I'm running a security detail in Russia's second city. it's a large hotel project and I live in a small building on the building site, inside the fenced perimeter. The actual physical protection is done by the Russian militia, the local police department's own security branch.Now, the Russian police were by then corrupt, very corrupt, and they had been that since decades back. The communist Soviet Union had a black economy comparable with the official national economy. Try to imagine, a second, complete Russian economy, hidden under the desk, ridden with organized criminality. That was the true legacy of communism, the most fucked up ideology ever. The police were hopeless, especially in St Petersburg and we could actually have ordered the security directly from the mob, it wouldn't make a difference, but we had to follow the official protocol.The security on the site was done with half a dozen cops on shift, three at the time from the guard booth by the entrance. Most of them were. Mommy's eyes burnedwith desire as she watched me degrade myself, whilst my body experiencedwave after wave of hormonal rushes which soaked me in perspiration. Myknees were sore. I felt like an altar boy must feel after he has kneeledthrough two entire church services.After about two hours the owner came in and told us to clear off beforethe coppers came by. He took one look at me, noting my nylons, which weretorn at the knees, and my hair that was tangled by dried shots of cum andmy chin which was caked with white flakes. I averted my gaze as I beganto collect myself and gather my handbag but he obviously had other ideas."Not so fast, honey," he said in an east end accent to me. "I reckon I'llhave some of that before you go."Considering he was a foot taller than me and twice as wide, it was futileto resist. So I just went to my knees, unzipped his trousers, pulled hismeat out and went to work on him. I could feel the gazes of the two womenin the room on the back of my head as the man.
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