I could taste my cum on her tongue, but what the Hell. It was MY cum. It wasn’t like kissing Barb and wondering if she was feeding me a hint of Brad...with the kiss. The gesture surprised her and I could see her eyes widen for a second before she relaxed into the kiss, moaning into my mouth.“You ARE a gem,” she told me. “Martin would never kiss me after a blowjob unless I brushed my teeth, rinsed with mouthwash and gargled first.”I shrugged. “It’s my cum. No big deal. If it was someone else’s,. " I hoped that four hours of pulling,brewing and pouring might take my mind off what was happening to me. Nota chance. Every interaction with a customer was different, and, in mostcases, better. The women were friendlier, for the most part, and the menwere a LOT friendlier, if you get my drift."The highlight of the morning was when Mr. Peterson rolled up in his BMWconvertible. You know him. A sweet old guy, seventy-something, and hiswife died of cancer, what, about a year ago? After I gave him. More

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