tagLoving WivesGlory Hole Party

Glory Hole Party


As a couple who have been married for over twenty years but never found time to socialize much, Janie and I didn't know quite what to expect when we were invited to a housewarming party by the new neighbors down the street and told to bring only "a large cardboard packing box." Not to disappoint our hosts—the wife is a co-worker of Janie's—I found one at a moving company. Unfolded, it was big enough to hold a grand piano.

Nan and Clint, our new neighbors and hosts for the evening, greeted us at the door. It was difficult to ignore Nan's tight slacks and filmy, see-through top. She was not wearing a bra, and her breasts, while rather small for my taste, were there for all to see. I think Janie began having second thoughts at that point, but she took pains not to show it.

After the introductions, Clint seemed disappointed that I appeared to have come empty-handed. He brightened considerably when I told him the box was folded up in the back of the SUV. He graciously consented to help me carry it in. To my puzzlement, he unfolded it in the living room, leaving the ends unfastened for what looked like a makeshift door. He worked eagerly, like a kid building a play fort on a rainy day.

Several guests had already arrived. Drinks had flown liberally by that point, I could tell; many singles and couples were mingling already, standing too close to one another, voices a bit louder than you might encounter in a cold-sober group, and yet for all the frivolity everyone seemed to me a bit nervous.

A well-built man of about thirty-five, dressed in a blue suit and with a swarthy look about him the color of his jacket, approached us before we had hardly entered the living room. He touched Janie's elbow with intimacy and said in a foreign accent I couldn't quite place, "You are the loveliest woman here." He said it without preamble, with me standing there, and added, "I hope we will meet when we once again become strangers to one another." I pondered that one.

Janie didn't jerk her elbow away, although she is quite conservative and not at all physically demonstrative as a rule. She even took his hand and held it for a count of five while she looked into his eyes and said awkwardly, "Charmed, I'm sure." I noticed she was studiously ignoring the hard-core porn playing on the big-screen LCD TV.

Curiously, another guest had been asked to bring an industrial-size roll of clear plastic film, which Clint proceeded to roll out in strips five feet wide and ten feet long, placing each strip around the perimeter of the box. Then to my utter befuddlement he produced a box cutter and began cutting out holes about two inches in diameter at intervals of three feet or so all around the box, each hole a little less than waist high. There were eight holes when he had finished. None of the other guests seemed to show the slightest interest in what Clint was doing.

With me so far? Looking back, I can't believe I could have been so naïve as not to recognize the final preparations for a glory hole party. When Nan brought in a tray draped with blindfolds, it all started to come together for me.

"We can leave," I whispered to Janie, "if you like."

"Why should we leave now? That'd be rude," Janie said.

I figured she still hadn't caught on and was expecting an innocent party game, so I told her, "You know what they're planning on doing, don't you?"

Janie shrugged. "That's part of the surprise, isn't it?" If she was still playing dumb she was a world-class actress. I considered our situation. If we left now, Clint and Nan would probably be insulted or amused at our prudishness, as would all the other guests. I rationalized that we could always leave later, if Janie balked once she discovered what the others had in mind.

"All right, everyone drink up, it's almost game time. Can I freshen anyone's drink? Need a little Dutch courage, anyone?" This from Nan. "Now, does each of you have his or her blindfolds on?" she called out a few minutes later. "Good. Now we might as well dim down the lights. Nobody can see anyway. Here are the rules: when you feel me taking your hand, go with me. Nobody is to speak once we get started because you might give your identity away. I'll lead you into position one by one. The men will stand where I place you, and the ladies will kneel where I place you. After that, you all know what to do."

"I'm still confused," Janie said, raising her hand in the dimness. "Nobody's told us what to do yet."

General laughter, gradually subsiding. Nan said, "It's kind of like musical chairs, only for adults. Clint will play sexy music, and when it stops each lady moves a few feet to the right, kneels down again and starts in right where she left off."

"I still don't get it."

"Janie, when you get there, just do what comes naturally, dear." More laughter. "And by the way, ladies," Nan advised, "everybody's blindfolded, so feel free to remove those tops of yours and perhaps those bottoms as well; depending on how juicy things get tonight you may want to save on your dry cleaning bills. Are things going to get juicy tonight, guys?"

All the men roared with excitement. Moments later I felt Nan's soft hand taking mine. She gently led me across the room. I could hear the rustle of the door to the box. She put her other hand on my hip and turned me until I must have been facing up against one inside wall of the box. I leaned forward a few inches and felt cardboard.

Then Nan did something I hadn't expected. She undid my belt, unzipped my fly and slipped my pants down around my ankles. She did the same thing with my shorts, allowing her fingertips to glide along my shaft in a lingering fashion that could not have been anything but intentional. Before leaving to guide the next player into place, Nan kneeled and bestowed a slow, open-mouthed kiss on the head of my cock, then threaded it through the hole.

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