Surprise at the Glory Hole

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of fictional incest or fictional incest content.

*****

The glaring, bright fluorescent lighting and faint smell of urine had been jarring the first time I walked in here several weeks ago. My bursting bladder had scarcely allowed me the time to even glance around threatening to erupt through the seal and cause me an embarrassing accident the moment I'd stepped through the threshold of the men's public toilets. I glanced around erratically until my eyes set on a toilet hiding just inside a cubicle a few feet in front of me. I dashed in, pulling my junk out and sighed as a long, heavy stream landed loudly into the shallow water of the toilet bowl in front of me. Only then could I begin to take in my surroundings.

The walls of the small cubicle had clearly been painted over numerous times, but still it was covered with graffiti; obscene drawings of dicks, and crude sketches of oral and anal sex surrounded me. By now I had stopped peeing and without noticing it, my dick was growing hard in my hand. What really took my breath away and caused my cock to become totally engorged in my hand is what I saw written all over the walls. It was like a phonebook with short messages scrawled beneath:

"Sucker here Saturdays"

"Will suck XL cock 567 894 9689"

The walls were awash with messages both offering and seeking sexual services. As my eyes passed over the crude images of variously sized, imposing phalluses, I felt an overwhelming sensation in my groin. I hurriedly rushed home and fantasised about what I had seen, jerking myself furiously on my bed while I still had the house to myself.

Over the coming days, I felt drawn to this obscure little building hidden away on a back road on the edge of the park between my home and high school. I had barely noticed it before, and now I purposely found myself taking this route home just to go there again and again. On the days I had nothing on, I would get out of school at 4pm, which gave me plenty of free-time before my dad would get home just after 5. I'd become fascinated with one particular comment in the furthest cubicle, which kept drawing me back to it.

"Good cock to drain - 4:30 weekdays"

It looked fresher than some of the other messages that had been half-heartedly scrubbed away. A roughly drawn arrow pointed messily, but inescapably down towards a hole in the partition. I might only be a high school senior, but I'd listened to enough locker room banter, and exaggerated adolescent fantasy to know what a glory hole was.

So far I had passed a few minutes before half4, and had yet to bump into anyone suspicious who might have left this intriguing message. I'd come back here daily, and with each new visit had just bottled it before daring to stay long enough. Behind the small building there was a mound of earth that marked the boundary of the park, part of the fence had been forced open and a path was worn into the hill as a shortcut over to the main road on the other side - I could climb up and save myself a good 10 minutes on the way home. I soon realised that in the bushes a few feet above the public toilet I also had the perfect lookout to watch over all the comings and goings to the men's toilets.

Over the next week or two, I hung around there hiding up at the top of the mound for a few minutes desperate to catch a glimpse of whoever the man was that would come by at 4:30 to avail of the glory hole. A few men came and went, but none seemed to take too long inside, except for one; a man, in his late 20s or early 30s with a scruffy beard and equally scruffy looking attire. His anorak covered his upper body, so as to mask what type of body he might be hiding underneath, and a worn-out pair of jogging bottoms which hung loosely from his hips. The fabric was so thin or worn that it allowed for a bulge in the front where I could only imagine what lay beneath.

I recognised him after his third or fourth visit to the toilets around the same time each visit. He didn't come every day, but when he was there he loitered around awkwardly before finally going inside and emerging a few minutes later wringing his hands. He wasn't at all a man I found attractive, in fact I thought he was pretty ugly, and yet crouching secretly high above a boner raged in my pants, consuming me and turning me on more than any fantasy I had ever had before. I tried to push myself to descend into the toilets, but the nervousness of what I had in mind caused me to tremble in anticipation, and I still hadn't dared to wait for him inside.

It was while I was crouching up above one day scanning the path leading up to the toilets, that I sat eyes upon a familiar figure marching strongly up the path. It took me a moment, but all of a sudden I realised with a shock that it was my father.

'Oh shit!' I gasped to myself, leaping up frantically.

I'd lost track of time, and I'd forgotten that he would walk through the park on his way home too. I jumped down the other side of the mound, relieved to gain those 10 minutes headstart and ran home to start the dinner. If the potatoes were not at least on to boil, I'd definitely be getting a swift spanking. Fortunately, I just closed the door on the oven as I heard him step inside the house. His footsteps neared the kitchen and his head popped around the door.

'Ready in half an hour!' I said as chirpily as I could.

'Hmm,' he grunted, 'I'm going to work out in the garage,' and with that he trotted off to get changed.

Since my mom had passed away, we had fallen into a pretty set routine; he went out to work early and I mostly took care of myself. He gave me an allowance to take care of myself and it was my job to make dinner during the week after school. He seemed to distract himself by working out - like clockwork when he came home he would hide away in the garage for hours sometimes, only coming out to slouch in front of the TV and drink a beer at the end of the day. He was what I would describe as gruff.

The weekends were the only time we really spent together, and even then it was him encouraging me to learn to workout with him, which I'd been doing now, on and off for the best part of two years. Gradually I was seeing a change in my body. Obviously I was reaching the end of puberty, but I still looked pretty young and boyish - so the deadlifts and squats were helping me to get toned and build some muscle. It was nothing compared to him though. Occasionally I would find my eye gliding over the ripples of his arms, inwardly impressed with the firmness and bulk of his muscles; he was definitely in a different league to any of the other dads of guys I saw in school. Maybe a few of the meathead football players would give him a run for his money, but secretly I felt pretty proud to have him as my dad.

Nonetheless, I couldn't help but notice his self-imposed exclusion. He didn't date, he socialised a little but only with a few guys that he had known since before I even came into this world, and we had no family close by. Jasper was such a small place that there weren't many prospects for him as a single dad anyway.

***

The next afternoon I was back at the same spot, watching over the entrance to the restrooms like a hawk surveying for prey. It wasn't long before the intriguing if somewhat odd looking man came walking up the path in his anorak. He loitered again by the door, looking around until finally for the first time he looked up and I froze. I caught his gaze and could do nothing but glare frozen in time. After a few moments of staring intently, he broke away and I watched as he disappeared into the toilets. After a momentary hesitation, I thought about going down and walking inside, but I could feel myself trembling from his stone-cold stare a seconds before. My dick was as hard as a rock, but I couldn't pluck up the courage, instead tumbling down the otherside of the mound clumsily and jogging back home.

The following day I was steeling myself to build up the confidence to go down into the toilets after him, but in the end he didn't turn up. I wasn't even sure what would play out if I did, but the writing on the wall was drawing me in. Each night after dinner I would find myself laying down on my bed - when dad had insisted I go finish my school work - dreaming up scenarios that could happen if one day I went into the cubicle. I longed to get my mouth around a beautiful cock and the thought of it easily made me shoot my load all over my chest.

**

This became a routine on any day after school that I didn't have swim practice or science club. The weather was warmer and warmer and it had now become a routine. It was coming to the end of the school year, and one Wednesday afternoon I was all ready for swiming practise - I'd been hanging around for a good 20 minutes when I finally noticed the sign up on the look room wall that Coach had cancelled the swim meet. Annoyed but also relieved to have the evening off, I set off home on my usual routine through the park.

Knowing that I wasn't expected home for another hour or so, I took my time enjoying the good weather and people watching as I walked. It wasn't long before I was peeling off the main path and towards the restrooms. As I started down that direction, who should walk out of the entrance to the mens' toilets in the distance but the man in the anorak. I could feel my heart begin to leap out of my mouth as we got closer and closer - I was tempted for a second, but realised it was too late to turn back to the main path. I kept my gaze low and unable to help myself, my eyes fell on to his crotch as I glared at the outline of his cock and balls which I could make out clearly through the thin, loose fabric of his joggers. He evidently was not a fan of wearing underwear.

When I was only a few yards from him, I managed to bring myself to look up and as we passed each other he looked me sharply in the eyes. My heart was beating out my chest, and the excitement and anxiety of the moment was giving me that familiar tingle in my pants as my cock began gradually to stiffen.

Without flinching or looking back I carried on walking and darted through the entrance to the toilets and hid myself in the far cubicle where this whole journey had begun. I sighed loudly catching my breath and then I swung around to close the door and lock it firmly. My cock was in full erection, but I was shaking in anticipation, not knowing what would happen. I sat down on the toilet and waited. I didn't dare take out my dick, afraid that the slighted stimulation would have me shooting my load immediately. I forced myself to take long deep breaths until - little by little - I managed to calm myself and my breathing returned to normal. I waited patiently wondering what - if anything - would happen.

A few minutes passed and I was wondering if I should unlock the cubicle and leave, when I finally heard his footsteps entering slowly into the restroom and moving closer towards me. My eyes were instinctively drawn to the message above the hole in the partition wall beside me.

"Good cock" I whispered to myself, as my heart started beating frantically once again.

The footsteps edged closer until I sensed that the man was standing directly in front of the cubicle I was occupying. I was frozen again, not daring to move until I involuntarily coughed clearing my throat loudly. With that I heard the man shift towards the cubicle next to me. As he stepped inside, the small glimmer of light that was coming through the gloryhole was obscured and I heard him close the door and bolt it. By now I thought my head might explode. I could no longer concentrate and the sound of my own heart pounding filled my ears. I sat patiently waiting until I sensed him moving towards the hole. I sighed heavily and my eyes opened wide in disbelief as I saw the tip of his cock appear through the glory hole.

Although I have watched plenty of porn, and seen my fair share of impressive endowments being in the swim team, the cock - already engorged - coming inch by inch through the hole in the wall was of another order. In the seconds it took for him to push his body up against the wall and to expose himself fully and anonymously to me, his dick had already grown to its full potential. And it was truly eye-watering. My own cock was on the larger size, but this was a safe 9 to 10 inches, with the girth to match. It was a beautiful cream colour, leading up to a perfectly light pink throbbing cockhead that complemented the thickness of the shaft excellently.

Trying to steady my arm from trembling I reached forward and wrapped my hand around it. Or at least I tried. Fully enclosed, my fingers could not touch around this heavy pole. For the first few moments, I could do nothing but stare and drink in this beautiful looking specimen.

This could be in the art books! I thought to myself. Who'd have thought that odd-looking man in his anorak was hiding such a magnificent tool.

Without thinking - as if it was innate to my behaviour - I found myself leaning forward, mouth open wide, taking the head of this large phallus onto my lips. All I knew of sucking dick was what I had seen online, but my desire was strong enough that I didn't feel the slightest hesitation once I felt the softness of the glans rubbing against my tongue. I wrapped my lips around it and massaged his cockhead with my tongue as I allowed my head to slide up and down on this long rod. It wasn't long before I realised that I couldn't only get about half of this mammoth meat into my mouth. For one the wall caused a major issue and the angle I was sitting in didn't make it any easier, but otherwise the sheer girth was too wide for me to open my mouth to accommodate it.

After a few minutes of this, I found it was easier and more enjoyable for us both if I focussed my mouth on pleasuring his throbbing mushroom head and used my hand to jerk off the heavy shaft. So I continued for the next 10 minutes or so, completely oblivious to anything that was going on around me. It was only when I heard a loud grunt and deep moan that I realised he was coming close to orgasm, and right then I felt the squirt hit the back of my throat and I tasted a mouthful of jizz on my tongue. It took me by surprise and I immediately pulled myself off his cock as it continued to spasm in front of me and two more jets of thick sperm were shot towards me landing on the front of my shorts. I coughed as I felt the sticky sweet juice in the back of my throat and began to feel that nervous anxiety come over me again. Before he had even pulled his dick out of the glory hole I lurched forward, unbolted the cubicle door and leapt out, heading for the door. I scaled the mound and within seconds was out on the main road, walking casually as if nothing had happened. As I jogged along I could feel the slobber around my mouth and running down my chin, I rubbed my face clean on my sleeve before I arrived home. I hadn't even looked back.

The house was still empty when I got in, so I scooted straight up to my room and lay down on my bed. I reached down to my underwear and I could feel right away that I'd been so turned on, that I'd been oozing copious amounts of pre-cum. That night I could think about nothing else, and finally couldn't help but jerk myself off to the memory of such a stunning phallus that was now seared on my brain. When finally I came, I don't think he had ever shot such a huge load in my life.

****

The following two days this man plagued my thoughts. I wondered who he was and what he did here - for such a small town, I had never seen him around except the few times I observed him loitering close to the restrooms. I could barely concentrate in class, desperate to get out and go back to re-live such a horny experience. Both afternoons after class I walked back through the park - only now I had the courage to march straight inside the toilets, rather than going up to the top of the mound to look out. I knew my spot - the farthest cubicle at the back. The one with the glory hole. Both days I waited and yet nobody came. I tried to remember which days I had seen the anorak man, but I hadn't really been paying attention to him before.

If only I'd known what I knew now! I thought to myself.

On the second day back after sucking that incredible cock, it was Friday afternoon and I was growing impatient looking at my watch realising I would have to leave shortly to get home before dad, when I suddenly realised something. The message on the wall above the glory hole was written pretty shabbily - it didn't say "weekdays", it said "Wednesdays!"

'Ooooh fuck,' I sighed to myself loudly, chuckling. Now it made sense.

I grabbed my bag and hotfooted it out the door to get home for dinner. The whole time I had a smile on my face like I had finally cracked the code. That evening I was able to get back into my routine of school work, but in the back of my mind I was already wondering how I could get out of my swim practise the following week.

***

Saturdays and Sundays, dad and I usually spent some time together - it was him who insisted I did swimming and on the weekends I joined him for at least an hour to work out in the mornings. The weekend afternoons were the only free time he allowed me, so I would usually just head out to hang with friends - or being a bit of a loner at times - I was happy reading or listening to music alone.

My dad - he went by 'Mac' - was pretty strict and seemed to have gotten stricter since my mom passed. Initially I resented him for this but as I fell into the routine of life over the past few years it had all kind of become second nature to me. I'd even started to enjoy the workouts that we did together. I had begun to see a slow but steady change in my body that many of my friends were envious of. Sometimes on those Saturday and Sunday mornings I would watch my dad, impressed at how much weight he could shift and look on in awe as the sweat glistened on his pumped up pecs and shoulder muscles. I wondered if I'd ever manage to achieve the same aesthetic. We had similar temperaments, but otherwise I was much more like my mom. I looked more like her too, especially with my hair that I kept long the past year or so. I pretty much always kept it tied back though and everyone seemed to think it suited me.

The time we spent together had also enabled us to build a comfortable rapport, being at ease in each other's company despite not having much to talk about or much else in common. I always dreaded the day he would ask me about girls, yet that day never came. Maybe he had sussed me out, but I could never quite tell.

***

The next Wednesday couldn't roll around quick enough. On Monday, I had found myself loitering for a few minutes at the toilets and even up on the mound, but there was no sign of the man with the anorak and his large, healthy appendage. I decided it wasn't worth hanging around and potentially getting myself in trouble, I would just have to wait until Wednesday. In preparation I went to see Coach on Tuesday and started laying the groundwork for my absence from training the following day.

'I think it's my hamstring again,' I complained, limping as I walked alongside him.

'Let me guess, Mac's been pushing you too hard again,' he said, laughing loudly.

I just grinned along in agreement. Coach had known dad for years, and I could only hope they didn't bump into each other any time soon.

'You'd better take the next three weeks, you need to be in shape before the summer when competitions start again!' I smiled inwardly, pleased at how easy it was to wriggle out of practice.

The following morning, I took my kit with me - just to avoid any suspicion. I was distracted again all day; I couldn't get the image of that oversized 10-inch cock out of my mind. I couldn't wait to taste it again.