She was starting to feel nervous. Not because of what he was shouting - abusive men were more common than alley cats in this part of town - but because this just wasn't the mild-mannered, quietly lecherous and affable old man she was used to. Something was affecting his mind as well as his body.<br/><br/>She felt his hand in her hair, a clear signal of his intent. Discretion was the better part of valour, she decided, as she so often did, and allowed him to shove her head down on his tumescent cock. It slid through her mouth, impaling her throat roughly. She tried to control her movements, but he seemed to be having none of it as he mercilessly held her head down while thrusting vigorously upwards into her mouth over and over again. Her eyes began to water from the rough treatment, but he showed no signs of letting up.