The Bookstore Ch. 2

It had been way too long. The need was built up inside me…the burning need I feel for cum to cover my body. Hot cum that shoots over my hands and my face, spraying from a strange man's cock. It doesn't matter what man cums on me or how he does it, as long as it happens.

Once again I feel myself drawn to the bookstore. I haven't gone for awhile because it was raided yet again and was closed for over a week. I searched for as similar place to go, but I'm drawn to this particular store. It's because I took my first load of a stranger's cum there, in the back, inside one of the small, dank rooms set aside expressly for the purpose of nameless, faceless sex.

Entering the store, my nostrils are assaulted by a familiar odor… the ripe combination of sweat, desperation and illicit sex fill the hazy air. I close my eyes and breathe in deeply. My whole body feels like it's on fire. My nipples stand at attention, my pussy becomes wet as the smell rushes to fill my lungs. I want to be here…I need to be here. I feel whorish and dirty, thinking everyone in the store knows exactly why I'm there. I don't care. My actions thrill me and scare me at the same time. The need to be a nasty whore for a stranger—to have him use me however he wants to until he covers me with cum—has become too great. I had to come here again.

I walk forward, swinging my hips back and forth in a motion that makes my breasts bounce and sway under my tight T-shirt. I feel pair after pair of eyes burning into me…they are all thinking what a whore I am. And they're right. I feel like the dirtiest, filthiest whore just then…ready to take man after man after man if that's what it takes to get the cum I need.

Excited is not a strong enough word to describe how I feel as I step up to the counter to get my key. The tattooed and pierced boy behind the desk barely raises his head. "Pretty busy tonight. Thirty minute limit," he barks as he throws me a key. I grab it with my shaking hand and walk down the hall towards the back of the store. It's a short walk, but it seems like one of the longest walks I've ever taken. The same feeling grips me each time—I can't believe it's me here, doing what I'm doing. I feel as if I'm watching myself from outside my own body. A voice rings in the back of my head. "Dirty, dirty, dirty" it whispers. I feel tingly…every nerve is aroused…I'm going to whore soon.

I slip the key into the lock. Even the metallic grinding sound arouses me…another sense memory. All these now-familiar sounds remind me that I'm about to take cum. I close and lock the door. Damn, holes on only one side of the wall.

Suddenly, my clothing feels too tight. It has to come off. I need to be completely nude inside this room. I need to feel everything I can next to my burning skin—the clamminess of the vinyl chair, the cheap, dirty carpeting on my feet. But most of all, I need to press my body against the wall and feel the stickiness around the holes. Stickiness from the cum of who knows how many men who've come for the same hidden, dirty pleasures I seek. My clothes quickly land in a pile on the floor.

I hear muffled sounds from the next room. My pussy immediately contracts. My fingers instinctively find my hard clit…I have to touch. Can't cum yet…I want to save that for a bit later. Just a few strokes to hold me, to suppress my excitement.

I kneel in front of the holes to peek through. I feel floaty, as if I can't get quite enough air. I see an older man sitting on the chair, cock exposed through the fly of his pants. His head is thrown back, and I hear his low moans. The movie drones on, unwatched. I press closer to the wall, wishing I could somehow crawl through the holes to kneel on the floor in front of him and service his cock. I want his cum…I want to take it for him. I can't get enough friction…I realize I'm rubbing my breasts against the wall, hearing the sticky sounds as they rub back and forth through the trails of old cum.

I see the man's hand moving faster. I whisper "hello" through the largest hole, hoping he'll see me and come over to the hole before he cums. He ignores me. "Hello," I say, a little more loudly. Again, no response. My frustration level skyrockets as I see his hips move, and hear his moans become louder. I want his cum, and I will not let him waste it on the dirty carpeting. He completely ignores me as he blurts out "oh yes, oh yes," and cums. I feel like crying as I see the warm, white cum run over the outside of his hand and over his wrist. He sighs, stands up, and zips his pants after stuffing his soft cock inside. I watch, helplessly, as he wipes the beautiful wasted cum across the thigh of his jeans. He then walks out of the room, completely ignoring me and my whimpering.

I rub my open pussy against my flattened hand, frustrated that he ignored me. I want to cum, but I can't. It won't happen. I go over to sit on the chair, trying to calm my ragged breathing and racing heartbeat. I flash on what's happening…what am I doing in a dirty bookstore, naked, watching a stranger masturbate? I feel disgusting and sad. But I can't stop…I have to cum. That feeling is stronger than anything else at that point. I rub two fingers between my spread pussy lips, but I can't cum. Tears begin to form in the corners of my eyes. I have to cum. I can't stand it.

I hear a door slam next to me, and low voices speaking back and forth. I scramble quickly over to the hole to watch. I see an attractive young man with two garishly dressed blonde women, obviously prostitutes.

He sits down in the chair, and tells them to start "the usual." The two girls begin to slowly remove each other's clothing. They kiss and caress each other as they undress, and he takes out his cock as he watches them. He is already hard. "Quicker," he barks at them. "We only have half an hour." Hearing the man say that reminded me that I didn't have very much time left there myself. I had to get cum soon.

I hear them man's voice, realizing he is talking to me. "You keep watching honey," he said. "When they finish with each other, they can play with you for a minute." I gulped and nodded. I couldn't seem to speak.

The girls were nude and kissing each other by now. The man directed them, wanting to see them touch each other's pussies while they kissed. I watched, too, with a distant feeling. It was like I was watching a video, except the action was right in front of me. My hand found my nipple, and began to pinch and twist. The twinge of pain snapped me back to reality. I was feeling anxious—I was afraid I wouldn't get any cum that evening. Yet I was excited watching the two girls. They seemed to be enjoying themselves as they touched each other.

Sounds assaulted my ears. The slapping of the man's cock against his hand, the sticky sounds of fingers being pushed in and out of pussies—it made the need to cum and to feel cum boil inside me. I felt out of control—my sexual needs were taking over, and I didn't know what to do. I rubbed my clit faster as I watched the scene in the next room.

"Now lick each other," he directed. "I want you both to cum." The girls lied down next to each other on the dirty rug and began to lick each other's pussies. The wet, lapping sounds roared in my ears. They each began to moan, and I watched their stomachs contracting, and their hips move as they both neared climax. "Yes," he yelled, "yes, that's it!" He pumped hard on his cock, slapping it up and down in a quick rhythm. I was almost too much—another man was going to cum right in front of me, and I wouldn't get to feel any of it. I wanted to shout out to him to let me feel it, for him to cum on me through the hole in the wall, but I had no voice. I couldn't speak.

Just then, he exploded. "AAAAAAAAAAgghhhh," I heard him moan. I watched, helplessly again, as wasted cum shot up into the air and onto the floor. I plunged my fingers inside my pussy as hard as I could as I watched the man cum as if I could somehow pretend it was his cock shooting cum deep inside me. My thumb pressed against my clit as I longed to cum.

The girls were cumming too. They were a mass of tongues and tits and legs and pussies, rolling around on the floor. They finished and separated from each other, sitting up on the floor next to each other when they were done.

The man must have heard my frustrated breathing as I rubbed against the wall, trying to cum. "Stand in front of the big hole," he shouted at me. "Let the girls take care of you. I want to watch."

I was afraid. I wasn't sure I wanted to do that—to let these women touch me. "Come on," he yelled. "We're all running out of time. Just let them, honey. You'll like it!"

I stood up in front of the large hole. I saw hands dart from each small hole and circle around and grab my ass, pulling me forward into the wall. A tongue licked my pussy lips. It scared me, and I tried to back away. This was not what I wanted at all. I felt confused and disoriented, yet I didn't want them to stop. The tongue felt soft and fluttery against my pussy lips, and I felt myself parting my legs so the tongue could dart inside. My arms were spread out against the wall, over my head, to help steady my body as it pressed against the holes.

I heard the man telling the first girl to make me cum. He was telling the other girl to lick ass, to push her tongue up the first girls' asshole. I couldn't see any of it—I could just hear him yelling orders. My eyes were closed as I felt her tongue push across my clit—I wanted to scream, it felt so good. I had never felt anything like it before. I humped against the hole, trying to force her tongue deeper inside my soaking wet pussy.

My mind was reeling—it all felt so wonderful, but it wasn't what I wanted at all. I knew the man would cum again, and I wouldn't even get to see it, much less feel any of it. I didn't want her to stop…I needed to cum. I rode her tongue, feeling it push inside my pussy, then slip out and flick across my clit. I couldn't stop—I exploded hot pussy juice all over her tongue. I think I screamed—I'm not sure. The sensation ripped through me like lightning. It was the cum that I needed so badly all evening.

I felt the mouth and hands pull away from the holes in the wall. I was still plastered against my side of the wall—I couldn't move. I felt so cheap and dirty—I didn't want anything like this to happen. I was there for cum, a man's cum. Instead, I let a strange prostitute lick my pussy until I came. I was a disgusting whore for a man who didn't even pay me. By the time I unstuck myself from the wall, everyone was gone from the other room.

I jumped when I heard a knock on the door. I heard someone yell "time's up," and I had to quickly get dressed and get out. I stumbled out of the room in a daze.

I thought about getting the room for another half hour, but there was a 45 minute wait. I couldn't wait that long, so I left the bookstore feeling very unfulfilled.

As I drove home, I started to cry. Tears of frustration—with the fact that I got no cum from a man, and also with the fact that in my blinding need to cum I let a woman lick my pussy. I finally came, but not in the way I wanted to cum. I needed a man's cum dripping off my hands and face. I felt cheated that I didn't get that tonight.