Your wallet is in your hand almost without thought. You fumble two twenties and a ten out of the billfold and into her hand and she takes your a bit deeper into the alley to a secluded door near a rusting dumpster.
You unzip and pull out your already hard cock, figuring (correctly) that foreplay isn't really called for under the circumstances, and she pulls and opens a condom.
She bends down to put the rubber on and bumps your jacket. She pauses and puts her hand into the jacket pocket and pulls out the jar of cream.
"Good-- I'm fresh out of lube!" she mutters, opening the jar without looking at the label. She sticks a finger into the cream and smears some on your dick. You start to say something, then she pulls the condom over your hard member, and the sensation momentarily drives thought out of your head.
She stands quickly up, pulls down her jeans without bothering to unzip them, and guides your (young) manhood into her. Things blur as she vigorously moves against you, well practiced moves combining with your youthful, raging hormones to bring you to climax mere minutes later. You gasp, hips bucking, a powerful orgasm exploding through your body.
"Wow," you say vacantly, sliding out of her. You glance down at your dick, which is still erect, as if it is trying to decide to try again or relax. Your bare dick...
"Oh SHIT!" swears the hooker, looking down at her own genitalia. "I must have got the damn thing on wrong!"
Your dick starts to relax, and you stuff it back into your pants. Seeing the jar of Age Cream sitting on the ground, you scoop that back up, remember that she used it as lube, and glance in the door's dust covered window.
The reflection shows a kid, maybe 12, looking back at you... Uh oh.
You stuff the jar of cream into your jacket pocket, suddenly conscious that it is very baggy on you. So are your pants, shirt, and shoes.
The hooker is swearing a blue streak, having pulled the condom out of herself and tossed it on the ground. She seems to have pretty much forgotten you are there...
"Uh, I gotta be going," you mumble, not certain if it was loud enough for her to hear. Was your voice higher? "Bye."
It certainly sounded higher.
You return to your car.
Now what?