Page 18 of Glory Hole

Beck and I both turn our heads toward the elderly voice. I’m still up against the wall, legs wrapped around him like a vise. My ass is fully out of my dress since I realize it’s sitting on my waist and Becks’ hand is clearly on my bare cheek. His other hand has momentarily stilled on his button, and he slowly, very slowly stops rubbing himself against me, like he’s hoping the floor will open up and swallow her so we can continue. I’ve never wanted a sink hole in my store until this moment. My clit is seriously very pissed off about this turn of events and throbs in protest.

Is this what blue balls feels like? Is this blue clit? Is that a thing? I need to google that.

“May I help you?” I smile like a crazed lunatic as I ask the very shocked World’s Greatest Grandma…according to her shirt she is wearing, anyway.

“Mother fucking cock-blockers every damn where,” Beck grumbles as he lays his head on my chest.

“I was actually looking for this year’s edition of a cook book that’s published annually by the local Rotary Club. Do you carry that?”

A fucking cookbook? I’m not going to get laid because this lady wants to cook?

“Yes, we do, but I’m sorry, it’s currently out of stock. Try down at Henry’s Drug Store. They may still have some copies.”

“Thank you, young lady, and I’m not certain you’re aware, but your derrière is exposed, dear.”

“Um, thanks. I’ll get that under control.”

Fucking World’s Greatest cock-blocker. That’s what her t-shirt should say.

The door chimes when she leaves. We were so caught up in each other, we didn’t hear it when she came in. Beck’s head is still against my shoulder, and I feel him begin to vibrate before I hear his laugh.

“It’s like the world is trying to keep me out of your pants.”

At that, I start to laugh too. Although, I’m really finding it to be more frustrating than funny. I was about to have a fantastic orgasm. I think Beck is right. The world is trying to keep him out of my pants.

Beck lets me slide down his body, his cock still hard. He groans as I slide down the length of him, my legs releasing their hold to let my feet find the floor. I want to cry for the loss of his unicorn cock and die from the embarrassing scene a customer walked in on. Just as I’m pulling my dress back down and Beck is buckling his belt, Christina walks in.

“Is your boob leaking, Glory, and why did I just get stopped by an old lady wearing a t-shirt that said The World’s Greatest Grandma? She saw me about to come in and stopped me to tell me not to go inside because there were fornicators.”

Chapter Ten

Glory

I’m a dirty damn liar.

The day after my internal declaration, here I am, watching Beck right now as he walks around his bedroom. He’s rearranged a few items in his room and unpacked some boxes.He’s like crack to me. I’m a junkie, and I desperately need my fix. I am ashamed of myself, but in my own defense, he is so sexy, I can’t stop. It’s like live porn, or what I assume guys addicted to web cams must feel like.It’s my own reality TV.

Shirtless and in another pair of gray sweat pants, he rummages around the box, pulling items out and setting them on the bed. After he left the bookstore today, I had to go to the bathroom and handle my business. Blue clit is a thing and is real.

My microwave chimes, and I hop off the pillows I’ve now placed in front of the hole. After retrieving my popcorn and a bottle of water, I make my way back to my observation deck where I settle in with the snack between my legs and look back in on Beck.

He stretches from side to side before he kicks his shoes off. Even his feet are sexy. How the hell is that even possible? He pads across the room to his dresser, and I can’t really tell what he’s doing. It’s at a weird angle from me, but I hear a few clicks then music begins to play. He bounces his head to the beat, and then he starts to sway with the music a bit. His movements grow more pronounced, and there must be a Heaven because I am in it. Beck is dancing. Please strip. Please strip. Please strip.

Seconds later, my prayers are answered. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and slowly, seductively pushes them down his hips, exposing those dick thruster V lines that make me horny just looking at them. He thrusts his hips a few times in my direction before he fully pushes them to the floor and steps out of them.

I swallow as I watch him gyrate around his bedroom clad only in black boxer briefs. If his musical career ever falters, he could totally make a living as stripper. Beckett Jameson is fucking hot.

He spins around, the cotton of his briefs hugging him in all the right places as he keeps time to the beat. He shakes his ass, swiveling it in a circle and teases me as he pulls his boxers down just enough that his ass becomes barely visible. Jesus, I may not survive sex with him if his dancing is any indication of his bedroom moves. He turns to face me again and does a body roll into a squat and hunch thing that has me about to lose my mind. I’m ready to throw dollars through the hole.

He smiles, and his face lights up. It almost feels like he’s smiling at me, except I know he isn’t. He has no idea I’m spying on him. He slides his thumbs into the edge of his briefs and pulls them from side to side, totally teasing me. Sexy bastard. Take that shit off.Just as he is about to pull off his boxers and I am just about to stick my hand in my pajamas, his phone rings. He stops dancing and walks over to his phone. He looks at it a second before answering, and in the rudest tone I have ever heard from him, he answers with, “What the fuck do you want?” before he heads out of his bedroom.

I try to listen, and I can hear him almost yelling at whoever is on the line. I’ve not known him long, I know, but he always seems so chilled out and happy, easy going. He must really not like whoever is on the other end of that phone.

Guessing my entertainment is done for the night, I prop the picture and ceramic cat back over the hole. I’ve decorated it a bit more so it doesn’t seem like a random picture just leaning against the wall. I’ve added a potted plant and a ceramic cat statue that I found at the farmers market a couple of weeks ago. Wookie hates the cat and growls at it every time he passes it. I prop the ceramic cat in front of the picture so it doesn’t accidentally fall over and expose my dirty secret to the world.I grab the pillows from the floor and toss them back on my couch before I snag my book off the table and head to bed. I need to finishHammeredby Rose Hudson so Jen can borrow it. I hope whoever it is who called and interrupted my show gets chewed a new asshole. Beck was right. The world is cock-blocking us.

Chapter Eleven

Glory

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