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Description
Every day at two o'clock in the afternoon, the manager would come to this side of the factory to inspect it, and his secretary would always follow him.
I am a worker, responsible for driving the forklift trucks in the factory, and from a young age I had little interest in the aesthetics and fun of the so-called high-handed upper classes. My pursuits were simple: high-calorie food, a high-powered Ford truck and tickets to a weekly baseball game. As far as women go, my type is a white woman with a big ass, big breasts, a thin waist and young. The secretary, aside from the muscles, fit my sexual fantasies and needs almost perfectly.
"Hey Joe, thinking of haing a fuck with that chick?" Old Billy called to me from behind, "Stop staring at her and drive your fucking forklift ok?"
I turned the steering wheel of the forklift, the friction of the it against my stomach causing me some irritation.
About half a month ago, I was speeding through the factory in my freshly unloaded forklift when I rounded the corner and saw the manager walking head-on less than half a metre away from me, and just as I reacted that I might lose my job, my body suddenly flew out in front of the forklift for no reason. By the time I reacted, my body was already on the ground and that woman had somehow appeared in front of the manager, holding her back. And I could clearly see that my forklift was merely held in place by the woman with only one hand.
"Don't drive so fast in the plant again, Mr. Nate." The woman looked down at me, lying on the floor, as if she were looking down at a wild dog, her tone cold and without a trace of softness.
As I watched the woman and the manager's distant backs, I resolved that one day, I would fuck her in bed

Description
Every day at two o'clock in the afternoon, the manager would come to this side of the factory to inspect it, and his secretary would always follow him.
I am a worker, responsible for driving the forklift trucks in the factory, and from a young age I had little interest in the aesthetics and fun of the so-called high-handed upper classes. My pursuits were simple: high-calorie food, a high-powered Ford truck and tickets to a weekly baseball game. As far as women go, my type is a white woman with a big ass, big breasts, a thin waist and young. The secretary, aside from the muscles, fit my sexual fantasies and needs almost perfectly.
"Hey Joe, thinking of haing a fuck with that chick?" Old Billy called to me from behind, "Stop staring at her and drive your fucking forklift ok?"
I turned the steering wheel of the forklift, the friction of the it against my stomach causing me some irritation.
About half a month ago, I was speeding through the factory in my freshly unloaded forklift when I rounded the corner and saw the manager walking head-on less than half a metre away from me, and just as I reacted that I might lose my job, my body suddenly flew out in front of the forklift for no reason. By the time I reacted, my body was already on the ground and that woman had somehow appeared in front of the manager, holding her back. And I could clearly see that my forklift was merely held in place by the woman with only one hand.
"Don't drive so fast in the plant again, Mr. Nate." The woman looked down at me, lying on the floor, as if she were looking down at a wild dog, her tone cold and without a trace of softness.
As I watched the woman and the manager's distant backs, I resolved that one day, I would fuck her in bed