Though, if she really focused, maybe she could count how many men were inside of her. She was glad her friends managed to convince her to come to this... party, it was certainly the most fun she's had in awhile.She closed her eyes, focusing on the job at hand, and in her hands. Her soft fingers rubbed the massive members as fast as she could, feeling her body shake and shiver with every thrust that was made by the two men at her backside. One giant cock after another, slamming themselves inside of. . until everyone laughed. Even the only two other woman in the whole office didn't share her disgust but joined in the laughter. One of them jokingly wrote that suggestion on the board. Next to "Give chocolates" was "Blowjobs from Allison", which also found itself in the meeting minutes and it spiraled out of control from there as the site manager approved the idea and Allison's own manager approved her time off from her current tasks.This dumb joke wouldn't die and was ruining her entire. We had set out from RAF Halton at seven of the morning to march the four or so miles to Tring station to entrain for Southport. The sun was blazing from an azure sky as we stepped off, in full marching order with rifles at the slope, following the pipe band off the parade ground and down to the Wendover - Tring Road, where the pipe band said –- piped -- their farewell, and we continued towards the railhead, now marching at ease with rifles slung over shoulders.All the kit required at summer. At length, Martin sighs and sits back. "I think we've had enough of this. Stay put for a moment, if you please."He leans forward, and dishes clatter. They've been spread before us, I realize. Probably on a blanket, like an indoor picnic.Martin rises. His heels tap the floor, and after a few stridesI hear the muffled thump of dishes being set on cloth-covered wood. A table, I guess, or perhaps a sideboard. When he returns, he sets something substantial on the stone floor, which is definitely.