"Do you like milk?" I nodded and he turned to the waiter. "Scotch and soda and a White Russian." While we waited for the drinks to come, he talked to me in a way that required very little response from me. He liked playing sports: ice hockey, baseball, and rugby in overlapping seasons. He had a way of telling stories about his teammates that made me able to see them in my mind. He had me laughing before the drinks came, even if some of his language was coarse. When my drink came, I sipped at it, expecting the alcohol to burn and taste like poison. It didn't. It was more like a melted milkshake. I took a long swallow and Mr. Preston actually did grin at me this time. It was a big grin--big like he was. "Go slow," he said. "It's hard to taste the alcohol, but it's there." I sipped while he talked. I was almost halfway through the drink when I really could tell that something was different. He was right: there was a happy, floaty feeling. When I thought about Jimmy, the pain was. He forcefully pulled my head forward, his hardening cock slid into my anxious mouth. It went deeper and deeper until it filled my throat. I wrapped my lips around his dick as he pulled my head back and forth slowly. His cock was rock hard as he forced my mouth back and forth on his shaft with the subtle movement of his arm. He didn't make a sound. I glanced up to see he wasn't looking down anymore.And then I remembered where I was at. This man was using my mouth in the middle of a mall! People where walking by never knowing that my lips where wrapped around his dick. The thought made my cock swell. He was masterful. Shoving it in at just the right speed that I didn't choke. A completely quiet facefucking.Then I heard something, and he stopped pulling my head back and forth. "Is there anything I can help you find?" I heard him ask, his dick still in my mouth."No, just looking," I heard a young female voice answer.A customer was in the store! He couldn't risk moving his arm while.
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