The partition
The shop can have me tomorrow. Tonight the arcade door checked every ID before the latch shut behind us, mine included, and I walked the dim hall in my chambray shirt with the bun still neat. I stood beside the plain partition and liked how little the wood needed from me. A man knocked the first slot. I asked his age. He said guess, and then he said he did not give numbers to women on the other side of a wall. I told him I wanted a number over twenty-one or nothing. He told me to relax. I closed that slot and left it closed. My cunt does not open for a man who will not speak plain.
The next three did it the way I require. Thirty. Forty-four. Twenty-seven. Each voice said the number clear before I slid anything open. No names. I did not ask. I wanted cock, and I wanted my fingers in my cunt, and I wanted to decide who got to finish where. I knelt on the pad I bring. The first cock came through the slot, thick, already hard. I licked the head and took his cock into my mouth, one hand on the shaft so I set the depth, the other hand down my trousers. My cunt was slick. I fucked myself on two fingers while I sucked his cock, slow, then meaner, chambray stuck to my back.
He swelled on my tongue. I pulled off and told the wall to finish in his own fist. I was not done with my mouth. The forty-four-year-old pushed a heavier cock through, a vein under my tongue, and I sucked that cock like I had all night and also like I might leave in a minute. I came the first time with my mouth full, a wet sound I did not tidy, cunt gripping my fingers. He groaned. I kept sucking until my thighs quit shaking, then I sent him to his fist too. I wanted the last one on my face.
Twenty-seven knocked twice before I had to ask. We had already set that signal: two knocks means the wider slot, my face, if I still want it. I knocked twice back. I wanted it. I opened the panel far enough to see a stomach and a cock and nothing I could hang a name on. I knelt up, aimed him, and said stroke that cock and cum on my face. He did. Cum hit my mouth and my cheek, hot, and I held still for it with my fingers buried in my cunt, fucking myself through a smaller second orgasm while it dripped. I wiped with the cloth I had brought, folded the wet side in, and shut every slot. Watches in the morning. Tonight my cunt was still pulsing and three men had done the only thing I asked, which was give me a number and then let me use their cocks.
