The Portable Gloryhole

His fingers retreated and there was something else pressing into the crack. His cock head emerged, pushing aside her breasts as it rode the slickness, growing up and up, curving toward her face.

It was huge, the head popped up from between her tits and she finally got her first peek at her lover. The head glowed cherry red and shone in the fluorescent lighting with lube, throbbing and urgent. Heather couldn't keep her shirt where it was, where it might get in the way, and so pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. Where it landed didn't matter, there were more pressing matters at hand, hot against her chest.

Heather gave the tip a little kiss and took up her breasts in her hands, pressing them together like a makeshift pussy, and she stroked him, engulfing his cock in her softness and bouncing herself off the wall. She thought for a moment that he might have wanted to pump himself against her chest, but she dismissed it; her master deserved to be pampered after all. When the head popped out to say hello, she would quickly pop it into her mouth and give it a lick before sending it back between her soft tits.

She hoped it would explode against her tongue, coat the inside of her mouth with his hot seed, but she couldn't get greedy. If it blew up into her neck, splattering against her chest and neck, she decided she would wear it home like a badge of honor, only licking it up once her heart-racing trip was complete.

Moans came from the other side, hushed and heady, and Heather's heart jumped with pride. She slowed down, really savoring each stroke, the way his skin slid against hers, and the squishing, popping of the lube between them. This wouldn't be a quickie, she decided that her master should get an experience that he would tell his friends about, that men would line up just for a chance at having a turn.

"Just like that, baby." he said. "Twirl your tongue around it like a piece of candy, like you're licking your way to the creamy center."

Heather smiled. "Okay daddy." she said.

She took the head between her lips and kept it there, bouncing her tits as much as she could in the position while tracing the edge of his head with the tip of her tongue. It felt like his cock was begging to finish, pulsating on her tongue and leaking tasty precum. But she wouldn't end it like this. It hadn't been enough, she wanted to feel like her lover was standing on his tiptoes on the other side of the hole, bracing himself against it with his arm in the throes of agony, kept on one side of orgasm.

The man tried to thrust, hitting the roof of her mouth, and Heather pulled away entirely. There she knelt, half nude, with lube and saliva coating her chest, watching as her lover's cock bounced from the hole in an aborted orgasm. A chuckle rose in her throat, silenced before either her man or a listener could hear, and she waited for him to calm down. She bent forward to rest her cheek on the wall, the cock slapping wetly against her other cheek in its desperation to cum.

Once it had calmed down, she wrapped her fingers around its girth and slowly stroked it, then said into the hole, "Are you a quick shot or something, daddy?"

The only response was a frustrated groan, so Heather knew he was on the ropes.

Again, she nestled his giant cock between her tits and pressed herself to the wall, making herself the perfect pocket pussy for him.

"Come on, daddy, fuck me!" she said, unconcerned with whether anyone else could hear. "Slam your hot dick into my tits! Spray my face so I'll smell like you! Please, do it!"

She positioned herself just right, lips against her soft flesh so his thrusts would go straight into the warm wetness of her mouth.

Her master took the hint, plunging into her, ramming his meat into her mouth so fast that she had no time to lick before his next thrust came, splitting her tits and her lips with each attack. It was overwhelming, his hot dick pumped against her like the piston of a runaway train, making it difficult to keep herself pressed against the wall.

She knelt there on the public bathroom floor, the sound of squishing filled her ears and the taste of cock and lube were forced against her tongue as she did all she could to stay obediently against the wall. The thrum of his cock forced against her chest beat like a drum while her heart did the same on the other side, resounding inside her. Heather wanted like nothing else to let go of her chest and plunge her fingers between her legs, bring herself off, but she couldn't do that without leaving her lover to fend for himself.

While her pussy burned and wetness spread in the crotch of her pants Heather kept herself steady, let herself be used like the pocket pussy she was. She couldn't let herself fidget in her seat or give her sore knees a break; that wasn't what she was here for. No, she was here to be a receptacle for cum. Her own pleasure didn't matter.

She heard a moan from the other side and in the middle of a stroke, her lover's cock spurted hot cum. It landed on her chin, against her chest, and leaked between her tits. The smell of it knocked Heather back, sticking to the back of her throat. His dick dribbled out cum as he finished, and Heather squeezed the last of it out with her fingers onto her waiting tongue below.

He pulled back out of the hole and Heather pressed her face up to it, letting him see that she had collected his thick, creamy seed, then swallowed it down and let him see that too.

And he kissed her.

It was surprising, but unlike the last time this had happened, she didn't mind it. Her lover's tongue flickered inside her mouth, against her tongue, reveling in the afterglow. This wasn't a simple thank-you, it felt like prince charming had finally found his one true love after a lifetime and this was his only chance to show his love.

Then Heather pulled out of the kiss and the portal closed. Her connection with prince charming was lost forever and she was left as a half-nude, cum-soaked whore trembling with arousal on a convenience store bathroom.

She hurriedly dressed and forced an orgasm with her fingers on the toilet, then took the long walk home with cum drying on her face.

-04-

Monday morning came too fast.

Heather awoke at the third snoozed buzz of her alarm. She was nude in bed, portal ring lying with her in a puddle of her juices that she had been too lazy to clean up before bed. It wad worked, attached to her sheets, bringing out the cocks that she had spent all of her Sunday pleasing. Her pussy seeped cum, but those stains were never going to come out, so after the first one she didn't bother trying to tidy up.

In fact, after her return from the drug store, Heather had stripped to her birthday suit and stayed like that, taking breaks from surfing the web with a nice dicking from some stranger. Her computer chair was barely saved by a bathroom towel, but her bedspread was well and truly too dirty to bother trying to save.

She pressed her face into one of the cum stains, drawing a heady breath of her various lovers' smells. It didn't feel fair that she should have to go to work, especially with the fistful of crumpled bills she was given for her service. But she still went through the motions, cleaning out her pussy in the shower and dressing formally for the first time in days.

They were still working on the transfer to the new software, a pain in the ass process that had to be restarted every time management went to a seminar and got ideas in their heads about efficiency. Heather considered calling out sick to get a little more time to play, but she knew that it would never be just one sick day; if she stayed home today, she wouldn't be able to force herself to work in the real world ever again.

But as Heather drew on her pantyhose, she was inspired. She pressed the portal ring to the fabric in the crotch of her pantyhose and it worked perfectly. A hastily written sticky note she pressed to the wall under the other side of the hole made it perfectly clear what she wanted.

"Use me."

Heather felt the metal settled against her skin on the way to the train, her pussy revealed for anyone who wanted it on the other side. The anticipation was a weight on her chest and she could feel cold sweat beading on her face, shame tightened her throat. Her walk to the train went without incident, without any takers, and she took her seat, thankful to get one in the packed morning rush.

She looked at the faces around her, flicking between them with the fear of recognition. Once someone on the other side did take her offer, would she be able to hide it in the midst of all these people or would her slutty nature be revealed to the world as she humped thin air?

As if reacting to her anxiety, Heather felt a cool breath against her cunt. She jumped in her seat, drawing a few eyes, but thinking fast, she pulled out her phone and pretended to have gotten a message or something, to have been surprised by her phone's vibration. She tidied herself up just in time for a finger to begin prodding her hole, testing her tightness.

Laying her hands on her legs, Heather managed not to gasp when the finger from the other side shot up, probing her depths. She wiggled in her seat, barely able to act like she was stretching, but she saw that an old man on the other side of the train car was looking her way and smiled.

She smiled back while the finger waggled inside her pussy, stirring her soft, wet hole. There was no way the old man could guess what was really happening to the nice, young woman across from him, but she worried that he might think she had hidden a vibrator for her morning commute.

Then, when the person sitting next to Heather got off on their stop, the worst thing happened. The old man got up on wobbly knees and took the seat that had opened up, looking to Heather with a toothless smile.

"Morning." he said. "This side has the better view, don't you think?"

Heather bit her tongue and cleared her throat, hoping her voice wouldn't wobble while she got stirred up from below.

"Right." she managed.

"Nice day, isn't it? It feels like we're almost out of the rainy season, I can feel it."

She nodded, hoping the old guy would take the damn hint and shut up. The fingers in her pussy spread out and she could feel a thumb gliding up to her clit, gently rubbing. It rattled Heather's chest to keep steady amid the sensation and she could feel her cheeks burning, cold sweat starting to bead on her forehead.

Nobody noticed, or at least nobody said anything. Her chest heaved against her blazer, holding back desperate moans and gasps while her newest lovers' fingers probed her insides. Heather braced herself on her knees, holding out the best she could as her stop approached.

But the old man didn't shut up.

"Never liked living in the city, you know. It's just too loud. Me and Martha have been saving up for a while and we're moving out to the coast pretty soon. I guess we won't have long there, but it's better late than never, don't you agree?" he blathered.

Heather nodded again, more focused on the feeling of her lovers' fingers than the inane ramblings of a geezer. But a thought occurred: She could have already sucked his dick.

The thought drew out equal amounts of disgust and hunger. She had no idea who was ever on the other side of the hole, and it had stopped mattering to her anyway. Did she really care it the fingers inside her belonged to some wrinkly, old bag?

It did matter. It was even hotter.

Eyes drawn to the corduroy crotch beside her, Heather imagined the old man's wrinkly meat sliding inside her, using her like a cum bucket. Her abdomen tightened, supportively, heat gathering where she knew her lover could feel it on his fingertips.

Not only was she getting fingered on the train, where everyone could see her, she couldn't get the mental image of old dick to go away. The man beside her went on and on about things that neither interested her nor involved her while the man below her did what he wanted. The train interior faded into the back of her mind, and she thought for a moment that she might not mind getting caught.

Would people laugh? Take pictures? All they would know is that there was some crazy bitch on the train that morning with a sex toy shoved up her cunt, leaking juices on the upholstery. They wouldn't know the sordid truth, that they were watching someone get fucked.

Luckily, Heather's stop arrived and she snapped back to reality, taking up her bag and rushing to the door without a good-bye. And at that very moment, her lover ripped his fingers free from her wet pussy.

She nearly tripped getting out onto the sidewalk with weak knees. There was still the walk to her building to go and she was already this out of it, and she worried if she would be able to make it there at all. There wasn't anywhere in the meantime that she could duck in and remove the ring. More importantly, she didn't want to.

Starting her walk, the man on the other side lined up his hard dick to the opening of her pussy and pushed. Heather had to stop and let him, his girth parting her wet folds like a drill. It was a monster, scraping away at her insides in a way she had never felt before. It had her stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, lip bitten, toes curling in her shoes to keep from squealing like a stuck pig.

Thankfully, her lover seemed to understand how his colossal dick would affect a woman, and once he had dully inserted, he stopped to let her loosen up around him.

Heather took the opportunity to scurry along, making it to her office building, through the lobby without any pleasantries, and into the elevator. Once there, between four mirrored walls, her lover moved.

He was slow, smoothly drawing himself out of her pussy and drilling back down into her with his agonizing width. It was all Heather could do to grasp a handrail with tight, white fingers and lock herself down from gasping in glorious pain to his every thrust.

She had to scoot into the corner as the elevator ascended through the building, seeming to stop at every floor to let someone in or off. Though she was forced to give perfunctory greetings to her coworkers, she wouldn't have known who they were for the tears that clouded her eyes. All the while, her lover plunged his massive rod into her deepest depths with his lazy rhythm, somehow more distracting than it would have been to get a crazy piston.

It was almost enough to make Heather miss her floor, stepping out at the last second while her coworkers remained crammed in their small box. Though the ring was tightly fit enough to prevent it, she imagined that her pussy might have dripped down her leg, damping her pantyhose and giving everyone there a free show.

Returning to her desk after the weekend, she tamped down fantasies of pulling up her skirt in the elevator, showing off her plump, round ass to them while her lover pounded her from behind. It wouldn't be worth the trouble, she told herself, no matter how hot it seemed in the moment. A life in her apartment, living off tips and getting free dick all day, seemed like a better deal each time she thought it up.

But finally in her cubicle, safe except to one side, Heather knew she had to get this guy off before she could start her work for the day.

To keep herself from discovery, she took a bandanna from a drawer and fashioned an impromptu gag, shoving it in her mouth to muffle her moans. She turned her desk chair to face out toward the window. Only someone walking to the stairs would go by her desk, uncommon enough, and she could imagine someone on the outside looking up at the building, never knowing what was going on behind the glass.

She reached between her legs and took the ring between her fingers, stretching her pantyhose so that she could thrust herself down onto her lover's giant cock.

It only took one sit-down for him to get the hint. His pace accelerated, pounding up into her like a meat mallet wielded by a frustrated butcher. Her belly hurt and her back arched over her chair, the bandanna wadded up in her mouth hopefully doing its job as her salivation saturated it.

The sounds of office work surrounded Heather; the clatter of drawers opened and closed, of tools being set in their proper places, and the first emails of the day being typed out. None of it mattered next to the sound of her own moaning, trapped in her throat, caught before they could deafen her or alert her coworkers to her activities. She kept an ear perked up, waiting for the patter of footsteps leading up to discovery.

Her lover didn't stop, he couldn't have known how dangerous it would be for her if she screamed, impaled by his cock. His job was simple: keep using her hole like she wasn't a person, just a hole meant for semen.

Heather crossed her ankles, gripping the hem of her skirt for the strength to go on without devolving into a breeding sow, sopping wet on all fours, ass bouncing into an invisible dick.

Orgasm came like being run over by a horse and her lover's thrusts weren't stayed for a moment. It dragged her under, head bent between her knees, teeth grinding against her improvised gag. He kept at it until she would have been begging him to stop with teary eyes, brought her past the brink of pleasure into torment, and only then did he unload his hot, sticky fluid deep inside her.

He pulled out of her and Heather could feel her stretched-out pussy winking at him, leaking cum into the portal. Unexpectedly, she felt something soft and wet gently wiped across her slit. If she hadn't been recovering, she might have laughed; none of the others had been so kind as to use a wet wipe.

And something else, he slipped something through the hole into her pantyhose. Once Heather made herself back up, smoothing wrinkles and throwing away a chewed-up, damp bandanna, she found a hundred dollar bill and a scrap-paper note saying, "thank you so much".

Then, nothing.

It was almost disappointing that there wasn't another guy in line right after the last, and Heather was forced to do actual work while she waited for the next one, but her aching pussy was grateful for the break. A little later, still going through her daily routine of figuring out what in her inbox was worth reading, she felt the next cock slip in.

This guy was nothing compared to the last, but that accounted for most guys, and he wasted no time planting himself inside to the base. Heather tensed up in her chair, but she was able to keep working while the little guy did his best.

It was like the kind of masturbation she often did on a weekend night, keeping herself going while she searched for just the right thing to finish on an hour later. He thrust in a way that said he was in it for the long haul, taking his time to enjoy her warm, juicy folds.

She wondered if the last guy had told anyone, if she had a line of men just waiting their turn in the hall. Checking her mail, Heather passed by information without reading anything too closely, squirming in her chair while her newest lover dipped himself inside her. After a dragged-out orgasm like the last one, she was left extra sensitive, having to muffle her little gasps of pleasure.

The fabric walls of her cubicle did a great job of keeping her secret, but the echoing sounds of typing and mundane conversation around her kept her on her toes. If those tiny sounds were being carried to her ears so well, how much must the people around her hear?

When the second man finished inside her, another took his place within seconds, plunging deeply into her pussy, squirting with the other two men's cum. He came in with such sudden force that Heather dropped to her elbows on her desk, bracing herself for the furious pumping that began.

And then Gary came around.

Her boss leaned against the opening to Heather's cubicle, catching her in the middle of getting absolutely reamed from below. The cock currently pounding her wasn't as big as the first, but its owner's enthusiasm more than made up for it, building up heat with the speed of his thrusts. And all she could do was sit up straight and greet her boss as if nothing was different.