Neglect can lead you to places you never imagined…including a glory hole.

Disclaimer: I gave myself 30 minutes to see what I could produce. Hopefully, it’s a serviceable submission, and doesn’t rush too much to an end.

A long hallway. Low lights made even more dim by the shadowy tones of the dark walls. Tufted, velvet benches, equally dark in palette, ran the length of the hall, themselves lined with other women waiting their turns.

“Well. It’s what I expected when I read the ad, I suppose.” She could visualize it, the words burned into her memory. “Glory hole. Anonymity required and protected.” She ignored it at first. Twenty years of marriage dictated it. And if fidelity didn’t, morality did.

“I’ve been a faithful wife for two decades, and 44 is too old to change that.” For a while, she convinced herself of it. But the prospect of the ad never strayed too far from mind. Eventually she returned to the ad, jotting the date, time, and address down “just in case.”

She never believed she would actually do it. A completely strange cock, no concept of who it belonged to on the other side of wall. What his prior experiences were, what he liked, the anonymity a complete bar to communication. “I can’t do this,” she told herself, even as she pulled into the parking lot outside of the location. But the neglect she’d received at home outweighed the morality of her upbringing.

Now, sitting on those benches, the velvet nuzzling the exposed skin of the back of her thighs, she became acclimated to the idea. She really had little choice—she was next in line.

—

She almost didn’t notice when the door to the room opened. She definitely wasn’t mentally present when she stood up and began the walk to what she’d come to do. Oscillating emotions had rendered her almost unthinking, an automaton of motion. Her heart raced, truly raced, and she was convinced it had sprung into her throat. Loud, thumping music had been blaring the entire time she waited, but she hadn’t registered it until now, until she needed to steady her gait and had to decide whether it was the cascading bass that shook her body or her own heart that did it.

Trancelike, she moved forward, through the doorframe. Had she been capable of thinking, she’d have considered the competing interests involved in anonymity—the dual blessing and curse of mystery. Her partner, whoever he turned out to be, would have been impressed by her appearance, she was sure of it. At 44, she proudly looked her age, with the mark of aged beauty. Dark curls framed her face and silhouetted her shoulders. Regular gym patronage had toned her body, providing a perfect canvas for her round perky breasts. Taut, pink buds peaked on the mounds. It’s almost a shame, she thought, that all her hard work couldn’t be appreciated.

The door closed once she entered the room. A single round hole adorned the dividing wall. Nervously—half excitement, half panic—she approached that spot and kneeled to her knees as if unconsciously. She was hoping it would start soon; she didn’t want time to reflect on what she was doing. Then again, with the surge of adrenaline coursing through her body, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to comprehend her own actions or desires.

How old would he be? Was he also married? What personal conflict was he waging, if any? Each thought came with a thud in her chest. She focused on her breath, mainly to make sure her nerves weren’t making her breathing audible. “It’s not panic,” she told her. “It’s thrill.” She only slightly believed it.

In all her questions, she left out one—size. But that question was answered as a cock slid through the open hole. For a moment, there was complete silence, as she sat shocked still, not sure of her own consciousness in that moment.

She wasn’t sure if she’d vocalized the words or not: “holy hell.” Her timidity, as much as she could muster with a strange cock before her face, begged that she hadn’t. Her husband was decidedly average in size. It had been two decades since she’d encountered anything different. Yet dangling in front of her was 9-inches of hardness.

Shy instinct took over, and her hand lifted to encircle the unidentified shaft. At first her thoughts were empty, as were her actions. “Do something,” she chided herself mentally, and her hand slowly sprang in to action, tightening its grip ever so slightly and beginning its journey up and down the length.

Raw heat in the palm of her hand is all she initially registered. She still couldn’t believe where she was and what she was doing. Her hand traced the stiff rigidity, fingers flowing over the pronounced veins. It was bigger than her husband’s cock, a fact she lingered on that brought her shamed pleasure. “I don’t know if I can fit that in my mouth,” she thought as she continued lazily passing up and down the shaft, which reminded her there was more to be done.

A jolt of pleasure shot through her body and danced in her sex when she realized she’d opened her mouth and was inching toward his cock. Her lips met its head and pursed around it, and she suddenly wished she had a mirror to watch herself. Her hand continued its machinations as her lips and mouth readied itself. If her actions weren’t enough, the way she talked to herself internally caused her pussy to begin to weep. “I’m about to suck a big meaty cock that is not my husband’s” she thought, and that admission was the inertia she needed.

Closing her eyes, she gripped the base of his shaft, mentally taking note of its length. She locked her lips around its head as tightly as she could, and finally took his cock into her mouth. Slowly, she guided him into her warm wetness, her tongue flat against the base of his cock creating a runway for his oral penetration.

She steadied herself into a routine of sucking, back and forth, in and out, twisting her head as she went. She tried to steady her thoughts as she went. “I need this. God, I need this. I want this.” The more she took, the further her lips stretched around his shaft. She was convinced she’d reached her maximum.

She was about to retrace his cock back toward its head when she heard it. Even with the blaring music, a deep groan cut through the wall and hit her ears. That was it. The sound of bringing pleasure to such a big strange cock was all the motivation she needed. She pushed further until his head touched the back of her throat.

Her hand had been headed toward the juncture between her thighs. The deep fullness she felt in her mouth had created an intense need for attention. Without even touching herself, she knew her pussy was drenched. Reality checked in, however, and her body began to take over as her thoughts faded. And the reality was she was too inexperienced with big cocks to have one so deep in her mouth.

Her hand reversed course as the lumped head of his cock at the back of her throat created an intense urge to gag. Both hands shot flat against the wall as she braced herself. Her throat fluttered, almost in unison with the music, and threatened to eject the invader. Yet those same constrictions moved his cock deeper into her throat.

She was sure she had swallowed him whole at this point. Gags came fiercely, and those muscular lurchings massaged his cock, sending pleasures ripples back into his balls. “God, those balls. They must be fucking incredible. And so heavy and full of cum.”

It was if she spoke it into existence. She’d no more thought it and instinct had no more taken hold and begged her to clear her airway than she felt that familiar throb in his shaft. She knew what was coming, and she knew she was not prepared.

Sincere worry inundated her mind. She had not planned on swallowing a stranger’s cum at all when she entered the room, much less have it pumped ceaselessly down her esophagus. She didn’t even swallow for her husband. “I’m going to be the first woman in history to suffocate from cum.”

But worry turned to excitement as she felt his cock pulse again. She braced herself against the wall just in time as the first stream of spunk hit her throat, thick and warm, before it slid into her stomach. Involuntarily, she gagged again, chocking on its strong taste, which only milked his cock. A second rope shot from his balls, full and dense, and erupted down her pipe. She held on for dear life, her mouth slobbery around the base of his shaft, as he oozed into her, until he finally pulled his cock out of her throat in a single motion and back out the hole, disappearing as quickly as it appeared.

“Did that really happen,” she wondered to herself. “Did I really go through with it?”

She sat still for a moment before leaning against the wall. Panting, her chest heaved up and down, as her hand again found its way toward her cunt. She shocked herself back into conscious at how wet she had become, and a smirk crept across her face as she began to touch herself. “I never even took off my wedding ring,” she remembered. As much as that excited her, she knew she’d be back for more.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/mwk32t/neglect_can_lead_you_to_places_you_never