. It was then that I saw what I was looking for; a bunch of really cheap looking tarts standing in the corner trying to use the ciggy machine. I eyed them up sussing out my chances and who would be fair game. One was clearly up for it, she wore a cheap but daring blue strappy top which spilled over an ample cleavage. She was a pretty brunette, a little overweight but exposing her midriff and the gothic tattoo on the small of her back. She was clearly the youngest and seemed to giggle a lot, the most desperate of the girls too, what with a heavy blue eyeshadow and an insane drunken grin. Nevertheless she had a sexy enough face and seemed approachable, seeming less confident than the tall, short skirted, suntanned blonde who must have been at least 32, the black London girl who was shouting abuse into her mobile phone and a dumpy small pale tart whose nipples were poking through an overtight polo top. The combined presence of these cheap slags gave me a semi hardon and I moved in. ”He reached over, and gently took my cock in his hand. “Is this a good day?” he asked.“It’s getting better,” I said and took his cock in my hand.We stroked each other for a minute or two. He said, “Do you suck cock?”“I never have,” I said, “but I’m willing to try it.” I leaned over and took the end of his cock between my lips. He let go of my cock and put his hand on the back of my head. I could feel its weight as I took more of him into my mouth. About halfway, I stopped, and raised my head up again, letting his cock slip mostly out of my mouth. Then down again, a bit further this time, and then back up.“That’s nice,” he said. “Keep doing that.”After another minute or two, he said, “Stop for a second.”I lifted up my head and sat back. He stood, pulled his pants and boxer briefs below his knees, then sat back down. “Do you swallow?”“I don’t know. I never have.”He reached back down and took a handkerchief out of his pants pocket. “In case we have a mess to clean up,” he said.He leaned.
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