In the GHSecrets message group she told about the boy, how she was thinking about inviting him over, and admitted she had never performed oral sex. She received lots of encouragement – the consensus was that she’d never look back – but a seed was planted by another member, JuliaGHfun. “Have your first ever sucking experience at a GH. You won’t regret it. Sooo hot!!” She got even more encouragement for this; none of the women on the group knew anyone who could claim that accolade.
She was always struck by the number of amateur pictures and videos of women at gloryholes, and the pleasure on their faces. Clearly, women loved doing this. Could it be considered deferred gratification? If the woman doesn’t get direct simulation, she surmised, then she is building her excitement by doing something illicit with strangers. She noted the women did occasionally impale themselves on the guys’ cocks, though. She assumed a lot of them were respectable women who revelled in the filthy surroundings and their own sordid behaviour. Respectable women like herself. How did she fall so quickly from her quiet, reserved and upstanding persona to her current preoccupations? All she knew was she had no intention of trying to put the genie back in the bottle.
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She’d smoked the last of the cigarettes so she called in at the corner shop on the way to work, obviously nervous as she had never been involved in this kind of transaction. She’d rehearsed what she would say, to avoid looking like she didn’t know what she was doing. “Can I have a pack of the Silk Cut purple 100s, please?” It was an easy process, but a rather expensive one, which seemed oddly stimulating to Laura. Lately, she had given up trying to second guess how she would react to details like that.
She’d never taken cigarettes out of the house, but it was a warm, bright day so as she saw Natalie head outside at break time, she surreptitiously unwrapped her pack inside her bag, removing the cellophane and foil, and followed her out. As the smoking area was visible from Laura’s desk, she had been watching Natalie most days, and had mimicked her style at home, in front of the mirror. Consequently her cigarette was already hanging from her lips as she exited through the glass doors, and she lit up in a fluid movement. As they chatted, her arms were folded with her cigarette held horizontally just inches from her mouth. She would take the occasional slow, luxurious drags appropriate for a stylish, confident woman; her fingers spread apart, her eyes narrowing, finished off by a voluminous, creamy exhale. She absolutely loved smoking; she was determined not to become addicted and could see how a habitual smoke break with Natalie every day might not be the best idea – she enjoyed every cigarette being a little adventure and a treat, especially in public because she was naturally reserved, and felt smoking drew attention to her.
As she returned to her desk, she learned that her knickers were absolutely soaked. She giggled to herself and blushed; she was usually playing with herself when she smoked, and as she had been chatting with Natalie a few minutes earlier, watching her toss her blonde fringe from her eyes, Laura had of course been imagining her on her knees in a filthy toilet, sucking a black cock through a hole in the wall. She had assumed that explained her lubricated state.
She did think about Peter from time to time. She had obviously rushed into the divorce when her fragile moral code and narrow experiences were challenged. She felt she had opened up to new possibilities; would she have tolerated the affair if she’d been more open minded? Indeed, would he have had an affair at all? She wasn’t sure she wanted to go back to how life was before – he had done her a huge favour, although she did miss him. She resolved to give him a ring.
Laura had been thinking for a while about tattoos. She didn’t want a meaningless sanskrit symbol or a tiny hidden butterfly – she loved to see women with whole arms inked. She also loved piercings, loved the whole alt chic look. She’d only ever had sex with one man, and had a strict upbringing, but by now felt able to celebrate her body, which was clearly not built for monogamy or denial, and her love of eroticism. One Saturday, she visited a tattoo studio and asked for both her thighs to be tattooed with lace bands and bows to replicate stocking tops. She’d seen several porn girls and models with these, and thought them the prettiest things ever. She had great legs and imagined wearing tiny denim shorts to really show them off. She was told that it would take four visits, one for each bow and one for each band. The artist, an extremely hot woman about her own age, asked her to remove her trousers and lie face down on a couch. Laura was wearing a thong so the artist, who introduced herself as Cherie, said she would fetch a towel for her modesty. Cherie did seem to take a long time to unfold and place the towel across Laura’s buttocks – she suspected the artist was gauging how she would respond to being exposed that way. Laura almost audibly purred at the vulnerability she felt, subtly opening her knees apart slightly, and hoped Cherie would be able to smell her arousal.
She felt Cherie’s hand on her upper thigh and flinched slightly. She told Laura to relax.
“I’m a little tense… I think I could do with a massage.”
“I’d like to give you a massage,” she replied.
They chatted as the tattoo artist worked on her left thigh. Laura told her life story, somewhat limited as it was, concluding with the fact she was finally rebelling against her parents, with cigarettes, pornography and now tattoos. Cherie asked her what was her favourite kind of porn, she responded instantly with ‘gloryholes’. She realised that was the first time she had said the word out loud. She followed it up with “I quite like gloryhole videos… It’s so sleazy. I mean, I would never… Oh my god, I’m blushing so much right now. It’s a good job I’m face down!” The artist leaned in and whispered in her ear, “that’s so hot. And I quite like you face down…”
Like so many things, Laura had never experienced lesbian flirting. It seemed these days that every situation had the potential to make her tingle and fantasise. She started to relax and enjoy herself. After a few minutes of the work on her leg, and the burning sensation, she broke the silence. “So… What I was talking about a minute ago… Have you ever, you know…?”
Cherie left off for a minute. “Oh no, baby. I like girls, but I do really like those videos. I like to look at girls sucking cocks, too…”
Laura purred; she wanted the artist to know she was aroused. “What if I told you I’d never had a… cock in my mouth?”
Cherie put her hands on both Laura’s thighs. “Then it makes what you said earlier even hotter.” She picked up her phone and took a picture of her work, showing the client. “All done; don’t worry, that redness will fade in a couple of days.”