The phone repairman is here.

Luckily, I didn't have a cold.
Imagine burying your face between a girl's thighs, passionately savoring her honey pot.
When the sweetest moment arrives, getting adequate air is a problem; especially since this girl
's short skirt is covering your head, and to make matters worse, you're squeezed into a cramped space with
hard surfaces on three sides, and the remaining side facing the girl we're discussing.
So, in this situation, if I also had a stuffy nose from a cold, it would be a real problem. Fortunately
, I didn't have a cold.
Undoubtedly, you must find it strange that I've fallen into such a perverted predicament? However, on the other
hand, you probably don't care why I'm in this situation; you just want to hear my description of how to have sex with this girl!
What a hassle!
Actually, I only went there to fix a phone. The office was on the
52nd floor of the tallest building on Wall Street, and its furnishings were impressive; I guessed it might be a law firm, but I don't usually
pay attention when I'm assigned there. I just go in, fix the phone, and come out; and they don't
pay me by the hour.
The receptionist handed me over to a junior employee, who led me inside, pointed out the problem
phone, and then left. The room was empty, but a large, old-fashioned desk against
the wall indicated someone was using it.
After testing the phone, I followed the wires to the phone box. Naturally, it was hidden
behind that large table. Not wanting to move it, I pushed my chair aside and crawled under the table. It was
indeed cramped and dark. I took out my flashlight and screwdriver, ready to get to work.
Just as I was about to open the phone box, I heard soft footsteps approaching the desk. Before I could
even speak, the person who made the footsteps sat down, pulled the chair in, and kicked me in the back,
letting out a startled gasp—definitely a woman's—and the chair immediately slid away.
I turned my head, but from my position, all I could see were her calves below the knees. "The phone repairman,"
I quickly explained, "I'm checking the box inside."
"Oh," a sweet, relieved voice said, "you really startled me." "
I'm sorry, ma'am, it won't take more than a few minutes."
"Really—oh, really," the voice said, "I, I have to type this letter for my boss right away.
He has to leave, you know, and he's in a hurry."
Well, I guess a gentleman would climb out of his desk and wait for her to finish typing,
but my to-do list for today still has 3... There was a place I needed to run to, and I really didn't want to stand there
wasting time staring at my toes, so I said, "It's alright, ma'am, you can start typing; it won't get in the way
of my repairs."
A pause followed. "Ah, okay," she said hesitantly, "if you're sure you can still—"
"No problem," I said, turning to deal with the phone junction box.
She moved her chair closer to the desk, carefully placing her feet beside my crouching body. I heard a piece of
paper get caught in the typewriter, followed by the rapid clicking of typing. For a while, I couldn't help but wonder why such a luxurious
and grand company didn't provide its secretaries with computers for word processing—let alone use modern office
furniture. But this "fleeting time" was short-lived, because something more interesting appeared beside me, occupying my thoughts—
the legs next to me.
Of course, I should have expected it; but from another perspective, she should have expected it too;
legs so close to a woman, coupled with a delicate, slightly smoky scent, mixed with a few unique internal scents, quickly
affected my attention, not to mention my penis. Several times I stared at the phone line in front of me,
completely unaware of what I was looking at, and finally decided to surrender to my instincts. I turned my head and
examined the pair of calves in front of me in the beam of the flashlight.
I didn't see what her upper body looked like, but her legs alone made my mouth water. She didn't
cross her legs, just kept them lightly together, her feet flat on the floor. I was delighted to discover she wasn't wearing stockings. Her
short skirt, pulled high above her knees while she sat, revealed smooth, hairless
calves with beautiful curves and dimples on her knees—very sexy. Her thighs were a sweet temptation, gradually swelling before
disappearing into her skirt.
I don't know what I was thinking, or if I was even thinking anything? I suspected this might get me into serious
trouble, but in the current situation, instinct was on my side. A man's penis is always reckless. Anyway
, it happened. I moved around in the cramped space, placing my hand on her calf, just
above her ankle.
The typewriter suddenly stopped. I froze, and so did she. I didn't know what would happen next
. Would she kick me in the face? Scream? Call the police (or the military police chief)?
A long, chilling pause—at least long enough for me, actually, maybe only
10 to 15 seconds—before the typing started again.
Wow! If that letter wasn't more important than anything else in the world, maybe this girl wanted to play a game,
whatever…
Very slowly, very gently, I moved my hand upwards, and the typewriter started vibrating wildly, the typing even
faster than before. Her legs felt as smooth and tempting as they appeared. My hand slowly traced
the curve of her calves upwards to her knees. When I paused there, my alluring typist still didn't
react.
Was she considering whether to continue? At least I could guarantee I wouldn't give up halfway—I simply changed
to a better posture, turning myself to face her legs, trying to make myself more comfortable in a half-squat, bringing me
closer to my goal. I began to reach out and explore her left leg, more freely and fully than before, but
still below the knee. Just as I was about to go deeper, I heard the sound of paper being pulled out of the typewriter
. Just as I was wondering if my pleasant activity was about to end, another piece of paper was immediately rolled in, and typing began again.
Encouraged by this, I let my hands slide over her slightly concave knees, toward her sweet, plump thighs
. I won't deny that I was extremely excited. Being in this strange situation, and feeling the soft,
pleasant touch of her skin between my fingers, made my heart pound. When my hands approached inside her skirt, I felt my already
engorged penis become even harder.
Her skirt wasn't a tight-fitting one; both hands could slide inside at the same time. I felt a slight
tremor in my palm—the first real reaction I sensed from her. As my hand slid down, the typewriter
continued to click. When I touched the edge of her panties and slipped my fingers inside, I heard the typing sound
become erratic, and her legs opened, albeit only slightly.
As my hand slipped inside her panties, her legs opened wider, pressing forward, and my fingers touched…

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