«The Gloryhole» by Tia Lascivo

Mrs. Makepeace has a new
female friend. They visit a sex-store gloryhole, and a whole new world of sin opens up featuring hotel sex and BBC.


 


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Excerpt ~~~~~


 


Melanie led the way. She
stopped outside the third door along on the left side. Cubicle three,
apparently, according to the number neatly stenciled in black paint on the wall
to one side of the door.


 


“Here we are,” Melanie said
as she pushed the door open. “Let’s go.”


 


I followed her in and was immediately confronted by the sight of the blonde lady on the DVD cover smiling
at a well-muscled black man. The image came from the TV fixed to the wall, the video piped in somehow. From the front desk, I supposed.


 


I stood and watched the
screen for a moment or two, then took stock of the room. It didn’t take long
because all I could see in the way of furniture were three plastic chairs fixed
to a metal stand. They were blue. Molded. The kind of seats you might find in a
bus station waiting area, only these were clean and in a good state of repair.
Again, like the rest of the place, it was clean and bright in there, a room
like a cell, barely four feet across by ten feet deep and seven high. Then I noticed the apertures in the walls. There were holes of varying sizes set at what looked to be apparently random heights set in the wall opposite the chairs. I didn’t count, but there looked to be eight or nine. I blinked,
puzzled at first. Then I felt a rush of excitement when I realized this was more than a jerk-off den. I was in a glory-hole! Those holes were for guys to
stick their cocks through.


 


When I first realized what
the place was for, I couldn’t make up my mind whether I was excited or appalled.


 


“Jesus,” I gasped, “this is
so bloody wrong.”


 


~~~~~
PG Excerpt ~~~~~


 


We went beyond the bead
curtain at the back of the shop and encountered a short corridor with doors set at intervals about six feet apart. I counted eight in total, four to a side. It was as bright and clean as the front of house in that corridor. The walls were
painted white, the floor covered with linoleum which shone like it was
polished.


 


Melanie had left me standing
near the DVD rack after I’d croaked my assent. She went to the counter and
spoke to the girl. Passed some money across and glanced my way. Said something
else to the girl. I saw Melanie check her watch one more time. Then she looked
at the door before once again glancing at me. The girl also threw a look my way. Her lips moved, but I couldn’t make out what was said. After that,
although mildly curious but getting ever more horny, I forgot about Melanie’s
interest in the time and all the talk between her and the clerk and focused on how far I was willing to go with another woman.