" He leaned conspiratorially close, winking, making me blush even harder. "If I asked you to, would you suck my cock?"My heart trip hammered. "Here?" ... squeaked.He laughed, trying not to draw attention to himself. "That would be interesting. Would you?"It took me a moment to tell him no. I wondered had he said, Michael, I want you to crawl under the table and suck my cock, right here in front of all these people, half of them our classmates, whether I would do it. Please, I thought. Don't let. " "Well, she can hire a gigolo, a male prostitute. Women do, I've heard." "Oh, come on, how impersonal is that. That's a dick, not loving." "Yeah, I suppose you're right. Has she tried an online service to meet people?" "She says she has and that it's a bit like a meat market. Most of the guys just wanted a quick fuck and a home-cooked meal. Not necessarily in that order, according to Mom." "Well, maybe I can think of some guy at work." "You know, Doug, there is a guy where you work that might. Okay, time to get serious. I stood up and gently pushed his broad shoulders back. He got the hint and laid back on the table. Now I had to figure out how to communicate to him, with no words, to slide further up the table. I decided to use his hard cock as a handle and grabbed on and pulled such as he had to squirm up further on the table else it would be painful. I noticed a smile on his face as if he was proud that he interpreted my non-verbal communication correctly. Once he was properly. “Eliot and Sara could come in anytime,” I pointed out. “They won't,” he said as his fingers touched me between the legs. “Not now,” I insisted. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my panties. “I'm sweaty, and I smell bad, and I haven't shaved,” I said. “This isn't the perfect time.” “We can't wait forever until the perfect time,” he said. I couldn't think of an answer to that. We'd flirted since the day we'd met, had a couple of make out sessions that ended just short of third base. It.