The Secret Life of Sabrina

By Ariel Bruhl

Sabrina is looking for something more. Her older husband Mason maybe successful, but he’s neglecting her badly, and Sabrina has always been a very sensual woman. So much so, an affair isn’t enough. She wants to push her sexual boundaries; do things she’s only read about in the filthier corners of the internet, or discussed in the more open-minded chatrooms. The question is: how far is Sabrina really willing to go; how naughty is she willing to get, as she embarks on her new and secret life?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ariel Bruhl
• Release date: Aug 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215018743

Ariel Bruhl

Hi! I’m Ariel Bruhl, Your Naughty Neighborhood Smut Writer with Tales to Excite & Provoke.I Hope You'll Enjoy All The Filthy Fantasies I Have on Offer Here.But Have a Care!Everything I Scribble is Definitely 18+, NSFW, & Designed to Get You Hot Under the Collar From the Start!

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Copyright © 2023 Ariel Bruhl

Smashwords Edition

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

All rights reserved.

All characters depicted in this publication are 18 years of age or older, are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

CONTENTS

MY FIRST GLORYHOLE

MY FIRST TIME DOGGING

MY FIRST EXPLICIT CAM SHOW

MY FIRST GLORYHOLE

The drive didn’t take long.

I put my Jeep in an out-of-the-way corner of the car park and slunk into the humid night.

The adult store, with its garish neon sign, looked just as I’d imagined it.

I locked the car, adjusted my coat, and headed to the entrance.

I’d never actually been inside an adult store before. I’d watched porn with previous boyfriends, of course, and wasn’t expected to be shocked. Nevertheless, I felt nervous as I found myself stepping into a long, narrow room with a low-ceiling, dim lighting, and crowded with rack upon rack of magazines and DVDs.

On the walls there were also shelves of sex-toys, and right at the end was a counter where a man, dressed in a black T-shirt, was glaring at a computer screen. He had to be in his early forties. His hair was greying, and he had a scraggly goatee.

He was the only other person in the store.

Hesitating for a second, I then started down the aisle, almost flushing with anticipation by the time I reached the counter.

The man finally and reluctantly tore his eyes from the computer screen, but when he looked at me, he perked up.

Evenin’, he said, scanning me quickly up and down, taking in my curvy figure, my thin, red summer dress, my red high heels. He seemed pleasantly surprised, which wasn’t much of a shock. He probably wasn’t used to seeing many women in the store – not the real thing, anyway. How can I help? Looking for something specific?

I swallowed. I knew the protocol, having discussed it in detail in the chatroom. But it took a second to get the words out. I’m…I’m looking for something special…

A faint frown skated across the man’s brow. Special?

"Yes. Something…of an experience. I’m told I can get it here."

Is that right?

"You can provide it, can’t you?" Suddenly I was worried that I’d been misled and I’d come all this way for nothing.

The man sniffed. His expression seemed skeptical. "You…sure you’re in the right place, darlin’? It’s just that…you strike me as the sort of girl who wouldn’t find much difficulty in attracting company."

"It’s not the company I need. It’s specifically what you have to offer. I want something…different. Something…salacious."

Is that so?

Yes. Am I in the right place?

The man licked his lips. Perhaps he thought I wouldn’t be up to it.

But then he shrugged. Okay. Suit yourself… he said, and he creaked back on his stool. We do singles or doubles. Everything is raw. But I run a clean business here. If you find things unmanageable, once you’re in the booth, there’s no refunds. Understand?

I felt my pussy twinge.

I do. Although, I wondered what he meant by ‘unmanageable’.

It’s up to you what you do in there. Use the equipment how you see fit. But we’re not liable for any mistakes either. Now…Paying by cash or card?

Cash…

I put my hand in my coat for my pocketbook.

Once I’d signed the waivers and settled up, the man rounded the counter and led the way.

There was a beaded curtain that led into a corridor lined with cubicle doors. He flicked a switch, and overhead lamps buzzed into life, shedding garish light.

He arrived at the furthest one, opened it, and gestured inside.

There you are. Take as long as you need. If there’s a problem, just holler…

Then he stepped around me, giving me a parting and appreciative look, before heading back the way he had come.

I watched him disappear through the curtain and turned to the threshold.

The booth inside was hardly larger than a toilet cubicle. There was a padded metal chair in the middle, a shelf at the back lined with plastic bottles and boxes wipes and tissues, and – the thing that arrested my attention most of all – a single hole cut into one wall.

A hole lined with tape.

My stomach tightened.

So, this was it, I thought, as I stepped into the booth, closing the door behind me – a gloryhole.

I’d never in a million years thought I’d ever be in the same vicinity as one. But my marriage with Mason had been so devoid of any sexual excitement lately, I’d been desperate to find some form of stimulation in my life.

Not just any kind of cheap thrill, either. I wanted to finally push the boundaries of my own sexuality; try things that Mason would never allow.

And this was my first step.

I turned and hung my coat on a hook on the back of the door. Then I moved to the chair, sitting down with my hands on my knees.

I was acutely conscious in that moment of how wet my pussy was. I edged my teeth on my bottom lip. Then I dropped my eyes to the gloryhole again.

I couldn’t see what was beyond it. It was too dark in whatever space was on the other side of the wall. And although