Take him in.

You part your lips further and the man slowly slides himself in, your tongue rolling along the underside of his shaft the whole time. You feel the old man take his hands to your side of your head. Surprisingly, the old man takes it slowly, as if testing your limits without putting too much pressure on you.

His member is an awkward length, being just long enough to set off a gag reflex if you are not paying attention, but not long enough to push past it. The man holds you by the hair and presses his cock into you as deep as he can get it. Your nose is pressed against his grey pubes and you feel his sack rest against your chin. Looking up, you can see the man looking down at you, his face partially obstructed by his beard and the angle you are viewing him at.

“Doesn’t take much to get you on your knees does it, son?” He says, not breaking eye contact before gently rocking your face. You do your best to keep his pace, leaning forward and back in steady movements and feeling his warm, hard cock sliding over your tongue and touching the back of your throat.

You almost can’t believe yourself. On your knees, servicing an old man for just the promise of keeping dry. You’ve been hit by hard times before, but this is a new level of desperation.

Your tongue is doing most of the work. With his rocking it is working well enough to just apply upwards pressure and keep your teeth out of the way. The older man is definitely enjoying your attention. You wonder how many times he has asked someone to get on their knees and how often they have told him to fuck off and continued with their day.

It isn’t long before more unsteady thrusts come from his hips. It has clearly been a while since the man was last sucked off and his stamina is not that great. The older man’s grip on your hair tightens. You’re half expecting him to start yanking your head around, given the rather non-romantic scenery you’re surrounded by. The man restrains himself from this, keeping his steady pace with his hands now tight in your hair. On his next draw back, you can taste the slight saltiness of his need.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you son?” He tilts his head back as he speaks, clearly enjoying himself. His hips thrust against your restrained head in a way that is even more **** that before. He is obviously getting close.

“You’re going to drink it up aren’t you son? Or would you rather I leave a nice glaze across your pretty face?” The old man moves backwards a bit, until only his lower head stays partially in your mouth, his hands still tightly gripping your hair. It seems like he’s giving you a chance to answer him. “How’s it going to be, son?”