Cecelia glanced nervously over at the neighboring booth, still empty. She had a few more minutes. Standing up, a little unsure of the cleanliness of the bench not wanting to sit down, she began to pleasure herself. Slowly, over her tights. Pressing her fingers into her clit. The layers of cloth muting the intensity of the touch. The sounds of the video, her growing arousal filling the tiny booth. Her hands exploring her body, the sounds of the porn filling her ears. It felt so good, so naughty. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this exposed and dirty. Unzipping her hoodie, cursing to herself that her bra was limiting access to her nipples. It felt extra naughty to reach back, unclasping it. Shimming out while not taking off her shirt, she now had access to her stiffening and sensitive nipples. Carefully putting her bra down on the part of the bench furthest from the video screen, that seemed the cleanest option. Cecelia now turned her full attention to the threesome on the wall.
The white man was fucking the woman doggy style, his impossibly thick cock disappearing in and out of her as she moaned. The muscled BBC filled her face. It was more than Cecelia could have imagined it would be. The first man’s cock, the woman’s body, pushing her onto the second cock. It was all so hot. She could smell her own arousal, the wetness between her legs, the tension building inside her. The porn only heightened it all. She bit her bottom lip, harder as the pleasure built up. Her hips began to move in time with the video, her fingers finding their rhythm. One hand on her crotch, the other under her shirt pulling one nipple, then the other. The man on the screen slammed into the woman, his grunts filling the room. Cecelia arched her back, gripping her breast tightly, her own orgasm about to crash over her in a wave of pleasure.
And then, she heard a noise. A soft click from the next booth. A shuffling, the sound of cloth. She froze, her body tense, her breath caught in her throat. Her orgasm was forgotten, the pleasure ebbing away as fear and panic filled her. She glanced nervously over at the door, making sure she has pushed the lock closed. Expecting a cock to come blaring through, nothing happened. Nothing happened? “Safe for now” she thought to herself. From the booth next door the faint glow of the video starting, wet recorded sounds spilling into her booth. Cautiously, standing back slightly, She peeks through the hole. Eyes popped wide. Ass, not dick was what she was seeing. Her new neighbor was facing away from her booth and was pressed against the far wall. That’s when Cecelia realized that her end booth only had the one hole, but the middle booths have them on both sides. “He must be getting his dick sucked” she thought.
Spying excited her again. Reaching down, under her leggings, her fingers finding her wet slickness. The man started to moan, his hips thrusting against the wall. Cecelia held her bottom lip, the urge to cum building again. “No! Not yet. I need to see him finish first”. The man started to groan and suddenly stopped moving. Hold himself to the wall. Letting out a loud moaning sigh he pulled away. In his post nut clarity he pulled up his pants incredibly fast and exited the booth, porn still blaring away, Cecelia didn’t even have time to react. Just like that he was gone.
“Fuck that was hot though”. Leaning back from the hole, finally sitting on the bench. She pulls up her shirt, airing out her heavy mature breasts.The leggings now impeding the furious fucking she was wanting her fingers to perform. Pulling them down only half way wasn’t enough, that only bound her legs together. Clumsily working them off without taking off her shoes was a trick, but in the end she was sitting on them, providing some amount of protection from the painted wooden bench top. Legs spread, shirt pulled up, hoodie still on. The smell of her dripping pussy filled the small space. I reeked of sex. The trio on her screen was now in DP, the woman sandwiched between the two studs. Three fingers deeply massaging Cecelia’s inner self.
Cecelia moaned, rocking her hips, imagining it was the big cocks she was feeling. She could feel herself getting close again, the tension building back. The pleasure she had felt from pussy and nipples was intense, like nothing she had ever experienced. She sucked on her lip, imagining it was one of their cocks between her teeth. Her fingers moved faster, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The pleasure was almost unbearable. It felt so good to be so lascivious.
She glanced over at the next booth. Certain it was occupied once again. Peering into it, this new person was once again on the other side of the booth, but not facing away this time. She could only see from mid torso to just above the knee. His cock proudly sticking out. It wasn’t one of the porn monsters on her screen, it was very very nice though. Hard. Erect. Proud. A hand was coming though the opposing hole, jerking off this proud cock while its owner watched porn.
The time had gone by quickly. Cecelia’s video shut off again. The overhead lights dimly turning on. “Fuck!” She muttered to herself. Here she was dressed like Winnie the Poo, ass out. Quickly fumbling to put whatever money she had into the machine, to return to where she was. Looking back through the hole, the scene had changed. Mr Proud Cock had come closer. To the hole at her booth.
Cecelia felt herself blushing, a shiver running down her spine. She had seen cock before, but this one was different. Weighty. New. Not her husbands. And it was right there, in front of her. She could touch it. She could touch it! Realizing from what she had just witnessed, she could be safe. She didn’t have suck or fuck this cock. This hole. It gave her control. It was facing her now.This thick strange cock. This cock that did not belong to her husband. She didn’t know it, it didn’t know her. Reaching through the hole, heart racing, beating so hard it was all she could hear. She took a hold of it.
The feeling of his smooth skin in her hand was foreign, erotic. She squeezed him, felt him grow harder in her grip. Mr. Proud Cock was moaning, her hand moving faster, his hips lightly thrusting. She could feel the heat coming off his cock, the weight in her hand. It felt so much larger than her husband’s. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like inside her. Her free hand went to her own breast, squeezing and pinching her nipple, adding to her pleasure.
The moans and groans from the videos of other booths filled the halls, but they were background noise now. It was just her and Mr. Proud Cock. Her hoodie slipped down her shoulder, she withdrew her hand. It was so hot in her small room. Sliding hoodie off onto the floor. Wearing just her shirt and sneakers now. Bringing the hoodie to the hole, cushions for her knees. Making a snap decision, she pulled her shirt over her head. Now nude in her own world. Kneeling, her large mature ass not quite touching the floor, her heaving breasts perilously close to touching the wall. Mr. Proud Cock had come closer. Leaking pre-cum onto her fingers, she pulled him into her booth. Or the only part of him she cared about anyway. Reaching down between her legs, she scooped, yes scooped there was so much, of the slick mucousy lubrication. Bringing it to this cock.
Her hand moved so freely now. Quickly. Spitting on it, making wetter. Cecelia lifted her breasts, the cock lubed more than enough to allow for a friction free working with her tits. The man on the other side moaned. Did he realize yet that it was a woman? Grunted, and knocked on the wall. “Knocking? Does he want to come in?” Then it happened. He shot his cum. So much cum. All over her breasts and neck. Thickly running down.
She couldn’t help but moan. It was so hot. So thick. Her nipples were so hard. It felt so good. She could feel it dripping down between her breasts. Her pussy, drenched from her own juices, throbbed. Her husband was so far away. And she could feel his wetness on her fingers. More cum. Her pussy twitched, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She was so close. She brought her fingers to her lips, tasting the man. Tasting him. She licked his cum off her fingers, relishing the taste.
Mr. Proud Cock left. Still kneeling at the hole, Cecelia slid her knees apart and began to masturbate with her cum free hand hard, fast wet. The orgasm hit like a ton of bricks, her whole body shuddering as she came, spilling her juices all over her thighs and onto her hoodie. She collapsed forward catching herself on the hole, gasping for breath and trying to slow her racing heart. The wetness of her own cum and the residue of the stranger’s were a reminder of what she had just done, and she felt both ashamed and incredibly aroused.
As she lay there, spent and panting, she tried to convince herself that it was just a moment of weakness, a lapse in judgment. She would tell her husband about it later, and he would understand. He would forgive her. He always did. But deep down, she knew that this was more than just a mistake. It was a desire that she had kept hidden for far too long, and now it was out, burning bright.
Getting dressed as best she could. Using the paper towels what clean parts of the hoodie she could identify in the dark to wipe herself off with. “Well that’s ruined” she thought to herself. Wading up her bra and panties in the hoodie, the video turning off just as she reached for the door. Quickly making her way out into the bright lights of the store. Thankful that she hadn’t passed another soul on the way out to her car. Tossing the wad of soiled clothing into the trunk, it was barely 1pm. Plenty of time to get home.
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