This is the first half of a complete story. Read the full story on Amazon, by Cineman Bunn
amazon.com/dp/B08PZCBG1Y
Just three minutes to go.
Harri’s computer time confirmed the hopeful news the office clock had already told her. She put her coffee cup to her lips—her “blowjob lips”, as Patricia often joked—and sank the final grainy dregs. She dared to stare at her computer once more, seeing little more than a vague collection of numbers and graphs that began to blur as they always did at this time in the afternoon. She leaned back in her chair with a sigh, letting her half-closed eyes drift over the office partition. The words “suck it up” had been etched into the corner of the cubicle—her little reminder that the bores of an analyst were usually worth the pay. Usually.
“Gearing up for the weekend, Clark?”
Harri almost fell off her seat as Mr Gordon’s thunderous voice hit her from behind. She turned in her chair to glance up at the large man above her—a pair of powerful, pale blue eyes making her feel even smaller in her seat. The pepper-salt business manager wore one eyebrow up, studying the young analyst with a hint of humour in his moustache.
“No, Mr Gordon. Just taking a moment to consider the forecast analytics.” Harri forced a slight smile, trying not to let her tiredness show too much.
The boss studied her for a moment longer. “Of course,” he finally said, placing one of his huge hands on Harri’s shoulder. “Now, Miss Harriet Clark, before you disappear, I was hoping you could do me a favour this weekend.”
“Uhh, yes Mr Gordon? What is it?”
The bigger man edged his way further into the cubicle, his broad shoulders taking up half the wall space.
“I was hoping you could come in tomorrow to finish off the Smart-Tec paperwork from Wednesday’s consultation. We’re up to our necks in it with Susan having left, and I could really use a hand getting things nailed down before Monday.”
A pained groan resounded in Harriet’s head, exploring different excuses before Mr Gordon had even finished his sentence.
“Could I count on you, Harri?”
Harri put on her best ‘hands tied’ face. “Uhh, actually this weekend isn’t great for me, Mr Gordon. I already committed to plans for Saturday, and I don’t think I’d be able to get out of it at short notice… Sorry.”
Mr Gordon’s eyes gave a twitch of disappointment, continuing to study Harri from above as he usually did. Harri sat below him with a shrug on her face, hoping her boss couldn’t read minds. Her ‘plans for Saturday’ consisted of nursing a hangover with a big bag of salted chips. Patricia, her girlfriend, had organised drinks for later on tonight, and no doubt she’d have many a tequila shoved down her throat. Saturday overtime would be hell.
Mr Gordon gave an understanding tip of his head. “Alright, Clark. Enjoy your weekend. I’ll see you on Monday.” He clapped Harri on the shoulder with another bear paw, complementing his leave with a patriarchal wink.
Harri sighed and ran a hand through her wavy brown hair. She opened her laptop case, beginning the process of packing up her things while thinking in relief about how she had just narrowly escaped a painful few hours with The Walrus—a nickname aptly given for both Mr Gordon’s classy moustache and his fondness for The Beatles.
It wasn’t that Harri disliked Mr Gordon; in truth he was about as good as any boss could be. But still, he was her boss, and Harri wouldn’t maintain workplace professionalism for a second longer than she had to.
Patricia pulled opened the door with her usual flair, her cheeks already as rosy as her favourite salmon top.
“Well helloooo,” she sang, dancing into a hug with a bottle of schnapps in hand.
“You’re looking pretty jolly already,” Harri commented with a grin. Patricia bowed, continuing her little jig before taking up Harri’s wrist and pulling her inside.
“Jollier than you, mi amiga,” she winked. “Now stop diddling about and let’s get some tequila in you.”
By the time the clock struck midnight, Patricia’s group of five were thoroughly drunk and squished into the back of a taxi headed for town. Harri and Patricia were sandwiched between Milly and Jess, who were both lean enough to only take up half a seat each, with Stacy in the front next to the driver. Harri herself wasn’t usually a big drinker; but as usual, a drunk Patricia had talked her into coming to town—this time to her favourite bar: Little Kitten.
The line for entry was long as it always was on a Friday night, and they had to wait a good twenty minutes queuing before the bouncer finally let them inside. Down the stairs to a basement dancefloor, the place was packed. Strobe lights and stripper poles were both being put to maximum usage, and Harri couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiastic dancing display for an ear-thumping Livin’ La Vida Loca. It wasn’t Harri’s first time here, but it was never her first pick of bar. The men were always aggressively sexual, and it had become a common occurrence for her “pinchable buttocks” to be grabbed or slapped when she moved through the crowd. Still, there was usually an abundance of single men at the Kitten; and though Harri would rarely bring one home, she still enjoyed a little male attention every now and then.
The night went quickly. Much tequilas and schnapps; much dancing; much banter and laughing. Patricia was high in spirits as she was high on them; and with her generosity of shots, Harri had reached a plateau where she would find herself wandering the dancefloor in a euphoric stupor, beginning even to enjoy the male attention she was receiving, getting checked out in regular, not-so-subtle glances. Though she wasn’t particularly attracted to macho guys, she had found it to be a hot thrill when she was grabbed by a stranger. Ever since she was a teenager, she had always appreciated the look of a well-formed dick, and she’d even sucked a couple guys off in bar toilets in the past. Still, she was reluctant to admit that to anyone, even herself, that she had any slutty tendencies. She usually rolled her eyes and resisted half-heartedly when Patricia declared she would be dragging her back to the bar for their Friday night shenanigans; and though the first time seemed a bit awkward and scary, she’d come to like Little Kitten. She had even wondered if she could risk a hot night of promiscuity without her cover being blown. Maybe if someone decent made a move on her, she might…
“Hey there, pumpkin,” came a familiar voice in her ear. “Where have you been hiding?”
Patricia draped an arm around her shoulder, her breath pleasantly peach-flavoured from all the schnapps she had been inhaling.
“You know me,” Harri shouted back over the music. “Been tied to the dancefloor with a bungee cord.”
“You sly little mongoose you. Whose sausage have you been chasing?”
“No one!” Harri replied honestly. “The music is my lover tonight.”
Patricia threw her head back for a brief hoot of laughter that was lost in the music. “Well I…” came Patricia’s breath again in Harri’s ear, waving her cup in her face. “…am going to introduce you to a lovely specimen I spotted from across the bar.”
Harri turned to eye her curiously.
“You might even know him,” her friend continued, and Harri’s curiosity turned into a narrow-eyed confusion. Patricia took Harri’s chin in her hand, stroking her “virgin-soft cheeks”, as Patricia loved to say. “His name is Tequila, my darling. He’s waiting at the bar for us.”
Harri rolled her eyes with a laugh, shoving Patricia playfully in the arm.
“Alright, but I’m gonna go for a pee first.”
“Nuh uh,” said Patricia, pulling her by the arm. “Peeing can wait. Tequila now, pee later. Come.”
Tequila spilt over her bottom lip, and she wiped it off with the back of her hand.
“Gross,” Harri protested, stuffing lime flesh between her teeth. She let her tongue wipe the residue from her lips as she watched Patricia shiver.
She turned and placed her back against the bar, gazing loosely over the crowd. A tall model-faced blond walked past, giving Harri a look that was unmistakably licentious, and Harri’s mind snapped to a fantasy of feeling his naked abs, submitting to having the guy’s big dick sliding into her mouth…
Harri shook her head. ‘What is wrong with me?’ she thought. Her face flushed hot as the model guy disappeared into the crowd, and she turned back to the bar where Patricia already had another two shot glasses ready to go.
Harri pushed through the crowd towards the toilets, past a couple of denim-clad gentlemen who took particular notice in the tightness of her jeans. Her “perky lil’ booty”, Patricia had told her, would be her greatest asset in the club—and apparently her key to free drinks. Harri returned them a shy smile and kept moving until she found the Women’s. The line had backed up a good five metres out the bathroom door, and was likely not going to move quickly at this time of night. By now Harri was busting, and squeezed her thighs together as she weighed her options. The Men’s, in comparison, had no one coming out the door, and strangely didn’t seem to be busy at all. Sidling up to the big black bathroom door, she gave one last look around her before leaning hard against it. To Harri’s surprise, it gave way much easier than expected, and rendered her stumbling into the room.
Surprisingly, the room was empty, except for one man busying himself at the urinal. The bathroom was still neat and remarkably clean for a Friday night, and Harri swayed loosely down, past the unknowning man, to the very last stall of the toilet cubicles.
Closing the door behind her, she flicked the toilet seat down with a bang and sat herself upon it. As she finished, she heard the stall next door close with a click of the lock. Not thinking much of it, she wiped, flushed and stood with a zip of her jeans. As she turned to leave, she heard a knock from the stall next door. Three double knocks, like horse hooves on the wall. Smiling in a surprised amusement, Harri shrugged and repeated the knock back. As she studied the wall, she noticed—around waist height—a small hole one might be able to squeeze a baseball through. Beside the hole, in black marker writing, read three words: “suck it up”.
Harri allowed a quiet giggle to herself, which quickly turned to a gasp as a huge dick and ballsack inserted itself through the hole from the other side. Harri almost choked in astonishment. She hadn’t been expecting that, and didn’t quite know how to react. She glanced up to the ceiling, listening for other people, then looked back at the dick. It was a big hunk of meat, semi-hard, with a beautiful oily complexion like it had been especially tanned and moisturised. Beneath it, a neatly trimmed set of balls, tucked up into a package that looked like it had been photoshopped before her eyes. Harri’s heart began to pound; and she felt hot, like she was flushed with embarrassment. Not knowing what else to do, she figured she needed time to evaluate the situation. Did the guy know she was a she? Was she seen coming in? Did it even matter?
Then she stared at it again.
The dick was beautiful. Thick and long, too. A piece to be desired. Harri licked her lips, weighing the situation. She had seen glory holes a few times before in the movies, but never one in real life, and certainly not one with a dick hanging out of it.
The dick was deflating with lack of stimulation, drooping its chin incrementally like the hand of a clock, till it was almost touching the wall. Harri took a step towards the toilet and put the lid down, then turned around and sat on it with her pants still on. The dick was around head height now, and looked even bigger when so close to her eyes. She licked her lips again, her breathing still quick and shallow. Her eyes were big; her mouth ajar. She leaned forward till it was less than a foot from her face, and reached out her hand. Her painted fingers hovered mere millimetres away, still unsure if she should proceed. Slowly her nervousness turned to excitement; her reluctance to horniness; and she felt a wetness between her legs as her fascination grew with the big bronzed dick. Gently, her fingers wrapped around the shaft. It was dense but soft, slightly oily as she had anticipated, and warm with life. A rush of excitement spiked in Harri, and she took her time jerking it slowly in front of her face, her eyes goggling as it began to stiffen again. Soon the member was standing straight out again, glistening in the bathroom lights.
She read the words again. “Suck it up,” she whispered to herself, and without a moment’s hesitation more, closed her eyes and slipped it into her mouth.
The tip was bulbous, and smooth on her tongue. The girthy sausage was difficult to fit into her mouth without her teeth dragging on it, but she put it in as deep as she could go, focusing on every ridge, ripple and vein. She knew the taste of cock, and found it surprisingly good. It drove her on, and she dared taking it deeper as the horniness welled in her. She pushed it in and out, slowly suckling on the beastly cock. Her tongue licked underneath, then swirled around the tip like she had seen people do on the Internet. She realised drunkenly that her mouth movements were kind of like a beautiful artform, and she alternated between different techniques, different speeds, different sucking pressures. The dick was growing even bigger and harder in her mouth, and she fucking loved it. She squirmed a bit as her pussy ached for touch. She pulled the dick out of her mouth, finally opening her eyes as she gasped breathlessly at the glistening member. A line of spittle ran like a spiderweb from the dick to her lips, and she grabbed the stranger’s beautiful meat with both hands, pumping it double-handed in front of her face as she admired it like a lover. Lifting up the heavy, cannon-like dong, her mouth made a bee-line for the balls underneath. Her tongue pounced on them, lapping up the slight salty flavour in a vigorous rhythm, and then engulfed them in one. She suckled gently on one of the balls, spending her sweet time wetting it before she moved onto the other. She gargled them, licked at them, rubbed them in her face, then rubbed the entire length of the still-hard dick across her cheek until it pointed once again at her lips.
Not breaking her trance for a moment, she pushed her spare hand down into her jeans, as wet as she’d ever been, and rubbed herself through her cotton underpants as she sucked extra hard. Aching for more, she pushed the cotton aside with her fingers and found her slippery folds, admiring the specimen in front of her as she pushed a finger inside her wet pussy. She slipped the tip of the dick past her lips again, jerking it slowly with her free hand at the same rate as she was fingering herself. She kept her lips tight, milking it as her tongue grinded down the underside. Moaning with it in her mouth, she went faster and faster without losing technique. Her tongue felt a slippery goo at the dickhole, and she lapped it up, swallowing it ravenously. She didn’t know if it had been minutes or hours as she sucked this dream cock, and moaned feverishly as the dick began to thrust into her mouth from the other side. Deep, muffled moans could be heard from the other side, and Harri upped her speed. Soon a deep groan echoed up over the stall, and the dick began to pulse in her mouth. Harri clamped down with her lips, sucking hard as spurt after spurt of hot cum flooded her mouth in thick wads, shooting into the back of her throat. Coming close to choking on all the cum she was taking, Harri swallowed it down and kept on milking. To Harri’s surprise, the cum kept coming, and she had to swallow several times before the throbbing began to subside.
Once she had swallowed every last drop, she cleaned the dick off with her tongue and let the softening member fall out of her mouth. Harri sat back on her knees, panting as the glistening serpent hung there, not a drop of cum left on it. She didn’t even realise at what point she had shifted from the toilet to the floor, but she didn’t really care—it had all been so fucking hot.
After half a minute the dick disappeared back through the hole. Harri was sad to see it go; but she smiled to himself, licking the residual taste from her lips.
The sound of a zipper could be heard through the hole, and moments later a hard black shape appeared at the hole. It was a Blackberry phone, sporting a slight crack in the upper corner—and when Harri looked closer it had a message on the screen.
“Next Friday. Here at midnight. Knock to confirm.”
Harri smiled, biting her lip in excitement at the prospect of round two. She did the horse-hoof knock—three double knocks, like she had heard earlier.
The phone soon appeared at the hole again with a new message:
“Wait here for 2 minutes. See you next Friday.” It had a winky face after the message, and Harri gave another single knock as confirmation. She then heard the door open and footsteps disappear out the door. She took a seat on the toilet and waited for two minutes, then went out to find Patricia.
Much of the next week at work was spent daydreaming. Harri would entertain herself repetitively with the memory of what had happened in the bathroom cubicle, and fantasised about what would happen at the end of the week when she would meet her well-hung stranger friend for another hot session. She was almost caught several times by her colleagues as she rubbed her wet crotch under the desk.
Usually her work fantasies revolved around Brian, the buff delivery boy. He was cute and quiet, and she had fingered herself in the toilets over him at least a dozen times. But now, something else had taken her. Some other desperate fever that plagued her mind with dirty, nasty thoughts. Dicks shouldn’t even be that perfect, she thought to herself. And she wasn’t sure if Patricia would be shocked, approving, or envious—if she found out, which she wouldn’t.
By the time Friday rolled around again, Harri had strongly considered telling Patricia. She wanted to tell someone about her experience, to say it out loud, to admit to someone that she loved sucking that cock. Patricia would surely understand; but Patricia was a blabbermouth, and her naughty little secret would spread like wildfire within the week. Besides, what if Patricia decided to take the cubicle for herself? She couldn’t risk it.
Near closing time on Friday, still stuck at work with wet panties, Harri’s fantasies were interrupted once again by the sudden voice of Mr Gordon.
“Oh, hi Mr Gordon,” said a startled, blushing Harri, trying her best to not expose the wet patch on her work pants.
Mr Gordon looked sombre today, much less amiable than usual. He had let a bit of stubble grow around his jawline, yet it somehow made him look younger; and had she not known, Harri wouldn’t have guessed that the big man was in his early fifties.
“Harri my girl, I hate to do this,” he said, almost in a grumble, “but I need you to come in tomorrow for some overtime. We’re slammed with paperwork, and you’ve been a bit behind on your workload this week.”
Harri gritted her teeth in her mouth, knowing it was the truth. She had been so caught up in fantasies about a magic cock that she had fallen behind schedule—significantly.
She sighed. “Sorry, Mr Gordon. Had a big load on my mind this week.” She fought back a smile, realising what she had just said. “I’ll come tomorrow… Though would it be able to be in the afternoon? I’m expecting… I’m expecting kind of a late night tonight.”
Mr Gordon raised the corner of his mouth in contemplation, taking his moustache with it. “Alright,” he finally said. “How does midday sound?”
This Friday, Patricia had decided—beyond all rhyme and reason—that she wouldn’t be drinking that particular evening. Although unusual to the point of suspicion, it actually worked for Harri, as she didn’t want to get to the club too late and miss her appointment with the mysterious glory-hole stranger. This time, she decided, she would go by herself.
The prospect of going to a bar alone seemed daunting, so she drained a couple of wines for some Dutch courage before making her way there.
She had decided that she would get there an hour early, just in case, and get herself into the mood of the club before the real party started. Fortunately the queue was a little shorter at this earlier hour, yet Harri still remained nervous lest someone see her queuing by herself to enter Little Kitten.
Inside, the party was cranking. Playing it cool, Harri made her way through the crowd to the bar, and ordered two tequilas and another wine. She thought of Patricia as she downed the shots, giving her a mental toast, and then sat with her wine with her back to the bar, scanning the room for who this mystery dick might belong to. If the guy was proportional to his dick size, Harri figured the guy would be at least six-foot, somewhat tanned, and macho in style. That counted out almost everyone in the room, and her ***********ion of suspects was reduced to a chubby dreadlocked guy, a strange-looking skinny guy, and a tall biker guy in the corner. None of them seemed particularly attractive, but her gut told her that none of them were her guy.
But the night was still warming up, and over the next half hour she had begun to get into the groove of the club. Two more wines, three tequilas and a schnapps later, she was tapping her foot to the music and feeling much more relaxed. She began thinking of her task ahead. Would it be similar to last time? Was she being set up? What if she sees the guy and he’s ugly? Maybe he’d even come into the stall and want to fuck her. Would she want that? Was she going to get fucked in the Men’s bathroom tonight?
Harri knocked back her wine. She would have time for one more if she drank quickly, but maybe she would settle for another tequila shot and get in there early—just in case.
Taking her tequila, she sucked on a lime and dismounted her bar stool. Walking through the crowd, she realised she was drunker than she thought she was. She bumped into several people, eyeing everyone as she passed them. Was it him? Could it be that guy? Everyone was a potential suspect. She didn’t discount the possibility that even a small guy could have a big dick like that, and she smiled shyly at a handsome jacketed guy who looked to be straight.
Inside the Men’s, the music was thumping through the walls as per usual. There was a trans at the urinal, and only the cubicle closest the door was occupied. She teetered past them all, slipping into the final cubicle and locking the door behind her, then put down the toilet lid and took up her perch as she waited. She looked at her phone. Two minutes to midnight. She took a deep breath, recognising a hint of nervousness fluttering in her stomach, then smiled to herself and visualised what might come through the hole. With a gentle finger she traced the outline of the hole, feeling the tape that had been used to keep the portal edges smooth and comfortable, eyeing the three words she had become so familiar with.
Suck it up.
“Yes sir,” she whispered to herself.
Just then, there came an elevated pulse of music as the bathroom door opened, with footsteps that led closer and closer, and eventually went into the cubicle next door. Harri’s heart began to pound as she heard the door lock, and soon after came the knock. Three double raps on the wall. It was him.
Harri tried to control her excitement as she knocked back, replicating the pattern. She listened intently, catching a flash of a pair of black pants with the G of a Gucci belt. Then there came the sound of a zipper, and seconds later the very sight Harri had been waiting to see all week.
Just as glorious as last Friday, the dick was big, thick, and tanned. It looked so invitingly soft to the touch, and this time Harri didn’t hesitate in taking it in both her hands. Easing herself down onto her knees, she looked up lovingly at the majestic specimen. She rubbed its flesh against her cheek, breathing it in, and began kissing it all over. This time, she began with the balls. Taking them gently into her mouth, she suckled on them for a good few minutes, then licked up the length of the shaft until she got to the tip. She let out a quiet moan at the sight of it, then closed her eyes and slid it into her mouth. The taste was now her favourite, and she gulped at it slowly, savouring every moment. She loved the feeling of the dick hardening in her mouth, and spent long moments exploring the shape and textures. The smooth bulb, the long and thick shaft, the veins… It was just as perfect as she remembered, and she had even tried doing a little twist technique she had seen on the Internet, rotating it as she jerked it into her mouth. She could hear some faint groans from the other side of the wall, and smiled at the thought that she was pleasing his mystery man. She wondered if she should open the door and go around to meet him. Maybe she could look up into his eyes as she sucked his dick, or even let the guy fuck her against the wall…
Imagining several scenes in her head, she worked at the big dick feverishly, salivating all over the big meaty rod and sucking it deep into the back of her throat. She could take it deeper this time, and it seemed her new techniques had not gone unnoticed. In less than ten minutes she heard the groans building to a crescendo, and prepared herself for the payload. Coming to a climax, the guy pulled the dick slightly away from the hole and thrust it back through, fucking deep into Harri’s mouth with a desire that was truly palpable. Harri tightened her lips around the thick cock, increasing her suction and grinding her tongue hard against the pleasure spots. Her grip tightened, her jerking quickened, and within moments came an unleash of guttural moans with a huge load of hot cum squirting into the back of her throat. Harri moaned herself, milking it firmly as she gulped down load after load. The orgasm again lasted a long time. The cum kept coming and Harri kept on swallowing. When it was done, she fell back against the wall with a breathless giggle. The glistening dick wobbled there for a moment, a small strand of cummy saliva dangling from the drooping tip. Harri watched it, letting the image sink into her memory.
Soon enough, the member disappeared through the hole and a phone appeared in its place, this time displaying the contact form for where Harri was surely meant to put her number. Elated that these encounters would continue, and maybe even escalate, Harri grabbed the phone and typed in her digits, writing her name in as ‘Friendly neighbour’. She then passed the phone back through the hole, sat on the toilet lid, and played with herself until her new favourite stranger had left the room.