the holy well: sticky situations (part 2)

[This is sort of a part 2 from an earlier story “the holy well: lockdown & dirty” (Jan 22, 2022) and I make no apologies for how darkly naughty it is, that’s if you think it is which you might not, oh well, maybe you’ll have to read it and find out ~x]

Now I know what you’re thinking, what is she thinking! And maybe, didn’t she learn her lesson the first time she went to that place?

Well, it seems not, or maybe I just couldn’t resist the pull of nature, my nature. We are who we are, like what we like, do what we do, and sometimes once a forbidden fruit is tasted there’s no going back, so, why resist?

Excuses out of the way then for finding myself back here in the adorably-named and nondescript hideaway, ‘The Holy Well’, inside its sanctum within my own, at least for an hour and a half, cubicle space. If you didn’t know of this building in the first place you’d barely even notice it, but I suppose, that’s the point. But I knew and now after my first visit know well after a recommendation from a friend who suggested perhaps I will find something to appeal to my restless and adventurous spirit.

He was right, I did, my spirit was very much adventured during my last experience which was both a revelation and memorable: not unlike sugar, incredibly addictive.

I was in danger of becoming a regular to this room, Room 9, the same as my last visit. There were its two waist-height round holes in a wall next to which was a third much larger rectangular one. I learned last time this is the wall beyond which there were men, lots of them probably, men prepared to poke their bare, naked erections through any open hole, something that became evident really quickly when I first opened mine. This wasn’t the only room either so I definitely wasn’t the only woman, or man, using these cubicles to, shall I say, ‘service’ or offer myself to total and obviously strangers on the other side.

Imagine a blind-date, but with a dark twist. One of the rules of course was you remained on your side, as in me on mine and them on theirs, excluding of course what they popped through the hole. That was the deal to preserve anonymity, which suited me just perfect.

I came equipped again but even more so than last time, plenty of clean wipes and towels and a complete clean change of clothes, just in case, especially after all over me.

This time before venturing to open any holes I stripped off my jumper, white blouse and blue denim shorts remaining in just my black bra and pink knickers, the latter sporting a bit of lace around the bum, for my own benefit really as I knew no one else would see them. But I like the feel and they made me also feel sexy, got me in the mood, not that I needed much encouraging by that stage, feeling a tension between apprehensive and horny.

I eyed the buttons above each hole in the wall, they were lit amber. I knew the drill, press the one above the hole I would be opening. The button then turned green and automatically opened the hole. I guessed that it activated a signal on the other side informing of my status, as the laminated instructions poster put it, “open for business”. Such a quaint way to put it, I thought.

So what would I call those beyond the wall: punters? Clientelle?

I readied myself on my knees, on a cushion facing one hole, took a deep breath and pressed the button: it turned green. Too late, I was now committed once again. Maybe I should be literally committed for doing this, but well, like I say, I couldn’t resist.

No sooner had I pressed it and a most enormous bare cock slipped through, not yet fully erect but already substantially long, I wrapped my fingers around it and felt it twitching, felt its veins, almost watched them pumping blood into it as it grew thicker before my eyes. I was fascinated and started wanking it until it was very upright with its foreskin pulled back and tight. I slipped my lips over it immediately tasting precum, slightly salty, and always took a minute to acclimatise to it again. I licked it like an ice lolly and then began to suck it deep into my mouthy, feeling it poking against my cheeks on the inside, slide along my tongue. Now I had to taste and the rhythm, and so did he as he moved it in and out and I heard faint groans emanating through the wall.

I hope my skills in this area were improving, though there’s not exactly feedback forms to check afterwards. Now, wouldn’t that be weird. Not the kind of thing you’d find on TripAdvisor.

For my first of the afternoon he lasted ages, longer than most, and then he cum, big time. I caught most of it in my mouth, some trickling down my throat though I hadn’t intended too. There was a lot of it too, some of which dribbled down my chin and onto the floor. I sucked and sucked until I was sure there was none left come out once he retracted, which he did after a minute. I pressed the light to amber again and spat out the rest into the sink. I do confess though I didn’t mind that I swallowed some, in fact, now the first is done I might be tempted to swallow properly more.

I wiped my face and hands, rinsed with mouthwash and was back on my knees within minutes pressing the button and in came another cock, thick, with quite an angle to the left. I grabbed it and immediately wrapped my mouth around it, having decided now to just go for it, to enjoy my hour and a half. I felt with everyone I was getting better. I hope they thought so too. As I sucked him I slipped my hand between my legs and rubbed myself soon finding my fingers inside my knickers and teasing my clit, smearing my own excitement over it. It did make me suck him harder, sometimes too enthusiastically as he kept slipping out. He came after a shorter time than the first guy and I swallowed pretty much all of it. It was easier too and not tasting it as much when it shot pretty much straight down my throat.

I have read somewhere that semen is healthy to swallow, containing such things as citric acid, free amino acids, fructose, enzymes, even trace elements including potassium, zinc and sodium, and traces of vitamin B-12. It’s also said to elevate your mood, even act as an antidepressant. Well, it was certainly lifting my mood so I swallowed it all fingering my clit as I did so.

His cock slipped away and was gone. Button pressed, hole closed, I rinsed my mouth, washed my hands and had some bottled water. Well, I thought, if I do more of these I will be brim-full with healthy vitamins and minerals.

So, if that wasn’t encouragement enough I was again kneeling, hole opened and in came another, black, very big, in fact, very, very big, and he wasn’t even hard yet. I held it and stared for ages, its shininess, peeled back the foreskin as it twitched like the others and started to expand like a someone was pumping air into it. It throbbed and moved in my fingers as I moved them up and down for a bit, feeling it, mesmerised, wanting to lick the drip that appeared on its tip.

I did, then another and another, smearing its thick head which just got thicker, so much so I was worried it would burst. It looked almost not part of a person, such was its size. It became quite surreal, seeing just cocks, it could well have been an alien attached to it for all I knew.

I took it in my mouth and let it freely move. This time I held it just with my lips and slide both my hands down my knickers and touched myself harder, slipping a finger in me as I sucked him in, sometimes it even touched my tonsils. He was far too big to get it all into my mouth without deep-throating which I wasn’t going to risk. I masturbated, pulling down the front of my pink knickers, knees apart now, willing myself to cum, to cum while his cock moved in and out. I felt my body shaking with the anticipation, while his cock had grown so big there was more of it outside my mouth than in. My orgasm burst before I was ready, it sometimes did that to me, turnikng my hips to jelly. I gripped his cock in my mouth returning a hand to hold it, grinding it along my teeth, at which I heard a very load groan from the wall and felt he was about to ejaculate.

He did. Still, it took me by surprise. I didn’t know where to put my attention, in the aftermath of my own orgasm or in trying to swallow as much of him as possible. I gulped and almost choked, trying not to fall backwards as there’d be a huge mess if I did as more semen kept flooding into my throat.

I was about to collapse, luckily, he retracted through the hole and I quickly pressed the button back to amber. I did collapse, swallowing as I did, feeling hot, flushed all over, one hand still inside my knickers reassuring myself all was good. It was, all was very good.

Several minutes passed before I composed myself enough to reach for the sink. The usual routine, after which I sat on the couch that was positioned next to the rectangular hole. My breathing was finally returning to normal. I looked in the mirror, strands of my hair stuck to my face, with sweat, not cum; hardly surprising. I fanned myself, face and thighs. 

I ate half a sandwich, I was famished, despite the plentiful salty goodness I’d already had. I looked down at the bench I sat on, and at the larger hole which also had an amber-lit button above. I wondered what would happen if I tried this next instead, the instruction poster on the wall, also laminated, made it clear how too. I was sorely tempted, just to see, being my second visit and all. What if I didn’t come here again, I’d never know.

The poster said the couch extended through the wall. I decided to go for it. I swung my legs up and adjusted a pillow for my head, reached up, pressed the button which turned green and open what was more a hatch than just a hole like the others, and slipped through on its black vinyl covering. I was only to put my legs and hips through it, nothing else. I did and felt the support of the rest of the couch on the other side.

As there was nothing to say otherwise on the instructions, I kept my knickers on. I noticed there was a grab-rail on the wall behind me instinctively held: if nothing else I would use it to pull myself back through at any time.

I lay there with my knees up and held together now out of sight beyond the hatch, and it wasn’t long before I felt hands on my ankles which moved up my calves and then over my knees. It felt so peculiar, like wearing a blindfold but not. My knees were being eased apart and I just went with it, nervously. Fingers moved down the inside of my thighs until they reached my knickers then over them too, poking, stroking, lingering, teasing me and actually making me excited. I held onto the rail and realised I was biting my bottom lip.

The hand began rubbing my knickers firmly enough to push them into the lips of my sex. I knew I was wet. The action became more vigorous, up and down and over my clit. I was excited, trembling, even moaning a little I closed my eyes imagining hi face, what did he look like? Suddenly, my knickers were edged to the side at which I almost pulled myself back in.

Too late, I didn’t and knew I was exposed much more intimately now than I was as two fingers slipped inside me, as though keeping me there. They moved in and out, turned and twisted, making my hips contort inside. I was so wet now and whoever it was knew it.

I was now lost to the motion of his touch, being fingered by a stranger, as I was also to him, his eyes I knew had full view of bare sex wide open, on show. Then I felt something else, not fingers, no, the head of his cock was pushing in while his fingers spread my folds and before my next breath he was in, slipping several inches, pulling out then in again, more inches, out then in again. I could have pulled away but instead I gripped the rail and felt every thrust of his hips into mine, keeping me wide open, knees high, feeling him thrusting deeper, throbbing inside, his strangers cock.

I couldn’t object, this is what I came for, I knew it, I accepted the terms, took my chance and now here I was being fucked through a wall and it felt, well, incredible, an indescribable thrill, rush of blood to the pleasure-centres. My entire body shook each time he pushed, his fingers gripping my hips, pushing again and again for minutes on end.

I knew I was close again to an orgasm.

I began to feel faint, my hips ached, my stomach tightened and I couldn’t hold it back any more and broke. Just as I did he began to fuck me faster until I again heard a grunt, a struggle for breath as his cock froze buried inside me and cum, twitching, a releasing of fresh semen.

I didn’t move, neither did he right away. Eventually, he pulled out and I felt a slick stickiness. I pulled myself back through the hatch and went amber, closing it. I got my breath and looked down, realising the stickiness was just sweat and mostly my own juices as he’d worn a condom. Perhaps it’s a condition here. The thought went through my mind that, actually, I wouldn’t have minded if he hadn’t.

Still, I had plenty to clean up, not to mention a change of knickers, having decided that was enough for one day. Although, I still felt horny, but my time was nearly up. I knew, though, there and then I was coming back, soon. How could I not, from where else am I going to get such a healthy cocktail of supplements.

© Emmaleela

4 Comments

  1. Oh this was suuuuch a hot read! 🔥🍆💦 I thoroughly enjoyed your recap of the second experience. Your experience with the third cock was extra juicy. I’m feeling inspired to create some digital art of place like this and with a deliciously decadent scene like you have described. If I do, I’ll be sure to link back to your story as the erotic inspiration 💫

    Liked by 1 person

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