The cubicle was even seedier than she’d imagined. It smelt of stale sweat, cheap perfume — and sex. When a cock suddenly poked through a hole in the flimsy partition, she gasped. Although expected, it was still startling. Recovering, she squatted — No kneeling on this carpet — and stroked the shaft. Receding foreskin revealed an impressive dome, and a grunt greeted her opening suck.
He’d waited on the street for her. “Okay?”
“What d’you think? I feel dirty. Don’t ever use me to pay off your fucking gambling debts again.”
“Actually, sweetheart, you just won the bet for me.”
