The Portable Gloryhole

Finally out of the office after staying late fixing someone else's mistakes, Heather barely caught the last train going home. She fingered the taser she kept in her bag and surveyed the other passengers for anything concerning. Unless the random homeless guy or the guy blasting his earphones came closer, she didn't feel like she was in any danger here.

Her boss had offered to drive her home in his car, some expensive sports thing that boys liked. That idea sounded even more dangerous than taking the train by herself. At least here they couldn't just drive her off a back road and have their way with her.

It wasn't that Gary was a bad guy or anything, she thought, but all it took to go that way was the opportunity and a few crossed wires in the brain. Heck, Heather knew she wouldn't be the man's first choice either. A sedentary job, looking at a monitor all day, hadn't done any favors to her figure and her daily exercises could only keep her on the better side of curvy.

Yep, any of the high-school interns or one of the secretaries would be a shield protecting her from unwanted attention.

Heather sighed, slightly disappointed. This job was supposed to be a pit stop on her way, just something to pay the bills while she did auditions and to leave in the dust as soon as she got famous. Five years later she was five years older and no closer to that goal, nearly in the same role. Only twenty-three and already wearing a wrist brace to keep a typing injury from flaring up.

With a good fifteen minutes to go, she took one of many empty seats far away from the homeless man and the hearing-damaged gangsta. Then, the train stopped to let on yet another strange passenger.

The man was tall, over six feet, and looked like he had government business. From his slicked-back black hair, his black shades, and his black suit, he seemed like he might be headed to an assassination. But he was riding the subway and carried a crinkly paper bag, so he must have been a normal freak with a better than average budget.

The G-man came to the same side of the car as Heather and sat across from her without a word. With his shades, it wasn't clear if he was looking at her when he rested his elbows on his knees and his chin in his folded hands. He had the kind of sharp features that would make terrifying shadows from the lamp in an interrogation room; his sigh carried with it a near imperceptible growl.

Thankfully, he left at the next stop. But forgot to take his paper bag with him.

Goof thing I'm not a thief, Heather thought. But what about the punk and the trash? They would absolutely take the G-man's bag and sell whatever was inside, probably buy drugs with the proceeds. No, better that a responsible citizen take it, maybe see him again and give it back.

Duly convinced, Heather grabbed the bag on her way out of the subway and hurried back to her apartment on the surface.

Friday's work done, Heather threw open her front door and tossed hers and the G-man's bags onto her bed where she promptly forgot about them. First came off the ridiculous professional skirt, then the too-tight white dress shirt, and lastly pantyhose. On went the weekend uniform of a sweatshirt and sweatpants that still had a few days of wear before they would smell bad enough to need washing.

Finally she was comfortable after a long week of dealing with other people's problems. The electric kettle went on to make instant noodles and the computer fired up. Heather dug a can of energy drink from a huge box of twenty-four whose bulk savings had been irresistible and sat back to do whatever the fuck struck her fancy.

That turned out to be an rpg she never had time for during the week.

Thus began her forty-eight hours of freedom. No small-talk, no paperwork, and certainly no yelling at suppliers over the phone. Heather's eyes started to hurt and she knew there would be bags growing underneath them, but she was determined to make up for her long day and inhaled the contents of her energy drink

Gaming took a few hours of mind-numbing clicking to get boring, her brain simply running out of the chemical capacity for fun. Sitting in the dark with snacks at arm's reach shouldn't be so exhausting, she thought. More caffeine and sugar could only do so much and it was all borrowed time from her future self, so Heather closed the game and considered continuing in the morning.

The last thing she wanted to do was sleep. That would waste so much precious time, and for what? The temptation of a fast internet connection won out and her favorite site was soon blaring moans through her headphones.

Heather reached under her sweatpants and started rubbing while the man onscreen got his butthole tongued by a much more manly man, preparing the tight hole for his massive, porn-star cock.

They were playing it off like the bottom was a virgin, relying on the top's experience, but Heather had seen the actor before getting gaped by a novelty dildo. There was no way he was going to have trouble with the top's throbbing rod, despite the way he moaned when it pierced his quivering ass.

Heather felt her heart beating heavy in her chest, overloaded with caffeine, fatigue, and now being forced to carry on while she vigorously rubbed her wet pussy lips. She didn't manage to finish the video before she knew she had to get it done and over with, so she skipped to the last bit where the top pounded the bottom's ass, his balls slapping against lube-slicked flesh, and came an unbelievable load. The bottom was left shaking, his own orgasm splattering across his belly.

There, Heather rubbed hard, dipping her fingers inside herself and circling her clit with her thumb until she wrung out an orgasm that made her curl into a ball in her chair.

Thus, her daily routine was done. It didn't even feel shameful now, clicking off the last minute of the porno; it was just something she did before bed. She cleaned herself off with a conveniently placed tissue box, put the computer to sleep, and navigated to her bed by the kitchen light.

Only then did she remember the paper bag she'd taken home. It had to move for her to get into bed after all.

She wasn't even going to get on the train for another couple days, and then there would be no certainty that the G-man would be there to get his stuff back. Heather wondered if she had just taken home a bag of trash that he was leaving there to be picked up when the train was cleaned. It could contain any number of things that wouldn't merit returning, so who could fault her for taking a look?

Nobody, she decided.

Heather spread out a towel and dumped the bag out into it, wary that it might be the G-man's lunch garbage, and several items fell out.

First, there was a square bottle of pink, heart-shaped pills. What label there had been was taken off and a few scraps of ripped plastic were all that remained. An impression on the safety lid called it a bottle of "ABR mf vitamins".

Then there were a pair of extremely cheap panties and a bra that were still individually wrapped. They were the kind of uncomfortable, paper-thin ones that you only kept for an embarrassing emergency.

Lastly, a ring of brassy metal. It had all rounded edges and the hole in the middle was around four inches wide. It seemed like the kind of fancy bangle that a party girl would wear on her wrist and immediately lose after her first drink. But it also had a little, red light next to a depression.

Natural curiosity led Heather to press into the depression and the red light began flashing yellow. That was the only change, though, so she set it on the floor and went back to inspecting the rest of the G-man's weird items.

The underwear, while weird for a man to be carrying around, could be explained in a moment. Maybe the G-man was bringing emergency supplies to a female friend or a girlfriend? It was hard to imagine the hard-faced guy of having any friends, much less a girlfriend, but worse pairings existed. Heck, he might be a pervert. The pills gave off an air of "male enhancement" so that felt more likely than anything altruistic.

So it was, Heather had a clearer idea of what had been going on and began replacing the items in the bag.

The ring was last, and she tried to pick it up, but the thing felt like it was caught on the carpet. It had seemed to be perfectly smooth metal, and as she ran her fingers around it, it felt more like it was glued down. She couldn't even get the carpet to move so she could pry it off.

The light had turned green, and in the darkness of her room, Heather thought she could see a dim light coming through the middle of the ring where there should only be more carpet.

She bent to get a closer look. Through the ring, it looked like she was staring into another room from a weird angle. It was a small room and the dim light shining against one wall was the flickering kind that came from a monitor, playing video. Was this ring some kind of new video projector? Who would want to project something like this?

Then a cock peeked through the ring.

"Huh... didn't think I was that tired yet." Heather grabbed the dick, certain that it was a dreamed-up thing.

It pumped up at her touch, as if someone on the other side had come to full attention, was pressing his hips to the other side of the hole. Uncircumcised, as Heather stroked its skin bunched up and covered the tip. A little dribble of precum covered the tip and spilled over the side, coating heather's fingers.

The cock grew in her hand, becoming truly hard as she shlicked up and down the warm, throbbing shaft. It felt familiar from the time when Heather was actually popular with men and she ended up going at it with some enthusiasm.

This was a dream after all, why not have fun while it lasted?

She wet her other hand with precum and slid it back into her panties where she rubbed the goo into her pussy lips.

For the cock, she took a firm grasp and a fiendish grin spread over her face; this guy had no idea what was coming. She kept her grip firm and fapped furiously, making sure she paid extra attention to the sensitive tip. For his credit, the man on the other side didn't immediately blow his load in her hand, lasting through her first round with only a little twitching at the end serving as evidence of his restraint.

So she slowed down to a crawl, her fingers gently stroking his softness. Heather wondered what face he was making, if he might be biting his lip to keep from cumming too early. Chuckling to herself, feeling heat growing between her own legs, Heather decided he had enough of a break.

Clamping her fingers around it again, she pounded her fist up to the tip and back down with such force that she hammered the ring with a steady thumping. She wondered if her neighbors could hear it, but easily dismissed the concern. It was too much fun to think of this guy desperately holding himself back to care about anything else.

The absolute din of wet smacking and thumping with Heather's own breath was music to her ears, and she wiggled her pants down to her knees to add in the shlicking of wet fingers dipping into her pussy. In her fuzzy-headed sleepiness, she knew that she could wring out an orgasm for herself and the mystery dick whenever she wanted.

So, again, she calmed her pace. The cock receded, humping the hole as if the guy on the other side had to clench his ass just to keep from blowing up. Heather knew the way he felt, being pulled away at the very last moment, unable to finish. She humped her own fingers, keeping herself primed even as she slowly stroked the dick, teasing his slick tip with a circling fingertip.

It was time for the finale. Heather ramped up her stroking until it was as tight and fast as before and she could already feel that the dick was pulsing, ready to cum. There she kept it, squishing her fingers into her cunt to try and match his timing. At last, the dick reached the end of its endurance and thrust up out of the hole to spray everywhere.

But Heather didn't let that happen. Just as she felt it pulsing underneath her fingers, she took as hard a grip as she could, pressing her thumb against it from below to stop the flow of cum. It jerked around in her hand, like the man on the other side was spasming against the wall in forcefully halted orgasm. Breathing hard, a fire in her chest, Heather urged herself into a quick, exhausting orgasm with her fingers.

She rode herself to climax with the mental image of her frustrated lover on the other side of the hole and she erupted with laughter. Only then did she release her grip, allowing the built up pressure in his dick push out a stream of unfulfilling jizz that ran over her fingers as his cock softened.

Heather bent and kissed the cummy tip as it retreated into the hole. As soon as it was gone, she could see her carpet through the ring and it could easily be picked up off the floor. It had been a weird hallucination, but fun, and she fell into bed without enough wakefulness to even pull up her covers.

-02-

The first morning of the weekend started at noon, when Heather's bladder made its opinion on staying in bed very clear. After a dash to the bathroom, she discovered that her fingers had some kind of sticky residue on them. She hardly thought about it, hoping to find its source on her way back, but it had a familiar musk that she had trouble placing.

Soap and water got it off easily enough, so after an inspection of her bedding revealed no source of the residue, she pushed it to the back of her mind and made brunch to be eaten in front of the computer. She ate her microwaved omelette, which she considered healthy, and downed another can of energy drink to get rid of her late-night's accrued drowsiness.

While Heather entertained herself, hours passed and half her food went cold. She'd been too taken in by the internet to remember to finish it all. And while she felt cooking eggs in the microwave was perfectly justifiable, saving a pan from needing to be cleaned, she drew a line at re-microwaving an omelette.

On her way to drop her cold eggs in the trash, her bare foot found something on the floor.

The ring she'd taken out of that bag the night before lay on the carpet. Next to it, there was a splotch of crusted fluids.

Heather lowered herself to sniff the stain; it had the same familiar odor of the stuff she'd found on waking. And the events of last night came into sharp focus.

She flew into a panic, stuffed everything back into the bag and jammed it under her bed where she could safely ignore it. Possibilities flooded her mind. Was it an inflatable dildo with an inbuilt semen tank? She'd seen things as ridiculous as that for sale, but it had felt so real in her hand.

The thought of it drove her into the kitchen, where she held her stained hand under the hot tap until she was sure nothing could be there anymore. The stain, she covered with a dish towel, unwilling as she was to scrub a cum stain out of carpet for the next half hour.

Thinking to distract herself, she sat back at the computer and tried to immerse herself back into her game. Her current character was trying to seduce a cool, orcish war chief, so to keep sex far away from her mind, she started a new game least sexy race: a kind of big-nosed goblin.

Even that was a little too stimulating. The starting gear was just a loincloth and every time Heather's thoughts drifted, she wondered what her goblin's little, green penis must look like.

So, not minutes into her new game, Heather again turned it off to find another distraction. It felt ridiculous to be so afraid of something so small; there was an undercurrent of shame from having used someone else's sex toy, if that was what it was. She thought it over and decided it couldn't have been what her sleep-deprived brain thought: a portal to someone's dick, and since it couldn't be that, there had to be some better explanation.

She dug it back out for a more thorough inspection.

It still felt like the kind of metal loop a party girl would hang from her wrist, aside from the little depression and the red light. She couldn't see any crease or hole where an inflatable dildo could come out, anywhere to refill its supposed inbuilt semen container, or a port to charge the little, red light. In fact, the light didn't seem to have a source, shining from the surface of the brassy metal itself.

Could it be meant to be used only for a single charge? Did the ring split open somehow to inflate the dildo and allow access to the thing's innards? The metal's grain made it seem like a single length of high-diameter wire, but that was even suspect without any signs of a welded end.

There were no more options for investigation; Heather pressed the depression and the red light turned yellow. She expected something to happen right away, but remembered she couldn't get the ring off the carpet the night before when the light was green. Thinking it might need to be on a surface to work, she pressed the ring to her wall and her intuition was immediately rewarded.

The ring stuck fast on the wall and its light turned green. Through the palm-sized hole, Heather could see a metal wall a few feet beyond the ring painted public restroom green.

That wall should have connected her bedroom to the bathroom, but going there proved there was no corresponding hole on the other side. She thought briefly that it could be a projection of some kind, but chided herself; no projection like that would be able to have that kind of depth when looked at from as many angles as she had.

Facts were facts, no matter how unlikely. This ring was a portal.

Returning to the ring, Heather saw that someone's fingers were hanging through the ring from the other side, holding a note.

Taking care not to touch the fingers, Heather grabbed the note.

'Oral for 50?' it said.

Heather was shocked. She could hardly breathe as she considered the implications of what just happened. The night before, she'd jacked off a complete stranger, teased him, brought him to the edge and ruined his orgasm. That stranger's cum was left as a stain on her carpet. And now another man was waiting for her response, begging for her attention.

She licked her lips, swallowed down her anxiety. It wasn't as if she would ever have to do this again. Even if she did suck some random stranger off, nothing said it would be more than once. It could just be part of the experiment, the hole might not close unless he was satisfied.

With a pen, Heather wrote back, 'money up front'.

Just after she passed over the note, she heard a good-hearted chuckle from the other side and the man's fingers reemerged with a fifty-dollar bill.

Money in hand, Heather knew she couldn't turn back.

There were tense seconds of anticipation before the cock passed into Heather's apartment. It was bigger than the last one, bulging veins could be seen through the thin condom it wore. This guy was at least that considerate.

Heart throbbing, Heather forced herself onto her knees and bent forward to kiss the tip. Though it tasted like rubber, she could feel his heat through her lips, and his dick bounced approvingly.

She decided that if she was going to have to suck a dick today, she would be the one to get the most fun out of it. Her hand plunged between her thighs and she went to start in earnest.

She trailed kissed down his cock, ran her tongue from the base, along his hot shaft, then flicked it at the end. She could almost hear the stranger moaning on the other end, his pleasure subsumed by her will. But she didn't take him inside, not yet; Heather intended to have her fun first.

Ignoring the rubbery taste, she kept his dick on the tip of her tongue, slurping and kissing away to give him a toe-curling, agonizing time. The dick bounced and swayed as the man on the other side humped the wall, hoping for some release that his goddess would not allow him, and Heather giggled at his impotence.