds and brought her hand back to feel his ass.

They lay there in each other’s arms until the lights began to flicker and then they picked up their clothes and started to dress. As Aime pulled up her panties she looked at him and smiled, “We’re not going to do this every night are we?”

“Only if there’s a thunder storm,” he laughed, “But I do have a great stereo system at my place – if you’d like to come round for dinner – I can put on a sound effects CD and we can pretend there’s a storm.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, straightening her skirt, “Now I think we’d better get back to work.”

When the lights came back on fully and they emerged from their hide-away they both stood frozen to the spot as hundreds of mattresses had disappeared and a cool breeze was blowing in through the big open doors of the warehouse. THE END
Aime Sullivan wanted to work at something interesting during her break from college but she ended up as a security guard in a mattress factory. It was a case of beggars can’t be choosers.

She did rather like the uniform which was pale blue with a white trim but the sensible shoes were a bit too sensible. When she put them on for her first shift she felt like a deep sea diver.

Her parents weren’t too happy about her working nights in the vast warehouse but Aime, who had taken two judo lessons, ensured them that she would be OK. Anyway, she was not working alone she was on duty with a certain Colin Clewes, who she had never met but was told he was a seasoned veteran of some three years.

When she clocked into the guardroom she was half expecting an older man, probably someone who’d retired from the regular job and were just filling in time until they died but she got a shock. Colin was about 24, tall, dark and fucking good looking. Not only that he was polite and shook her hand warmly when they were introduced.

He explained to her that one of them had to make rounds of the warehouse every hour and make a note at what time you covered certain points. The other one simply stayed in the guard room and watched the monitors that covered the outside entrances.

All went well for the first hour and then a thunderstorm broke loose and all the lights and monitors went out. There were some small emergency lights that ran on a battery in the guard room area but the rest of that big warehouse, stacked from floor to ceiling with mattresses was pitch black.

“There’s no point in anyone watching the dead monitors,” he said, “So I think we should make the points together, you wouldn’t know where to find them in the dark anyway.”

Armed with a very large flashlight they started off on their first round. Colin turned out to have a good sense of humor and every so often he’d stick the light under his chin so that it looked like a head floating in the darkness. Aime could see right away that it wasn’t going to be dull working with him.

It was a little bit spooky walking down those narrow avenues of piled up mattresses but he took her mind off it with a few jokes and occasionally he’d grab her hand and guide her through some spot that was hazardous in some way. She knew that he probably knew every twist, turn, and mattress in the place but she was beginning to suspect his intentions as the hazardous areas became more frequent.

Colin was as happy as a sand-boy, his previous companion had been a rather grumpy retired school teacher that was always picking him up on his grammar. Now he had a 20-year-old redhead with a body to die for and a bubbly personality. What more could a seasoned security guard ask for?

“I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this but we sometimes cheat a little on this job,” he said, taking her hand once again.

“What do you mean cheat?”

“Well early in the shift it’s statistically unlikely that anyone will break-in, thieves usually make their move in the early hours of the morning when there are very few people about outside, and so we sometimes do a quick round, space out the times on the sheet and take a nap for an hour.”

“What if there’s a fire or something?”

“No need to worry there’s a sprinkler system.”

“So where do you sleep?”

“Just follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led her between two stacks of mattresses to a metal door.

“This is a little annex,” he said, “They store some damaged product in here it’s quite cozy.”

Colin invited her into his little lair hanging his flashlight on a bolt sticking out of the wall and flung himself on to a pile of single mattresses. He lay back in a relaxed position to show her how comfy it was.

“I usually nod off for close to an hour, I’ve sort of trained myself to wake up on time – I’ve never overslept yet,” he laughed.

Aime climbed up and lay beside him wondering if she would wake up in time if she tried it. Just then a giant clap of thunder rattled the metal structure of the warehouse and she grabbed on to his hand and held onto it tight. The second clap caused her to put her arms around him and bury her head into his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, “It’s only thunder.”

He’d only just got the words out of his mouth when the building shook as if it had been hit by a bomb. Now they were for all purposes in a real one hundred percent embrace and feeling her warm body next to his began to have an effect on his dick. It began to get hard.

As Aime didn’t seem to be in a hurry to break away, even though the thunder had subsided, they just lay there and with their faces so close together it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss. She had soft moist lips and Colin’s dick got harder and harder and she could feel it poking her.

It was completely out of character for her but she found herself getting horny and hoping that he’d quickly make the next move. When he didn’t she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Colin took in a huge gulp of air and then very gently stroked them. This led him to unbutton her top and slide his hand under her lacy bra.

When he felt those soft warm tits and hardened nipples he began to breathe a little heavy and so did she. It wasn’t long before they had both stripped off and were lying there naked. Colin was kissing her beautiful body all over and she was running her finger nails up and down his back.

When he moved down the mattress and put his face between her thighs she began to twitch with eager anticipation, and then it came, his tongue began to play with the pink folds. She swallowed hard as visions of his dick penetrating her now wet cunt flashed across her mind. Colin seemed to know instinctively what would please her and he licked up and down the side of her lips just touching them lightly. It wasn’t long before her trembling turned into full-scale shaking and she yelled as she enjoyed a powerful breathtaking orgasm. It seemed to go on and on until she was quite exhausted.

Colin’s dick was standing up like a fence post and he was longing for her to take it in her mouth. She didn’t di

U.S. is known to have funded Russian political parties.
affect a fallen power and would-be partner. Clinton and his advisers were aware that reactionary political forces in Russia—the so-called “red-brown coalition” of diehard Communists and resurgent nationalists—viewed the United States as exploitative and triumphalist and hoped to gain control of the state.

In 1996, during a summit meeting in Moscow, Clinton went for an early-morning run with Talbott in the Sparrow Hills, near Moscow State University. Clinton had known Talbott since they were students at Oxford, and confided his anxiety. He did not regret the expansion of NATO or the decision, at last, to battle Serbian forces in Bosnia. But he knew that he was making Yeltsin’s political life excruciatingly difficult.

“We keep telling ol’ Boris, ‘O.K., now, here’s what you’ve got to do next—here’s some more shit for your face,’ ” Clinton told Talbott as they ran. “And that makes it real hard for him, given what he’s up against and who he’s dealing with.”

Earlier that year, Yeltsin had summoned Talbott. “I don’t like it when the U.S. flaunts its superiority,” he told him. “Russia’s difficulties are only temporary, and not only because we have nuclear weapons but also because of our economy, our culture, our spiritual strength. All that amounts to a legitimate, undeniable basis for equal treatment. Russia will rise again! I repeat: Russia will rise again.”

When the 1996 election season began, Yeltsin was polling in the single digits. Much of the country held him responsible for economic measures that seemed to help only those close to Kremlin power. For millions, reform—including the “shock therapy” pushed by Western advisers and politicians—meant a collapse in basic services, hyperinflation, corruption, kleptocratic privatization, and an economic downturn as severe as the Great Depression. Most Russians blamed not the corrosion of the old system but, rather, the corruptions of the new. Demokratiya (democracy) was popularly referred to as dermokratiya (shit-ocracy). Yeltsin, benefitting from the support of both the oligarchs and the International Monetary Fund, managed to eke out a victory against his Communist opponent, but he continued to drink heavily, despite a history of heart attacks, and, in his final years in power, was often a sorry, inebriated spectacle.

On New Year’s Eve, 1999, Yeltsin appeared on national television sitting in front of a Christmas tree. Looking blocky and moribund, he said that he was resigning. “I am sorry that many of our dreams failed to come true,” he said. “I am sorry that I did not live up to the hopes of people who believed that we could, with a single effort, a single strong push, jump out of the gray, stagnant, totalitarian past and into a bright, wealthy, civilized future. I used to believe that myself.”

A man who had resisted a coup eight years earlier no longer had the endurance for office or the political imagination to advance the cause. “I have done all I could,” he said. “A new generation is coming.” With that, he appointed as his successor Vladimir Putin, a relatively obscure intelligence agent who had been accelerated through the ranks because he had proved himself disciplined, shrewd, and, above all, loyal to his bosses.


Advertisement


One of Putin’s first decrees was to protect Yeltsin from future prosecution. Then he set out to stabilize the country and put it on a course of traditional Russian autocracy. “As Yeltsin started to withdraw, the old system reconsolidated, and Putin finalized this regression,” Andrei Kozyrev, the foreign minister between 1990 and 1996, said. “The fundamental problem was an inability to complete the economic and political reforms, and so we slipped back into confrontation with the West and NATO.”

Putin revealed his distrust for an open system almost immediately. He saw a state that had become barely functional, and he set about restoring its authority the only way he knew how: manually, and from the top. He replaced the freewheeling anarchy of Yeltsin’s rule with something more systematized, casting aside or coöpting the oligarchs of the nineteen-nineties and elevating a cast of corrupt satraps loyal to him—an arrangement that became known as Kremlin, Inc. Every aspect of the country’s political life, including the media, was brought under the “vertical of power” that he constructed. When Yeltsin held office, privately owned television stations, such as NTV, reported on the horrific war in Chechnya and even satirized Yeltsin and other Kremlin leaders on a puppet show called “Kukly.” NTV, which was owned by an oligarch named Vladimir Gusinsky, seemed to test Putin in the beginning, airing discussions about corruption and human-rights abuses; “Kukly” added a puppet depicting the new President. Putin was not amused. Within five months of taking power, he dispatched armed Interior Ministry troops to raid Gusinsky’s headquarters; by 2001, Gusinsky had been forced to give up NTV to more obedient owners and had fled the country. Ever since, television has been under strict federal control.

Putin, in his first few years in office, was relatively solicitous of the West. He was the first foreign leader to call George W. Bush after the destruction of the World Trade Center towers. When he spoke at the Bundestag, later that month, he addressed its members in German, the language that he had spoken as a K.G.B. agent in Dresden. He even entertained the notion of Russian membership in NATO.

America’s invasion of Iraq, which Putin opposed, marked a change in his thinking. Bush had made some progress with him on bilateral issues such as nuclear-arms proliferation, but by 2007 Putin had grown deeply disenchanted and came to feel that the West was treating Russia as a “vassal.” Robert Gates recalls a security conference, in Munich, in 2007, at which Putin angrily charged that the United States had “overstepped its national borders in every area” and that the expansion of NATO was directed against Russian interests. “People were inclined to pass it off as a one-off,” Gates said. “But it was a harbinger.”

For Putin, it was a story of misplaced hopes and rejection: he became convinced that, no matter how accommodating he might try to be, Western powers—the United States, above all—had an innate disinclination to treat Russia as a full partner and a respected member of the international order. At home, Putin was increasingly drawn to an authoritarian, nationalist conception of the Russian state. He knew that the fall of Communism and Soviet power had left a vacuum—the lack of a “national idea” to replace Marxism-Leninism. When Putin returned to the Presidency for a third term, in 2012, he felt the need to develop a Russian ideology of his own, and called on currents that run deep in Russian political culture: nationalism, xenophobia, and social conservatism. When, four years ago, Putin endorsed anti-gay legislation, for instance, he was playing to entrenched conservative prejudices that predate Soviet Communism—perhaps not for Western-oriented intellectuals and the urban middle class but for many millions of others.


Advertisement


Putin was hardly surprised by the liberal umbrage voiced by the Obama Administration and other Western governments. That confrontation was the point, a means of cementing his authority at home by playing up the notion of an encircled, perpetually menaced Russian state. Although Putin grew up under Soviet atheism, he nonetheless decried secular Americans and Europeans for “rejecting their roots, including the Christian values that constitute the basis of Western civilization.” His conservatism, he insisted, “prevents movement backward and downward, into chaotic darkness and a return to a primitive state.”

He was alarmed by the Obama Administration’s embrace of the uprisings in Tunisia and Egypt. And he was infuriated by the U.S.-led assault on Muammar Qaddafi’s regime. In early 2011, as Libyans challenged Qaddafi, Putin was ostensibly offstage, serving as Prime Minister; his protégé Dmitry Medvedev was President, and made a crucial decision not to veto an American-backed U.N. Security Council resolution in favor of military action in Libya. In a rare public split, Putin condemned the decision, comparing the resolution to a “medieval call to the crusades.” In October, 2011, a crowd of Libyans found Qaddafi hiding in a culvert with a gold-plated 9-mm. pistol, dragged him out, and killed him—a gruesome event that was broadcast worldwide. From Putin’s perspective, this was a case study in Western intervention: stir up protests, give them rhetorical support and diplomatic cover, and, if that doesn’t work, send in the fighter jets. The epilogue comes in the form of uncontrollable violence and an inglorious end for the country’s leader. According to Mikhail Zygar, the former editor-in-chief of the independent Internet station TV Rain and the author of “All the Kremlin’s Men,” Putin absorbed the death of Qaddafi as an object lesson: weakness and compromise were impermissible. “When he was a pariah, no one touched him,” Zygar wrote. “But as soon as he opened up he was not only overthrown but killed in the street like a mangy old cur.”
Cartoon


Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

Putin also regarded the anti-Kremlin, pro-democracy demonstrations in Moscow, which started in 2011, as a rehearsal for an uprising that had to be thwarted. Together with the upheavals abroad, they compounded his grievances against the West. Obama’s national-security adviser at the time, Tom Donilon, observed that Putin’s concerns were then focussed on domestic political stability and perceived foreign threats to it. He was convinced that “there were efforts under way to undermine his regime,” Donilon said. “From the outset of his second run as President, in my judgment, he was bringing Russia to a posture of pretty active hostility toward the United States and the West.” In September, 2013, after Putin declined requests to turn over Edward Snowden, Obama cancelled a planned summit in Moscow. “The communication really broke after that,” Donilon said. He saw Putin steadily remove non-intelligence personnel from his orbit. “In sharp contrast to the Chinese situation, there’s not a Russian national-security ‘system,’ ” he said. “He works with a very small group of individuals, namely, former K.G.B. and F.S.B. people.”

Dissent has now been effectively marginalized. Opposition candidates are frequently kept off the ballot on legal technicalities, and, when they do make it on, they are denied media coverage, let alone the “administrative resources” enjoyed by pro-Kremlin politicians. Some thirty journalists have been murdered in Russia in the past decade and a half; human-rights groups that receive funding from abroad are registered in Moscow as “foreign agents.” And contemporary Russian television is not only compliant but celebratory. “Imagine you have two dozen TV channels and it is all Fox News,” Vladimir Milov, a former deputy energy minister under Putin and now a critic, said.


Advertisement


Yet those channels bear little resemblance to the dreary Soviet broadcasts with their stilted language and shabby production values. Just as Putin no longer fills prison camps with countless “enemies of the people,” as Stalin did, but, rather, makes a chilling example of a famous few, like the businessman Mikhail Khodorkovsky or the group Pussy Riot, his propagandists have taken their cue from foreign forms: magazine shows, shout-fests, game shows, and reality shows. There are many figures in public life who are not permitted to appear on any talk show or news program. Russians can still find independent information on Facebook and various Web sites; critical books and magazines are available in stores and online; Echo of Moscow, a liberal radio station, hangs on. But, even in the Internet era, more than eighty per cent of Russians get their news from television. Manipulation of TV coverage is a crucial factor in Putin’s extraordinarily high popularity ratings, typically in excess of eighty per cent—ratings that Donald Trump both admires and envies.

In October, 2012, on the occasion of Putin’s sixtieth birthday, Dmitry Kiselyov, the host of “News of the Week,” a favorite TV show of Putin’s, delivered a long encomium to the President: “In terms of the scope of his activities, Putin can be compared to only one of his predecessors in the twentieth century—Stalin.” NTV aired a documentary, “Visiting Putin,” that sent a broadcaster to his office and his house on the outskirts of Moscow. Although well-informed critics have said that Putin is worth tens of billions of dollars and has twenty residences at his disposal, the program portrayed him as a near-ascetic, who wakes at eight-thirty, lifts weights, swims long distances, eats a modest breakfast (beet juice, porridge, raw quail eggs), and works deep into the night.

“All these TV genres emphasize the stature of Putin, as being above everybody and everything—not just the ultimate boss but the embodiment of Russian statehood,” Masha Lipman, the editor of the journal Counterpoint, said. The most important political space is not the grounds of the Kremlin. It is the space within the President’s skull.

“A well-known person once said, ‘You can get much farther with a kind word and a Smith & Wesson than you can with just a kind word,’ ” Putin says in “President,” a long documentary that aired on state television in 2015. “Unfortunately, he was right.” Later in the documentary, the host asks Putin if he thinks that the West fears Russia, because a “once failing state” is now “suddenly a powerful political player.” He calls Putin “the leader, if I may say, of the conservative part of both European and American society.”

Putin accepts both premises. “The so-called establishment, the political and economic élites of these countries, they like us only when we are poor and standing there with a beggar’s bowl,” he says. “As soon as we start talking about our interests and they start feeling some element of geopolitical competition, well, they don’t like that.”

In February, 2014, hours after President Victor Yanukovych of Ukraine, weakened by months of protests, fled Kiev, Putin made the decision to invade Crimea. He feared that Ukraine would turn its back on Russia and gravitate toward Europe. It was a way for Putin to signal, loudly and rudely, that he was finished going along with the Western-led order. It was personal as well. Michael Morell, a former deputy director of the C.I.A., said that the fall of Yanukovych led Putin to worry about his own power and well-being. “It happened in the heart of the Slavic world, and he could not allow it to become a precedent for a similar movement in Russia against him,” Morell said. “He had to crush it.”




































Advertisement


Putin and members of his circle also saw the Syrian civil war as an opportunity to halt a trend that had started with the invasion of Iraq and continued through the downfall of dictators in Egypt and Libya. A former senior U.S. official who has interacted with Russians said, “There was this period of time when the United States, in Putin’s view, was able to use international institutions to take on regimes that we found offensive, right through Libya, and Putin was determined to put a stake in the ground in Syria, to have Russia be at the table, and be able to resist the international community’s efforts to continue this pattern of conduct.” As Russia’s Defense Minister, Sergey Shoigu, remarked last month, Russia’s intervention in Syria “helped solve the geopolitical task of breaking the chain of ‘color revolutions.’ ” Russian television, of course, covered the siege of Aleppo as an enlightened act of liberation, free of any brutality or abuses.

In the United States, the issue of what to do about Russia was a growing point of contention between the Pentagon and the White House. Ukraine’s government wanted advanced weaponry to help battle Russian-backed rebels. Evelyn Farkas, the Pentagon’s most senior policy officer for Russia, strongly supported the request; Obama and others on his national-security team turned it down. Instead, the U.S. provided “nonlethal” aid, including vehicles, radar, and body armor. In testimony before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, in 2014, Farkas argued for greater American force, calling Russia’s actions “an affront to the international order that we and our allies have worked to build since the end of the Cold War.”

The Administration believed, with considerable justification, that escalating the conflict would provoke retaliation from Russia, push Putin into a corner, and—since Putin would never let the rebels suffer a battlefield defeat
affect a fallen power and would-be partner. Clinton and his advisers were aware that reactionary political forces in Russia—the so-called “red-brown coalition” of diehard Communists and resurgent nationalists—viewed the United States as exploitative and triumphalist and hoped to gain control of the state.

In 1996, during a summit meeting in Moscow, Clinton went for an early-morning run with Talbott in the Sparrow Hills, near Moscow State University. Clinton had known Talbott since they were students at Oxford, and confided his anxiety. He did not regret the expansion of NATO or the decision, at last, to battle Serbian forces in Bosnia. But he knew that he was making Yeltsin’s political life excruciatingly difficult.

“We keep telling ol’ Boris, ‘O.K., now, here’s what you’ve got to do next—here’s some more shit for your face,’ ” Clinton told Talbott as they ran. “And that makes it real hard for him, given what he’s up against and who he’s dealing with.”

Earlier that year, Yeltsin had summoned Talbott. “I don’t like it when the U.S. flaunts its superiority,” he told him. “Russia’s difficulties are only temporary, and not only because we have nuclear weapons but also because of our economy, our culture, our spiritual strength. All that amounts to a legitimate, undeniable basis for equal treatment. Russia will rise again! I repeat: Russia will rise again.”

When the 1996 election season began, Yeltsin was polling in the single digits. Much of the country held him responsible for economic measures that seemed to help only those close to Kremlin power. For millions, reform—including the “shock therapy” pushed by Western advisers and politicians—meant a collapse in basic services, hyperinflation, corruption, kleptocratic privatization, and an economic downturn as severe as the Great Depression. Most Russians blamed not the corrosion of the old system but, rather, the corruptions of the new. Demokratiya (democracy) was popularly referred to as dermokratiya (shit-ocracy). Yeltsin, benefitting from the support of both the oligarchs and the International Monetary Fund, managed to eke out a victory against his Communist opponent, but he continued to drink heavily, despite a history of heart attacks, and, in his final years in power, was often a sorry, inebriated spectacle.

On New Year’s Eve, 1999, Yeltsin appeared on national television sitting in front of a Christmas tree. Looking blocky and moribund, he said that he was resigning. “I am sorry that many of our dreams failed to come true,” he said. “I am sorry that I did not live up to the hopes of people who believed that we could, with a single effort, a single strong push, jump out of the gray, stagnant, totalitarian past and into a bright, wealthy, civilized future. I used to believe that myself.”

A man who had resisted a coup eight years earlier no longer had the endurance for office or the political imagination to advance the cause. “I have done all I could,” he said. “A new generation is coming.” With that, he appointed as his successor Vladimir Putin, a relatively obscure intelligence agent who had been accelerated through the ranks because he had proved himself disciplined, shrewd, and, above all, loyal to his bosses.


Advertisement


One of Putin’s first decrees was to protect Yeltsin from future prosecution. Then he set out to stabilize the country and put it on a course of traditional Russian autocracy. “As Yeltsin started to withdraw, the old system reconsolidated, and Putin finalized this regression,” Andrei Kozyrev, the foreign minister between 1990 and 1996, said. “The fundamental problem was an inability to complete the economic and political reforms, and so we slipped back into confrontation with the West and NATO.”

Putin revealed his distrust for an open system almost immediately. He saw a state that had become barely functional, and he set about restoring its authority the only way he knew how: manually, and from the top. He replaced the freewheeling anarchy of Yeltsin’s rule with something more systematized, casting aside or coöpting the oligarchs of the nineteen-nineties and elevating a cast of corrupt satraps loyal to him—an arrangement that became known as Kremlin, Inc. Every aspect of the country’s political life, including the media, was brought under the “vertical of power” that he constructed. When Yeltsin held office, privately owned television stations, such as NTV, reported on the horrific war in Chechnya and even satirized Yeltsin and other Kremlin leaders on a puppet show called “Kukly.” NTV, which was owned by an oligarch named Vladimir Gusinsky, seemed to test Putin in the beginning, airing discussions about corruption and human-rights abuses; “Kukly” added a puppet depicting the new President. Putin was not amused. Within five months of taking power, he dispatched armed Interior Ministry troops to raid Gusinsky’s headquarters; by 2001, Gusinsky had been forced to give up NTV to more obedient owners and had fled the country. Ever since, television has been under strict federal control.

Putin, in his first few years in office, was relatively solicitous of the West. He was the first foreign leader to call George W. Bush after the destruction of the World Trade Center towers. When he spoke at the Bundestag, later that month, he addressed its members in German, the language that he had spoken as a K.G.B. agent in Dresden. He even entertained the notion of Russian membership in NATO.

America’s invasion of Iraq, which Putin opposed, marked a change in his thinking. Bush had made some progress with him on bilateral issues such as nuclear-arms proliferation, but by 2007 Putin had grown deeply disenchanted and came to feel that the West was treating Russia as a “vassal.” Robert Gates recalls a security conference, in Munich, in 2007, at which Putin angrily charged that the United States had “overstepped its national borders in every area” and that the expansion of NATO was directed against Russian interests. “People were inclined to pass it off as a one-off,” Gates said. “But it was a harbinger.”

For Putin, it was a story of misplaced hopes and rejection: he became convinced that, no matter how accommodating he might try to be, Western powers—the United States, above all—had an innate disinclination to treat Russia as a full partner and a respected member of the international order. At home, Putin was increasingly drawn to an authoritarian, nationalist conception of the Russian state. He knew that the fall of Communism and Soviet power had left a vacuum—the lack of a “national idea” to replace Marxism-Leninism. When Putin returned to the Presidency for a third term, in 2012, he felt the need to develop a Russian ideology of his own, and called on currents that run deep in Russian political culture: nationalism, xenophobia, and social conservatism. When, four years ago, Putin endorsed anti-gay legislation, for instance, he was playing to entrenched conservative prejudices that predate Soviet Communism—perhaps not for Western-oriented intellectuals and the urban middle class but for many millions of others.


Advertisement


Putin was hardly surprised by the liberal umbrage voiced by the Obama Administration and other Western governments. That confrontation was the point, a means of cementing his authority at home by playing up the notion of an encircled, perpetually menaced Russian state. Although Putin grew up under Soviet atheism, he nonetheless decried secular Americans and Europeans for “rejecting their roots, including the Christian values that constitute the basis of Western civilization.” His conservatism, he insisted, “prevents movement backward and downward, into chaotic darkness and a return to a primitive state.”

He was alarmed by the Obama Administration’s embrace of the uprisings in Tunisia and Egypt. And he was infuriated by the U.S.-led assault on Muammar Qaddafi’s regime. In early 2011, as Libyans challenged Qaddafi, Putin was ostensibly offstage, serving as Prime Minister; his protégé Dmitry Medvedev was President, and made a crucial decision not to veto an American-backed U.N. Security Council resolution in favor of military action in Libya. In a rare public split, Putin condemned the decision, comparing the resolution to a “medieval call to the crusades.” In October, 2011, a crowd of Libyans found Qaddafi hiding in a culvert with a gold-plated 9-mm. pistol, dragged him out, and killed him—a gruesome event that was broadcast worldwide. From Putin’s perspective, this was a case study in Western intervention: stir up protests, give them rhetorical support and diplomatic cover, and, if that doesn’t work, send in the fighter jets. The epilogue comes in the form of uncontrollable violence and an inglorious end for the country’s leader. According to Mikhail Zygar, the former editor-in-chief of the independent Internet station TV Rain and the author of “All the Kremlin’s Men,” Putin absorbed the death of Qaddafi as an object lesson: weakness and compromise were impermissible. “When he was a pariah, no one touched him,” Zygar wrote. “But as soon as he opened up he was not only overthrown but killed in the street like a mangy old cur.”
Cartoon


Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

Putin also regarded the anti-Kremlin, pro-democracy demonstrations in Moscow, which started in 2011, as a rehearsal for an uprising that had to be thwarted. Together with the upheavals abroad, they compounded his grievances against the West. Obama’s national-security adviser at the time, Tom Donilon, observed that Putin’s concerns were then focussed on domestic political stability and perceived foreign threats to it. He was convinced that “there were efforts under way to undermine his regime,” Donilon said. “From the outset of his second run as President, in my judgment, he was bringing Russia to a posture of pretty active hostility toward the United States and the West.” In September, 2013, after Putin declined requests to turn over Edward Snowden, Obama cancelled a planned summit in Moscow. “The communication really broke after that,” Donilon said. He saw Putin steadily remove non-intelligence personnel from his orbit. “In sharp contrast to the Chinese situation, there’s not a Russian national-security ‘system,’ ” he said. “He works with a very small group of individuals, namely, former K.G.B. and F.S.B. people.”

Dissent has now been effectively marginalized. Opposition candidates are frequently kept off the ballot on legal technicalities, and, when they do make it on, they are denied media coverage, let alone the “administrative resources” enjoyed by pro-Kremlin politicians. Some thirty journalists have been murdered in Russia in the past decade and a half; human-rights groups that receive funding from abroad are registered in Moscow as “foreign agents.” And contemporary Russian television is not only compliant but celebratory. “Imagine you have two dozen TV channels and it is all Fox News,” Vladimir Milov, a former deputy energy minister under Putin and now a critic, said.


Advertisement


Yet those channels bear little resemblance to the dreary Soviet broadcasts with their stilted language and shabby production values. Just as Putin no longer fills prison camps with countless “enemies of the people,” as Stalin did, but, rather, makes a chilling example of a famous few, like the businessman Mikhail Khodorkovsky or the group Pussy Riot, his propagandists have taken their cue from foreign forms: magazine shows, shout-fests, game shows, and reality shows. There are many figures in public life who are not permitted to appear on any talk show or news program. Russians can still find independent information on Facebook and various Web sites; critical books and magazines are available in stores and online; Echo of Moscow, a liberal radio station, hangs on. But, even in the Internet era, more than eighty per cent of Russians get their news from television. Manipulation of TV coverage is a crucial factor in Putin’s extraordinarily high popularity ratings, typically in excess of eighty per cent—ratings that Donald Trump both admires and envies.

In October, 2012, on the occasion of Putin’s sixtieth birthday, Dmitry Kiselyov, the host of “News of the Week,” a favorite TV show of Putin’s, delivered a long encomium to the President: “In terms of the scope of his activities, Putin can be compared to only one of his predecessors in the twentieth century—Stalin.” NTV aired a documentary, “Visiting Putin,” that sent a broadcaster to his office and his house on the outskirts of Moscow. Although well-informed critics have said that Putin is worth tens of billions of dollars and has twenty residences at his disposal, the program portrayed him as a near-ascetic, who wakes at eight-thirty, lifts weights, swims long distances, eats a modest breakfast (beet juice, porridge, raw quail eggs), and works deep into the night.

“All these TV genres emphasize the stature of Putin, as being above everybody and everything—not just the ultimate boss but the embodiment of Russian statehood,” Masha Lipman, the editor of the journal Counterpoint, said. The most important political space is not the grounds of the Kremlin. It is the space within the President’s skull.

“A well-known person once said, ‘You can get much farther with a kind word and a Smith & Wesson than you can with just a kind word,’ ” Putin says in “President,” a long documentary that aired on state television in 2015. “Unfortunately, he was right.” Later in the documentary, the host asks Putin if he thinks that the West fears Russia, because a “once failing state” is now “suddenly a powerful political player.” He calls Putin “the leader, if I may say, of the conservative part of both European and American society.”

Putin accepts both premises. “The so-called establishment, the political and economic élites of these countries, they like us only when we are poor and standing there with a beggar’s bowl,” he says. “As soon as we start talking about our interests and they start feeling some element of geopolitical competition, well, they don’t like that.”

In February, 2014, hours after President Victor Yanukovych of Ukraine, weakened by months of protests, fled Kiev, Putin made the decision to invade Crimea. He feared that Ukraine would turn its back on Russia and gravitate toward Europe. It was a way for Putin to signal, loudly and rudely, that he was finished going along with the Western-led order. It was personal as well. Michael Morell, a former deputy director of the C.I.A., said that the fall of Yanukovych led Putin to worry about his own power and well-being. “It happened in the heart of the Slavic world, and he could not allow it to become a precedent for a similar movement in Russia against him,” Morell said. “He had to crush it.”




































Advertisement


Putin and members of his circle also saw the Syrian civil war as an opportunity to halt a trend that had started with the invasion of Iraq and continued through the downfall of dictators in Egypt and Libya. A former senior U.S. official who has interacted with Russians said, “There was this period of time when the United States, in Putin’s view, was able to use international institutions to take on regimes that we found offensive, right through Libya, and Putin was determined to put a stake in the ground in Syria, to have Russia be at the table, and be able to resist the international community’s efforts to continue this pattern of conduct.” As Russia’s Defense Minister, Sergey Shoigu, remarked last month, Russia’s intervention in Syria “helped solve the geopolitical task of breaking the chain of ‘color revolutions.’ ” Russian television, of course, covered the siege of Aleppo as an enlightened act of liberation, free of any brutality or abuses.

In the United States, the issue of what to do about Russia was a growing point of contention between the Pentagon and the White House. Ukraine’s government wanted advanced weaponry to help battle Russian-backed rebels. Evelyn Farkas, the Pentagon’s most senior policy officer for Russia, strongly supported the request; Obama and others on his national-security team turned it down. Instead, the U.S. provided “nonlethal” aid, including vehicles, radar, and body armor. In testimony before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, in 2014, Farkas argued for greater American force, calling Russia’s actions “an affront to the international order that we and our allies have worked to build since the end of the Cold War.”

The Administration believed, with considerable justification, that escalating the conflict would provoke retaliation from Russia, push Putin into a corner, and—since Putin would never let the rebels suffer a battlefield defeat
Late one evening in the spring of 2007, President Toomas Hendrik Ilves of Estonia was at home using his laptop computer. He had trouble getting online. The news sites were down. The banks were down. Government sites were down. The President figured that it must be some kind of technical glitch. “The first reaction is not ‘We’re under attack,’ ” he said recently. But, after a few calls, he realized that someone was attacking one of Estonia’s core assets.

The birthplace of Skype and the home of other tech firms, Estonia is known in technology circles as “eStonia”; it is one of the most wired countries in the world. But Estonia was involved in a conflict with Russia over plans to move a Second World War-era statue of a Soviet soldier out of the center of Tallinn, the capital. Estonians regarded it as a symbol of occupation. The Russian government had warned publicly that moving it would be a grave offense to history and “disastrous for Estonians.”

On April 27th, the statue was moved. Almost immediately, commentators in Russian-language chat rooms posted instructions on how to become a “script kiddie,” an amateur hacker. The attackers did not need to “hack” Estonia’s sites, exactly; they simply swamped them with a “distributed denial of service”—DDoS—assault, which continued for two weeks. Investigators never pinpointed the source of the attack, but Ilves, who left the Presidency in October, 2016, believes that it was an alliance between members of the Russian government and organized crime. “I call it a public-private partnership,” he said wryly. “It was a state actor that paid mafiosos.”
Russia was acquiring a reputation, in defense circles, for ambition, technical acumen, and speed. Barely a year after the Estonia attack, during a conflict with Georgia over the territory of South Ossetia, Russian tanks and planes crossed into the disputed territory at the same moment that hackers broke into fifty-four Web sites serving the government, media, and banks. They stole military information and immobilized the nation’s Internet. Georgian officers struggled to send orders to troops, and bewildered citizens had no way to find out what was happening.

The Georgia campaign was “one of the first times you’ve seen conventional ground operations married with cyber activity,” Sulmeyer said. “It showed not just an understanding that these techniques could be useful in combined ops but that the Russians were willing to do them. These guys implemented.”
Cartoon
“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

And yet Russian military planners and officials in the Kremlin regarded Georgia as a failure in the realm of international propaganda. Although Russia prevailed militarily, its narrative was overshadowed by the Georgian one from the first minutes of the campaign. For Russia, the five-day conflict represented a “total defeat in the information space,” said Pavel Zolotarev, a retired major general in the Russian Army, who is now a professor at the Academy of Military Sciences. “Our television showed how the shelling started, the incursion of Georgian forces, and so on,” Zolotarev, who helped draft Russia’s national-security doctrine in the nineteen-nineties, said. “These pictures were shown in the West two days later—but as if Russia were doing the shelling, attacking Georgia.” Russian generals took this lesson to heart, and began to study how to use the media and other instruments to wage “information war,” later putting what they learned into practice in Ukraine and then Syria.


Advertisement


The United States, meanwhile, had its own notable cyberwar success. In 2008, in tandem with Israeli intelligence, the U.S. launched the first digital attack on another country’s critical infrastructure, deploying a “worm,” known as Stuxnet, that was designed to cause centrifuges in Iran to spin out of control and thereby delay its nuclear development.

Yet diplomatic concerns inhibited some of the United States’ active measures. The Obama Administration had a “reset” policy with Russia, forging agreements and coöperating on select issues, despite an over-all increase in tension. “Cyber was an area where we were trying to work with Russia,” Evelyn Farkas, the Pentagon official, said. “That’s the irony. We were meeting with their big spies, trying to develop some kind of arms control for cyber.”

When Robert Knake arrived as the director of cybersecurity policy at the National Security Council, in 2011, the White House had a formal initiative to combat Chinese hacking, known as the Counter-China strategy. Knake recalled, “The question was: ‘O.K., now, what’s the counter-Russia plan? And the counter-Iran plan?’ ” The difficulty was that, in the aftermath of Stuxnet, the U.S. needed Iran’s coöperation on diplomatic priorities. From 2011 to 2013, Iranian-backed hackers waged a sustained DDoS attack on dozens of American banks and financial-services companies, but the U.S. didn’t respond in kind, partly because the Administration was negotiating with Iran to curb its nuclear program. “If we had unleashed the fury in response to that DDoS attack, I don’t know if we would have gotten an Iran deal,” Knake said. In other cases, the Administration declined to respond forcefully so that it could retain the option of deploying similar means on other countries. “As long as we think we’re getting more value from this set of rules than we’re losing, then this is the set of rules we want to promote,” Knake said.

A new doctrine was taking shape, under which Russia sought to study the nefarious tools of the West, as it understood them, so as to counteract them at home and put them into practice abroad. One indication of what that might look like came in February, 2013, when, in the pages of the Military-Industrial Courier—a journal with a tiny yet influential readership of Russian military strategists—Valery Gerasimov, the Russian chief of general staff, published an article with the anodyne title “The Value of Science in Prediction.” The article identified and urged the adoption of a Western strategy that involved military, technological, media, political, and intelligence tactics that would destabilize an enemy at minimal cost. The strategy, which came to be known as “hybrid war,” was an amalgam that states have used for generations, but the text took on the status of a legend, and is now known in international military circles as the Gerasimov doctrine.

Gerasimov is sixty-one years old, and is always photographed in a stiff, forest-green military uniform and with a perpetually sagging frown. He trained as a tank commander, and then climbed the military hierarchy; he led the Fifty-eighth Army during the Second Chechen War. In the article for Military-Industrial Courier, Gerasimov suggested that, in the future, wars will be fought with a four-to-one ratio of nonmilitary to military measures. The former, he wrote, should include efforts to shape the political and social landscape of the adversary through subversion, espionage, propaganda, and cyberattacks. His essay, written in the shadow of the Arab Spring, cited the anarchy and violence that erupted in Libya and Syria as proof that, when faced with the combination of pressure and interference, a “perfectly thriving state can, in a matter of months, and even days, be transformed into an arena of fierce armed conflict, become a victim of foreign intervention, and sink into a web of chaos, humanitarian catastrophe, and civil war.”


Advertisement


Such events were “typical of warfare in the twenty-first century,” he wrote. “The role of nonmilitary means of achieving political and strategic goals has grown, and, in many cases, they have exceeded the power of force of weapons in their effectiveness.”

Pavel Zolotarev, the retired Russian general, explained that, when Gerasimov’s essay was published, “we had come to the conclusion, having analyzed the actions of Western countries in the post-Soviet space—first of all the United States—that manipulation in the information sphere is a very effective tool.” Previously, one had to use “grandfather-style methods: scatter leaflets, throw around some printed materials, manipulate the radio or television,” Zolotarev said. “But, all of a sudden, new means have appeared.”

Gerasimov’s prescriptions began to look prophetic a year later, when Russia annexed Crimea in a quick operation that caught U.S. officials by surprise and contravened international law. Russian-made propaganda whipped up pro-Moscow sentiment in a population that was already wary of Ukrainian political leaders in Kiev and had deep, historical ties with Russia. Unidentified soldiers (the so-called “little green men”) surrounded Ukrainian bases in Crimea, and within days Russia had pulled off a hastily organized, stage-managed referendum.

Even with the rise of new technologies, the underlying truth about such operations hasn’t changed. They are less a way to conjure up something out of nothing than to stir a pot that is already bubbling. In the U.S.,
Russia was acquiring a reputation, in defense circles, for ambition, technical acumen, and speed. Barely a year after the Estonia attack, during a conflict with Georgia over the territory of South Ossetia, Russian tanks and planes crossed into the disputed territory at the same moment that hackers broke into fifty-four Web sites serving the government, media, and banks. They stole military information and immobilized the nation’s Internet. Georgian officers struggled to send orders to troops, and bewildered citizens had no way to find out what was happening.

The Georgia campaign was “one of the first times you’ve seen conventional ground operations married with cyber activity,” Sulmeyer said. “It showed not just an understanding that these techniques could be useful in combined ops but that the Russians were willing to do them. These guys implemented.”
Cartoon
“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

And yet Russian military planners and officials in the Kremlin regarded Georgia as a failure in the realm of international propaganda. Although Russia prevailed militarily, its narrative was overshadowed by the Georgian one from the first minutes of the campaign. For Russia, the five-day conflict represented a “total defeat in the information space,” said Pavel Zolotarev, a retired major general in the Russian Army, who is now a professor at the Academy of Military Sciences. “Our television showed how the shelling started, the incursion of Georgian forces, and so on,” Zolotarev, who helped draft Russia’s national-security doctrine in the nineteen-nineties, said. “These pictures were shown in the West two days later—but as if Russia were doing the shelling, attacking Georgia.” Russian generals took this lesson to heart, and began to study how to use the media and other instruments to wage “information war,” later putting what they learned into practice in Ukraine and then Syria.


Advertisement


The United States, meanwhile, had its own notable cyberwar success. In 2008, in tandem with Israeli intelligence, the U.S. launched the first digital attack on another country’s critical infrastructure, deploying a “worm,” known as Stuxnet, that was designed to cause centrifuges in Iran to spin out of control and thereby delay its nuclear development.

Yet diplomatic concerns inhibited some of the United States’ active measures. The Obama Administration had a “reset” policy with Russia, forging agreements and coöperating on select issues, despite an over-all increase in tension. “Cyber was an area where we were trying to work with Russia,” Evelyn Farkas, the Pentagon official, said. “That’s the irony. We were meeting with their big spies, trying to develop some kind of arms control for cyber.”

When Robert Knake arrived as the director of cybersecurity policy at the National Security Council, in 2011, the White House had a formal initiative to combat Chinese hacking, known as the Counter-China strategy. Knake recalled, “The question was: ‘O.K., now, what’s the counter-Russia plan? And the counter-Iran plan?’ ” The difficulty was that, in the aftermath of Stuxnet, the U.S. needed Iran’s coöperation on diplomatic priorities. From 2011 to 2013, Iranian-backed hackers waged a sustained DDoS attack on dozens of American banks and financial-services companies, but the U.S. didn’t respond in kind, partly because the Administration was negotiating with Iran to curb its nuclear program. “If we had unleashed the fury in response to that DDoS attack, I don’t know if we would have gotten an Iran deal,” Knake said. In other cases, the Administration declined to respond forcefully so that it could retain the option of deploying similar means on other countries. “As long as we think we’re getting more value from this set of rules than we’re losing, then this is the set of rules we want to promote,” Knake said.

A new doctrine was taking shape, under which Russia sought to study the nefarious tools of the West, as it understood them, so as to counteract them at home and put them into practice abroad. One indication of what that might look like came in February, 2013, when, in the pages of the Military-Industrial Courier—a journal with a tiny yet influential readership of Russian military strategists—Valery Gerasimov, the Russian chief of general staff, published an article with the anodyne title “The Value of Science in Prediction.” The article identified and urged the adoption of a Western strategy that involved military, technological, media, political, and intelligence tactics that would destabilize an enemy at minimal cost. The strategy, which came to be known as “hybrid war,” was an amalgam that states have used for generations, but the text took on the status of a legend, and is now known in international military circles as the Gerasimov doctrine.

Gerasimov is sixty-one years old, and is always photographed in a stiff, forest-green military uniform and with a perpetually sagging frown. He trained as a tank commander, and then climbed the military hierarchy; he led the Fifty-eighth Army during the Second Chechen War. In the article for Military-Industrial Courier, Gerasimov suggested that, in the future, wars will be fought with a four-to-one ratio of nonmilitary to military measures. The former, he wrote, should include efforts to shape the political and social landscape of the adversary through subversion, espionage, propaganda, and cyberattacks. His essay, written in the shadow of the Arab Spring, cited the anarchy and violence that erupted in Libya and Syria as proof that, when faced with the combination of pressure and interference, a “perfectly thriving state can, in a matter of months, and even days, be transformed into an arena of fierce armed conflict, become a victim of foreign intervention, and sink into a web of chaos, humanitarian catastrophe, and civil war.”


Advertisement


Such events were “typical of warfare in the twenty-first century,” he wrote. “The role of nonmilitary means of achieving political and strategic goals has grown, and, in many cases, they have exceeded the power of force of weapons in their effectiveness.”

Pavel Zolotarev, the retired Russian general, explained that, when Gerasimov’s essay was published, “we had come to the conclusion, having analyzed the actions of Western countries in the post-Soviet space—first of all the United States—that manipulation in the information sphere is a very effective tool.” Previously, one had to use “grandfather-style methods: scatter leaflets, throw around some printed materials, manipulate the radio or television,” Zolotarev said. “But, all of a sudden, new means have appeared.”

Gerasimov’s prescriptions began to look prophetic a year later, when Russia annexed Crimea in a quick operation that caught U.S. officials by surprise and contravened international law. Russian-made propaganda whipped up pro-Moscow sentiment in a population that was already wary of Ukrainian political leaders in Kiev and had deep, historical ties with Russia. Unidentified soldiers (the so-called “little green men”) surrounded Ukrainian bases in Crimea, and within days Russia had pulled off a hastily organized, stage-managed referendum.

Even with the rise of new technologies, the underlying truth about such operations hasn’t changed. They are less a way to conjure up something out of nothing than to stir a pot that is already bubbling. In the U.S.,
Russia was acquiring a reputation, in defense circles, for ambition, technical acumen, and speed. Barely a year after the Estonia attack, during a conflict with Georgia over the territory of South Ossetia, Russian tanks and planes crossed into the disputed territory at the same moment that hackers broke into fifty-four Web sites serving the government, media, and banks. They stole military information and immobilized the nation’s Internet. Georgian officers struggled to send orders to troops, and bewildered citizens had no way to find out what was happening.

The Georgia campaign was “one of the first times you’ve seen conventional ground operations married with cyber activity,” Sulmeyer said. “It showed not just an understanding that these techniques could be useful in combined ops but that the Russians were willing to do them. These guys implemented.”
Cartoon
“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

And yet Russian military planners and officials in the Kremlin regarded Georgia as a failure in the realm of international propaganda. Although Russia prevailed militarily, its narrative was overshadowed by the Georgian one from the first minutes of the campaign. For Russia, the five-day conflict represented a “total defeat in the information space,” said Pavel Zolotarev, a retired major general in the Russian Army, who is now a professor at the Academy of Military Sciences. “Our television showed how the shelling started, the incursion of Georgian forces, and so on,” Zolotarev, who helped draft Russia’s national-security doctrine in the nineteen-nineties, said. “These pictures were shown in the West two days later—but as if Russia were doing the shelling, attacking Georgia.” Russian generals took this lesson to heart, and began to study how to use the media and other instruments to wage “information war,” later putting what they learned into practice in Ukraine and then Syria.


Advertisement


The United States, meanwhile, had its own notable cyberwar success. In 2008, in tandem with Israeli intelligence, the U.S. launched the first digital attack on another country’s critical infrastructure, deploying a “worm,” known as Stuxnet, that was designed to cause centrifuges in Iran to spin out of control and thereby delay its nuclear development.

Yet diplomatic concerns inhibited some of the United States’ active measures. The Obama Administration had a “reset” policy with Russia, forging agreements and coöperating on select issues, despite an over-all increase in tension. “Cyber was an area where we were trying to work with Russia,” Evelyn Farkas, the Pentagon official, said. “That’s the irony. We were meeting with their big spies, trying to develop some kind of arms control for cyber.”

When Robert Knake arrived as the director of cybersecurity policy at the National Security Council, in 2011, the White House had a formal initiative to combat Chinese hacking, known as the Counter-China strategy. Knake recalled, “The question was: ‘O.K., now, what’s the counter-Russia plan? And the counter-Iran plan?’ ” The difficulty was that, in the aftermath of Stuxnet, the U.S. needed Iran’s coöperation on diplomatic priorities. From 2011 to 2013, Iranian-backed hackers waged a sustained DDoS attack on dozens of American banks and financial-services companies, but the U.S. didn’t respond in kind, partly because the Administration was negotiating with Iran to curb its nuclear program. “If we had unleashed the fury in response to that DDoS attack, I don’t know if we would have gotten an Iran deal,” Knake said. In other cases, the Administration declined to respond forcefully so that it could retain the option of deploying similar means on other countries. “As long as we think we’re getting more value from this set of rules than we’re losing, then this is the set of rules we want to promote,” Knake said.

A new doctrine was taking shape, under which Russia sought to study the nefarious tools of the West, as it understood them, so as to counteract them at home and put them into practice abroad. One indication of what that might look like came in February, 2013, when, in the pages of the Military-Industrial Courier—a journal with a tiny yet influential readership of Russian military strategists—Valery Gerasimov, the Russian chief of general staff, published an article with the anodyne title “The Value of Science in Prediction.” The article identified and urged the adoption of a Western strategy that involved military, technological, media, political, and intelligence tactics that would destabilize an enemy at minimal cost. The strategy, which came to be known as “hybrid war,” was an amalgam that states have used for generations, but the text took on the status of a legend, and is now known in international military circles as the Gerasimov doctrine.

Gerasimov is sixty-one years old, and is always photographed in a stiff, forest-green military uniform and with a perpetually sagging frown. He trained as a tank commander, and then climbed the military hierarchy; he led the Fifty-eighth Army during the Second Chechen War. In the article for Military-Industrial Courier, Gerasimov suggested that, in the future, wars will be fought with a four-to-one ratio of nonmilitary to military measures. The former, he wrote, should include efforts to shape the political and social landscape of the adversary through subversion, espionage, propaganda, and cyberattacks. His essay, written in the shadow of the Arab Spring, cited the anarchy and violence that erupted in Libya and Syria as proof that, when faced with the combination of pressure and interference, a “perfectly thriving state can, in a matter of months, and even days, be transformed into an arena of fierce armed conflict, become a victim of foreign intervention, and sink into a web of chaos, humanitarian catastrophe, and civil war.”


Advertisement


Such events were “typical of warfare in the twenty-first century,” he wrote. “The role of nonmilitary means of achieving political and strategic goals has grown, and, in many cases, they have exceeded the power of force of weapons in their effectiveness.”

Pavel Zolotarev, the retired Russian general, explained that, when Gerasimov’s essay was published, “we had come to the conclusion, having analyzed the actions of Western countries in the post-Soviet space—first of all the United States—that manipulation in the information sphere is a very effective tool.” Previously, one had to use “grandfather-style methods: scatter leaflets, throw around some printed materials, manipulate the radio or television,” Zolotarev said. “But, all of a sudden, new means have appeared.”

Gerasimov’s prescriptions began to look prophetic a year later, when Russia annexed Crimea in a quick operation that caught U.S. officials by surprise and contravened international law. Russian-made propaganda whipped up pro-Moscow sentiment in a population that was already wary of Ukrainian political leaders in Kiev and had deep, historical ties with Russia. Unidentified soldiers (the so-called “little green men”) surrounded Ukrainian bases in Crimea, and within days Russia had pulled off a hastily organized, stage-managed referendum.

Even with the rise of new technologies, the underlying truth about such operations hasn’t changed. They are less a way to conjure up something out of nothing than to stir a pot that is already bubbling. In the U.S.,
Russia was acquiring a reputation, in defense circles, for ambition, technical acumen, and speed. Barely a year after the Estonia attack, during a conflict with Georgia over the territory of South Ossetia, Russian tanks and planes crossed into the disputed territory at the same moment that hackers broke into fifty-four Web sites serving the government, media, and banks. They stole military information and immobilized the nation’s Internet. Georgian officers struggled to send orders to troops, and bewildered citizens had no way to find out what was happening.

The Georgia campaign was “one of the first times you’ve seen conventional ground operations married with cyber activity,” Sulmeyer said. “It showed not just an understanding that these techniques could be useful in combined ops but that the Russians were willing to do them. These guys implemented.”
Cartoon
“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

And yet Russian military planners and officials in the Kremlin regarded Georgia as a failure in the realm of international propaganda. Although Russia prevailed militarily, its narrative was overshadowed by the Georgian one from the first minutes of the campaign. For Russia, the five-day conflict represented a “total defeat in the information space,” said Pavel Zolotarev, a retired major general in the Russian Army, who is now a professor at the Academy of Military Sciences. “Our television showed how the shelling started, the incursion of Georgian forces, and so on,” Zolotarev, who helped draft Russia’s national-security doctrine in the nineteen-nineties, said. “These pictures were shown in the West two days later—but as if Russia were doing the shelling, attacking Georgia.” Russian generals took this lesson to heart, and began to study how to use the media and other instruments to wage “information war,” later putting what they learned into practice in Ukraine and then Syria.


Advertisement


The United States, meanwhile, had its own notable cyberwar success. In 2008, in tandem with Israeli intelligence, the U.S. launched the first digital attack on another country’s critical infrastructure, deploying a “worm,” known as Stuxnet, that was designed to cause centrifuges in Iran to spin out of control and thereby delay its nuclear development.

Yet diplomatic concerns inhibited some of the United States’ active measures. The Obama Administration had a “reset” policy with Russia, forging agreements and coöperating on select issues, despite an over-all increase in tension. “Cyber was an area where we were trying to work with Russia,” Evelyn Farkas, the Pentagon official, said. “That’s the irony. We were meeting with their big spies, trying to develop some kind of arms control for cyber.”

When Robert Knake arrived as the director of cybersecurity policy at the National Security Council, in 2011, the White House had a formal initiative to combat Chinese hacking, known as the Counter-China strategy. Knake recalled, “The question was: ‘O.K., now, what’s the counter-Russia plan? And the counter-Iran plan?’ ” The difficulty was that, in the aftermath of Stuxnet, the U.S. needed Iran’s coöperation on diplomatic priorities. From 2011 to 2013, Iranian-backed hackers waged a sustained DDoS attack on dozens of American banks and financial-services companies, but the U.S. didn’t respond in kind, partly because the Administration was negotiating with Iran to curb its nuclear program. “If we had unleashed the fury in response to that DDoS attack, I don’t know if we would have gotten an Iran deal,” Knake said. In other cases, the Administration declined to respond forcefully so that it could retain the option of deploying similar means on other countries. “As long as we think we’re getting more value from this set of rules than we’re losing, then this is the set of rules we want to promote,” Knake said.

A new doctrine was taking shape, under which Russia sought to study the nefarious tools of the West, as it understood them, so as to counteract them at home and put them into practice abroad. One indication of what that might look like came in February, 2013, when, in the pages of the Military-Industrial Courier—a journal with a tiny yet influential read

affect a fallen power and would-be partner. Clinton and his advisers were aware that reactionary political forces in Russia—the so-called “red-brown coalition” of diehard Communists and resurgent nationalists—viewed the United States as exploitative and triumphalist and hoped to gain control of the state.

In 1996, during a summit meeting in Moscow, Clinton went for an early-morning run with Talbott in the Sparrow Hills, near Moscow State University. Clinton had known Talbott since they were students at Oxford, and confided his anxiety. He did not regret the expansion of NATO or the decision, at last, to battle Serbian forces in Bosnia. But he knew that he was making Yeltsin’s political life excruciatingly difficult.

“We keep telling ol’ Boris, ‘O.K., now, here’s what you’ve got to do next—here’s some more shit for your face,’ ” Clinton told Talbott as they ran. “And that makes it real hard for him, given what he’s up against and who he’s dealing with.”

Earlier that year, Yeltsin had summoned Talbott. “I don’t like it when the U.S. flaunts its superiority,” he told him. “Russia’s difficulties are only temporary, and not only because we have nuclear weapons but also because of our economy, our culture, our spiritual strength. All that amounts to a legitimate, undeniable basis for equal treatment. Russia will rise again! I repeat: Russia will rise again.”

When the 1996 election season began, Yeltsin was polling in the single digits. Much of the country held him responsible for economic measures that seemed to help only those close to Kremlin power. For millions, reform—including the “shock therapy” pushed by Western advisers and politicians—meant a collapse in basic services, hyperinflation, corruption, kleptocratic privatization, and an economic downturn as severe as the Great Depression. Most Russians blamed not the corrosion of the old system but, rather, the corruptions of the new. Demokratiya (democracy) was popularly referred to as dermokratiya (shit-ocracy). Yeltsin, benefitting from the support of both the oligarchs and the International Monetary Fund, managed to eke out a victory against his Communist opponent, but he continued to drink heavily, despite a history of heart attacks, and, in his final years in power, was often a sorry, inebriated spectacle.

On New Year’s Eve, 1999, Yeltsin appeared on national television sitting in front of a Christmas tree. Looking blocky and moribund, he said that he was resigning. “I am sorry that many of our dreams failed to come true,” he said. “I am sorry that I did not live up to the hopes of people who believed that we could, with a single effort, a single strong push, jump out of the gray, stagnant, totalitarian past and into a bright, wealthy, civilized future. I used to believe that myself.”

A man who had resisted a coup eight years earlier no longer had the endurance for office or the political imagination to advance the cause. “I have done all I could,” he said. “A new generation is coming.” With that, he appointed as his successor Vladimir Putin, a relatively obscure intelligence agent who had been accelerated through the ranks because he had proved himself disciplined, shrewd, and, above all, loyal to his bosses.


Advertisement


One of Putin’s first decrees was to protect Yeltsin from future prosecution. Then he set out to stabilize the country and put it on a course of traditional Russian autocracy. “As Yeltsin started to withdraw, the old system reconsolidated, and Putin finalized this regression,” Andrei Kozyrev, the foreign minister between 1990 and 1996, said. “The fundamental problem was an inability to complete the economic and political reforms, and so we slipped back into confrontation with the West and NATO.”

Putin revealed his distrust for an open system almost immediately. He saw a state that had become barely functional, and he set about restoring its authority the only way he knew how: manually, and from the top. He replaced the freewheeling anarchy of Yeltsin’s rule with something more systematized, casting aside or coöpting the oligarchs of the nineteen-nineties and elevating a cast of corrupt satraps loyal to him—an arrangement that became known as Kremlin, Inc. Every aspect of the country’s political life, including the media, was brought under the “vertical of power” that he constructed. When Yeltsin held office, privately owned television stations, such as NTV, reported on the horrific war in Chechnya and even satirized Yeltsin and other Kremlin leaders on a puppet show called “Kukly.” NTV, which was owned by an oligarch named Vladimir Gusinsky, seemed to test Putin in the beginning, airing discussions about corruption and human-rights abuses; “Kukly” added a puppet depicting the new President. Putin was not amused. Within five months of taking power, he dispatched armed Interior Ministry troops to raid Gusinsky’s headquarters; by 2001, Gusinsky had been forced to give up NTV to more obedient owners and had fled the country. Ever since, television has been under strict federal control.

Putin, in his first few years in office, was relatively solicitous of the West. He was the first foreign leader to call George W. Bush after the destruction of the World Trade Center towers. When he spoke at the Bundestag, later that month, he addressed its members in German, the language that he had spoken as a K.G.B. agent in Dresden. He even entertained the notion of Russian membership in NATO.

America’s invasion of Iraq, which Putin opposed, marked a change in his thinking. Bush had made some progress with him on bilateral issues such as nuclear-arms proliferation, but by 2007 Putin had grown deeply disenchanted and came to feel that the West was treating Russia as a “vassal.” Robert Gates recalls a security conference, in Munich, in 2007, at which Putin angrily charged that the United States had “overstepped its national borders in every area” and that the expansion of NATO was directed against Russian interests. “People were inclined to pass it off as a one-off,” Gates said. “But it was a harbinger.”

For Putin, it was a story of misplaced hopes and rejection: he became convinced that, no matter how accommodating he might try to be, Western powers—the United States, above all—had an innate disinclination to treat Russia as a full partner and a respected member of the international order. At home, Putin was increasingly drawn to an authoritarian, nationalist conception of the Russian state. He knew that the fall of Communism and Soviet power had left a vacuum—the lack of a “national idea” to replace Marxism-Leninism. When Putin returned to the Presidency for a third term, in 2012, he felt the need to develop a Russian ideology of his own, and called on currents that run deep in Russian political culture: nationalism, xenophobia, and social conservatism. When, four years ago, Putin endorsed anti-gay legislation, for instance, he was playing to entrenched conservative prejudices that predate Soviet Communism—perhaps not for Western-oriented intellectuals and the urban middle class but for many millions of others.


Advertisement


Putin was hardly surprised by the liberal umbrage voiced by the Obama Administration and other Western governments. That confrontation was the point, a means of cementing his authority at home by playing up the notion of an encircled, perpetually menaced Russian state. Although Putin grew up under Soviet atheism, he nonetheless decried secular Americans and Europeans for “rejecting their roots, including the Christian values that constitute the basis of Western civilization.” His conservatism, he insisted, “prevents movement backward and downward, into chaotic darkness and a return to a primitive state.”

He was alarmed by the Obama Administration’s embrace of the uprisings in Tunisia and Egypt. And he was infuriated by the U.S.-led assault on Muammar Qaddafi’s regime. In early 2011, as Libyans challenged Qaddafi, Putin was ostensibly offstage, serving as Prime Minister; his protégé Dmitry Medvedev was President, and made a crucial decision not to veto an American-backed U.N. Security Council resolution in favor of military action in Libya. In a rare public split, Putin condemned the decision, comparing the resolution to a “medieval call to the crusades.” In October, 2011, a crowd of Libyans found Qaddafi hiding in a culvert with a gold-plated 9-mm. pistol, dragged him out, and killed him—a gruesome event that was broadcast worldwide. From Putin’s perspective, this was a case study in Western intervention: stir up protests, give them rhetorical support and diplomatic cover, and, if that doesn’t work, send in the fighter jets. The epilogue comes in the form of uncontrollable violence and an inglorious end for the country’s leader. According to Mikhail Zygar, the former editor-in-chief of the independent Internet station TV Rain and the author of “All the Kremlin’s Men,” Putin absorbed the death of Qaddafi as an object lesson: weakness and compromise were impermissible. “When he was a pariah, no one touched him,” Zygar wrote. “But as soon as he opened up he was not only overthrown but killed in the street like a mangy old cur.”
Cartoon


Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

Putin also regarded the anti-Kremlin, pro-democracy demonstrations in Moscow, which started in 2011, as a rehearsal for an uprising that had to be thwarted. Together with the upheavals abroad, they compounded his grievances against the West. Obama’s national-security adviser at the time, Tom Donilon, observed that Putin’s concerns were then focussed on domestic political stability and perceived foreign threats to it. He was convinced that “there were efforts under way to undermine his regime,” Donilon said. “From the outset of his second run as President, in my judgment, he was bringing Russia to a posture of pretty active hostility toward the United States and the West.” In September, 2013, after Putin declined requests to turn over Edward Snowden, Obama cancelled a planned summit in Moscow. “The communication really broke after that,” Donilon said. He saw Putin steadily remove non-intelligence personnel from his orbit. “In sharp contrast to the Chinese situation, there’s not a Russian national-security ‘system,’ ” he said. “He works with a very small group of individuals, namely, former K.G.B. and F.S.B. people.”

Dissent has now been effectively marginalized. Opposition candidates are frequently kept off the ballot on legal technicalities, and, when they do make it on, they are denied media coverage, let alone the “administrative resources” enjoyed by pro-Kremlin politicians. Some thirty journalists have been murdered in Russia in the past decade and a half; human-rights groups that receive funding from abroad are registered in Moscow as “foreign agents.” And contemporary Russian television is not only compliant but celebratory. “Imagine you have two dozen TV channels and it is all Fox News,” Vladimir Milov, a former deputy energy minister under Putin and now a critic, said.


Advertisement


Yet those channels bear little resemblance to the dreary Soviet broadcasts with their stilted language and shabby production values. Just as Putin no longer fills prison camps with countless “enemies of the people,” as Stalin did, but, rather, makes a chilling example of a famous few, like the businessman Mikhail Khodorkovsky or the group Pussy Riot, his propagandists have taken their cue from foreign forms: magazine shows, shout-fests, game shows, and reality shows. There are many figures in public life who are not permitted to appear on any talk show or news program. Russians can still find independent information on Facebook and various Web sites; critical books and magazines are available in stores and online; Echo of Moscow, a liberal radio station, hangs on. But, even in the Internet era, more than eighty per cent of Russians get their news from television. Manipulation of TV coverage is a crucial factor in Putin’s extraordinarily high popularity ratings, typically in excess of eighty per cent—ratings that Donald Trump both admires and envies.

In October, 2012, on the occasion of Putin’s sixtieth birthday, Dmitry Kiselyov, the host of “News of the Week,” a favorite TV show of Putin’s, delivered a long encomium to the President: “In terms of the scope of his activities, Putin can be compared to only one of his predecessors in the twentieth century—Stalin.” NTV aired a documentary, “Visiting Putin,” that sent a broadcaster to his office and his house on the outskirts of Moscow. Although well-informed critics have said that Putin is worth tens of billions of dollars and has twenty residences at his disposal, the program portrayed him as a near-ascetic, who wakes at eight-thirty, lifts weights, swims long distances, eats a modest breakfast (beet juice, porridge, raw quail eggs), and works deep into the night.

“All these TV genres emphasize the stature of Putin, as being above everybody and everything—not just the ultimate boss but the embodiment of Russian statehood,” Masha Lipman, the editor of the journal Counterpoint, said. The most important political space is not the grounds of the Kremlin. It is the space within the President’s skull.

“A well-known person once said, ‘You can get much farther with a kind word and a Smith & Wesson than you can with just a kind word,’ ” Putin says in “President,” a long documentary that aired on state television in 2015. “Unfortunately, he was right.” Later in the documentary, the host asks Putin if he thinks that the West fears Russia, because a “once failing state” is now “suddenly a powerful political player.” He calls Putin “the leader, if I may say, of the conservative part of both European and American society.”

Putin accepts both premises. “The so-called establishment, the political and economic élites of these countries, they like us only when we are poor and standing there with a beggar’s bowl,” he says. “As soon as we start talking about our interests and they start feeling some element of geopolitical competition, well, they don’t like that.”

In February, 2014, hours after President Victor Yanukovych of Ukraine, weakened by months of protests, fled Kiev, Putin made the decision to invade Crimea. He feared that Ukraine would turn its back on Russia and gravitate toward Europe. It was a way for Putin to signal, loudly and rudely, that he was finished going along with the Western-led order. It was personal as well. Michael Morell, a former deputy director of the C.I.A., said that the fall of Yanukovych led Putin to worry about his own power and well-being. “It happened in the heart of the Slavic world, and he could not allow it to become a precedent for a similar movement in Russia against him,” Morell said. “He had to crush it.”




































Advertisement


Putin and members of his circle also saw the Syrian civil war as an opportunity to halt a trend that had started with the invasion of Iraq and continued through the downfall of dictators in Egypt and Libya. A former senior U.S. official who has interacted with Russians said, “There was this period of time when the United States, in Putin’s view, was able to use international institutions to take on regimes that we found offensive, right through Libya, and Putin was determined to put a stake in the ground in Syria, to have Russia be at the table, and be able to resist the international community’s efforts to continue this pattern of conduct.” As Russia’s Defense Minister, Sergey Shoigu, remarked last month, Russia’s intervention in Syria “helped solve the geopolitical task of breaking the chain of ‘color revolutions.’ ” Russian television, of course, covered the siege of Aleppo as an enlightened act of liberation, free of any brutality or abuses.

In the United States, the issue of what to do about Russia was a growing point of contention between the Pentagon and the White House. Ukraine’s government wanted advanced weaponry to help battle Russian-backed rebels. Evelyn Farkas, the Pentagon’s most senior policy officer for Russia, strongly supported the request; Obama and others on his national-security team turned it down. Instead, the U.S. provided “nonlethal” aid, including vehicles, radar, and body armor. In testimony before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, in 2014, Farkas argued for greater American force, calling Russia’s actions “an affront to the international order that we and our allies have worked to build since the end of the Cold War.”

The Administration believed, with considerable justification, that escalating the conflict would provoke retaliation from Russia, push Putin into a corner, and—since Putin would never let the rebels suffer a battlefield defeat
affect a fallen power and would-be partner. Clinton and his advisers were aware that reactionary political forces in Russia—the so-called “red-brown coalition” of diehard Communists and resurgent nationalists—viewed the United States as exploitative and triumphalist and hoped to gain control of the state.

In 1996, during a summit meeting in Moscow, Clinton went for an early-morning run with Talbott in the Sparrow Hills, near Moscow State University. Clinton had known Talbott since they were students at Oxford, and confided his anxiety. He did not regret the expansion of NATO or the decision, at last, to battle Serbian forces in Bosnia. But he knew that he was making Yeltsin’s political life excruciatingly difficult.

“We keep telling ol’ Boris, ‘O.K., now, here’s what you’ve got to do next—here’s some more shit for your face,’ ” Clinton told Talbott as they ran. “And that makes it real hard for him, given what he’s up against and who he’s dealing with.”

Earlier that year, Yeltsin had summoned Talbott. “I don’t like it when the U.S. flaunts its superiority,” he told him. “Russia’s difficulties are only temporary, and not only because we have nuclear weapons but also because of our economy, our culture, our spiritual strength. All that amounts to a legitimate, undeniable basis for equal treatment. Russia will rise again! I repeat: Russia will rise again.”

When the 1996 election season began, Yeltsin was polling in the single digits. Much of the country held him responsible for economic measures that seemed to help only those close to Kremlin power. For millions, reform—including the “shock therapy” pushed by Western advisers and politicians—meant a collapse in basic services, hyperinflation, corruption, kleptocratic privatization, and an economic downturn as severe as the Great Depression. Most Russians blamed not the corrosion of the old system but, rather, the corruptions of the new. Demokratiya (democracy) was popularly referred to as dermokratiya (shit-ocracy). Yeltsin, benefitting from the support of both the oligarchs and the International Monetary Fund, managed to eke out a victory against his Communist opponent, but he continued to drink heavily, despite a history of heart attacks, and, in his final years in power, was often a sorry, inebriated spectacle.

On New Year’s Eve, 1999, Yeltsin appeared on national television sitting in front of a Christmas tree. Looking blocky and moribund, he said that he was resigning. “I am sorry that many of our dreams failed to come true,” he said. “I am sorry that I did not live up to the hopes of people who believed that we could, with a single effort, a single strong push, jump out of the gray, stagnant, totalitarian past and into a bright, wealthy, civilized future. I used to believe that myself.”

A man who had resisted a coup eight years earlier no longer had the endurance for office or the political imagination to advance the cause. “I have done all I could,” he said. “A new generation is coming.” With that, he appointed as his successor Vladimir Putin, a relatively obscure intelligence agent who had been accelerated through the ranks because he had proved himself disciplined, shrewd, and, above all, loyal to his bosses.


Advertisement


One of Putin’s first decrees was to protect Yeltsin from future prosecution. Then he set out to stabilize the country and put it on a course of traditional Russian autocracy. “As Yeltsin started to withdraw, the old system reconsolidated, and Putin finalized this regression,” Andrei Kozyrev, the foreign minister between 1990 and 1996, said. “The fundamental problem was an inability to complete the economic and political reforms, and so we slipped back into confrontation with the West and NATO.”

Putin revealed his distrust for an open system almost immediately. He saw a state that had become barely functional, and he set about restoring its authority the only way he knew how: manually, and from the top. He replaced the freewheeling anarchy of Yeltsin’s rule with something more systematized, casting aside or coöpting the oligarchs of the nineteen-nineties and elevating a cast of corrupt satraps loyal to him—an arrangement that became known as Kremlin, Inc. Every aspect of the country’s political life, including the media, was brought under the “vertical of power” that he constructed. When Yeltsin held office, privately owned television stations, such as NTV, reported on the horrific war in Chechnya and even satirized Yeltsin and other Kremlin leaders on a puppet show called “Kukly.” NTV, which was owned by an oligarch named Vladimir Gusinsky, seemed to test Putin in the beginning, airing discussions about corruption and human-rights abuses; “Kukly” added a puppet depicting the new President. Putin was not amused. Within five months of taking power, he dispatched armed Interior Ministry troops to raid Gusinsky’s headquarters; by 2001, Gusinsky had been forced to give up NTV to more obedient owners and had fled the country. Ever since, television has been under strict federal control.

Putin, in his first few years in office, was relatively solicitous of the West. He was the first foreign leader to call George W. Bush after the destruction of the World Trade Center towers. When he spoke at the Bundestag, later that month, he addressed its members in German, the language that he had spoken as a K.G.B. agent in Dresden. He even entertained the notion of Russian membership in NATO.

America’s invasion of Iraq, which Putin opposed, marked a change in his thinking. Bush had made some progress with him on bilateral issues such as nuclear-arms proliferation, but by 2007 Putin had grown deeply disenchanted and came to feel that the West was treating Russia as a “vassal.” Robert Gates recalls a security conference, in Munich, in 2007, at which Putin angrily charged that the United States had “overstepped its national borders in every area” and that the expansion of NATO was directed against Russian interests. “People were inclined to pass it off as a one-off,” Gates said. “But it was a harbinger.”

For Putin, it was a story of misplaced hopes and rejection: he became convinced that, no matter how accommodating he might try to be, Western powers—the United States, above all—had an innate disinclination to treat Russia as a full partner and a respected member of the international order. At home, Putin was increasingly drawn to an authoritarian, nationalist conception of the Russian state. He knew that the fall of Communism and Soviet power had left a vacuum—the lack of a “national idea” to replace Marxism-Leninism. When Putin returned to the Presidency for a third term, in 2012, he felt the need to develop a Russian ideology of his own, and called on currents that run deep in Russian political culture: nationalism, xenophobia, and social conservatism. When, four years ago, Putin endorsed anti-gay legislation, for instance, he was playing to entrenched conservative prejudices that predate Soviet Communism—perhaps not for Western-oriented intellectuals and the urban middle class but for many millions of others.


Advertisement


Putin was hardly surprised by the liberal umbrage voiced by the Obama Administration and other Western governments. That confrontation was the point, a means of cementing his authority at home by playing up the notion of an encircled, perpetually menaced Russian state. Although Putin grew up under Soviet atheism, he nonetheless decried secular Americans and Europeans for “rejecting their roots, including the Christian values that constitute the basis of Western civilization.” His conservatism, he insisted, “prevents movement backward and downward, into chaotic darkness and a return to a primitive state.”

He was alarmed by the Obama Administration’s embrace of the uprisings in Tunisia and Egypt. And he was infuriated by the U.S.-led assault on Muammar Qaddafi’s regime. In early 2011, as Libyans challenged Qaddafi, Putin was ostensibly offstage, serving as Prime Minister; his protégé Dmitry Medvedev was President, and made a crucial decision not to veto an American-backed U.N. Security Council resolution in favor of military action in Libya. In a rare public split, Putin condemned the decision, comparing the resolution to a “medieval call to the crusades.” In October, 2011, a crowd of Libyans found Qaddafi hiding in a culvert with a gold-plated 9-mm. pistol, dragged him out, and killed him—a gruesome event that was broadcast worldwide. From Putin’s perspective, this was a case study in Western intervention: stir up protests, give them rhetorical support and diplomatic cover, and, if that doesn’t work, send in the fighter jets. The epilogue comes in the form of uncontrollable violence and an inglorious end for the country’s leader. According to Mikhail Zygar, the former editor-in-chief of the independent Internet station TV Rain and the author of “All the Kremlin’s Men,” Putin absorbed the death of Qaddafi as an object lesson: weakness and compromise were impermissible. “When he was a pariah, no one touched him,” Zygar wrote. “But as soon as he opened up he was not only overthrown but killed in the street like a mangy old cur.”
Cartoon


Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

Putin also regarded the anti-Kremlin, pro-democracy demonstrations in Moscow, which started in 2011, as a rehearsal for an uprising that had to be thwarted. Together with the upheavals abroad, they compounded his grievances against the West. Obama’s national-security adviser at the time, Tom Donilon, observed that Putin’s concerns were then focussed on domestic political stability and perceived foreign threats to it. He was convinced that “there were efforts under way to undermine his regime,” Donilon said. “From the outset of his second run as President, in my judgment, he was bringing Russia to a posture of pretty active hostility toward the United States and the West.” In September, 2013, after Putin declined requests to turn over Edward Snowden, Obama cancelled a planned summit in Moscow. “The communication really broke after that,” Donilon said. He saw Putin steadily remove non-intelligence personnel from his orbit. “In sharp contrast to the Chinese situation, there’s not a Russian national-security ‘system,’ ” he said. “He works with a very small group of individuals, namely, former K.G.B. and F.S.B. people.”

Dissent has now been effectively marginalized. Opposition candidates are frequently kept off the ballot on legal technicalities, and, when they do make it on, they are denied media coverage, let alone the “administrative resources” enjoyed by pro-Kremlin politicians. Some thirty journalists have been murdered in Russia in the past decade and a half; human-rights groups that receive funding from abroad are registered in Moscow as “foreign agents.” And contemporary Russian television is not only compliant but celebratory. “Imagine you have two dozen TV channels and it is all Fox News,” Vladimir Milov, a former deputy energy minister under Putin and now a critic, said.


Advertisement


Yet those channels bear little resemblance to the dreary Soviet broadcasts with their stilted language and shabby production values. Just as Putin no longer fills prison camps with countless “enemies of the people,” as Stalin did, but, rather, makes a chilling example of a famous few, like the businessman Mikhail Khodorkovsky or the group Pussy Riot, his propagandists have taken their cue from foreign forms: magazine shows, shout-fests, game shows, and reality shows. There are many figures in public life who are not permitted to appear on any talk show or news program. Russians can still find independent information on Facebook and various Web sites; critical books and magazines are available in stores and online; Echo of Moscow, a liberal radio station, hangs on. But, even in the Internet era, more than eighty per cent of Russians get their news from television. Manipulation of TV coverage is a crucial factor in Putin’s extraordinarily high popularity ratings, typically in excess of eighty per cent—ratings that Donald Trump both admires and envies.

In October, 2012, on the occasion of Putin’s sixtieth birthday, Dmitry Kiselyov, the host of “News of the Week,” a favorite TV show of Putin’s, delivered a long encomium to the President: “In terms of the scope of his activities, Putin can be compared to only one of his predecessors in the twentieth century—Stalin.” NTV aired a documentary, “Visiting Putin,” that sent a broadcaster to his office and his house on the outskirts of Moscow. Although well-informed critics have said that Putin is worth tens of billions of dollars and has twenty residences at his disposal, the program portrayed him as a near-ascetic, who wakes at eight-thirty, lifts weights, swims long distances, eats a modest breakfast (beet juice, porridge, raw quail eggs), and works deep into the night.

“All these TV genres emphasize the stature of Putin, as being above everybody and everything—not just the ultimate boss but the embodiment of Russian statehood,” Masha Lipman, the editor of the journal Counterpoint, said. The most important political space is not the grounds of the Kremlin. It is the space within the President’s skull.

“A well-known person once said, ‘You can get much farther with a kind word and a Smith & Wesson than you can with just a kind word,’ ” Putin says in “President,” a long documentary that aired on state television in 2015. “Unfortunately, he was right.” Later in the documentary, the host asks Putin if he thinks that the West fears Russia, because a “once failing state” is now “suddenly a powerful political player.” He calls Putin “the leader, if I may say, of the conservative part of both European and American society.”

Putin accepts both premises. “The so-called establishment, the political and economic élites of these countries, they like us only when we are poor and standing there with a beggar’s bowl,” he says. “As soon as we start talking about our interests and they start feeling some element of geopolitical competition, well, they don’t like that.”

In February, 2014, hours after President Victor Yanukovych of Ukraine, weakened by months of protests, fled Kiev, Putin made the decision to invade Crimea. He feared that Ukraine would turn its back on Russia and gravitate toward Europe. It was a way for Putin to signal, loudly and rudely, that he was finished going along with the Western-led order. It was personal as well. Michael Morell, a former deputy director of the C.I.A., said that the fall of Yanukovych led Putin to worry about his own power and well-being. “It happened in the heart of the Slavic world, and he could not allow it to become a precedent for a similar movement in Russia against him,” Morell said. “He had to crush it.”




































Advertisement


Putin and members of his circle also saw the Syrian civil war as an opportunity to halt a trend that had started with the invasion of Iraq and continued through the downfall of dictators in Egypt and Libya. A former senior U.S. official who has interacted with Russians said, “There was this period of time when the United States, in Putin’s view, was able to use international institutions to take on regimes that we found offensive, right through Libya, and Putin was determined to put a stake in the ground in Syria, to have Russia be at the table, and be able to resist the international community’s efforts to continue this pattern of conduct.” As Russia’s Defense Minister, Sergey Shoigu, remarked last month, Russia’s intervention in Syria “helped solve the geopolitical task of breaking the chain of ‘color revolutions.’ ” Russian television, of course, covered the siege of Aleppo as an enlightened act of liberation, free of any brutality or abuses.

In the United States, the issue of what to do about Russia was a growing point of contention between the Pentagon and the White House. Ukraine’s government wanted advanced weaponry to help battle Russian-backed rebels. Evelyn Farkas, the Pentagon’s most senior policy officer for Russia, strongly supported the request; Obama and others on his national-security team turned it down. Instead, the U.S. provided “nonlethal” aid, including vehicles, radar, and body armor. In testimony before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, in 2014, Farkas argued for greater American force, calling Russia’s actions “an affront to the international order that we and our allies have worked to build since the end of the Cold War.”

The Administration believed, with considerable justification, that escalating the conflict would provoke retaliation from Russia, push Putin into a corner, and—since Putin would never let the rebels suffer a battlefield defeat
Late one evening in the spring of 2007, President Toomas Hendrik Ilves of Estonia was at home using his laptop computer. He had trouble getting online. The news sites were down. The banks were down. Government sites were down. The President figured that it must be some kind of technical glitch. “The first reaction is not ‘We’re under attack,’ ” he said recently. But, after a few calls, he realized that someone was attacking one of Estonia’s core assets.

The birthplace of Skype and the home of other tech firms, Estonia is known in technology circles as “eStonia”; it is one of the most wired countries in the world. But Estonia was involved in a conflict with Russia over plans to move a Second World War-era statue of a Soviet soldier out of the center of Tallinn, the capital. Estonians regarded it as a symbol of occupation. The Russian government had warned publicly that moving it would be a grave offense to history and “disastrous for Estonians.”

On April 27th, the statue was moved. Almost immediately, commentators in Russian-language chat rooms posted instructions on how to become a “script kiddie,” an amateur hacker. The attackers did not need to “hack” Estonia’s sites, exactly; they simply swamped them with a “distributed denial of service”—DDoS—assault, which continued for two weeks. Investigators never pinpointed the source of the attack, but Ilves, who left the Presidency in October, 2016, believes that it was an alliance between members of the Russian government and organized crime. “I call it a public-private partnership,” he said wryly. “It was a state actor that paid mafiosos.”
Russia was acquiring a reputation, in defense circles, for ambition, technical acumen, and speed. Barely a year after the Estonia attack, during a conflict with Georgia over the territory of South Ossetia, Russian tanks and planes crossed into the disputed territory at the same moment that hackers broke into fifty-four Web sites serving the government, media, and banks. They stole military information and immobilized the nation’s Internet. Georgian officers struggled to send orders to troops, and bewildered citizens had no way to find out what was happening.

The Georgia campaign was “one of the first times you’ve seen conventional ground operations married with cyber activity,” Sulmeyer said. “It showed not just an understanding that these techniques could be useful in combined ops but that the Russians were willing to do them. These guys implemented.”
Cartoon
“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

And yet Russian military planners and officials in the Kremlin regarded Georgia as a failure in the realm of international propaganda. Although Russia prevailed militarily, its narrative was overshadowed by the Georgian one from the first minutes of the campaign. For Russia, the five-day conflict represented a “total defeat in the information space,” said Pavel Zolotarev, a retired major general in the Russian Army, who is now a professor at the Academy of Military Sciences. “Our television showed how the shelling started, the incursion of Georgian forces, and so on,” Zolotarev, who helped draft Russia’s national-security doctrine in the nineteen-nineties, said. “These pictures were shown in the West two days later—but as if Russia were doing the shelling, attacking Georgia.” Russian generals took this lesson to heart, and began to study how to use the media and other instruments to wage “information war,” later putting what they learned into practice in Ukraine and then Syria.


Advertisement


The United States, meanwhile, had its own notable cyberwar success. In 2008, in tandem with Israeli intelligence, the U.S. launched the first digital attack on another country’s critical infrastructure, deploying a “worm,” known as Stuxnet, that was designed to cause centrifuges in Iran to spin out of control and thereby delay its nuclear development.

Yet diplomatic concerns inhibited some of the United States’ active measures. The Obama Administration had a “reset” policy with Russia, forging agreements and coöperating on select issues, despite an over-all increase in tension. “Cyber was an area where we were trying to work with Russia,” Evelyn Farkas, the Pentagon official, said. “That’s the irony. We were meeting with their big spies, trying to develop some kind of arms control for cyber.”

When Robert Knake arrived as the director of cybersecurity policy at the National Security Council, in 2011, the White House had a formal initiative to combat Chinese hacking, known as the Counter-China strategy. Knake recalled, “The question was: ‘O.K., now, what’s the counter-Russia plan? And the counter-Iran plan?’ ” The difficulty was that, in the aftermath of Stuxnet, the U.S. needed Iran’s coöperation on diplomatic priorities. From 2011 to 2013, Iranian-backed hackers waged a sustained DDoS attack on dozens of American banks and financial-services companies, but the U.S. didn’t respond in kind, partly because the Administration was negotiating with Iran to curb its nuclear program. “If we had unleashed the fury in response to that DDoS attack, I don’t know if we would have gotten an Iran deal,” Knake said. In other cases, the Administration declined to respond forcefully so that it could retain the option of deploying similar means on other countries. “As long as we think we’re getting more value from this set of rules than we’re losing, then this is the set of rules we want to promote,” Knake said.

A new doctrine was taking shape, under which Russia sought to study the nefarious tools of the West, as it understood them, so as to counteract them at home and put them into practice abroad. One indication of what that might look like came in February, 2013, when, in the pages of the Military-Industrial Courier—a journal with a tiny yet influential readership of Russian military strategists—Valery Gerasimov, the Russian chief of general staff, published an article with the anodyne title “The Value of Science in Prediction.” The article identified and urged the adoption of a Western strategy that involved military, technological, media, political, and intelligence tactics that would destabilize an enemy at minimal cost. The strategy, which came to be known as “hybrid war,” was an amalgam that states have used for generations, but the text took on the status of a legend, and is now known in international military circles as the Gerasimov doctrine.

Gerasimov is sixty-one years old, and is always photographed in a stiff, forest-green military uniform and with a perpetually sagging frown. He trained as a tank commander, and then climbed the military hierarchy; he led the Fifty-eighth Army during the Second Chechen War. In the article for Military-Industrial Courier, Gerasimov suggested that, in the future, wars will be fought with a four-to-one ratio of nonmilitary to military measures. The former, he wrote, should include efforts to shape the political and social landscape of the adversary through subversion, espionage, propaganda, and cyberattacks. His essay, written in the shadow of the Arab Spring, cited the anarchy and violence that erupted in Libya and Syria as proof that, when faced with the combination of pressure and interference, a “perfectly thriving state can, in a matter of months, and even days, be transformed into an arena of fierce armed conflict, become a victim of foreign intervention, and sink into a web of chaos, humanitarian catastrophe, and civil war.”


Advertisement


Such events were “typical of warfare in the twenty-first century,” he wrote. “The role of nonmilitary means of achieving political and strategic goals has grown, and, in many cases, they have exceeded the power of force of weapons in their effectiveness.”

Pavel Zolotarev, the retired Russian general, explained that, when Gerasimov’s essay was published, “we had come to the conclusion, having analyzed the actions of Western countries in the post-Soviet space—first of all the United States—that manipulation in the information sphere is a very effective tool.” Previously, one had to use “grandfather-style methods: scatter leaflets, throw around some printed materials, manipulate the radio or television,” Zolotarev said. “But, all of a sudden, new means have appeared.”

Gerasimov’s prescriptions began to look prophetic a year later, when Russia annexed Crimea in a quick operation that caught U.S. officials by surprise and contravened international law. Russian-made propaganda whipped up pro-Moscow sentiment in a population that was already wary of Ukrainian political leaders in Kiev and had deep, historical ties with Russia. Unidentified soldiers (the so-called “little green men”) surrounded Ukrainian bases in Crimea, and within days Russia had pulled off a hastily organized, stage-managed referendum.

Even with the rise of new technologies, the underlying truth about such operations hasn’t changed. They are less a way to conjure up something out of nothing than to stir a pot that is already bubbling. In the U.S.,
Russia was acquiring a reputation, in defense circles, for ambition, technical acumen, and speed. Barely a year after the Estonia attack, during a conflict with Georgia over the territory of South Ossetia, Russian tanks and planes crossed into the disputed territory at the same moment that hackers broke into fifty-four Web sites serving the government, media, and banks. They stole military information and immobilized the nation’s Internet. Georgian officers struggled to send orders to troops, and bewildered citizens had no way to find out what was happening.

The Georgia campaign was “one of the first times you’ve seen conventional ground operations married with cyber activity,” Sulmeyer said. “It showed not just an understanding that these techniques could be useful in combined ops but that the Russians were willing to do them. These guys implemented.”
Cartoon
“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

And yet Russian military planners and officials in the Kremlin regarded Georgia as a failure in the realm of international propaganda. Although Russia prevailed militarily, its narrative was overshadowed by the Georgian one from the first minutes of the campaign. For Russia, the five-day conflict represented a “total defeat in the information space,” said Pavel Zolotarev, a retired major general in the Russian Army, who is now a professor at the Academy of Military Sciences. “Our television showed how the shelling started, the incursion of Georgian forces, and so on,” Zolotarev, who helped draft Russia’s national-security doctrine in the nineteen-nineties, said. “These pictures were shown in the West two days later—but as if Russia were doing the shelling, attacking Georgia.” Russian generals took this lesson to heart, and began to study how to use the media and other instruments to wage “information war,” later putting what they learned into practice in Ukraine and then Syria.


Advertisement


The United States, meanwhile, had its own notable cyberwar success. In 2008, in tandem with Israeli intelligence, the U.S. launched the first digital attack on another country’s critical infrastructure, deploying a “worm,” known as Stuxnet, that was designed to cause centrifuges in Iran to spin out of control and thereby delay its nuclear development.

Yet diplomatic concerns inhibited some of the United States’ active measures. The Obama Administration had a “reset” policy with Russia, forging agreements and coöperating on select issues, despite an over-all increase in tension. “Cyber was an area where we were trying to work with Russia,” Evelyn Farkas, the Pentagon official, said. “That’s the irony. We were meeting with their big spies, trying to develop some kind of arms control for cyber.”

When Robert Knake arrived as the director of cybersecurity policy at the National Security Council, in 2011, the White House had a formal initiative to combat Chinese hacking, known as the Counter-China strategy. Knake recalled, “The question was: ‘O.K., now, what’s the counter-Russia plan? And the counter-Iran plan?’ ” The difficulty was that, in the aftermath of Stuxnet, the U.S. needed Iran’s coöperation on diplomatic priorities. From 2011 to 2013, Iranian-backed hackers waged a sustained DDoS attack on dozens of American banks and financial-services companies, but the U.S. didn’t respond in kind, partly because the Administration was negotiating with Iran to curb its nuclear program. “If we had unleashed the fury in response to that DDoS attack, I don’t know if we would have gotten an Iran deal,” Knake said. In other cases, the Administration declined to respond forcefully so that it could retain the option of deploying similar means on other countries. “As long as we think we’re getting more value from this set of rules than we’re losing, then this is the set of rules we want to promote,” Knake said.

A new doctrine was taking shape, under which Russia sought to study the nefarious tools of the West, as it understood them, so as to counteract them at home and put them into practice abroad. One indication of what that might look like came in February, 2013, when, in the pages of the Military-Industrial Courier—a journal with a tiny yet influential readership of Russian military strategists—Valery Gerasimov, the Russian chief of general staff, published an article with the anodyne title “The Value of Science in Prediction.” The article identified and urged the adoption of a Western strategy that involved military, technological, media, political, and intelligence tactics that would destabilize an enemy at minimal cost. The strategy, which came to be known as “hybrid war,” was an amalgam that states have used for generations, but the text took on the status of a legend, and is now known in international military circles as the Gerasimov doctrine.

Gerasimov is sixty-one years old, and is always photographed in a stiff, forest-green military uniform and with a perpetually sagging frown. He trained as a tank commander, and then climbed the military hierarchy; he led the Fifty-eighth Army during the Second Chechen War. In the article for Military-Industrial Courier, Gerasimov suggested that, in the future, wars will be fought with a four-to-one ratio of nonmilitary to military measures. The former, he wrote, should include efforts to shape the political and social landscape of the adversary through subversion, espionage, propaganda, and cyberattacks. His essay, written in the shadow of the Arab Spring, cited the anarchy and violence that erupted in Libya and Syria as proof that, when faced with the combination of pressure and interference, a “perfectly thriving state can, in a matter of months, and even days, be transformed into an arena of fierce armed conflict, become a victim of foreign intervention, and sink into a web of chaos, humanitarian catastrophe, and civil war.”


Advertisement


Such events were “typical of warfare in the twenty-first century,” he wrote. “The role of nonmilitary means of achieving political and strategic goals has grown, and, in many cases, they have exceeded the power of force of weapons in their effectiveness.”

Pavel Zolotarev, the retired Russian general, explained that, when Gerasimov’s essay was published, “we had come to the conclusion, having analyzed the actions of Western countries in the post-Soviet space—first of all the United States—that manipulation in the information sphere is a very effective tool.” Previously, one had to use “grandfather-style methods: scatter leaflets, throw around some printed materials, manipulate the radio or television,” Zolotarev said. “But, all of a sudden, new means have appeared.”

Gerasimov’s prescriptions began to look prophetic a year later, when Russia annexed Crimea in a quick operation that caught U.S. officials by surprise and contravened international law. Russian-made propaganda whipped up pro-Moscow sentiment in a population that was already wary of Ukrainian political leaders in Kiev and had deep, historical ties with Russia. Unidentified soldiers (the so-called “little green men”) surrounded Ukrainian bases in Crimea, and within days Russia had pulled off a hastily organized, stage-managed referendum.

Even with the rise of new technologies, the underlying truth about such operations hasn’t changed. They are less a way to conjure up something out of nothing than to stir a pot that is already bubbling. In the U.S.,
Russia was acquiring a reputation, in defense circles, for ambition, technical acumen, and speed. Barely a year after the Estonia attack, during a conflict with Georgia over the territory of South Ossetia, Russian tanks and planes crossed into the disputed territory at the same moment that hackers broke into fifty-four Web sites serving the government, media, and banks. They stole military information and immobilized the nation’s Internet. Georgian officers struggled to send orders to troops, and bewildered citizens had no way to find out what was happening.

The Georgia campaign was “one of the first times you’ve seen conventional ground operations married with cyber activity,” Sulmeyer said. “It showed not just an understanding that these techniques could be useful in combined ops but that the Russians were willing to do them. These guys implemented.”
Cartoon
“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

And yet Russian military planners and officials in the Kremlin regarded Georgia as a failure in the realm of international propaganda. Although Russia prevailed militarily, its narrative was overshadowed by the Georgian one from the first minutes of the campaign. For Russia, the five-day conflict represented a “total defeat in the information space,” said Pavel Zolotarev, a retired major general in the Russian Army, who is now a professor at the Academy of Military Sciences. “Our television showed how the shelling started, the incursion of Georgian forces, and so on,” Zolotarev, who helped draft Russia’s national-security doctrine in the nineteen-nineties, said. “These pictures were shown in the West two days later—but as if Russia were doing the shelling, attacking Georgia.” Russian generals took this lesson to heart, and began to study how to use the media and other instruments to wage “information war,” later putting what they learned into practice in Ukraine and then Syria.


Advertisement


The United States, meanwhile, had its own notable cyberwar success. In 2008, in tandem with Israeli intelligence, the U.S. launched the first digital attack on another country’s critical infrastructure, deploying a “worm,” known as Stuxnet, that was designed to cause centrifuges in Iran to spin out of control and thereby delay its nuclear development.

Yet diplomatic concerns inhibited some of the United States’ active measures. The Obama Administration had a “reset” policy with Russia, forging agreements and coöperating on select issues, despite an over-all increase in tension. “Cyber was an area where we were trying to work with Russia,” Evelyn Farkas, the Pentagon official, said. “That’s the irony. We were meeting with their big spies, trying to develop some kind of arms control for cyber.”

When Robert Knake arrived as the director of cybersecurity policy at the National Security Council, in 2011, the White House had a formal initiative to combat Chinese hacking, known as the Counter-China strategy. Knake recalled, “The question was: ‘O.K., now, what’s the counter-Russia plan? And the counter-Iran plan?’ ” The difficulty was that, in the aftermath of Stuxnet, the U.S. needed Iran’s coöperation on diplomatic priorities. From 2011 to 2013, Iranian-backed hackers waged a sustained DDoS attack on dozens of American banks and financial-services companies, but the U.S. didn’t respond in kind, partly because the Administration was negotiating with Iran to curb its nuclear program. “If we had unleashed the fury in response to that DDoS attack, I don’t know if we would have gotten an Iran deal,” Knake said. In other cases, the Administration declined to respond forcefully so that it could retain the option of deploying similar means on other countries. “As long as we think we’re getting more value from this set of rules than we’re losing, then this is the set of rules we want to promote,” Knake said.

A new doctrine was taking shape, under which Russia sought to study the nefarious tools of the West, as it understood them, so as to counteract them at home and put them into practice abroad. One indication of what that might look like came in February, 2013, when, in the pages of the Military-Industrial Courier—a journal with a tiny yet influential readership of Russian military strategists—Valery Gerasimov, the Russian chief of general staff, published an article with the anodyne title “The Value of Science in Prediction.” The article identified and urged the adoption of a Western strategy that involved military, technological, media, political, and intelligence tactics that would destabilize an enemy at minimal cost. The strategy, which came to be known as “hybrid war,” was an amalgam that states have used for generations, but the text took on the status of a legend, and is now known in international military circles as the Gerasimov doctrine.

Gerasimov is sixty-one years old, and is always photographed in a stiff, forest-green military uniform and with a perpetually sagging frown. He trained as a tank commander, and then climbed the military hierarchy; he led the Fifty-eighth Army during the Second Chechen War. In the article for Military-Industrial Courier, Gerasimov suggested that, in the future, wars will be fought with a four-to-one ratio of nonmilitary to military measures. The former, he wrote, should include efforts to shape the political and social landscape of the adversary through subversion, espionage, propaganda, and cyberattacks. His essay, written in the shadow of the Arab Spring, cited the anarchy and violence that erupted in Libya and Syria as proof that, when faced with the combination of pressure and interference, a “perfectly thriving state can, in a matter of months, and even days, be transformed into an arena of fierce armed conflict, become a victim of foreign intervention, and sink into a web of chaos, humanitarian catastrophe, and civil war.”


Advertisement


Such events were “typical of warfare in the twenty-first century,” he wrote. “The role of nonmilitary means of achieving political and strategic goals has grown, and, in many cases, they have exceeded the power of force of weapons in their effectiveness.”

Pavel Zolotarev, the retired Russian general, explained that, when Gerasimov’s essay was published, “we had come to the conclusion, having analyzed the actions of Western countries in the post-Soviet space—first of all the United States—that manipulation in the information sphere is a very effective tool.” Previously, one had to use “grandfather-style methods: scatter leaflets, throw around some printed materials, manipulate the radio or television,” Zolotarev said. “But, all of a sudden, new means have appeared.”

Gerasimov’s prescriptions began to look prophetic a year later, when Russia annexed Crimea in a quick operation that caught U.S. officials by surprise and contravened international law. Russian-made propaganda whipped up pro-Moscow sentiment in a population that was already wary of Ukrainian political leaders in Kiev and had deep, historical ties with Russia. Unidentified soldiers (the so-called “little green men”) surrounded Ukrainian bases in Crimea, and within days Russia had pulled off a hastily organized, stage-managed referendum.

Even with the rise of new technologies, the underlying truth about such operations hasn’t changed. They are less a way to conjure up something out of nothing than to stir a pot that is already bubbling. In the U.S.,
Russia was acquiring a reputation, in defense circles, for ambition, technical acumen, and speed. Barely a year after the Estonia attack, during a conflict with Georgia over the territory of South Ossetia, Russian tanks and planes crossed into the disputed territory at the same moment that hackers broke into fifty-four Web sites serving the government, media, and banks. They stole military information and immobilized the nation’s Internet. Georgian officers struggled to send orders to troops, and bewildered citizens had no way to find out what was happening.

The Georgia campaign was “one of the first times you’ve seen conventional ground operations married with cyber activity,” Sulmeyer said. “It showed not just an understanding that these techniques could be useful in combined ops but that the Russians were willing to do them. These guys implemented.”
Cartoon
“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

Share
Tweet



Buy a cartoon

And yet Russian military planners and officials in the Kremlin regarded Georgia as a failure in the realm of international propaganda. Although Russia prevailed militarily, its narrative was overshadowed by the Georgian one from the first minutes of the campaign. For Russia, the five-day conflict represented a “total defeat in the information space,” said Pavel Zolotarev, a retired major general in the Russian Army, who is now a professor at the Academy of Military Sciences. “Our television showed how the shelling started, the incursion of Georgian forces, and so on,” Zolotarev, who helped draft Russia’s national-security doctrine in the nineteen-nineties, said. “These pictures were shown in the West two days later—but as if Russia were doing the shelling, attacking Georgia.” Russian generals took this lesson to heart, and began to study how to use the media and other instruments to wage “information war,” later putting what they learned into practice in Ukraine and then Syria.


Advertisement


The United States, meanwhile, had its own notable cyberwar success. In 2008, in tandem with Israeli intelligence, the U.S. launched the first digital attack on another country’s critical infrastructure, deploying a “worm,” known as Stuxnet, that was designed to cause centrifuges in Iran to spin out of control and thereby delay its nuclear development.

Yet diplomatic concerns inhibited some of the United States’ active measures. The Obama Administration had a “reset” policy with Russia, forging agreements and coöperating on select issues, despite an over-all increase in tension. “Cyber was an area where we were trying to work with Russia,” Evelyn Farkas, the Pentagon official, said. “That’s the irony. We were meeting with their big spies, trying to develop some kind of arms control for cyber.”

When Robert Knake arrived as the director of cybersecurity policy at the National Security Council, in 2011, the White House had a formal initiative to combat Chinese hacking, known as the Counter-China strategy. Knake recalled, “The question was: ‘O.K., now, what’s the counter-Russia plan? And the counter-Iran plan?’ ” The difficulty was that, in the aftermath of Stuxnet, the U.S. needed Iran’s coöperation on diplomatic priorities. From 2011 to 2013, Iranian-backed hackers waged a sustained DDoS attack on dozens of American banks and financial-services companies, but the U.S. didn’t respond in kind, partly because the Administration was negotiating with Iran to curb its nuclear program. “If we had unleashed the fury in response to that DDoS attack, I don’t know if we would have gotten an Iran deal,” Knake said. In other cases, the Administration declined to respond forcefully so that it could retain the option of deploying similar means on other countries. “As long as we think we’re getting more value from this set of rules than we’re losing, then this is the set of rules we want to promote,” Knake said.

A new doctrine was taking shape, under which Russia sought to study the nefarious tools of the West, as it understood them, so as to counteract them at home and put them into practice abroad. One indication of what that might look like came in February, 2013, when, in the pages of the Military-Industrial Courier—a journal with a tiny yet influential readership of Russian military strategists—Valery Ger

Michael and Raif first met when they were both waiting outside the college administration office. They got into conversation, found they had similar interests and became inseparable.

When it came time for Spring break Michael was faced with a bit of dilemma. His parents, who were both teachers and were conducting language courses in China and if he went home to Huntington, West Virgina he would just be spending a couple of weeks in the house alone. When Raif found out about this he very kindly invited Michael to spend the break with his family in Florida.

When Michael arrived at their beautiful big house in Dunedin, he was introduced to Raif’s mother, who insisted on being called Ash, and his two twin sisters Nena and Tara. All three of the women were quite beautiful, the family’s origins were Asian and they were quite exotic looking with light brown skin and long black hair.

“Raif’s father is away as usual,” sighed, Ash when she was showing Michael his room, “Business means more to him than anything.”

When she leaned over the bed to straighten up the cover he couldn’t help noticing a pair of rather delightful tits swinging there and when she moved around the bed he could see that her legs looked pretty darn nice too. This woman, who was possibly around 45, was still capable of giving a much younger man a big hard on.

It was early evening when they arrived and after supper Michael got the opportunity to admire the two siblings. They were typical eighteen-year-old girls, short skirts and flimsy tops and lots of talk about music and their ambitions to marry some celebrity or other. It was impossible for Michael not to pay attention to their rather nicely developed figures, even though he felt a bit guilty with them being his best friends sisters.

The following morning he found that he was going to spend quite a bit of time with the three women as Raef’s girlfriend appeared on the scene in a two-seater sports car and whisked him off to who knows where. About an hour after that Nena and Tara had to go for their yoga class leaving him alone with Ash. She suggested that he change into his shorts and go and sit by the pool and she would bring out some cold drinks.

Michael liked a bit of luxury and as he lay on the chez lounge, just wearing his swimming trunks and sunglasses, he felt a bit like a movie star. When the cold drinks arrived he was somewhat surprised by Ash who had changed into a very skimpy swimsuit revealing that she had extraordinarily nice curves.

As she bent over to give him his glass he had the feeling that she noticed the big bulge he had developed in his shorts. Ash sat beside him and sipped on her drink casting an occasional glance in his direction. It was obvious she was attracted to the well built, blonde, fresh-faced young man.

The sun was getting quite hot and Ash decided she was going to leap into the water. As she bobbed up and down she urged him to join her, which he did. It was when he was in the water also bobbing up and down that he noticed she had, either by accident or design, lost her bikini top. This revealed a pair of tits that he would have given anything to grope.

When Ash saw him looking at her bare breasts she smiled and dived under water for what he thought was to retrieve her top but he suddenly felt a tugging at his shorts and off they came. She then broke the surface waving them in her hand. Michael was not quite sure how to react but he thought if they were having that kind of fun he pull the strings on her bikini bottom and soon he was waving those in the air.

They were both laughing and splashing around until their wet bodies collided and then they held on to each other tightly. Ash’s full lips soon met his and there in the middle of the pool their tongues entwined.

He had never fucked anyone under water before but he thought that this was going to be the time. However, Ash broke his grasp and swam to the side of the pool. Hauling herself up onto the edge she sat and positioned herself so that he could swim up between her legs.

He didn’t need a second invitation and swimming over he put his head between her wet thighs and began to lick her pink folds as she held onto his wet hair. She was in a state of euphoria as his tongue explored all around the lips of her pussy. It wasn’t long before she began to lean back and groan with every flick of his tongue. As she started to cum she lashed with her feet, kicking up the water and became so carried away he had to hold on to her slippery thighs to continue the action.

Breathing heavy Ash broke free of his grasp once again and slipped into the water beside him. With her head under the surface, she took his dick into her mouth. It had shrunk a little due to being submerged and this enabled her to absorbed it all at once and manipulate it using her tongue giving him an extraordinary sensation.

By the time she had run out of breath and popped up out of the water his dick was getting bigger and bigger. She gave it a friendly squeeze and then suggested they climb out so that he could put it somewhere to get warm.

Once on the side she lay down and spread her legs. Michael literally jumped on top of her and rammed his re-rehabilitated dick deep inside. Ash wrapped her still damp legs around him and began to gyrate her ass as he plunged his dick in and out at an ever increasing pace. When he shot his load she exhaled and her legs tightened around his waist and she squeezed him hard.

“Thank you, Michael,” she said, when it was all over, “I really needed that.” Then after a little kiss she went off into the house as if nothing unusual had occurred.

Michael was feeling a little guilty and embarrassed all day. The twins could see that he was a little subdued and asked him he’d like to see their tree house. Their father had it built for them when they were children but they said they still used it to meditate when they wanted to get away from it all.

The twins climbed up the ladder first and as Michael followed them he could clearly see their thongs and the tops of their beautiful long legs. They helped him up onto the balcony and then they all crept in through the door that was too low for an adult to enter standing.

Inside it was almost palatial with thick carpets, lots of cushions and really expensive looking furnishings.

“We can’t sit on the furniture anymore,” laughed Nena, “we’re just a little too big, so we just lie amongst all these comfy cushions and dream that we’re making love to some handsome movie star.”

“Michael looks a bit like a movie star,” Tara said, “In fact, I think he looks like Zac Efron.”

“I would love to fuck Zac Efron,” squealed Nena, “He is super cute.”

“Well, here he is,” laughed Tara, pointing to Michael who was lying spread across the floor with his head resting on an over stuffed cushion, “You wouldn’t mind if she fucked you would you Michael?”

Before he could even reply, Nena, acting like a movie star herself, leaned over his body, looked into his eyes and said, “Zac, would you mind if I sucked your dick.”

Tara thought this very funny and rolled all over the floor laughing, then sitting up she urged Nena on, “Go ahead, suck his dick and I’ll watch.”

Michael didn’t have a lot to say in this conversation, he just lay back as Nena opened up his flies, struggled to get his swollen dick out, and then she licked it like one would lick an ice cream. After that, she took it deep into her mouth and began to work it every which way. Tara came over for a close-up view.

“He’s going to cum in your mouth Nena,” she warned, “I can tell from the veins sticking out of his neck that he’s about to cum.”

Even though her mouth was full, Nena managed to mumble that she didn’t care. Michael was about to cum and he had a job to stop himself calling out “Holy fuck,” at the top of his voice as he shot his load.

When Nena moved away it still kept on spurting out and dripping off of her face. Then Tara leaned forward to taste it.

“Yum – that tastes good,” she grinned, “But after that – will he be up to fucking both of us.”

“Well you go first,” said Tara, “If he can’t cum the third time – I’ll wait until later. OK Michael,” she laughed, as Nena began to strip off her clothes revealing her beautiful brown tits with erect nipples pointing in his direction.

Michael didn’t say anything, he made his way to those nipples and began to suck, then placing a big cushion under her bum he rammed his dick into her as far as it would go. As her tits jiggled and his breathing got heavy, Tara reached from behind and massaged his balls. The next few moments it was if Michael at gone completely mad. He was groaning and grunting like a caveman as he shoved it in and out as fast and as hard as he could go.

When he filled up Nena’s cunt, it was her turn to go a little mad and she began to fling her arms around all of the place shouting, “Fuck – fuck – fuck,” time and time again.

Tara had got so excited participating and watching the action she couldn’t wait to get her clothes off. The idea that she might wait until later seemed to have faded from her memory. Michael, who was lying on his back recuperating from his all-out-fuck with her sister, now found Tara diddling with his dick in an effort to get it up to its former glory.

Nena joined in to help her sister and so twenty slender fingers were playing with his balls and his dick. Tara then decided to position herself so that her pussy was over his face. Michael forced his hands between her legs and with his fingers prized the lips apart and began to lick her furiously. Meanwhile the other continued to play with his balls.

When his dick became hard again it was time for Tara to move forward in a reverse cowboy, while her twin dangled her tits in his mouth like ripe fruit. With a well-lubricated cunt sliding up and down on his dick, and a pair of nipples brushing across his lips, his body felt so hot he thought he might burst into flames. He was desperate to cum but she had established her own pace – she was doing it real slow.

When he did explode inside of her he felt every drop forcing its way by his nerve endings. Tara continued to sit on it for a while and then she eased off and the two sisters embraced as if they had accomplished some major achievement, then thanked him for a wonderful afternoon.

When Raef came home at supper time he was not in a good mood. When Michael asked what was wrong he said his bitch of a girlfriend was not really interested in sex anymore.

“To think, while I’ve using up every ounce of my energy and my charm trying to get my leg over, without success, somewhere in this world some lucky bastard has had his brains fucked out. It’s not fair is it?”