If you haven't read my previous adventures, well, what's wrong with you? My name's Paula Oort, I have 38DD boobs, am more than moderately attractive, and I love sex. All kinds! I've been taking time to put some of my adventures into story form, since my friends and lovers have encouraged it - but mostly because I love showing off. I like to know that my words are getting the blood flowing on all sorts of cocks, and perhaps the juices flowing on some pussy as well. They get me going again - so far, every story I've written down has had to be interrupted numerous times while I stop to relieve the need to cum! Here's hoping this one will work out as well.
In between college - where most of my adventures so far have occurred - and today, some twelve years later, I've continued to explore my sexual nature. One of the things that I read about in stories on Literotica (a free website filled with erotica from many people about many topics) was glory holes. A lot of stories there seemed to come from the point of view of men who had discovered them, and in some cases decided to use the anonymity factor to experiment with cock sucking. Still other stories dealt with husbands using them to expose their wives to others in the relative safety of the locked room with the hole in the wall. And, of course, there were variations on those and other themes.
At first I wasn't particularly interested. Partially because a lot of what I enjoyed about fellatio was watching the faces of the men as I sucked them to orgasm. I loved the expressions on their faces and how they would change over time. At least that's what I told myself, since I was generally open to anything regarding sex. Almost anything. Glory holes were in the almost category.
A year or so after graduating from college, I was living on my own in suburban New Jersey. I normally wouldn't have picked that location, except the job I landed was ready to promote me if I moved and took over their branch office there. Once I arrived, I realized that I knew too much about the state from TV, movies and comedians, and not enough based on my own experiences. That didn't sit well - have you gotten a sense that I'm a demon for independence yet? - and so I began to explore. I go out in the evenings and find a new restaurant or bar. I'd travel to historic locations and began to find myself fascinated by the history of the state. To say nothing of the surprising nature of nature. The place was growing on me.
One of the things I noticed (remember my basic interest?) was the number of adult bookstores, theaters and the like. There seemed to be at least one in every town with more than three traffic lights and two gas stations. (Okay, that's probably an exaggeration, but I'm also one trying for the laughs.) At some point, the sheer number of them caught my attention. As did a need for novelty, as I had grown rather familiar with all my toys, and it seemed to take longer and longer to get off using them.
Thus, I began a rather informal survey of the adult stores. When I first began, it seemed that they were primarily selling magazines. I remember shelves and shelves of them, divided by categories, wrapped in cellophane, and showing ever more explicit pictures. The kinds that began to interest me, as evidenced by how wet I got. And there wasn't really any rhyme or reason about what would excite me on any given day. I built up a growing library of porn magazines. My favorites tended to be those with both pictures and stories. Sometime they were synchronized - that is, the photos reflected the story line - and other times they were just segmented. I think it's where I originally got the idea about writing my own material, frankly.
Those bookstores (since that's what they were at the beginning) were also home to volumes of paperback porn. Remember, the internet wasn't always with us - many people used to actually hold books and read them! And some of them were very arousing. And inspiring. They would do when I was between available partners.
Of course, don't forget the toys! The one thing that's changed for the better since then has been that prices for them have come down while the realism factor had gone up. I still remember finding one particular store that had the most amazing collection of insert able items I ever saw! One entire wall was devoted to toys for butts. They ranged from inch-long mini-cocks to things like looked like traffic cones! For the butt? I couldn't imagine some of the more extreme examples, but when I did decide to indulge and expand my anal horizons, that was the store I chose for the twelve-inch black tube I take out every once in a while and work into my ass. Never had anything approach it, including the biggest real dicks I've been with. After I've finished a session with it I am left feeling that you could drive a truck into my ass!
Not only are there phallic objects for my vaj, there are innumerable vibrating and buzzing toys to be applied to those other special locations. I have vibrators that attach to my nipples, freeing up my hands for other things, vibrators that I can wear all day pressing up against my clit and more. Yes, I have my Magic Wand - nothing beats it - but it's not exactly portable. I still fondly remember one weekend when I was snowed in and spent hours devoted to my own enjoyment of my body - I think I was still vibrating when I walked back into work the following Monday. I wonder if it's worth telling you about that weekend. We'll see.
Anyway, before I get too far off-track, there was another feature of the adult stores that made them different - the video booths. Again, prior to the internet and free videos on your phone or your watch or your google glasses, adult stores sold - or rented - adult videos. They were the Blockbuster of porn. If you don't get the reference, google it, okay?
That was a very eye-opening aspect of my growth and development. I remember one afternoon, staring at the list of titles that could be viewed on the ten channels of one particularly sleazy establishment in Atlantic City. And it was a truly varied menu, ranging from a couple of straight one-on-one movies to an interracial flick, two gang bang films, two lesbian features, two gay male movies and another one or two. (They blur together nowadays, so my count may be off.) And if I got a handful of tokens I could go into a booth and watch whatever I wanted. That made it easy for me to get change and go in.
It was sleazy. No question. The room smelled like come. I saw wadded up tissues on the floor and was careful what I touched and where I sat. But when I ignored that and put my money in, I had a smorgasboard of sex to pick from. I wasn't naïve - as you know - so it wasn't that there was anything new, but something about even the familiar made them especially arousing. I watched until the tokens ran out, and rubbed out at least two orgasms during that time. I suppose I added to the smell in the room, but at least I didn't leave any evidence behind. I left that store knowing that I would continued my exploration else where at another time.
Some time soon after that, I read another "trip to the adult bookstore time at the glory hole" story and it took on an entirely new dimension for me. I had been to one. Sat in a booth. Did it have a hole in it and was I oblivious? Or was the whole idea literary fiction? I now had a mission - find one for myself. I mean, why not? I already liked sucking cock. Frankly, there wasn't much I didn't like. Maybe it was time to push my own envelope.
It wasn't too much later until I walked into the ABS close to where I was living. It was summertime, so I was in a sun dress. A pretty short one, as I recall. The ABS was a place I thought I knew, but I hadn't ever gone into the theatre part. Ever the adventurer, I changed a ten-dollar bill for tokens and stepped inside the curtains that separated the video section from the storefront. Again, they had a glass cases with scenes and titles from the different selections being show. Categorically it was much the same, but now it wasn't the content that interested me. I walked through the area, pressing doors that were closed so I could see inside. Those that were locked I made a note to come back to.
It turns out my method wasn't fool proof. One door opened to reveal an older man, naked, with a small cock in his hand. I backed out without saying a word - let him deal with it, I thought. But then I opened one door and saw one, I walked in, locked the door behind me and fed a few tokens in the slot. Sitting down I could see that the other room was already occupied and bent forward to see what was there. I stopped when I hand reached through and seemed to beckon me. It took a moment - but that's when I realized the dude on the other side thought I had a dick and was there to get off. Ha!
