With my hand in yours you lead me toward the men’s room. You push the door open and quickly glance around, the men’s room is empty. Pulling me by ...he hand into the men’s room you hurriedly head to the wall of stalls. The stalls are walled floor to ceiling but have a door that has an opening at the top and bottom. The stalls are much more private than the typical metal dividers. You hurry me into the last stall, close and lock the door behind us. All at once you’re pulling me to you and. It was purple and skinny, stiff as a board. It looked long, about eight or nine inches. He had chicken pox scars all over his cock too. It looked veiny and scaly as he stroked it. “Suck me, whore.” He commanded me and I submitted to him.I stroked and sucked his cock. It felt warm and rubbery in my mouth and hands. His taut skin was rough in patches all over his shaft from scars. I smelled the musk of sweat and body odor from the old man’s crotch like he hadn’t bathed for weeks. I. “White men.”Amanda shifted in her chair and Valerie knew she snagged her. To anyone else watching they’d have thought it was a normal body movement, but the principal knew better. She was a born Oreo and knew the signs when she saw them.“Something so scandalous about being with a white man. That flawless, ivory skin. Strong muscles. A stare that can delve into a girl’s soul. And, of course, their huge cocks.” Valerie gave off a girlish giggle saying the dirty word, trying to put Amanda at ease.. Were you talking to me?”“You’re the only one here except me, and I rarely talk to myself.”“You’re a yank.”“A tourist. Yes. This place looks amazing. Opulent, even.”“Trevor Muscat,” he said, offering his hand.“Just call me Jess,” I said, shaking.Trevor looked around the lobby. “You sort of expect a bell boy, a doorman, and the manager all around. The place isn’t quite open, but I like the feel of this place. It might become very popular with the tourists.”“Are you waiting for somebody?” I.