The Portable Gloryhole

Because you are, she thought. She ended up taking the wings to the couch for easy access and made a mental note to make sure she got most of them.

They ended up channel surfing, sitting on opposite sides of the couch. Todd had his shoes off and his feet up from the word go and Heather was simply relieved he didn't have her sitting in his lap or anything similarly degrading. The wings were good at least, though Heather declined any beer and Todd sucked up her share of that.

"Did you know," Todd said. "I was married to Jean for about a year. We went on down to the courthouse and got it done on a whim. You should have seen the look on mom's face when Jean showed up with her suitcase. Of course, those two fought a lot, and it got lots worse when we got pregnant."

Heather was trying to remember who he was talking about but came up with nothing.

So Todd kept going. "I guess we're still technically married, you know, since we never signed anything to split up, and we didn't want to deal with alimony or anything. But I haven't seen her or my son for a few years; they moved out of state."

"I see." Heather said.

"Do you think that means I'm cheating on her when I go out with someone?"

Who cares? Heather thought. "It's not like the state's gonna track you down for it. They don't even do that when the wife cares about it."

"That's what I thought. This chick I'm seeing said it's a problem, since it means I can't get married to her. I'm just having fun with her, so that's probably ending soon."

"Why aren't you staying with her, then?" Heather thought she might seize the opportunity to push him out the door.

"Her husband wouldn't like that. Last time he caught us, I nearly got stabbed with a kitchen knife. Yup, not easy at all out here, is it?"

"I hear it's better if you don't go after married women."

Todd sighed and took a long draw from his third can. "She's going to leave him for me. So I get to move in with a smoking hot widow with a paid-off mortgage."

"Widow? You mean divorcee, I hope."

He waved it off, too tired and wasted to think about it. Heather was pretty sure he'd been drinking on his way there. She could already hear her mother complaining about her packing him into a cab to send him home, so she made up her mind to let him stay the night.

"Okay," Heather said, going to her bedroom. "Check out time is six whether you're sober or not. Puke on my sofa and you're replacing it with a better one, got it?"

She was answered by a thumbs-up from behind the sofa and she shut her door, making sure the dead bolt was secured before she went to sleep.

Then she remembered what she left behind where he could find it. She reemerged to snatch up the portal ring and shut off her computer, then closed herself off for the last time and did her best to sleep with essentially a stranger in the next room.

-03-

A peek through a crack in the bedroom door confirmed that Todd had left at some point before late morning. So Heather was free to come out of her hiding spot and try to reclaim what remained of her weekend. There were beer cans lying all around even though her recycling sack was clearly visible on the kitchen wall, but they were thankfully the only things left behind.

Heather locked her door, cleaned up, and deleted the food delivery app which had caused her all this trouble.

Her Sunday routine would be to web surf for a while, probably masturbate, and leave her chair when her stomach growled, but she rubbed a lock of hair between her fingers and they came back covered in grease, so a shower had to come first.

She thought it must have been all her fun with the hole, making her sweatier than usual, and she ended up bringing it with her into the bathroom in her pocket. It clinked on the tile when she let her pants fall from her waist and she left it on the sink counter while she got the water hot.

There, she saw in the mirror a white crust stuck in her hair. It would be plain to see by anyone what it was, and now only Todd's sense of decency would keep it from spreading to everyone they knew. Heather choked down that stressful realization, adamant that she wouldn't deal with it that day.

Stepping into the hot spray of water, the worry melted away while she thought it through. It wasn't like she didn't have dirt she could let out on Todd, so it was much more likely that he just wouldn't talk about the night at all, but the potential story about her cum-crusted hair hung over her head all the same.

She finished cleaning her hair, making sure all of the offending matter was out, and tried to move on. Shivering on its first chilly touch, she spread body soap all over, caressing her soft curves with an girlish, floral scent. Through the fog on the mirror, she could only see so much, but with all that had happened recently, anything was bound to set her off.

Heather started rubbing, gliding her fingertips over her skin. Slowly, she noticed that she was only working on her nipples, her inner thighs. Bubbles puffed up and were washed away by rivulets of hot fluid flowing down her body from the showerhead. Her hand drifted up her sensitive thighs and bumped against her pussy, making her knees wobble dangerously.

It was a forgone conclusion. Any other day, she would have jumped out of the tub and gone to her toy box to retrieve her favorite bath toy: a rubber tentacle with delectable ridges, but she knew all along why she'd brought the portal ring with her.

She stepped out only a moment to pick it off the counter and hopped back in, heart racing. And she activated the ring, attaching it to the shower wall.

This time, the other side looked like it was in a men's room stall. The opposite wall was a patchwork of graffiti that nobody had bothered cleaning and Heather wondered what might be written around the other side of the hole. She knelt in the tub, casually fingering herself while she waited for her patron to arrive, thinking about what demeaning, filthy words were surrounding the hole.

Did it say "free slut"? Probably not, she thought, since the writer wouldn't know who would be there or what they might charge, but she knew that graffiti wasn't especially concerned with accuracy. She hoped it said "fuck me" or "dirty cunt" or something degrading on the same level, since she was the goddess that was offering up her mouth to some random, unwashed, truck rest-stop using dude.

The stall door on the other side swung open with a metallic squeal and a skinny guy in flannel entered. It seemed like he didn't notice the hole right away and went about his business loosing a stream of steaming piss into the toilet. It was odd for Heather, looking in on what should have been a private moment for the guy, fingering her pussy while imagining how his cock would look when it was hard and in her face.

But she had gone too far to turn back, and she rested a couple of her fingers on the rim of the hole.

She didn't see his reaction when he turned around, but she heard his gasp and her fingers were pushed back. Maybe he would be the first man to reject her gracious offer.

"Umm... hello?" came his raspy voice through the hole. "I don't really do this sort of thing, so I've got no condom or anything. How does forty bucks sound?"

Heather grumbled, putting her lips to the opening. "You think I want to talk to you? Hand the money through and give me your dick or go find someone with a pair who will."

Two twenties passed through that Heather threw out of the tub, then his cock.

It was bigger than the last one with curly, red hair peeking through at the base. The head was almost entirely covered with tight skin and it throbbed enticingly. Heather took a grip, feeling his pulse against her palm, and took a cursory sniff.

The smell hit her in the face like a brick in a sock. He smelled like he'd been sitting in a warm truck for the last week, pissing in bottles and showering in sinks without getting to the oil and sweat that he was stewing in. Pulling back the skin a little bit revealed a greasy, grimy buildup.

Hopped up on hormones, it smelled delicious. Heather scooped up some on her fingertip and nearly licked it up before coming to her senses and letting it wash away in the shower.

But she wasn't dissuaded. She decided to clean it up and squeezed out a big glob of body wash onto his greasy, spotted skin, pulling back on his foreskin until it sloughed off the head, baring all of his smegma. Moments later, she'd covered him up with sweet-smelling, pink soap and was fapping it, puffing it up with bubbles.

When She thought she'd done enough, she splashed his foamed-up cock, washing off the soap. He didn't look too much cleaner, but to Heather's addled mind he was no different than any of the other trash she'd sucked off recently.

A cursory lick, making his dick tense, let her know how her soap tasted. She spat the bitterness out, gargling in the shower to get it off her tongue.

Her fingertips glided across her pussy lips, her own wetness mingled with the shower's hot spray, and the cock hovered in her face, teasingly pulsating. She'd gone too far to turn back because of a little problem like taste, and where she'd placed the hole, just the right height to kneel and suck, she knew would be just right for something else too.

It would be the first time in years. Heather got up to her feet and turned her back to the wall, stroking the cock while she backed her ass up, preparing her heart.

Facing the shower head, drops pounding on her head and across her breasts, Heather's head pounded with stress. There were butterflies in her stomach like a pure, young virgin as the cock neared her slick, warm opening.

When she felt the head of his cock on her ass, she led it to her pussy, sliding it between her lips to tease them both. She knew she was stalling, anxious to let a stranger enter her most private, intimate place, so she started counting down to force herself.

Her chest pounded and her knees buckled while she whispered the numbers back to herself, but she didn't get past eight. She slipped back and her ass hit the wall, the cock firmly pressed between her cheeks.

It receded back into the hole and Heather knew at once what she had to do. She kept her ass pressed against the wall, leaving her pussy lined up for the man to use. Giving up control felt exhilarating more than she remembered, reaching between her legs and spreading her pussy lips as if to say, "What are you waiting for? You can do anything you want to me".

Soon enough, she felt the tip rubbing against her slit, wetting itself with her juices. He was the one teasing her now, and she wished he would get on with it, plow her like the whore she was. Her hot water had run out and chilling drops rained down on her head, dribbling down her chest and dripping off her rock hard nipples; she pinched and pulled at one, teasing herself from one side while the stranger's cock did it from the other.

The stranger pushed himself deeper and Heather's ragged moan rang between the shower walls. He still wasn't properly fucking her, like he was already nearing his limits, waiting for an incipient orgasm to recede before he really gave her what she wanted. It was still tantalizing, making little motions halfway in.

Through the shower door, Heather could see her silhouette in the bathroom mirror. She was the image of a bedraggled hooker, her taut nipple stretching between her fingers like the end of a balloon, wet, messy hair plastered to her shoulders, and her plump ass squished against the wall, eager for hard cock. She swallowed her nerves down and let the stranger do as he liked. For all she cared in this moment, he could keep going at this pace until he was satisfied.

But thankfully, his pace became more intense, pulling himself out and back to half his length again and again just slowly enough that Heather knew neither of them would cum any time soon. Her little gasps, her moans when he hit a nice spot filled the air, competing with the shower's heavy pattering. It was louder, she knew, than when she would play alone right here with any of her other toys.

She could feel her heart beating in her throat, yearning for relief as sensation pulsed through her from behind. He was finally going deeper, little by little with each agonizingly slow thrust, digging his way to her depths with his hot rod. But she wanted it harder, to feel his cock savage her deepest part.

Once he finally reached it, he stopped entirely, his cock held within her warm, wet folds and throbbing against her. It was like he thought he needed to give her a rest, let her adjust to his size, and Heather hated him for it.

Despite her wobbly knees, she pulled her ass off the shower wall and slammed herself back onto his cock. The shock of it made her bite her lip to avoid squealing, but she did it again and he seemed to get the message. They met together in the middle as she smacked her ass on the wall, taking dick like a horny slut, holding back her squeaks but hearing her own moans echo in her ears.

Sensation accreted to a peak like a pile of sand, anything would have set it made it collapse. Heather imagined the skinny, unwashed trucker desperate to grab her waist and slam himself inside her as if she were his personal pocket pussy, but he was her portable dildo instead.

Her thrusts forced out heavy breaths and her head felt light. It took too much thought to keep playing with her tits, so Heather rested her hands on her aching knees. She could feel herself passing the point of no return, but she wanted so much to cum with a pussy full of cum that she barely held on.

And then she came. Heather pressed her ass to the wall, hoping her lover would get the hint and keep going, letting her ride the waves of ecstasy while getting himself off. From the way he pounded himself against her depths, he knew damn well what she wanted.

The pounding came to a sudden stop and Heather was flooded with warmth. Her lover stayed inside her, pulsating with hot, white fluid as she caught her breath.

She slid off and knelt in the tub, pussy throbbing and goosebumps all over. It was too good, she knew she would get hooked on it. Fingering her sopping wet slit, she had his thick, gooey cum covering her fingers.

The hole was still there when she turned around and her unknown lover had his eye to it, trying to get a glimpse of his truck stop goddess. But she stopped that right quick, covering the hole with her hand, resisting the urge to poke out his eye for the impertinence.

"Umm, sorry." he said. "You were so good, I just wanted to say thanks."

Heather put her lips right up to the hole, hoping it would turn off soon since she didn't really know how to.

"Asshole." she said. "If I wanted to talk, I would have gone outside. Read the room."

She had only finished talking that her finger brushed up against what she'd assumed was the on button and the portal closed without a sound. Thankfully it didn't just fall like it had before, she had no idea how fragile the ring was and the only thing below it was wet porcelain.

At this point, afterglow fading, Heather noticed three things: the shower was ice cold, her knees hurt, and she was going to need birth control for the first time in years.

In an extreme divergence from her normal Sunday routine, Heather went out into the sunlight.

Taking the back staircase, she avoided any potential contact with her neighbors. It was a cloudless day that stabbed Heather in the eyes despite the big, floppy-brimmed hat she wore for just this purpose. The other purpose of her big hat, to hide her identity from easy identification, served her well as she hurried toward the drug store.

It would be just the way her luck went to be forced outside during the day, wearing dirty sweats because she had no interest in dressing up for a twenty-minute trip. She planned to feign illness if someone she knew did see her, going to the store for cold medicine and wearing the uniform of the home-bound. Nobody needed to know that she was full of a stranger's warm cum, out to make sure she didn't have a dirty, truck stop pregnancy.

The portal ring jingled in her purse against her keys, haphazardly tossed in on her way out just in case. It needled her in the back of her mind, memories of getting fucked in the convenience of her own shower at the forefront. In fact, she couldn't stop thinking of what fun she would have once she returned home.

On arrival at the pharmacy, Heather was relieved to be alone with the worker, thinking until then that she might have to ask for birth control within earshot of some grandmother waiting on her own medicine. But she got the pills without much fuss and swallowed them in the store with bottled water.

Then she noticed the restrooms.

Her heart went wild against her breast and her throat felt dry with anxiety as she checked nobody was looking at her, then entered the restroom. It was a proper room, just small enough that she wouldn't have been able to lie down, and while an effort had been made to keep it clean, there was still graffiti on the walls and suspicious, sticky stains on the floor.

Heather checked a few times to make sure the door was locked, even jiggling the knob, but it couldn't soothe her nerves and she wasn't sure she wanted it to. She fished the portal ring out of her purse and faltered, staring at it in her hand and unable to bring herself to stick it to the wall.

A few steadying breaths let her scrape up the will to force her hand forward, pressing the ring to the wall and activating it.

There was no-one on the other side: a bathroom much like the one she was kneeling in. Heather wondered how long she could wait in there before the employees got suspicious. If they did, she didn't know how to turn the portal off and leave with it; the thing had always happened to turn off right after she was done with that session.

She decided she would gouge the tile off the wall with the portal attached if it came to that. But it wouldn't, a man entered on the other side and Heather poked a couple of fingers through to entice him.

The man lowered himself to the hole and his eye appeared in the opening, but Heather threw herself to the side before he could sneak a peek. And he had clearly seen that.

"Sorry, sweetie." he cooed. "Wanted to get a little 'inspiration' if you catch my meaning. Look, all I got for paper is ten bucks. What'll that buy me?"

Heather turned her fingers in the hole and beckoned him closer so she could whisper. "Don't worry. I want to have a little fun, okay?" she said. "What do you want? I'm your little whore today." Her body tightened with humiliation and her face burned, but it was too exciting to stop. "C'mon, I need it." she begged.

He was into it immediately, and she could hear the smirk in his tone. "Fine, slut, I want a nice, soft titjob. So go ahead and push your tits up against the wall like a good girl."

While Heather prickled at the thought of laying her breasts on a dirty, graffiti-covered wall, she obeyed. She wanted to be a good girl, to make her temporary master happy. So she pulled up her shirt, bunching int against her chin, and knelt as close as she could to the wall, pressing her tits against the wall, straddling the hole.

It wasn't long at all that she felt something. The man's fingers pressed between her tits, slick with something that he spread within the crack. What kind of man was this, to have lube so readily available? She sighed as his fingers caressed her skin, almost too gently for what they were about to do. It was embarrassing enough to be offering herself to a complete stranger, again, but his soft touch laid a new layer of shame on Heather's mind.

Just do it already, she wanted to beg him. She watched the door, sure that an employee could unlock it from the other side if they wanted to, but she couldn't miss the way he fingered between her breasts, tickling up and down the crevasse, giving her a preview of what his cock would be doing soon. The anticipation had her bouncing against the wall, hoping her eagerness would reach him.