Holes (NUMB3RS, darkkwater, Charlie/various OCs, NC-17)
Okay, no idea where this one came from - the muse couldn't be kind and let me go work to Baseball Fever, could she...?
Title: Holes
Fandom: NUMB3RS
Pairing/characters: Charlie Eppes/various OCs
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Charlie has very particular needs, and knows how to get them met.
Word Count: 1172
Notes/Warnings: Anonymous sex
Beta: Yes, thanks.
Holes -
Charlie sat on his stool and waited for the next cock.
He checked the hole to make sure it was uncovered, signaling that he was inside the booth. He passed the time by laying odds on what sort of cock it would be - a dark brown David cock? Or a thick uncut Colby cock? How about a big-headed Don cock or a dusky, long Ian cock or a red-haired Coop cock? Not that it would be any of those men, of course. They wouldn't be at a discreet club, sticking their cocks through a hole for some unknown man to suck. He didn't even know what their cocks looked like, just imagined them. Maybe it would be an older Larry cock, or even a grey-haired Alan cock. Charlie loved them all. A barely-18 cock of one of his students, maybe. He always felt extra turned-on sucking those. But it would be horrible if it actually was his student, or any of those men. He would hate the drama, the concern. There would be earnest discussions and therapy sessions and the constant talking and hand-wringing.
He craved the callousness of the glory hole, even a nice hole like this one. He'd gone to many, many holes before finding this place. He'd sucked men through holes in dirty bathrooms, construction sites, and back halls of dance clubs. He'd bent over at holes in sex stores, locker rooms, and storage closets. Nothing compared to here, though. He was able to walk in at any time, day or night, and pay cash for a comfortable, clean booth. The place also had solid security and usually offered a steady stream of takers.
Charlie checked the hole again and shifted on his stool.
The men who came here for sex were all he desired. He wanted a man who didn't care if Charlie got off, didn't care if he slammed into Charlie too hard, didn't care if he bruised Charlie's mouth or ass. Charlie didn't like pain or discomfort, but he hated the coddling that was his daily life, how everyone treated him like a delicate child.
And anonymity, the booth promised glorious anonymity. He wore a half-face mask, but it was far beyond that. Here no one called him a genius or asked for him to be brilliant. All the other man wanted was a mouth or an ass and didn't care about IQ or awards. Charlie tried to be a good mouth or ass, sucked and squeezed when it seemed like the right time. But he didn't try very hard, that would have negated the value. He also was very careful to vary the times and days that he sat in this booth. The last thing he wanted was a regular customer.
He sat, idly calculating odds of cock types, and remembered he was scheduled to take Amita for dinner later that night. He liked being Amita's boyfriend, liked the pattern and certainty of it. Being with Amita was fun and comfortable, and even if she disgusted him in bed, he just took a pill to make sure his body performed and she never seemed to notice. Some might argue that he should 'come out,' tell the world that he had always preferred men. What would that change, though? Just a different set of potential partners who would adore his genius, treat him with amused indulgence, and secretly pity his shortcomings.
He didn't have to take a pill to get off here, though sometimes it took him a while. He hadn't figured out yet why he sometimes came with the first cock or sometimes it took more. One night it had taken him ten cocks, stroking himself through ten orgasms of other men, before he finally came. He had to admit, though, that that 10-cock orgasm had been one of the best he'd had here. Many more cocks were required to lay out his data set, calculate his variables. The math was just a side benefit, however, which was another pleasure of this place. He was able to not care about arousal factors, body types, positioning, rhythms. He just licked and sucked and stroked and came or didn't come. If he didn't come while engaged with the other man, he never finished himself off alone. He always made himself wait for the next man, no matter how much his cock ached.
Most of the time he gave blowjobs, but sometimes the other men asked for hand jobs or fucking. Any of the above was fine with him. If it was fucking, Charlie put his feet in the stirrups on the wall, bent over and gripped the hanging straps. The position held his ass tight to the wall, so the other man could fuck him as deep and hard as he wanted.
Charlie always did his part as the recipient by passing a condom through the opening. Sometimes the other man didn't put it on, which was strictly against the rules. Charlie never complained, though, feeling a strange Russian-roulette thrill when an unknown man pumped cum down his throat or came in his ass. Even if the other person didn't go bareback, Charlie often suggested that the condom come off at the end, so the man could orgasm on his face or on his body. He would make sure to hold his pose for the other man to see the cum dripping off his face mask or down his thighs. If a man did cum on him, Charlie would leave it there for the next man to see. He would only clean up when he was done himself and ready to head back to his car.
Finally, Charlie heard the door open in the booth next to him. He sat up on his stool and waited for the other man to look him over. He didn't look at the hole himself, didn't want to see even the eye of the other man. He never took his turn looking back through the hole. He knew most men liked it and he'd had men leave before when he didn't look back at them. Some men just wanted someone to watch them get themselves off. Charlie let them go and waited for the next one. He wasn't there to watch. He had no desire to see these men as anything other than a cock. He definitely never agreed to the men who begged to see him outside the booth.
Out of the corner of his eye, Charlie saw a finger push through the hole - the man had liked what he'd seen. Charlie leaned over and put his own finger through the hole, signaling his agreement to continue. He pushed a condom through, unlubed since the man hadn't asked to fuck him. While the man put on the condom, Charlie got down on his knees on the cushion. The cock soon slid through the hole - pale, big-headed, and promising to be huge when it got fully hard.
Charlie licked his lips, opened his mouth, and got ready to be used.
Title: Holes
Fandom: NUMB3RS
Pairing/characters: Charlie Eppes/various OCs
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Charlie has very particular needs, and knows how to get them met.
Word Count: 1172
Notes/Warnings: Anonymous sex
Beta: Yes, thanks.
Holes -
Charlie sat on his stool and waited for the next cock.
He checked the hole to make sure it was uncovered, signaling that he was inside the booth. He passed the time by laying odds on what sort of cock it would be - a dark brown David cock? Or a thick uncut Colby cock? How about a big-headed Don cock or a dusky, long Ian cock or a red-haired Coop cock? Not that it would be any of those men, of course. They wouldn't be at a discreet club, sticking their cocks through a hole for some unknown man to suck. He didn't even know what their cocks looked like, just imagined them. Maybe it would be an older Larry cock, or even a grey-haired Alan cock. Charlie loved them all. A barely-18 cock of one of his students, maybe. He always felt extra turned-on sucking those. But it would be horrible if it actually was his student, or any of those men. He would hate the drama, the concern. There would be earnest discussions and therapy sessions and the constant talking and hand-wringing.
He craved the callousness of the glory hole, even a nice hole like this one. He'd gone to many, many holes before finding this place. He'd sucked men through holes in dirty bathrooms, construction sites, and back halls of dance clubs. He'd bent over at holes in sex stores, locker rooms, and storage closets. Nothing compared to here, though. He was able to walk in at any time, day or night, and pay cash for a comfortable, clean booth. The place also had solid security and usually offered a steady stream of takers.
Charlie checked the hole again and shifted on his stool.
The men who came here for sex were all he desired. He wanted a man who didn't care if Charlie got off, didn't care if he slammed into Charlie too hard, didn't care if he bruised Charlie's mouth or ass. Charlie didn't like pain or discomfort, but he hated the coddling that was his daily life, how everyone treated him like a delicate child.
And anonymity, the booth promised glorious anonymity. He wore a half-face mask, but it was far beyond that. Here no one called him a genius or asked for him to be brilliant. All the other man wanted was a mouth or an ass and didn't care about IQ or awards. Charlie tried to be a good mouth or ass, sucked and squeezed when it seemed like the right time. But he didn't try very hard, that would have negated the value. He also was very careful to vary the times and days that he sat in this booth. The last thing he wanted was a regular customer.
He sat, idly calculating odds of cock types, and remembered he was scheduled to take Amita for dinner later that night. He liked being Amita's boyfriend, liked the pattern and certainty of it. Being with Amita was fun and comfortable, and even if she disgusted him in bed, he just took a pill to make sure his body performed and she never seemed to notice. Some might argue that he should 'come out,' tell the world that he had always preferred men. What would that change, though? Just a different set of potential partners who would adore his genius, treat him with amused indulgence, and secretly pity his shortcomings.
He didn't have to take a pill to get off here, though sometimes it took him a while. He hadn't figured out yet why he sometimes came with the first cock or sometimes it took more. One night it had taken him ten cocks, stroking himself through ten orgasms of other men, before he finally came. He had to admit, though, that that 10-cock orgasm had been one of the best he'd had here. Many more cocks were required to lay out his data set, calculate his variables. The math was just a side benefit, however, which was another pleasure of this place. He was able to not care about arousal factors, body types, positioning, rhythms. He just licked and sucked and stroked and came or didn't come. If he didn't come while engaged with the other man, he never finished himself off alone. He always made himself wait for the next man, no matter how much his cock ached.
Most of the time he gave blowjobs, but sometimes the other men asked for hand jobs or fucking. Any of the above was fine with him. If it was fucking, Charlie put his feet in the stirrups on the wall, bent over and gripped the hanging straps. The position held his ass tight to the wall, so the other man could fuck him as deep and hard as he wanted.
Charlie always did his part as the recipient by passing a condom through the opening. Sometimes the other man didn't put it on, which was strictly against the rules. Charlie never complained, though, feeling a strange Russian-roulette thrill when an unknown man pumped cum down his throat or came in his ass. Even if the other person didn't go bareback, Charlie often suggested that the condom come off at the end, so the man could orgasm on his face or on his body. He would make sure to hold his pose for the other man to see the cum dripping off his face mask or down his thighs. If a man did cum on him, Charlie would leave it there for the next man to see. He would only clean up when he was done himself and ready to head back to his car.
Finally, Charlie heard the door open in the booth next to him. He sat up on his stool and waited for the other man to look him over. He didn't look at the hole himself, didn't want to see even the eye of the other man. He never took his turn looking back through the hole. He knew most men liked it and he'd had men leave before when he didn't look back at them. Some men just wanted someone to watch them get themselves off. Charlie let them go and waited for the next one. He wasn't there to watch. He had no desire to see these men as anything other than a cock. He definitely never agreed to the men who begged to see him outside the booth.
Out of the corner of his eye, Charlie saw a finger push through the hole - the man had liked what he'd seen. Charlie leaned over and put his own finger through the hole, signaling his agreement to continue. He pushed a condom through, unlubed since the man hadn't asked to fuck him. While the man put on the condom, Charlie got down on his knees on the cushion. The cock soon slid through the hole - pale, big-headed, and promising to be huge when it got fully hard.
Charlie licked his lips, opened his mouth, and got ready to be used.