Unintended Consequences of the Lockdowns
Copyright© 2026 by duncan idaho
Chapter 26: Lilly’s First Time
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 26: Lilly’s First Time - Lilly was sheltered and a bit of loner before the lockdowns, but the lockdowns happened right during her formative sexual growth years. The time when teens get curious and start to experiment, start to date, have their first kiss. Instead Lilly was locked in a house with her parents who continued to see her as a small child.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Coercion Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Humiliation Rough Gang Bang Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration First Facial Oral Sex Pregnancy Voyeurism Water Sports AI Generated
The whole week it sat in my skull, heavy and persistent.
Did I want to do more than give blowjobs? The question followed me through every class, every meal, every night lying awake staring at the ceiling. My throat was fine now, strong, practiced, ready. But deeper than that, lower than that, something else was waking up.
Friday arrived. Dinner was lasagna.
My mother chattered about her garden. My father nodded along, his hand resting on hers in that casual way they had. At 8:15 he pushed back from the table, kissed my mother’s forehead, and said, “Ready?”
She smiled. “Ready.”
The front door clicked shut at 8:23. Their car started. Faded down the street.
I grabbed my keys.
The gas station across from Carl’s was busy. I pulled in near the edge of the lot and spotted my father’s sedan in the bookstore’s lot, dark and still. They were already inside. I crossed the street.
The bell jingled. Fluorescent buzz. That familiar smell.
Carl looked up from his magazine, and his face broke into that slow, knowing grin. “Megan. Good to see you.”
“Hi, Carl.”
He leaned back, eyes moving over me. “Gloryhole tonight? I’ve got a couple regulars who’ve been asking about you.”
My heart hammered. I opened my mouth. Before I could stop myself, the words blurted out: “I want to try something more tonight.”
Carl’s grin froze. His eyes went distant, unfocused. Dirty thoughts spinning behind them.
“Carl?”
Nothing. His fingers drummed on the counter.
“Carl?”
He blinked. Shook his head. “Sorry, what’d you say?”
I swallowed. “I’d like to use the gloryhole again. Is the same one available?”
His grin returned. “Saved it just for you. Back and to the left.”
I nodded and pushed through the beaded curtain.
The hallway was dim, red and green lights glowing. I found the familiar booth, middle, two doors, the hole at waist height. I stepped inside and pushed the door shut. The lock clicked.
I stripped quickly, but my fingers fumbled with the button of my jeans, clumsy and trembling. Shirt. Jeans. Bra. Panties. Each piece of fabric hit the bench with a soft thud, and with each layer that fell away, my breath came quicker. This is really happening.
I folded everything on the bench, my hands shaking, my skin prickling with goosebumps in the cool air of the booth. Then I dropped to my knees. Naked. Waiting. My heart was a wild drum against my ribs, a frantic mix of terror and a dark, pulsing thrill. A nervous laugh almost escaped my lips. I was terrified, yes, but beneath that fear was a current of pure, electric excitement, a heat that pooled low in my belly. My thighs trembled, not from cold, but from the sheer, dizzying anticipation of what was about to slide through that hole.
The fluorescent light buzzed.
Through the wall, I heard a door open and close. Footsteps. Then the shuffle of clothing, a zipper.
I pressed my lips close to the hole.
“I want to do something different tonight.”
Silence.
The words hung in the air, thick and impossible. My throat closed. My chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped their hands around my ribs and squeezed. The cold tile bit into my knees. The fluorescent light hummed. The silence stretched.
I heard him shift behind the wall. A breath. A pause.
And then my voice came out, not strong, not certain. Small. Trembling. A whisper so fragile it barely made it past my lips.
“Please ... I want you to take my virginity.”
My hands were shaking. I pressed them flat against my thighs, trying to steady myself, but my whole body was a knot of fear and want, tangled so tight I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. The words had escaped me, raw and naked as the rest of me, and now I could only wait, heart hammering, breath shallow, hoping he couldn’t hear how terrified I was.
On the other side of the wall, Carl froze.
His cock was in his hand, already hard, already pressed against the hole. But her words hit him like a slap.
Virginity.
The word echoed in his skull, bouncing off years of memories, other girls, other booths, other holes. None of them had ever said that. None of them had ever offered him something that raw, that untouched.
His hand tightened around his shaft. A bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip.
She doesn’t know it’s me.
The thought should have stopped him. Should have made him pull back, zip up, walk away. She was a kid. A regular. Someone who trusted him enough to come back.
But the darkness in him, the part that had kept this bookstore running for two decades, the part that had fucked countless strangers through this same hole, that part was already winning.
She wants it raw. She wants me to fill her.
His breath came shallow. His cock throbbed in his grip.
She’s asking for it. Begging for it. She doesn’t know who’s on the other end, and she doesn’t care.
He thought about her voice, that trembling, desperate whisper. The way she’d said please. The way she’d said virginity.
His jaw clenched.
I’m going to be the first one inside her. The only one. She’ll never forget this night. She’ll never forget the feeling of my cock splitting her open, my cum flooding her womb.
And she’ll never know it was me.
The silence stretched. I heard breathing—sharp, ragged—but no response.
“You still there?”
“Fuck.” The voice was rough, strained. “You’re sure about this?”
“Yes.”
“A condom?”
“No.” The word came out firm. “I don’t want one. I want to feel everything. I want you to unload inside me.”
On the other side of the wall, Carl’s hands were shaking.
He’d been doing this for twenty years. He’d fucked dozens of women through this hole, married ones, college girls, tourists passing through. But none of them had said that. None of them had asked him to take their virginity. Raw. No condom. Cramming his cum into a fresh, never-fucked cunt.
His cock was so hard it hurt. He pulled it out, and the head glistened with pre-cum in the dim light. Thick. Familiar. That deep purplish-red he’d pushed through this same hole three weeks ago when she’d begged him to fuck her throat.
She doesn’t know it’s me.
The thought made him harder. He pushed the head through the hole.
I heard it before I saw it. The soft thud of flesh against the hole’s rim. Then the cock pushed through.
Something tickled at the edge of my memory. But the heat between my legs drowned it out.
“Ready?” His voice was rough.
“Yes. Please.”
I turned around, pressing my hands against the wall, arching my back. The hole was at hip height. I positioned myself, feeling the cool air against my bare pussy lips.
The head pressed against me.
I gasped. The sensation was alien, the touch of something against that place, that private place I’d never shared with anyone. His cock nudged, slipped, found the entrance.
“Relax,” he grunted. “Just breathe.”
I tried. I really tried.
He pushed.
The stretch was like nothing I’d ever felt. A burning pressure that made my eyes water, my knuckles white against the wall. I whimpered, my body tensing, fighting the invasion.
“Easy,” he said, his voice softer now. “Take it slow.”
He held still, letting me adjust. The burning didn’t fade, but it settled. Became bearable.
“Okay,” I whispered. “More.”
He pushed deeper.
The stretch intensified. I felt myself opening around him, my virgin walls stretching to accommodate his thickness. He was halfway in now, and I could feel every ridge, every vein. The heat of his bare skin against mine.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re so tight.”
I couldn’t answer. My jaw was clenched, my breath coming in short gasps. The pain was sharp but underneath it, something else was building, a fullness I’d never imagined.
He pushed again.
The head breached something deep inside me. I cried out, a sharp gasp that echoed in the small booth. My body convulsed around him, gripping him like a fist.
“Shh,” he murmured. “I’m in. You did it.”
I was crying. I hadn’t noticed until I felt the tears on my cheeks. But I didn’t want him to stop.
“Fuck me,” I rasped. “Please. Fuck me.”
On the other side of the wall, Carl was losing his mind.
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