A female assistant stood beside me, a small trolley at her side, loaded with goods. "Sorry, miles away. Is this mine?" "Yes, it is. I just need you t...o check and sign this..." with these words she bent to take a clipboard off the trolley, her head level with my crotch. "Oh, my goodness!" I looked down. I had been so engrossed in those blue knickers I'd started to harden, and the front of my trousers were tenting! The assistant grabbed the clipboard and stood, face flushed. I tried not to draw. I reached a climax quite quickly and my seed squirted out so hard the first couple of jets splattered against the mirror and the rest landed in the sink. I was surprised at the obvious effort of my stomach muscles in ejaculating as I could clearly see them flexing in the mirror and I was left trembling and weak-kneed and only managing to stand by my grip of the hand-basin.After a few minutes rest I managed to have a shower, pissing thankfully in the cubicle at the same time, and, after drying. His terror had seemed to diminish, but the way he constantly stared at her sometimes made her feel really self conscious. He never tried anything, no more falling to his knees before her, or stripping naked to offer his body to her. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. He sat on the floor, long legs tucked against his chest, arms wrapped around his knees. Even in the dark, she could see the vivid green of his eyes, so at odds with the deep red of his hair. In the darkness of. His clear skin looked permanently tanned, but not in the weather beaten way of a sailor, just of someone who spent a lot of time n the open air. He looked... healthy... yes, that was the perfect word. Somehow, she stammered out the question, what would he like and then felt foolish at her girlish incompetence. His voice dripped into her ear, a deep resonance that seemed to tickle her cochlea and ping at strings inside her she didn’t know existed. Dazed, she managed to take.