I'd usually squat there, masturbating and swallowing cum—most familiar, some strange—for about an hour, sometimes two, until I had about four girl-gasms under my belt, at least two of them big ones. Then I'd zip up and take off, a spring in my step, fresh pussy drool in my panties, cum in my tummy, and a big smile on my face.
I particularly remember my next-to-last visit. There were a couple of regulars hanging around outside when I walked up, just waiting to see if I'd drop by, I think. (I was coming there pretty often by then.) We never spoke, never made eye contact. But they sure checked out my ass and my bouncy little titties!
They mainly wanted to see if I was a real girl, I think. Why it mattered, I'm not really sure. You put your dick through a hole in the wall and it gets sucked. Who cares who's doing the sucking? I guess maybe it's the principle of the thing. Or something. Anyway…
I walked down to booth twelve, my heart already skipping a beat, locked the door, stretched, and pulled my pants and panties down, feeling a little moist and tingly Down Under. I took my time—olive oil, or coconut oil? Coconut stayed slippery longer, but olive oil had a warm sensual texture. Hmm. I spread my clit and pussy lips with olive oil, then spread out a little bandana on the floor to soak up the drippage, and slid the first glory hole open for business.
It was magic that day. First thing, the sweetest pink dick popped out of the wall, already pulsing with excitement. I took the round shaft in my hand and squeezed it. It swelled in pleasure. I popped the reddening head into my mouth and sucked, running my tongue over the slit. I tasted that slippery foreshadowing precum right away, the perfect accompaniment to olive oil.
I dipped my pussy finger into my mouth, mixing the olive oil and precum, tasting them together, running my finger around the cock head in my mouth, then returned my finger to my swollen clit, where I felt their mingled fluid textures sliding over me together. The dick in my mouth swelled impossibly, then gently splashed cum right onto my tongue, just like that.
I shuddered with a small girl-gasm of my own at the sudden surprising taste. I didn't let the cock slip from my mouth and out of my hand right away. I gripped it tight, sucking gently and licking all around the head, affectionately. It rippled and shot a little more coming inside my mouth, as if to say thanks.
I opened the other glory hole, already a little breathless, only to meet my old friend, the long olive cock with the left hand curve—the first glory hole cock I had cum on. We had a happy reunion. I had been practicing for weeks now, and I was able to take the whole length of that long, handsome dong into my mouth, suppress my gag reflex, and open my throat. I felt my throat muscles contract around the rim of his helmet as I swallowed.
I rocked back and forth, that long cock down my throat, my fingers flashing over my oiled clit, for several minutes, taking it out only to breathe. We came together massively. I almost fell over, and the man attached to the cock must have done the same—his weenie popped back through the hole with an audible plop, and I heard low, deep laughter from the other side of the wall.
I sucked seven cocks that day, and had four breathtaking orgasms.
On this particular visit, I went on sucking cock and eating cum for a while—even after zipping up Miss Happy Pants—just for the pleasure of it: feeling them tremble, grow suddenly bigger in my mouth, then explode, pulsing with excitement, heat, and cum.
Eventually I closed up shop, waited for the scratching on the walls to stop, and split. I was in a good mood, loose and happy, content, feeling like I'd eaten a little too much yogurt, but ready for a cup of dark roast coffee and something for dessert. I had a pastry at a little cafe in the chi-chi district that was gradually eating away at the seedy part of town. I felt like I owned this part of the city: Queen Cindy the First of the Olde Raunch District. I ruled.
My final visit to the bookstore a few days later was sad and different. There were a bunch of cop cars out front and lots of flashing lights. I didn't go in. I walked past and made myself scarce for a while, and when I came back, the sign just said CLOSED.
It never reopened. After a while I stopped going by. I poked into the few other, surviving smut stores, the last two nearby and a couple by the edge of town, but none of them had anything like my Glory Hole. It was the last of its kind, I guess.
Like summer break, my glory days were over. It was time to leave my 'rent's house and start a new chapter in my life, anyway. I had confidence now that I would find other cocks to suck, somewhere. They were out there, just waiting for Cindy's Special Mouth. I couldn't wait to taste them.
And I was still a virgin! Time to fix that, soon, I thought.