'Hello', he said calmly, making sure I had a good eyeful of his erect cock. I smiled, my smile telling him I was up for it, 'Nice', I said, Mother had...taught me well, and I stood at the edge of the bench looking down as he stroked, my bare thigh brushing his free hand, that rested on the metal arm.'You like my cock', he rasped, his demeanour more in line with rampant bull elephant in Musth season, his cock now swollen to intoxicating level for a girl in need of feeling herself being used for. Although Psychlone was still wistful about his old haunts in Exeter, there were definite advantages for a professional musician to be living so close to Central London. After he'd fought his way past the beggars gathered about the entrance to the underground station, it took only an hour or two by steam train on the Metropolitan Line to get to the heart of London where he could go to a West End night club and put on live sets for the rich and privileged. He was able to get two or sometimes. More

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