Little sis at the gloryhole

“So how does it taste?”

“It tastes like crap,” Ruby blurted out smugly as she scarfed down a slice of lemon meringue with an exaggerated wince on her face.

She still held onto that ch!ldlike honesty but mixed it with teenage sarcasm. I expected to hear that from her as she munched on the homecoming cake I purchased last minute for her. Had I known Ruby was coming back home today, I would have had time to fix her up something better rather than buy one at a gas station along the way to the airport.

“It’s gross and bitter,” she continued to mock both me and the cake.

I had always looked out for my little half-s!ster Ruby. I tried to play the protective older br0ther despite us being so different. Ruby was a full generation younger than I, and she looked like a complete different ethnicity from me altogether. We barely looked like we belonged in the same country let alone the same fam!ly.

After divorcing my mother after a long and arduous 25 year marriage, Ruby was the result of our reckless father messing around with a less than desirable Asian woman who bailed shortly after her birth. Then again, most residents were less than desirable in this unscrupulous town of ours. Our hometown once garnered the moniker of diamond in the rough as developers and businesses rushed in to create the next American metropolis. However, businesses deteriorated as quickly as they started, turning lofty highrises into empty shells while robbing the current residents of any respectable careers. My father was a product of his environment where blue collared men typically sought to escape their downtrodden realities through bad habits, i!!egal substances and loose used women in these crudely renovated establishments.

Ruby, however, always personified the complete opposite of our town. She was always so young and innocent, completely oblivious to the dark and debaucherous establishments that our town essentially thrived on. I held on to this illusion of her so tightly that she had grown to reach her teens without me even realizing it. Here I was thinking of what cabbage patch doll to get for this little girl who had already started high school. So while I tried to play the role model, it was easy to see that we grew up knowing very little about each other despite being within the same household.

The extent to which she had grown didn’t hit me until she left the summer for a study abroad program in Europe. What little advice I would offer her was always about taking school seriously and getting far away from our town before it dragged her down. She took my advice and worked diligently toward an opportunity her school offered to just a few select students to travel overseas for early school credit.

This was the first time we had spent any significant time apart, and when she finally returned, it was as if she was a completely different person to me. Physically, she still looked like the same little girl to me. Her hair was jet black and short, just down to her shoulders but usually pinned up asymmetrically in a pair of messy pigtail buns. Her eyes carried that distinguished oriental curve but were still large and prominent amidst her small flat button nose and snow white skin of her face. Her body was petite and tight, void of any fat or curves with legs completely straight but toned. I doubt she had even reached 5′ in height yet. Topped off by a new set of braces on her teeth and you’d swear she were 4 years younger than all of her high school classmates who were clearly long past their struggles with puberty.

However, where she differed from the little girl I had known was in her new demeanor. While she maintained a degree of her old smartass immaturity, she now talked with a lot more confidence, probably from her seasoned experiences on a whole different continent. She was quite proud of her study abroad, flashing a smile from ear to ear that displayed her braces as if she were still living overseas. Ruby seemed bolder and more willing to try new things she would not have tried before. She rambled on and on during her impromptu homecoming gathering, but unfortunately I had made some desperate plans of my own that I needed to fulfill.

If I had even known she were to arrive back home that day, I wouldn’t have made some risqué plans of my own. I’ll be honest, I was becoming like the men of this neighborhood, using the remaining “businesses” to escape the depression of the town. Murray’s Tavern had become a secret favorite of mine where I could sample the countless stalls for shameless women willing to suck me off through a duct-taped hole for a nominal fee. I found it both ironic and appropriate that this former ritzy restaurant on the ground floor of an abandoned white collar office building became the best immoral service for us lesser patrons. The tavern itself had the sprawling floor area and lavish decor of its previous affluent eating establishment, clumsily painted over to look more like an old sports bar. The gigantic male and female restrooms behind the tavern, which used to serve four floors of affluent businessmen and women, were joined together by sledgehammering the wall that separated them, allowing their collection of toilet stalls to run almost endlessly together. These seemingly infinite rows of stalls had been converted into a cheap blowjob emporium where the dozens of bathroom stalls provided the perfect setting for glory holes.

As much as Ruby wanted to continue telling me more stories of her time overseas, I couldn’t escape my urge to have my knob polished by a mystery woman from an adjacent stall.

“Sorry, Ruby but I have some matters I must tend to,” I blurted out in the middle of her story.

“What matters?” she questioned, upset with the notion of me leaving.

“Just some plans at the tavern.”

“Can I come?” she pleaded.

I laughed at her request as well as the thought of how shocking it would be for my innocent little s!ster to discover what went on at this place.

“You’re not even old enough to drive let alone drink.”

“Oh come one, every crappy bar in this town is so desperate for a buck, they’d let toddlers in for some whiskey,” she continued to beg.

She did have a point. I thought for a moment how I could get away with this, but I figured as long as she could stay away from the bathrooms behind the tavern, she’d never know what truly went on there. We could continue our talks, and I could escape for a quick 5 minute blowjob at any time. Maybe even two.

“Oh what the heck. Why not,” I submitted to her incessant nagging. Ruby was going to see this shady part of town sooner or later. Her first time may as well be around me to watch over her. So she tagged along, still wearing her tiny summer shorts, graphic tee and flipflops she came home with from the airport.

–

When we finally arrived at Murray’s Tavern, I noticed that it was relatively busy. However, even at the most populated of nights, it was easy to find isolated seating away from other patrons as the bar boasted an impressive floor area as a former major restaurant. We found a table and some high stools to anchor ourselves for the evening, and I quickly shot out an order for drinks and food. Ruby seemed quite excited, and luckily naive, to what I believed to be her first bar experience. Her feet, still wearing the same pink flipflops she wore around the house, swung happily from under the stool. I could see the twinkle from her braces as her lips parted for another big cheesy smile of hers. The bartender brought over some greasy salty appetizers and two pints of light beers without even so much of a request for ID.

After just a few sips of beer, you could see her skin beginning to turn flush. Ruby’s speeches became more frenetic as her tipsiness began to affect her memory and focus. As much as I wanted to hear more of her stories (I really didn’t), I finally excused myself to take the opportunity to get what I really came here for. On the way to the restroom, I tried to pay the bartender in one swift motion as if to guise any suspicious behavior.

–

Upon entering the restroom, I could already hear the echos of men grunting and groaning from both directions. Thanks to the sloppy construction that demolished the wall which separated male and female restrooms, the long row of toilet stalls stretched from one end of the building to the other in one long almost continuous sequence of modular blowjob booths. I made a left toward the former women’s restroom as it had no urinals and more stalls and therefore more working girls. Every other door had a scribbled number on it to denote which stall belonged to which working woman.

Knowing that I had a sibling waiting for me back at the bar, I decided to pick a stall that was closest to the entrance in slight haste. A brief peek under the row of stained plastic doors revealed only one pair of feet within the first few clusters of stalls. The ink from the number 9 on the door had either begun to fade or simply blended with the grime and stains of the plastic. A cloud of smoke sailed from the stall as the woman leisurely puffed on a cigarette in between sessions with her johns. This woman would do.

I rushed into the adjacent stall, and locked the door behind me. I slipped my fingers through the cutout in the left divider to signal that I was ready. My gesture was reciprocated as the woman in the next stall stuck two fingers through the hole, curling them upward as if to invite me through. I wrestled to undo my belt and pants before freeing my cock and slipping it through the glory hole.

There was a slight pause before I felt her fingers clutch my flesh. She started slow, using the pads of her fingers to stroke my soft cock. As bl00d coursed into my member, I felt the full clasp of her palm around my penis as she had begun jerking me off with circular rubs.

“Suck on it,” I calmly ordered through the wall, careful not to sound rude in my hurry.

Fortunately, the woman followed as ordered, kneeling in front of the wall that separated us until I could see her legs resting through the gap under the plastic divider. Her short skirt revealed her fairly broad thighs and scarred knees, giving me the impression of a chubby seasoned veteran in public blowjobs. I heard the woman take one last deep inhale of her still-lit cigarette before blowing its dark smoke onto my protruding cock, warming it in the process as its black fume flowed through the hole and into my side of the stall. Then came the warm wet engulf of my rod as her mouth descended all the way to the base of my dick.

It felt so good.

This working girl seemed as eager as me, creating a strong suction within her mouth as if she wanted to literally consume my offering. She sucked slow, but strong, swiping her tongue along the sensitive veiny underside of my shaft with each long drawn-out motion of her mouth. I could hear her hum with delight as she relished the taste of my cock through the hole in the wall.

After the initial power sucking, she paused for a moment with the very tip of my cock’s head pursed delicately between her lips.