After a moment, I closed my mouth and tilted my head to the side like a puppy. "Well, you gotta help. You don't expect me to touch that thing without rubber gloves, do you?" I teased. I opened my mouth wide once again and waited.He dropped is pants to the floor and thumbed a softie into my mouth. "Kinda mushy today." I teased him through a cock-filled mouth. He laughed and gave me a playful soft whap on the head.He tasted faintly of soap, but mostly of cock. Mmmm, I love that. It wasn't long before I could feel it swelling and growing, becoming thicker and longer than would easily fit entirely in my mouth. In the process, part of it escaped my lips. The head was pressed against the back of my throat. It was time to get serious.I inhaled deeply through my nose, relaxed my throat muscles, and pressed forward, hard. I felt the head press through the ring of muscle -or whatever it is- that guards the entrance to the throat. (He tells me it feels like a tiny tight vagina in the back of my. Walking over he asked sweetly if he could buy that for me. Thanking him we began the masquerade of small talk that would only end in one outcome. No questions about wives or husbands, no details that could bring on the guilt that sometimes tinged these encounters. Eventually as the bar became a hive of activity I suggested we moved on somewhere less busy. He looked a little embarrassed, had I misjudged him, was he about to make his excuses and leave? After a moments hesitation I placed my hand lightly on his on the bar top, and smiled.Barely able to look me in the eye he said, “I have a room” We began to head towards the lifts, I felt his hand rest lightly on the curve of my spine as he ushered me past the groups of people blocking our way. I heard one of the women make a spiteful comment, they often did when they saw women like me but I hardly noticed it anymore. We were not so unalike when it really came down to it.In the lift we stood a little awkwardly, no small talk now. Wanting.
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