I held my hand up over my eyes to shade the sunlight as the car drew up next to me and stopped."Hello, can you help me? I seem to have gotten lost, and don't know exactly where I am," the man spoke. At first glance, he had salt-and-pepper colored hair, probably about 50 or so years old, with a pull over shirt of blue and golf logos on the sleeves and pocket.I stepped closer to the car, and he appeared to be fumbling with something in his lap, I thought perhaps it was a map or something that he was going to show me to try to help him figure where he was. As I leaned down to peer into the car, in typical fashion, my top gaped open widely exposing my breasts and nipples. He smiled seeing them and his hand continued to move. Indeed, there was a map spread out there. He had a hold on one corner of the map, the side closest to me, and he lifted it for me to take a look.It was then that I realized that his pants were down around his knees and the movement of his hand was him jacking himself. Filling me with her cream. One swallow is not enough and she fills me until I’m left sucking her knob; trying to get to that very last drop of milky heaven.That’s it. My imagination has done its job.I feel my dick spasm and I point it upwards so that my ball juice shoots against the underside of the table. Jet after jet shoots from the end of my cock and hopefully sticks to the wood. My breathing is ragged and I immediately stop myself from moving too much. I know that my sticky cream is gathered there waiting to drop and I have enough presence of mind to see that the barman is busy serving people and not looking in my direction. That is such a relief.I see a small smile break out on her face as she sips her drink. I wish it was her that was spurting into my mouth rather than me spurting against the underside of the table. I lose sight of her for a while as my mind congratulates me on a well-earned wank in my favourite pub in front of so many people, but that’s why I sit where I sit..
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