Her mouth worked professionally, sucking him deep and taking his full length down her throat. He groaned and held her head in place. He slowly started getting more forceful, pushing her head down further on his cock. She had gotten used to sucking him off, she knew how he liked it, her gag reflex had long gone. She took him deep into her mouth know he would not last too long if she kept going the way she was. She wanted his cum, she needed it. It is what made her day worthwhile, it is what kept her alive. He was like a drug to her, she needed a fix. She need him. Her mouth got ready for the inevitable, for her prize. She sucked him with one last suction feeling his body tense up. He grunted and held her head with both hands. He shot his load into her waiting, hungry mouth. She sucked hard, swallowing his gift. His thick creamy spunk oozed from the corners of her mouth as she swallowed all he had given her. She came up for air, licking the corners of her mouth, making sure not to. (Charley would ramble but eventually he would get to the point). As I was saying we spent some time in the Windmill, then in the late afternoon we went into Piccadilly Circus. Everyone else seemed to head to the same place, it was like a giant spontaneous street party. We were dancing in the street, passing bottles around. Girls were kissing complete strangers and I don’t mean just the showgirls and the tarts. There were lots of respectable girls who worked in the shops, offices and government ministries. It seemed like the whole population of London had crammed into the West End. Loads of people were dancing, the police were joining in, and of course human nature being human nature, couples were finding a little privacy and having knee tremblers in shop doorways. Anyway back to me. I had this bottle of Gordon’s Gin, don’t know why I hate the taste of the stuff, but in those days you took what you could get. I got chatting to this little A.T.S. lieutenant, a right little cracker I.
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