He greeted me "Hello Lass" in a striking Scottish accent, looking me over slowly and deliberately. If he wanted to see if it was possible to make me blush deeper, he succeeded.
"Hello sir. Uhm... you see... I uh, I was wondering if you would like your shoes shined"
He gave a hearty laugh. "With you under my table, people will think you're doing something else."
"I'm sure sir, to preserve my good reputation; you would casually glance around to check the coast is clear before I slipped under to shine your shoes."
He waited a few moments before murmuring "Now Lass"
I dived under in a flash, my heart hammering through my ribs, and went straight to work lowering his fly. For an old guy I was surprised at how hard he became in such a short period of time, I'd not even touched him with my lips yet. I took him in my hand and gently stroked him, trying to inspect his cock in the near-darkness because no way was I going to put my lips any where near it if it had scales or lumps or cheesy bits. I gave it an experimental sniff too. You can never be too careful.
But he seemed clean enough, just a little sweaty, so I started by giving him a long lick from his balls all the way to the tip before massaging his glands with my tongue.
I heard him moan when I took him into my throat and swallowed convulsively, which made me laugh and choke. He slipped his hand under the table cloth then, fiercely grabbing my hair and holding me down on his meat.
My throat started to burn after a little while and the lack of oxygen began to make me dizzy. I had to fight him for every little gulp of air before he forced my head back down, ramming his cock repeatedly into the soft tissue at the back of my throat.
I felt his balls draw in close, so I relaxed as much as I could and let him thrust up as deep as he could into my mouth. I was thrilled that I could handle so much pain, and still give so much pleasure. I felt the table tilt and creak under his weight as he used it as leverage as he thrust into my mouth for the final time. I heard something fall to the floor beside me. Tears sprang to my eyes as the Scotsman spurted his cum into down my abused throat, wrapping his legs around me tightly and unsympathetically holding my head in place with his hand.
I heard hurried footsteps approaching and braced myself.
"Sir! Sir! Are you alright? You're all flushed, are you in pain? Do you need me to call an ambulance?" The panicked waiter frantically asked.
"No it's alright lad," Croaked the Scotsman above me, "Just a bit of indigestion you see. You couldn't fetch a wee glass of milk for me could you?"
He untangled his hand from my hair and released the iron hold his legs had crushed me in. A moment later he whispered gruffly. "Now Lass"
I crawled out from under his table slightly dazed and into the nearest restroom to tidy myself up. It wasn't just my hair that needed repairs either! I had to actually remove my panties I'd soaked them that much! I slipped them up my sleeve to give to Master at the soonest possible moment.
I'm not an exhibitionist or anything like that Diary, but the thrill of being busted makes everything so much more intense, especially when I know Master is enjoying it as much as I am.
I have an idea about getting my panties off tonight, but I'll have to experiment a bit first.
Maybe if I rolled them up really small and tucked them away - for safe keeping - instead of actually wearing them? Or is that cheating?
I wonder if this is a test, something to do with Hannah?
I'll keep you posted diary, if not tonight then tomorrow. Hannah is no match for me!
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