She took her place back on the conveyor belt next to Tracey and said nothing. It seemed that the distraction of packing pieces of chicken was somehow a relief to her. It was much later, after one more tea break, that the working day ended. The sun was well beneath the horizon, and the two girls, like all the other women, were yawning and exhausted. The conveyor belts stopped, the last pieces of chicken were wrapped in polythene and labelled, and the workforce queued up to leave. Even leaving was an ordeal. The queue went on forever, but as they left they were all presented with a clear plastic bag holding a single packed piece of chicken, which clearly represented their wages for a day’s work. Tracey’s package was larger than those of most of the others. She had three pieces of chicken in a rather larger bag and a bar of milk chocolate. Buttercup had even more. Some five pieces of chicken, several bars of chocolate and four bottles of beer. The man who singled her out and presented. Before I know it we are entering Michelle's apartment.As we enter, she suggests that Stacey and I use her bed. She says "I have a ragging headache and I am likely to be up for a couple of hours tending to it." She will sleep on the couch in the living room. I don't know what came over Stacey and me as we enter her bedroom. We are both consumed with desire. All I can think about is sex with Stacey. Without any explanations we are ripping at each other's clothes before we even reach Michelle's bed. Stacey is moaning as she smoothers me with her kisses. I am naked except for my corset, as neither of us has the dexterity in our sexual frenzy to remove it. Stacey is naked and already having an orgasm after less than a minute of kissing and fondling. We are like two animals possessed. I blurt out, "that she is my most precious friend and all I want is to make her feel loved and satisfy her desires." She responds that "She has waited two years for this night and hopes she can.
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