He continued to buck and squirt as I struggled to keep him from escaping my lips. I swallowed as much and as fast as I could, but there was simply too...much for me to take. His cum gushed from the corners of my mouth and dripped from my chin. His hand made a fist on the back of my head, pulling my hair and causing me to open my mouth and loosen the suction I had on him. The last of his juices spilled from me and onto his lap. He was short of breath and mumbling as I stood and walked to the. I was at my desk signing checks, paying for the booze I sold in my bar, and paying for a bunch of other things that make it more profitable to work for someone else. I called my place 'Casablanca' and sometimes even thought of myself as 'Rick', the bar owner played by Humphrey Bogart in the classic movie of the same name.Every time I signed checks I wondered if I had done the right thing five years ago. I had been thirty-five when I decided to chuck my corporate job in the big city and move to. He had to go…somewhere. Quickly he stumbled into the bathroom, lightly closing the door behind him. Will refused to turn on the light, he couldn’t bear to look at himself in the mirror. He was nothing in his own eyes. He stepped into the hot water, pulling with all the force he could the curtain shut. He leaned against the wall, his head pounding into the tile. He had an intense urge to masturbate, having not orgasmed at all, but as soon as his fingers closed around his softening shaft, he. He was the only one awake. I scanned him, but could get little from him except a steely resolve to protect them."Oh well. Maybe Mable will let me have some coffee," I thought.After taking care of my morning business, I slipped on my running shoes, and headed for the Dining Hall through the rain.There was a large stack of towels by the door, and I found myself wondering why I had even bothered with a shower as I dried myself again.Mable was in a good mood, as I hugged her warmly, thanking her.