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Nowhere was this relationship closer than at the table. Earlier thatmorning, we'd sat at the transient table, generally an unhappy group ofstrangers - more like outcasts with no family. The three of us, havingknown each other, weren't affected, but the other women had merely satand had eaten self-consciously, looking at their plate, burning withembarrassment that they knew no one there.That afternoon we were honored with places at a work unit table, thesame unit we had been assigned that morning. Apparently, DirectressMintar had decided that we would get the full farm experience. ViceDirectress Manfred escorted us to the table, introduced us, and passedus off to Ingrid, one of the unit leaders, a tall brunette with angularfeatures. We had met the minimums earlier when we had worked andshowered together, so we could not be refused, but Ingrid didn't botherto hide her disgust at integrating three "babies," the word for newtransfers, who would only be there for a week. She pulled us. I grabbed her in my hands and kissed her hard the taste on her lips tickling at the back of my mind something familiar, pulling her the short distance to the small bed. The mood set, this wasn’t the time for slow sensual teasing. I pulled off her tight short black one piece, and found her black satin panties already soaked through. Kissing down her body, I groped her roughly, not taking note of the reddened marks already on her chest. Not wasting any time, I had her panties down, pausing only to comment, “You are wet honey!” As I got closer the scent was a bit different, muskier and thicker, but I thought to myself it must have been from the dancing. I dove in and felt my face flush, feeling shame, jealousy and more embarrassed at the fact that I was turned on as some other man’s semen slid out of my girlfriend’s freshly fucked pussy into my mouth. “Does it taste familiar?” I heard her giggle. I licked on too embarrassed to raise my head and acknowledge what was happening. “You’re.
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