Trough-y Dad
I am a Pinball. If I work someplace, I'm more dedicated than adept; which blindsides me every time I get fired. I didn't go out the front door this morning, thinking, "Gee. I'd like a blow job from a straight (if closeted-)daddy-type today." So, when I fall into any sex, I'm more amazed, than horny-released. (I can jack-off that kind of stress, anyway. Tho' I did learn NOT to do it in the men's room at work, already.) So, It is Summertime, the beach is flooded with tourists, I have a crappy job at a family-friendly, if mid-tier restaurant. (Not top notch, but, not a total dive either.) So, when the black guy with a Tennessee T-Shirt stretched across his military chest came in, I knew he was a tourist. Our building was built in the 1950s, and aside from a bit of redecorating, was still a terazzo-floored, white concrete, time capsule. So, like I said, I was standing at one of the trough urinals, dork and balls just hanging out, (since I worked in the...