Untitled chapter 1
Part 1: The Dirty Secret
I’m not here for romance, or even for some cheap thrill I’ll deny in the morning. I’m here because it’s a family gathering and I want to be seen as nothing but a hole. I want to be ruined—used—by family members who I’ll be sat across at the thanksgiving table. Men who are forbidden but leave me dripping and grinning and desperate for more.
“Mel, the bathroom” instructed Dad.
I know exactly what he means. The bathroom.
And that’s all it takes. I leave my drink unfinished, heart pounding, heat thrumming between my legs as I slip away from the table and down the hallway, past the living room with Hone Alone playing innocently on the TV.
The door creaks open, barely enough space to turn around.
See…normal bathrooms wouldn’t be divided, but Dad came up with an ingenious idea that if we added a cubicle we could get away with doing dirty things as if it was anonymous. We have a tradition on our house, there are three sisters and take it in turns to be at the receiving end of the glory hole as if it’s a privilege. Anyway, this year it’s my turn..and my first, so I was slightly apprehensive on what would happen, and more importantly with who.
The hole in the wall is bigger than when I first saw Dad drill it—fist-sized, at mouth height when I kneel. For some reason he’d wrapped tape around the edges, as if that makes it less filthy.
My hands shake with nerves—or is it hunger? I slip off my jacket, drop to my knees. My skirt rides up, bare thighs pressed to the sticky tile, knees already bruising. I pull my hair back, spit in my palm, smear it over my lips. My mouth is ready, wide open, tongue out.
The bathroom door opens behind me. Heavy footsteps. I don’t look up.
The cock that appears through the hole is already hard, thick and angry-red, glistening at the tip. I don’t hesitate. I want this.
I take him in, all the way, deep-throating with practiced ease, ignoring the gag, loving the burn. He groans on the other side, hips jerking, hands slapping the wall in frantic rhythm. I grab his shaft, stroke him hard, slobbering spit and precum down my chin. His balls are pressed to the partition, throbbing with every thrust.
He starts to fuck my face, no hesitation, no attempt at gentleness—just pure, selfish need. My mascara runs, my jaw aches, and I let him use me, the shame making me even wetter. He slams into my throat, choking me, making my eyes water and my nose run.
I moan around him, letting him know I love it, that I’m just a thing for him to use and cum in. He goes wild, groaning, gasping, losing control as he thrusts faster. I can feel him tense, balls tight, cock pulsing in my throat. Then he unloads—hot, thick jets straight down my gullet, choking me, filling my mouth until I’m forced to swallow or drown. I gulp it all down, letting the taste linger, my own hand sliding up my thigh, shoving two fingers deep inside myself.
He pulls out with a shudder, and I’m left kneeling in the filth, cum dripping from my lips, a mess, a hole. And I’ve never felt more alive. “Good girl” he says, you had a lot to live up to…ahh ok so that was Dad, there’s no wonder mom screams so much when they do it.
I glance up, grinning, breathless, my cunt still clenching around my fingers, already desperate for the next cock to fill the gap.
“She’s on form and ready” I hear Dad say..but who will be next?
