6. Praise Isn’t Given, It’s Earned

PRAISE ISN'T GIVEN, IT'S EARNED

I'mat my desk fantasizing about all the epic ways I could quit my job. Throwing a drink in Tabitha's face, screaming, I quit this bitch is at the top of my list right now.

Sharon, from accounting, heads over to my desk and looks around. "You want to cut out early, head to Mutiny for some drinks?"

"You had me at cut out early."

I pull the drawer open, grabbing my purse and leaving all the private investigator's information behind as I hightail it out of the office.

Mutiny is a little hole in the wall place right around the corner from the office. The amount of my paycheck they get is honestly obscene.

Sharon lights up a cigarette next to me as we walk, but she's courteous enough to keep the smoke from blowing anywhere near me.

"Who"s on your shit list today?" I ask her.

"Zach," she groans. "Listen, I know his father is dying, and he's more than likely going to inherit at least half of the company, but does he have to be such a stuck-up asshole?"

"At least he hasn't been in the office as much."

"Yeah, only to swing by and pick Tabitha up at the end of the day."

"They are truly a match made in Hell," I say, and Sharon barks out a laugh.

"Collin let them run wild. I think Aiden is feeling the weight of that now," Sharon says.

I nod my head, feeling sorry that my cousin has to constantly deal with them.

The air conditioning inside of the bar is welcoming as we take our seats. Sharon is a friend, I guess. But she's the kind of friend that's situational. We both work at the same place, and have the same gripes. But she's in her mid-fifties with two divorces and two teenage sons under her belt, besides working at the same place we don't have much in common.

"So what's new with you?" she asks.

I know Sharon would be absolutely riveted if I told her about Avalon and the Key Club, but it's my secret. Even if asked point blank about what I'm doing, I'm going to lie. It's my dirty little secret and I plan on taking it with me to my grave.

So, instead, I tell her about my search for my parents. "I hired a private investigator to look into my birth parents."

"No shit?"

"I just want some closure there, ya know? I don't have any grand ideas of wanting a close relationship with them. I just need to know why."

Sharon takes a sip of her drink and looks at me with a motherly softness.

"No matter what you find out, just know that you have so many people who care about you."

I swallow thickly.

"Thank you, Sharon."

"Now let's get wasted and talk shit about everyone in the office. Did you see that girl Ed is dating? Did he get her off a website?"

I laugh alongside Sharon, feeling the lightest I have in days.

I didn't drink toomuch at Mutiny, despite Sharon's peer pressure. Her son picked her up, and I walked home and immediately jumped in the shower to wash away the day.

I hate living in Florida this time of year, but as the cool water washes over my body, I forget about it. I wrap my hair in a towel, as well as my body and lie down on my bed. My apartment is frustratingly quiet. Maybe I should get a pet.

No… we are not getting a pet during whatever crisis I'm currently going through. Maybe in the future though.

I'd much rather be in a house with a husband and the sound of children playing, but this is my life.

What little buzz and happiness I had when I was out with Sharon slowly fades away as I grab my laptop and open up the Avalon site.

I have ten requests for the Key Club.

I don't let it affect my ego too much, because the truth is they're just going off my profile, it's not because they actually want me. Which is fine, because that's what I want too.

Either way, the reality is that this fantasy is going to come to life and I need to decide who I want to give that honor to.

The first three profiles are super bland, and seem like they just want to put their dick in a hole to have it serviced. Which I get, it's part of the point, but for me? It's more than that.

The next profile goes by the alias Big Daddy. I don't even bother opening that one.

The next ones aren't so bad, but they don't stand out to me either. I'm left with two remaining files, Sparrow and Wayne.

I open Sparrow's first. He seems to be really open to toy usage, both types of glory holes, and it says he enjoys praise. I squint at the screen and scroll down to the sentences he had to write about what he wants from this experience.

I want you to be a good girl for me and take my cock.

My answer was also brief, but it doesn't give me what I'm looking for. I'm not looking to be someone"s good girl, I mean maybe sometimes, but that's not what this is for me. If I wanted praise and to be a good little pet, I'd just go straight to Avalon and find a partner to do that with. I only want praise when it's completely earned.

My needs are darker, and I'm not sure that Sparrow is the one to fulfill them, but he is currently my top choice.

I click on Wayne's profile, and hope that maybe he has something more interesting. Just like Sparrow, he's open to toys, impact play, but he has some additions I haven't seen in the other profiles. The ones that catch my eye are delayed gratification, edging, and spitting.

I tap the side of my laptop and lick my lips. That's definitely something I could be into.

I scroll down and see he would specifically like to wear condoms during intercourse, which isn't an issue for me, until I finally get to his bio.

I want you wet and waiting, eager to please, and willing to take what you get. I'll make it good for you if you deserve it. You'll be writhing on the other side of the wall, begging for a stranger to fuck you. We might not know each other, but I'm ready to make your fantasies come true.

I read it at least five times.

This is—he is—exactly what I've been looking for. I reply, clicking three times I would be available and take a deep breath while I stare at the screen.

It doesn't even take a whole minute for me to get a notification that he has accepted my invitation for 9pm tomorrow night. My heart thunders in my chest as I look at the scheduled time.

Am I really going to do this?

I absolutely fucking am.

I'm notsure why I shaved my entire body, did a face mask, and I'm wearing a dress that is both slutty and sensual for tonight. He won't even be able to see me or feel me. I thought that just doing a simple old school glory hole would be the best first start.

Maybe even between a wall there will be some level of chemistry and then the next time we can work up to me being completely exposed and for the taking.

Part of the intrigue is being on the opposite side of the wall on my knees for some stranger.

I consider getting a drink beforehand, but decide against it. I just kill time outside the building, waiting for my code to be texted to me so I can go inside.

Whoever is putting their body inside always goes into the room first. I wonder how weird it's going to be to not be able to talk to him or hear his pleasure. This is what I wanted to experience, though. To others, it might seem informal with no sensual aspect, but for me, it's quite the opposite.

I like the idea of being used. I like that when I walk into that room, my only purpose is my mouth.

I haven't been able to really explain to my previous partners this feeling I've been chasing. I'm usually met with confusion or disgust. How could I want to be used or degraded? It's not that I truly even want to be degraded with words. Maybe I just haven't done a great job explaining myself.

Putting it into words is difficult.

But the Key Club feels like a safe place to finally express this feeling. If I don't like it, I can easily walk away and never talk about it again. There are safeguards in place, and I don't have to explain myself to anyone. In fact, no words will even be spoken.

My phone vibrates, and my heart stops as I look at the code. I take a deep breath and ready myself.

This is what I wanted.

I clutch my purse as I head toward the side entrance. The hallway is short and I reach the door with the golden circle plastered in front of it and enter the code. It's like I'm barely breathing as the lock whirls and I wrap my hand around the handle and enter the space.

Sensual instrumental music is playing as I put my belongings on the side table. The room is dimly lit and small, but there's no missing the massive cock protruding through the other side of the wall, waiting for me.

The man on the other side of the wall, Wayne, doesn't move. He just waits patiently.

Tonight is about his pleasure, and though it might not seem like it, there is power in being able to make someone fall apart.

There's innate power in getting down on my knees for a stranger, the soft material of my skirt rises on my thighs as my calves rest against the padded material.

I rub my hands on my thighs before I cautiously wrap my hand around the base of his cock. His dick twitches and shifts in the hole from the sudden touch. I smile to myself as I stroke him a few times.

The space is large enough for his entire cock and balls to be on my side of the wall as I move my fist up and down. As far as penises go, he has a nice one. The right amount of girth. The tips of my fingers barely touch one another as I slide my fist along his cock. The tip is leaking pre-cum, and I boldly stick out my tongue, licking up the release.

The music is too loud for me to hear his reaction, but I can see his balls tightening against his body.

It's an interesting feeling not being able to hear or see his reaction in a big way, but it's enough to spur me on.

I slide my one hand into my panties, playing with myself, mostly to get my fingers wet, while I suck on the head of his shaft.

It breaks his patience as he slides back and forth through the hole, the tip of his dick slipping in and out of my parted lips. It doesn't matter who I am to this man, all that matters is my mouth is making him feel good.

It's dirty and makes me wetter. When my fingers are sticky and wet, I grab his length again, covering him in my essence.

There's a thump against the wall and I swear it must be his hand hitting the wall for support as I cover him in me and then sink him back down my throat.

I taste myself. The salty musk of my juices is warm against my tongue as I take him deeper down my throat. He can't grab the back of my head and shove me down, not that I would mind, but I also like this feeling of controlling the situation while also being used.

My hand grabs his cock by the base, my tongue sliding over his slit and the ridges of the head before I take him down deeper. He feels so much larger as I swallow him down; he hits the back of my throat. I find myself wanting to please my stranger, knowing he isn't easy to please.

Praise isn't given, it's earned.

I take him down, dropping my hand from his length and the tip of my nose touches the wall as he takes control, fucking my mouth, taking what he wants, using me.

I do my best to ease the gagging, but it's inevitable and he just shoves his cock down my throat, anyway.

Tears are forming in my eyes, but I feel like I have something to prove. I need to show him that I'm good, that I not only want this, but so much more.

My hands rest against my thighs and I dig my nails into my flesh, the bite of pain taking away some of the discomfort of him hitting the back of my throat—I welcome both.

There's another soft bang against the wall before I feel his cock jerk and warm cum trickles down my throat. I do my best to swallow as much as I can, but some slips between my lips. I suck hard as I slide back, popping off the tip of his length.

I stare at his cock that's still slightly hard. I expect him to stay there, and let me leave first, like I'm supposed to.

But he doesn't.

He slides his dick back to his side of the wall, and my heart sinks, thinking our little anonymous game is over.

Instead, he slips his hand through the hole. I'm stunned for a moment, and don't move. He takes a moment, but his hand searches around for my face, until he finally cups my chin, his thumb swiping around my lips and shoving any remaining cum into my mouth.

His hand is soft, there aren't any major calluses on his fingers. He must have been wearing a suit, but took off the jacket. All that remains is his white dress shirt. I suck his thumb, tasting his release.

He brushes my lips one last time with the pad of his thumb, the motion almost tender, before his hand slips through the hole back to the other side. The lighting is dim and I can barely see anything except his expensive suit as he turns and leaves the Key Club.

I didn't come, but that wasn't the point of this meeting. It will still be the material I'll use to masturbate until my next encounter with Mr. Wayne.