Laura - Falling Angel Pt. 04

It was a spur of the moment thing in the end, as momentous experiences often are. Laura hadn't slept well, and had a bitchy argument with her boss over a trivial admin matter. She told her colleagues she was going for lunch - a full half hour early - grabbed her jacket and bag, and headed out the door.

Fuck you, she thought, lighting a cigarette as she walked through the glass doors and across the carpark, to the path into town. She calmed down quickly as the nicotine soothed her nerves; it was a sunny day and it was nice to be out. She found herself walking through the ex industrial quarter, and spotted the bookshop. "Fuck it," she said to herself. She crossed the road and entered.

She walked down the stairs into the basement premises and was initially disappointed to find it empty, til she remembered the curtain, right where Kate said it was. She moved it aside and went through, into some kind of wonderland. The walls were festooned with shelves displaying VHS cases and vintage magazines from the '70s and '80s. Four normal looking men leafed through well stocked boxes of magazines with brightly coloured divider cards, labelled with categories like 'tranny' and 'fetish', or publication titles - Mayfair, Penthouse, Men Only, and some she didn't recognise, with foreign titles like Risque, Salope, Ouvert.

She loved the covers of the vintage mags - the women looked so wanton, their mouths half open and shiny blue eyeshadow enhancing their challenging looks. She realised with a pang that some of the mags on display actually featured women with cocks in their mouths and spunk on their faces on the front cover! Suddenly very self-conscious, she felt her heart pounding and heard her own breath. She was dry so she popped a stick of gum in her mouth. She was so turned on to be a single woman in there, surrounded by hard sexual images of objectified women. She knew the men were looking at her discreetly, looking at her lips and body in the context of what was in the magazines and videos on display, comparing her, imagining her, as they chose the magazines with the best images to give them the most pleasure while masturbating. She casually picked up a '70s magazine from a shelf, and it fell open at the centrespread - a curly-haired blonde in stockings, suspenders and gold jewellery reclined on a couch, arm outstretched, holding a cocktail glass beneath the head of a smartly-dressed guy's cock, catching a stream of spunk. Her expression as she stared at the camera was bored and supercilious. Contrived but completely erotic, she thought.

One man left in a hurry, possibly shy to be doing what he was with an attractive woman present; that left Laura and the three remaining men, who appeared to know each other, plus the balding guy behind the counter. Fuck it, she thought, chewing her gum. Her heels were deafening on the tiled floor as she walked past the counter. She heard herself saying to the shopkeeper, in a breathy but clear voice, loud enough to be heard by the customers too, "do you mind if I use the girl's room, please?" Get a load of this, she thought, as she took out her red lipstick and a small vanity mirror and applied a thick coat. He indicated a doorway in the corner. "You want the one on the left, love. On the left."

She smiled and walked through, found and went into the left cubicle, locking the door behind her. It was pretty disgusting; it smelt of piss, there was an unemptied ashtray on the cistern and an old chair with a pile of magazines on it. The walls were daubed with graffiti, drawings of cocks, telephone numbers. And there, next to the toilet was the gloryhole. It was bigger than she'd imagined, roughly the size of a saucer, and she could see most of the contents of the cubicle, and that it was similarly salubrious. "Perfect," she whispered.

She took of her jacket and put it on the back of the chair and her bag on the pile of magazines. She put the lid of the toilet down without looking inside, and sat down. There was a bin, again unemptied, with used condoms visible inside. Kate had told her there might be a wait of a few minutes; this was in case a lady came in who just happened to need an innocent bathroom visit. She reached into her bag for a cigarette.

As she smoked and leafed through a copy of Fiesta, she heard the door to the other cubicle open at last. She heard the guy breathing, and heard him take off his jacket, hanging it on a hook on the partition wall. His belt came next followed by his zip; she glanced through the hole and saw him removing his trousers and underwear before sitting on the lid. He clearly hadn't come to use the toilet. He picked up a magazine and she saw him coax himself erect.

If I can see him he can see me, she surmised. She slowly unbuttoned her navy blue silk blouse to the navel, exposing her cleavage and her white lace bra. She heard a low 'mm'; he was wanking in earnest now, and his cock was big. Much bigger than Peter's, she thought, applying the only benchmark in her experience.

She was nervous and excited and desperate to suck it. She shuddered in anticipation. How long would she have to wait? She blew smoke through the hole, smiling as it had the intended effect. The guy stood up and inserted his length through the hole and straight into Laura's waiting mouth.

Her eyes widened and she realised she only had the head and a couple of inches in her mouth; it was heavy and didn't taste at all bad. She started to suck. The advice from the message group came back to her - keep your teeth out of the way! Grip his shaft really tightly! Be firm and confident with his balls!

She wanked him with her fingertips; it felt more natural initially and as she struggled to accommodate more length, she gagged. Oh fuck, she thought. This is amazing. She squeezed his shaft hard with her whole hand, and felt his balls, which were now firmly in her personal space. She felt their weight, gently fondled and stretched them, and he jumped slightly. "Sorry..." she said, involuntarily.

"That's OK love," replied a rough, manly voice. "You're good. Keep doing that."

She persevered with his balls, still fondling and stretching, as she concentrated on the head, enjoying the sight of smears of her lipstick on him. She wanked him hard and rhythmically sucked as much of his length into her mouth as she could. She wanted it to last forever, not noticing his breathing changing. Presently she was distracted by him tapping on the wall - her eyes opened and she disengaged her mouth, and instantly understood the significance of the tap, as the first torrent of spunk hit her fully in the face with an audible splash.

She got her mouth straight back onto it just in time for the remaining surges, swallowing and swallowing as they filled her mouth. The gush subsided but she didn't want to let him go. She held his balls quite firmly and licked and sucked every trace of cum from the circumcised tool, before letting its anonymous owner withdraw through the hole. "Fuck, thanks love..."

She heard him dress rapidly and the door open and close, not realising this had marked a swap of customers and not merely a vacating of the men's cubicle. She barely had time for a hard, satisfying drag on her cigarette, and no time to wipe her face let alone process what had happened, before a second cock was pushed through!

She gasped. Oh god oh god oh god. She put her hands on him, as she had done minutes before. He was slightly smaller than the first and uncircumcised. She slowly pulled back his foreskin to expose the head; he wasn't as clean, and smelt quite strongly as if he had masturbated that morning. Her whole body tingled and she felt a gush of her juices soak her knickers. She wanted this cock as far down her throat as possible as quickly as she could, and she sucked him hard and deep, gagging lightly, withdrawing, and repeating. It was mesmerising; she relentlessly sucked and gagged on him, taking more of the length each time.

Her hand was in her knickers, now. A real fucking slag would be wearing a skirt, she observed. Her cunt was almost unrecognisably swollen from lust and the need to be inseminated, and so tender that even the most half-hearted attention would have induced orgasm. She fellated and gagged til she heard the tap, ready this time to withdraw just far enough for him to ejaculate a smaller quantity of spunk onto her tongue. She sucked and wanked til she was sure she'd swallowed everything. "You've been wanking, you naughty boy," she heard herself say. The bitchy tone was the same as she had used to great effect on Dan.

"Sorry love," replied guy #2, adding that he wished he'd waited, now.

Holy fuck. She finally wiped her face with her fingers, sucking them clean. She reached into her bag for another cigarette; she couldn't find her lighter so lit it with the stub of the first, something else she couldn't have imagined doing a short while earlier. She dragged deeply on her silk cut, holding the smoke in her lungs for longer than she'd ever done, releasing slowly and feeling a creamy wash of pleasure. As she calmed down and her breathing returned to something like normal, she heard the men's door open and close again.

She leaned forward and looked through as the guy pulled down his joggers. He looked young and athletic, similar to Dan. He stood sideways by the hole, stroking himself, seemingly emphasising the length for Laura who purred in appreciation. He was uncircumcised, similar in size to the second guy, and when he offered himself through the hole, she realised he was clean and fragrant.

She seemed to automatically change her attitude for the younger man. She fondled and stroked his balls and cock with her right hand, taking occasional drags of her cigarette with the other. "That's a nice big cock," she breathed. "Do you like girls with dirty mouths? I bet you like girls who suck lots of cocks." This is my third one ever, at the age of 37, she thought.

"Oh yeah..." came the quiet reply.

"You like dirty girls sucking you off in filthy toilets?"

"Yeah."

She mouthed him, wishing she'd had time to redo her lips. She sucked the head, licked and sucked on the shaft as she pleasured him. His breathing started to stabilise; already she had the experience to know he was close to cumming. She shifted her position, raising slightly to a semi-standing position with one knee on the toilet. "I think I'm going to wank you off onto my titties. Would you like to spunk on my titties?" She took his glistening, precum-soaked head into her cleavage, then pulled down her bra, allowing her boobs to spring free. The small rings through her nipples looked fantastic and she understood why so many porn girls had pierced nipples when she heard the guy quietly exclaim 'fucking wow'. She held them together as he fucked them; a few luxurious thrusts and he was tapping the wall. Trapped between her breasts his cock sprayed everywhere as he ejaculated, soaking her blouse, bra, chest and throat. She giggled loudly, saying with a throaty hiss "you dirty bastard... you've made a right mess of me!"

Her head was spinning. She didn't want to leave but she was conscious of the time. She briefly wiped off the worst of the spunk from her throat with paper towels, buttoned her blouse and grabbed her jacket and bag. She took two hungry drags on the cigarette before stubbing it out, and exited the cubicle, still exhaling smoke as she entered back into the shop. There was a buzz; one or two guys eyed her as they spoke to the shop manager / owner; she had no idea if either of them had just ejaculated into her mouth. She waved briefly as she headed for the door, taking out her sunglasses. "Sorry, I really have to get back to work. When's a good day?"

The shop guy responded to the wave. "Friday..."

She felt their eyes on her as she mounted the stairs to the pavement.

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She couldn't remember much about the walk back to work, but was shocked back to the present on visiting the bathroom and seeing the alarming spunk stains on her blouse. She made it to her office where a pink cardigan hung on the back of her chair, and resolved to keep a spare top in the room in future. She sent a few emails but couldn't really achieve much that afternoon, she kept getting distracted by messages notifications from Kate and other members of the GH Secrets group. She was gratified to see #gloryholegoddess attached to her when she shared the news of her first ever sucking experience - three cocks cumming in her mouth in her lunch break, at her local gloryhole, when she'd never sucked a cock before. They told her she was an absolute legend.

All she could think about was how soon she could go back. She thought about going straight from work; she would at least have been able to suck off the shop owner. Friday was days away! Kate texted asking her for a celebratory drink after work. As they shared a bottle of Merlot at a bar in the old town, Kate told her it was her husband Roy's 60th at the weekend. "I'm cooking a nice dinner for him - would you like to come over? It would make it memorable if a sexy young woman like you would bring his cake in for him!"

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She masturbated that night, conscious of the fact that she still had anonymous mens' spunk on her skin. She went over and over the details in her head, recounting them in the message group. Her taboo behaviour felt like a glorious secret now she no longer believed in an all-seeing supreme presence. She truly felt she could do anything she wanted to maximise her excitement and physical pleasure. She touched herself and as she fantasised about marathon sessions in that filthy toilet, splattered in cum, her mouth sore, a new possibility presented itself and triggered an extended, noisy orgasm - the idea of being watched.

The next morning, as she dressed for work and had coffee, she pondered recent events. She knew she was thinking about sex far more than was healthy or normal for a woman and wondered what part hormones were playing. She also felt unapologetic; although obviously not sharing her own situation she knew from conversations with university friends that a loss of interest in sex was far more common, and also frustration when a warm and sensual woman wasn't getting the attention she craved. That must be heartbreaking, she thought, before realising that her marriage had become similar, although her own narrow mindedness hadn't helped. She also realised that had her awakening occurred within marriage things could have been far worse.

She remembered her orgasm and tingled at what had initiated it. From the very first tentative viewings of her favourite gloryhole mag and subsequent searches for related material online, she enjoyed the irony of the sheer beauty of the images when the activity itself was supposed to ensure anonymity for the woman. 'Be who you want to be,' said the caption on one of the clips. 'Nobody will ever know.' This had really resonated with her; she'd suspected she would love sucking cocks detached from any kind of relationship, and she was correct in that assumption. Still, the thought of doing it with an audience excited her.

Not only that, she realised as she got to work. It was actually inevitable that she would experience that, although she knew she would need to be discreet. Her private life was nothing to do with her employer, but still... Some careful planning would be needed, as well as a bit of travel, which she didn't mind one bit. There was talk of business trips on the horizon, her management position now putting her on that trajectory, she noted.

Every day seemed to present new ideas and new fantasies. She thought about the gorgeous tattoo artist Cherie and her friend's daughter Millie; about young Dan masturbating while she watched, and the illicit pleasures of the adult bookshop and its filthy secret. She wanted to experience it all, she wanted to be the centre of attention in a gangbang, she wanted to be filmed sucking multiple cocks. It all excited her, but she was in no hurry, happy to let things unfold at their own pace.

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Friday came around quickly. She wore holdups under a skirt, and her signature messy bun, and excused herself at lunchtime saying she wouldn't be back that afternoon. At the bookshop she said hello to the guy, who she learnt was the owner and called himself Ron. There were a few men in there similar to earlier in the week. She leafed through various titles, wondering if the Chanel no5 she was wearing had sufficiently permeated through the room to cause universal erections. She noted Ron, talking quietly into his phone, glance in her direction, and she headed through to the toilets.