Adventure 00: Glory in the Glory-Holes (Random Smut, No Plot!)

00a - Preamble

Captain Jeanette du Bourbon Rosette. A rather fancy-pants name, isn’t it? ❤ There’s nothing to worry about. Everybody’s the same in here.

Perhaps the upcoming débutante of a noble family and obligated to a soul-crushing marriage.

Maybe instead a bona-fide sailor-come-adventurer, listlessly visiting one exotic port locale after the next in a hunt for an evasive treasure~*!

Devilish or divine. Depraved minx or devout moralist. None of it really mattered once inside The Booth.

Situated somewhere that is most assuredly absolutely-nowhere, a single, small room awaited with nary a feature much on offer. No chair. No windows. Merely four plain walls almost entirely barren, save for a single door that was almost entirely too large for the cupboard shaped room it swings into. The room was seclusion. A sanctuary away from all of the troubles of the world, except for a single conspicuously placed hole - pitch-dark and impossible to peek through.

The Booth is centre stage of an adventure that leads absolutely nowhere. An absurdest hideaway in where the only thing matters is what peeks itself inside, whether by the door, or by the hole. One has to bring their own chair. And tissues, or towel. Entertainment can be left by the wayside. The Booth provides an all-inclusive deal;

Always serving, leave clothes by the door~*

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With a soft click~* of the door behind her, a foxy young redhead escapes from the trials and tribulations of every-day life and absorbs herself within a suffocating silence instead. With nothing really to look at nor anything to listen to, the promiscuously petite woman had only herself to admire, but such was something she might get to in… oh… just a minute, say~* ❤ This is a first, y’know? A devilishly exciting thrill!

Arriving almost entirely buck-bare, the mischievous runt had wandered naked nigh every step of her trip slipping through back-alley streets - a winding labyrinthine tour through the least visited pathways. More than a few eyes had stopped to stare, and their every gaze was one of judgement. Judging her for a madness. Judging her for a sin. ❤ Judging whether it’s worth the effort of following her for a while…~

What saved some fake aspect of modesty for her were a pair of pumpkin-orange, smoky-black thigh-highs! Socks tailored together from freshly plucked cotton, abundantly soft and adoringly snug, clinging so tightly to the seductively svelte legs beneath. Now that she’s inside, a set of importantly unimportant boots were kicked free, primly pushed aside. Unfashionable, their one purpose had been served. ❤ They might be remembered when she leaves again!

*~❤

Without a chair brought nor around to claim, Bourbon willingly risks kneeling. The thick and heady scent of arousal both pent and spent invaded the vixen’s senses to the point of mingling with her excitement, the conjoining aroma of lust working quickly to overpower raw nerves. As Bourbon lowered to accept, with dignity, her self prescribed duty, she denied letting her hands merely dither about. They’re roaming across details that for her true partner, would hardly much matter, but… ❤ The small, prim redhead couldn't quite get past the notion that, in fact, she’s sat centre-stage before an awaiting audience, waiting to see what she can do…~*

Bringing the ominous, pitch-black hole (like a void, almost) to eye-level, Bourbon strings together a tittering-laugh, every breathy syllable tense. She could not see a single thing from the other side. No whisper of a sound, either. Impeccable silence paired with perfect isolation and the only interruption to both would be through this very same hole. How dreadfully exciting! Bourbon puffs another gasp through the rounded gap, her breath misty-hot and wet.

From the other side, the view was simple. A hole through another wall, soon primed with a perverted promise! A pair of prettily-painted, glossy-pink lips, they part ways to allow another shade of pink poke itself through and lay itself out flat with an inviting wiggle! Curling at the very tip with a little flex, just in-case a stranger’s already there. The naughty thing lays in wait as Bourbon presses herself up against the wall from behind.

❤~As the redhead lie in wait, unknowing of how long it might take before she’s treated to a taste…~

Bourbon guides a delicate hand in a sweeping caress along her own body to blindly cop a feel. Working with the paint of her own imagination, she paints herself a scene of a woman, all alone, tucked within a too-tiny cupboard somewhere in which not a single soul would ever know her name. A bona-fide short-stack of girl-next-door proportions, this enigmatic entity’s favourite motto was decoratively embroidered beneath the canvas of her imagination that it can act as a title;

❤~The Best Things Cum In Small Packages~❤

Proudly, Bourbon cups a swift squeeze of her own tits, gripping her fingers so firmly, they sink into the pillow-y excess of her full breasts. With arching spine, she pushes the glorious globes into the wall, pressing more tightly by the second! When the pressure’s too deep within her chest - as it forces another gasp to flutter past her lips - the little vixen’s swaying back and wriggling to settle between her haunches. Composure and decorum, even in isolation! When her fingers dip and delve their way lower, she wants to at least pretend she has some manner of propriety about her. ❤ Even if it was doomed to never last.

Traversing the smooth, slim plains of a trim-tucked tummy, Bourbon could feel her pride swell just a teeny-tiny bit - don’t blame the narcissist too dearly for loving herself. ❤ She really had a fantastic body~!

Admiring the already motherly swell of orotund hips, strictly packed up tight with very little excess to spare, Bourbon quickly comes to squeeze into her own peachy posterior. Fingertips nip in tight with a naughty nick along satin-soft skin, sinking into the supple curves until she can spare the grip that begins to spread her bottom wide, and wider. ❤ Like that, Audience? Lean in close to admire the wink of a virginal star~!

*~❤ Knock-Knock. There’s a visitor!

Bourbon’s heart skips a beat and suddenly she’s performance shy! Anxiety slowly inches her back from the hole, but she was back within a second. She curls her toes up so-tightly as to hurt, just a tiny bit, whilst fingers gingerly steeple against the wall, propped up in support when the redhead’s ready to push her lips back to the hole again. ❤ Which she does, post-haste!

Unable to encompass the hole with her lips, the little redhead’s slipping her tongue through again, laying out her invitation! Could they see her through there? She hadn't a clue! Didn't know the slightest thing of how any of this worked whatsoever~!

Didn't matter, the redhead’s ready for her first guest!

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