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The makings of a gloryhole slut

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It was the summer before my senior year of high school and with my parents already on the verge of divorce, they thought it best to send me to my aunt's (my mom's sister) while they worked on repairing their relationship. Summers in Oklahoma aren't much different than anywhere else I assume, so I was sent to stay with my aunt and her husband.

The house was the typical two story home with a basement that had another living area there - a bedroom, the laundry room, and an open den area with a tv, couch, and sitting area. I did my part to help with the chores, usually doing the laundry and light cleaning since I was home while they worked. She was a librarian and he was an engineer of some sort. I would typically do the laundry on Saturday mornings, since she worked and I did enjoy having things done by the time she was back early evenings to show my appreciation.

Things started innocently enough, I could tell he noticed me, as I would catch his gaze, and he would give a compliment every now and then. I think things heated up between him and my aunt as well, as there were a few nights I could hear them going at it. Their bedroom was a little down the hall from mine, but whatever was going on, it had to have been enjoyable from the noises both were making. I wasn't naive in any sense of the word, but they certainly had sex more than my parents did. And judging from the one time I heard a conversation between my aunt and one of her friends, the "I don't know what's gotten into him but I like it" type of conversation came about, I later figured that may well be out of the norm as well.

He was attractive to me, though there was nothing out of the ordinary about him. I had a boyfriend already and liked sex, but didn't quite "love" it. My aunt's schedule changed ever so slightly (I'm a firm believer of things happen for a reason) and she got transferred to work on saturday's to a library a little further from the house so she had to get up earlier to leave. He would often do the out with friends thing on Fridays so he took to sleeping on the basement couch late on Fridays as to not disturb her. It was convenient as he was there when I would start the laundry on Saturdays.

There was a time early on that I caught him naked and asleep, so I walked back up the steps, and came back down a little more loudly to hopefully wake him. I did and he did cover up. With that, I will admit that I may have dressed a little more provocatively for the sake of being comfortable while doing laundry. One of the next trips down, he offered to help me fold some of the clothes since the dryer buzzer woke him up. i was sitting across from him, with the basket between us. It was then that he asked if I had a boyfriend, I said yes and we continued to make small talk.

After we folded the clothes I was getting ready to get up to leave and he asked if I knew the key to a man's heart. I said well, according to aunt karen it's through a man's stomach. he chuckled and he said actually it starts a bit lower. at which point i looked and realized he had moved the cover over a little and he was hard. i of course had seen my boyfriend cock before and had given him head, but seeing Brent hard was something entirely different. the confidence in which he casually leaned back, the only thing i knew to do was to crawl over and give him head. I'll never forget his words. "that's a good girl, I knew you had it in you" i felt submissive, yet in control. I knew i could stop, I knew I should stop, but I didn't. His voice, his encouragement, turned me on, when he started imploring me to "make me cum" I went from feeling submissive to empowered. He told me to swallow it like a good girl, and I did. After which he casually laid back down and asked me to wake him up again in about an hour as he was still tired.

That was it.. it went from hot explosion, to a casual disdain, as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. Yet somehow I couldn't stop thinking about it. Needless to say I did go back down to wake him up, and I did so by giving him head again. He said I was a natural. After the completion, he looked me in the eye and told me I couldn't tell anyone. I told him I wouldn't. And we went on about the day. It turned me on to think about what happened and not have anyone be the wiser. He apparently was turned on as well as later that night I heard them going at it hot and heavy, and I was aroused knowing that I knew what he looked like, what it felt like. The days that followed, again - nothing out of the norm, I was slightly inquisitive when there was time to be, he taught me a lot in terms of answering questions like how often do guys like to get head, etc. I think my boyfriend enjoyed the immediate aftermath, but then, I came to a realization that "he" wasn't what I wanted. It didn't quite feel the same - the high and the thrill wasn't there.

The weekend after, nothing happened, and I thought maybe I had done something wrong. The following saturday though, he helped me fold clothes again, at which point I gave him head and he reached down and asked if was ready for more. I said yes, it was all I could think about. He whispered in my ear that it wouldn't be right for him to put it in my pussy, that's not his place. he apparently had things planned out as he steadily worked a finger or two in my ass. he told me to keep sucking and he'd fuck me when I was ready. to which he did. it hurt at first, but he did take his time. he told me a really naughty gal will take it in the ass so they can fuck without having to worry about having kids. he said "the difference between white trash and a welcome tramp is about 2 inches" and men loved a tramp.

The on again, off again, "discretion" part of things, had me in a perpetual state of wanting more. Having my experiences with an older man, I saw men in general in an entirely different light. I do admit to being a little more flirtatious, just to see how they would respond, and it was always favorable. I didn't quite feel comfortable with doing anything more so I made a mental note and left it at that. There was one Saturday that Brent was working on a friend's car, and they both went down into the basement to shoot the breeze. It was early enough that I was still in and out doing my chores. I did the usual of running to get them a few beers, and then the buzzer went off on the dryer. I paused a little. I think that little voice in my head should've said something, but by this juncture of my life I long since learned to mute it.

While they shared the couch, he looked at me and said I'll help you finish folding. For some reason it excited me, yet I wasn't sure since someone else was there. I do remember asking, are you sure I should fold down here, I don't want to disturb. His answer was of the "there's no one here to bother us" ilk so I assumed my usual position across from him on the floor. I was aroused again while folding and having someone else there, who I inherently found appealing was a turn on as well.

Brent finishes up and leans back, and without missing a beat I reach into his shorts and start to give him head. I remember his friend saying "Christ, isn't that your wife's niece" yet there was never a move on anyone's part to stop me. It again became one of those defining moments where I remember his voice and can still hear the words: "Why don't you take care of our guest". I look up at Brent and he nods, and I slide over to the friend. I start to undo his belt and it's a "fuck, I can't believe this", he's hard so I know he's aroused and again doesn't stop me. It's at that moment that I learned there's such thing as "bad head" as he said, damn she's good. I feel Brent's finger at my ass so I bend over to accommodate. it's my first time with two cocks and I love it. When they've both finished, I simply get the laundry basket and leave.

Things at that point did change a little. I started to realize that sex was all I could think about. And probably the worst of it was about a month later when he had 5 others there and they were there for poker on a saturday morning. I remember bits and pieces. I remember feeling like an "object". I don't quite remember how it all ended. I did feel a little bit of shame. When I would see some of them out and about. I did wonder what they thought of me. They were all married, professionals in the community, and upstanding citizens, yet I always felt like just below the surface was an entire world of fun to be had if given the right environment.

With summer coming to a close, I had a difficult time adjusting to what I had been exposed to, not in a bad way, just again always wanting, yet feeling like I was wrong for thinking and wanting it. But I was able to throw myself into my studies, and go off to college. Things didn't quite "end" there with Brent. When I was home from school and there was time, I would take care of him. I also found myself knowingly making friends with other girls my age, not to be friendly, but so I could find ways to flirt and be around their dads.

Now, flash forward and wrap in all of the guilt, and mixed feelings and shame, and that's who I am and became. A cock slut with a complex, lol. Even the idea of swinging, it's appealing, but I can't quite get past the "strange men feeling me up" part of it. My husband is older by a few years and through my psychology classes I knew to tell him about my past. He was always so open that I felt I could tell him anything. I remember one of the first times I told him while we were dating and I could see he was aroused. He later asked if maybe we should explore things a little more, to help me gain control over the urges in a way that's constructive.

So we did join a type of swinging support group. 1 part sexual addicts anonymous, 2 parts when in Rome, do as the Romans do. It was during one of the swing club sessions that one of the older wives told me to follow her, that she had just the thing to help. - I had earlier told my story of how I did love sex, loved giving head, love taking it in the ass, yet felt "dirty" because of the way I was man handled by people I didn't know. - so she takes me towards the back of the club, and there were 5 other couples, and a hat in the middle. There were 5 booths behind them. first the ladies took a number from the hat, and she whispered to go into that booth and close the door. later i realized that then the men would draw a number, and shortly after, I noticed i was on my knees staring at a cock. I didn't know whose it was, but I instinctively knew what to do with it.

I again felt submissive, yet in control. It was my play toy, and I wasn't subject to thinking the whole time "who is this person". It was quite liberating. Afterwards we all met back up, and it was never discussed who had what number. I found it immensely appealing. For the first time ever I could compartmentalize loving cock, and leaving it there when i was done.

My husband consented to things and it was at that point I knew what I liked best. I remember asking him if he minded that I liked it. He said something to the idea that if it's lust and not love, who was he to argue with how I handled it.

Take that liberation, and alter it so it's done in a way that isn't so, well, random, and take note of previous inhibitions, and well - you've just shaped what i like, who i like, and why.

I will say this, because of what happened in my early years. I never felt threatened, or "abused", and I was at the age of thinking I knew what I wanted. I learned to love cock at an early age and I feel lucky that I've found a way to handle it without going off the deep end.

With this being super long, I'll wrap it up with simply saying the following: I think we all have things that we like and don't like, in people and in situations. A lot of which have shaped us to the very fiber of our being. The only thing that can be done is to respect the wishes of someone else if you are partaking in something they enjoy. We all have a choice on whether we move forward and act on it, or simply leave it to fantasy. I've shared something deeply intimate, that until now, only 2 or 3 people have ever heard. But again, I feel liberated, and I again feel like I was put here to take care of men who are otherwise happy in life, but needing a little extra attention. If you'd like to visit, I'd love to have you. I feel more comfortable in the invitation because now you share in the knowledge that it isn't "just a hole" - it's how a cock slut loses her complex... isn't it grand?

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