Santa’s Baby (Naughtier and Naughtier Book 3)

User 3980. Male. 39.

It’s your time for the glory hole wall.

Can’t wait to get you bound up and ready for it, you kinky bitch. Make sure you’re hungry for it.

Duration: 9 hours.

Proposal Fee: £18,000

The glory hole is another one of my favourite bookings. Nine hours straight of being trussed up and used by whoever wants me. These nine hours are a different league of hardcore than playing kitty and watching gardening shows. These guys always milk it for every fucking second, and I milk them for every fucking second right back. Nine hours of pure sucking and fucking is no easy feat, but that’s why I’m top of the leaderboard. I don’t give a toss if my cheeks hurt for three days straight. They always get prime service.

I wear a cup-less bra in black lace, and stockings and suspenders with no panties. This is a late nighter, so it’s gone 9 p.m. when I get my cab. I wrap myself up in my long leather coat, but it won’t be staying on long. The glory wall is in Chelsea. Some rich millionaire has turned their gothic manor into the ultimate seedy sex den, but it suits the place.

The cab drops me at the bottom of the driveway, and I walk on up in my red gloss stilettos with a sashay of my hips. I give the butler a coy hey and a wink, like usual. I know his smile by now, a half smirk that lights his face up. Only this time, it makes my guts flip.

He’s a silver fox, and he’s got to be in his fifties. He’s nothing like Reuben whatsoever, bar his beard. The trim of it. The shape around his chin. But fucking hell, just that one pathetic parallel is enough to give me a rush.

The bullshit rush makes me giddy when I hand him my coat. He hangs it up like it’s just another day at the glory hole wall, but I have major fucking butterflies. Beard be damned. Stupid comparison.

Reuben, Reuben, Reuben, fucking Reuben. I hate myself for this bullshit. If I didn’t have a whole night of action ahead of me, I’d consider calling my therapist this very second. Consider. Yeah, right. That’ll never happen. I’m lying to myself. I’ll be Reubening myself to death before I make that call.

Me and the butler don’t speak as he leads me to my destination. The glory den is along the hallway and off to the right, in a room literally split in half by a plasterboard wall. I know which side of it I’m going to be on and take my position – just another day at the office. Time to focus and get into Creamgirl mode.

I have to banish at least some of my Reuben related thoughts this evening. Any distraction would be a welcome relief. The more dicks the better, as far as I’m concerned.

I focus on the way the butler tightens the collar around my neck, trying yet again to ignore the way his bloody beard looks. He isn’t Reuben. He’s nothing like bloody Reuben.

I get down on my knees and the chain from the collar is fed through a gap in the wall, it’s length and tightness controlled by the user at the other side. I’m just a puppet with an open mouth in this spot. I get up on all fours, where the chain is at its tightest, and spread my legs open wide. Clients have full access to my ass and pussy whenever they want them, and the door they enter from is to my rear. I never get to see their faces.

It’s like one of the founders’ meetings in some ways, but the anonymity is less… extreme. Less formal. Less terrifying.

If I saw one of my client’s faces in this place it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but with the heads of the agency, it would be a whole other matter. Reuben has only reinforced the severity, and it should put me off since a breach of anonymity has my entire career at risk. Should. I’m a dumb cow sometimes though, always attracted to the forbidden – tonight I’m going to use that to my advantage. I’m going to channel that sensation into the job at hand, sinking into the beautiful black hole of slut space with a smile.

Or at least try to.

It’s not going to be a smile for Reuben tonight. No. It can’t be. It has to be about the clients. Just a shame that I’ll be able to picture every single one of them as him.

I lick my lips as I wait for my first arrival. I shuffle my knees wider apart and rock myself, teasing my own pussy with my motions. I want cock inside me, and I want it rough enough to smash my schoolgirl butterflies to smithereens.

The overhead lights are bright in this place on purpose, highlighting every action and every move. I enjoy that. A lot of plus sized women are embarrassed by their curves, and I get it. Self-consciousness is a goblin of the fucking soul, but I love my body the way it is. I love how fat my ass cheeks are, and how it feels to have them spread wide open. I love the way my tits and belly bounce and slap when it’s playtime. I love the way people see me as a chubby slutty mantrap, and how I’m so fucking good at exploiting it.

I’m so desperate today that I’m almost calling out for my first punters. I’m fixated on the hole, waiting for the first cock to present itself. My mouth is watering to fuck by the time one appears, and I’m straight on it like a dribbling bitch, slurping like I’ve been offered a triple chocolate sundae. I smack my lips, and trail my tongue up the shaft, then pop and suck in a rhythm that has him cursing. I can hear him on the other side, and my heart drops a little, since he doesn’t sound like Reuben at all.

Fuck it. It’s all still about fucking Reuben.

“Swallow it all,” the guy behind the wall says, and I keep my mouth closed tight around his dick when he spurts for me, downing my first load.

It’s the first of so many, I’ll lose count by the time my shift is done.

I’m on cock number three, bobbing my head on a decent girther when I hear the door open to my rear. Judging from the footsteps and the heavy breaths, I think there’s three of them.

I hear one guy getting down on his knees behind me. He shuffles up and gives my chubby booty a decent slap before his fingers get to work, sliding their way between my legs to feel how wet my pussy is.

“Love this juicy cunt,” he says, and I recognise his voice. I’ve done him plenty, but nope. He sure as fuck isn’t a Reuben type. He pushes three fingers in, and I’m so gagging for it that I nearly abandon my duties and neglect the cock in my gob. All I do is moan around the other guy’s dick when a fourth finger slides in, pushing back as best I can.

“Nice to see you’re as horny as ever,” he says, but he has no fucking idea. My head is spinning with Reuben, and the founders, and it only makes me more needy. I imagine this setup is theirs, and Reuben could be one of the men either behind me, or on the other side of the glory wall.

If only he could see me, I’d make him proud of his slutty employee.

Or even better than that, I’d make him jealous.

That’s what he said after all – another man’s cologne when you’re not the one wearing it. Oh fuck, how I wish he could smell just how many scents I’ll be taking tonight. And maybe he will be…

Just like he was, watching me in the club, maybe he’s watching me right now…

That spurs me on more than any other thought in the world.

I groan like the true whore I am when the first cock of the evening pushes its way into my pussy. A spit roast is always a winner for me, especially when the collar around my neck pulls tight enough to have me gagging. My eyes water as I choke on thick cock, but there is nobody staring down at me to witness the stream of my mascara.

I don’t get any warning when the client at my rear shifts from my pussy to my ass. The surprise makes it hurt when he shoves his way inside me. I cry out around the cock in my throat, but it’s muted. I manage a smile to nobody as I work my curvy butt back and take it.

I want to enjoy the burn of the tightness before I’m fucked so many times they slip in without restraint.

There is no rhythm to the fucking from either end. Each guy works to their own different tune. It’s hot like that, so amateur in its fucking filth. I’m just a girl on offer for anyone who wants a piece in this place. I get my first round of cum in my ass, and the dick gets replaced by another in my pussy and it’s very welcome. He spreads my ass cheeks as he goes, and I’ve got his game. He’s one of those guys who likes to see another man’s jizz dribbling from my asshole. Hell fucking yeah. That turns me on. I push it out so he gets a better view. My pleasure.

I don’t get an instruction to swallow through the wall this time, so I keep my mouth open when the guy spurts for me, happy when it splatters all over my face. I’m always such a fucking mess at the end of these sessions that I never get a cab back home – the butler usually drives me with a plastic seat cover to protect the Merc. It’s not just jizz that I get through the hole – it’s whatever the cock poking through wants to give me. Whatever comes out of the hose…

I always get some dirty surprises. I always get some filthy laughs from the other side when someone sprays my slutty face and leaves me drenched, but the laugh is on me, too. I don’t get toilet breaks in the entire twelve hours I’m collared here. I don’t get to hold up a hand and go to the bathroom like a sweet little schoolgirl, oh no. I have to go right on the floor where I am, on my knees in my own wet mess.

The clients always love it that way.

That’s the kind of proposal £18k gets them, and I’m more than happy to accommodate. Little do they know I’d probably do this shit for free.

Or I would… for Reuben…

His outrageous proposal comes slamming back into my mind. Forty-eight grand for twenty-fours with the man himself.

Only seven days until I’m playing for him – with him.

Only seven days until I get to see his cock for the first time.

I wonder what he’ll do to me – if he’ll aim for super hardcore.

My pussy floods at the thought.

Floods at the image of me with my mouth wrapped around his dick and looking up into his lusting eyes.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I wish my brain would shut the fuck up.

I’ve had five rounds of cum in my mouth when the first hose spray greets me through the wall. No matter how many times I think I’m prepared for it, I always jump backwards and strain against my collar. Instinct.

The guy feels the pull and tugs the chain tighter.

“Open your fucking mouth,” he says, and I do as I’m told, making sure he can hear me slurp and swallow. But I’m too late for a clean go. My tits are already drenched, nipples dripping. The guy fucking my pussy gives a fuck, yes and picks up the pace, thumbing my ass at the same time.

I could be so dirty for him if he asked me…

If he’s one of the fuck, yes gang when he sees the spray coming through the glory hole, then he’s likely one of the long stayers who sink into the deep end of the filth pool by the end of the session. But it’s too early to know that yet.

The next guy through the hole is so big he makes me heave when he fucks my throat, and he’s paired up with a guy from behind fucking my ass from a high angle. Both of them strain and grunt like sin, and I feel myself sinking into my whore mind. The place where Creamgirl truly becomes Creamgirl – the puppet slut, out to serve her clients and nothing more.

It’s a wonderful place to be.

Away from thoughts of Reuben, just a little bit.

My ass is a deep playground. Fingers, cocks, and a hefty slap of lube as they work me up to a dirty fisting. My needy whore cunt eats up three rounds of cum in ten minutes tops and I’m begging for more around the dick I’m slurping on.

More, more, more, always fucking more.

I get offered a drink of water and down it gladly when a set of dicks switch over, but then it’s back to it. Cock after cock after cock, until I’m dripping jizz from my chin, and my tits, and my ass crack. My pussy is slimy wet by the time I need to go to the toilet myself.

I give notice with a need to piss warning, groaned around the dick in my mouth, but it only fuels them further. I’ve got a cock slamming me deep when I break and let it go, and his fingers are on my clit spurring me on as I piss around his cock.

It drives me out of my fucking mind. I’m out of my head when I come while pissing, grinning around a glory hole cock as the pressure subsides.

It’s not the guys who usually start up with the degradation, it’s me.

I’m a dirty fucking bitch, so take me like one. Fuck my slutty cunt, that’s it. Just like that. Slap my chubby ass and get your dirty fucking fist in there, make me take it. Make me.

My mouth talks trash around cock and laughs along with the guys when more spray comes through. I come for the second time when one of the pussy fuckers pulls out and finally works a fist into me. It must be so creamed in jizz, it’s crazy easy to take. I can hear the sloppy mess over my throat quacks as his fist thumps at my insides so beautifully.

One of the clients changes up the position. He rolls onto his back and shuffles on the piss wet floor so his face is under my cunt, and when the fist is yanked free, I cry out and ride his mouth like my life depends on it.

“Yeah, clean me up. Fucking clean me!”

I cry out again when the guy behind me slams his dick into my ass in one hard thrust.

And fuck, my cry turns to a whimper when the guy underneath me locks his mouth around my clit. He’s got an advantage, since my clit is already swollen tender and ready to go, but he’s good at it. Fair play to him. His sucking tips me over the edge, and his friend thanks him, since my spasms of joy clench the cock in my ass like a vice. I get another load of jizz to treasure.

The dicks blur, the sensations blur, everything blurs as I get wetter and wetter – caked in cum and spit and piss as I do my job. The glory hole gets dirtier, and the cocks need sucking harder, the dirty bastards tasting more and more filthy as the hours go by.

Another two glasses of water later and my bladder gives in again. The early attendees have disappeared, and I’ve got a new round of players. Still, none of them sound like Reuben as they cheer on the slut pissing on the floor.

Shame.

I’d love to hear his voice right now.

Halfway through the proposal and my knees are killing me and my arms are aching. My ass is on fire, and my pussy is full to the brim, and my cheeks hurt from sucking, but still I keep going. I never stop and flake out of a proposal, not ever.

I’m on auto slut mode as I beg for everything they have to give. My hair is soaked, dripping wet. I’ve been hosed by so much piss, I get chills, but it all just adds to the thrill. I love the insults they sling my way. I love my ass being slapped before they use it, voices merging together in cheers as they make me fuck myself on hand after hand, and cock after cock after cock.

Do you know how much of a filthy, cheap, slutty fucking bitch you are?

I get asked that quite often, and yes. I do.

It’s what I want. It’s what I love. It’s where I lose myself and find myself, both at once.

Yet deep in the pits of me, something else is stirring tonight.

More than being a filthy, cheap, slutty fucking bitch right now, what I really want is to be with my silver fox Santa.

I’d give up all these cocks for just one go with his.

And if he was here… if he could see me… would he feel anything? Even for just a moment? Would he feel even the slightest pang of jealousy? Would he drag me away from the glory wall and hose me down for real and take me for himself?

I come again with a random cock inside me, but that’s where my mind is.

The fantasy of Reuben storming in here and tearing me from the wall, claiming me as his and his alone.

I’m sleep deprived, and delirious. I have to be.

I’ve never wanted to be with just one man before. Ever since I became an entertainer, it’s always been the more the merrier…

It’s as though the earth is shifting under my dirty knees, minute by minute. Unstable as my feelings morph inside me. The dick in my throat means nothing. The people jeering and fucking me from behind are a blur of whatever. I just don’t care.

I just don’t care anymore.

I get a rush of terrifying freedom as the iron clad persona of Creamgirl finally cracks and falls away.

It’s not Creamgirl I want to be in this room tonight. It’s Tiffany.

And all Tiffany wants is to be with Reuben.

I want Reuben so bad it hurts.

Seven more days until our proposal and I wish like crazy that it was tomorrow.

I’m fucked. Really, fucking fucked. I should call my therapist for real.

But it feels so good…

I’m barely conscious by the time the session is over. The butler offers me a towel and I clean myself up. In the silence of the aftermath, he wraps me in a blanket and guides me out of this place into the hall outside. It’s 6 a.m., nobody left around bar me and him, and even though I’ve been fucked half to death, all I can do is stare at his beard, still possessed by the fragment of similarity.

“All done,” he says. “Ready for home?”

I can’t help my usual banter.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

“Kinda. Could do a few more rounds, you know me.”

I swap the blanket for my coat and bag, and wait for him to get his car keys, but he doesn’t put on a coat, just looks out into the courtyard as a flash of headlights show.

“Your cab is here,” he tells me.

“My what?”

“Your cab,” he says, like it should be obvious. “You booked it, yes? We got the confirmation via the app earlier.”

I haven’t got a fucking clue what he’s talking about until he opens the door to reveal a Bentley parking up outside.

That’s no fucking cab.

My heart drops through the floor, then zooms up into the fucking sky.

It can’t be.

The driver gets out of the car and I was right. He does have a similar cut of a beard to the butler. Only better.

One billion percent fucking better.

The grin on his face makes my insides melt when he steps up to me.

“Time to go, Creamgirl,” he tells me, and links his arm in mine.