He watched from his semi-hidden spot as she went to the line and ordered a skinny vanilla latte. She hadn't noticed him and stood with her back to him...as she waited for the barista to make her drink. He noticed that she was fidgeting considerably, her hands seemed to twist together and then go to her chest or to tap on her thighs. She was leaning back on her heels and swaying from foot to food. Finally, the barista handed the drink over and she turned and faced him. She was very attractive, not. The supervisor, however, approached Maryam with solemnity.“You, I take it, are the mother of Mustafa?”“Yes, and now I’m here to pick him up. I’m in a rush.”“Well, it’s time to slow down.”“I see. Is there a problem?”“Damn straight there’s a problem. You said you’d pick him up two days ago, and you didn’t show.”“I was tied up. I meant to pick him up, but I ran into trouble.”“Like that cut across your lip?”“Yes, I suppose.”“What would have happened, let’s say, if we had to turn your child out into. I levered another shovel of concrete into the basin. The gray slurry moved up on her feet. I was doing it gently so I didn't bruise her with the heavy, gravel laden mix. She'd set her feet about shoulder width apart, and I eased the next load between them, careful not to bump her with the shovel.It was slow, but, shovel full by shovel full, the level rose, covering her dainty toes. Bit by bit it crept up - her insteps - next her ankles, then her shins.She was breathing hard, looking down as the. I then got even bolder and slowly unzipped my pants and put my hand inside, directly on my cock. I was lost in my thoughts, imagining the cute young waitress coming back to my table and lifting her kilt. I watched her moving from table to table, hoping that she would have to bend over to pick something up to give me a peek.Just then the bartender appeared out of nowhere it seemed, with my beer and here I was with a hand in my pants playing with myself. He could not help but notice what I was.