Surprise at the Glory Hole Pt. 02

That night I waited silently in my room. For the first hour at least, I lay in shock on my bed, unable to process what had happened, but also anxious about what would happen when dad returned home. Every noise made me shudder as I listened out for the familiar sound of the front door opening, of dad stepping inside and dropping his work bag down in the hallway. I waited and waited and yet the sound never came. Still I didn't dare leave my room to go down and eat. I was hungry, but what would I do if he landed home the moment I walked down to the kitchen? I literally had no idea what I was going to say to him. How on Earth could I justify what I'd done; sucking my own father's cock in a public restroom?

At some point during the early hours of the morning, I must finally have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing I knew my alarm was buzzing loudly and the sun was glaring through a crack in the curtains. I had only a few milliseconds of peace before the image of my father's angry face came rushing back to the forefront of my mind. I cringed to myself in shame and utter embarrassment. It was already 8 am, I had to get on my way to school. Thankful for small graces, I knew the house would be empty since dad always left by 7:30 at the latest. I jumped under the shower and just had enough time to grab some breakfast.

On the countertop in the kitchen, I immediately noticed something out of the ordinary; the box of oats was out on the side with the empty pan and wooden spoon - all ready to prepare. I'd never seen that done before. As I stepped cautiously across the room I noticed a scrap of paper; there was a note scribbled on it in pen.

'Don't forget to eat breakfast - dad x'

I stared at it for a few seconds, then my eyes shot around the room and I listened silently - that 'x', was it a kiss?! He definitely wasn't here, but he had been here. Was this a peace-offering, his way of apologising? If it was meant to put me at ease, it didn't. I set about cooking the oats, and threw all the dishes into the sink after I finished eating. At this rate I was going to be late for school. The rest of the day in class I kept getting flashbacks to the previous day; the moment I stepped out of the cubicle and saw the alarmed look on my father's face. Any time I thought about it, I could feel myself blushing as if the room was 100 degrees. Occasionally though I let my mind wander and the image of my father's oversized schlong flashed into my mind.

Why did he sign the note with a kiss? He had never done that before. Is he worried he's upset me? What does it mean?

The thoughts ran through my mind the whole day and I couldn't concentrate for even a minute. Staying in class was pointless, so I told the teacher I wasn't feeling well and I went to hang around at the lunch benches by the football field. Gradually I came to the conclusion that I would have no choice but to return home that evening and face the music. If he was angry then so be it - the deed was done, and neither of us could take it back. Besides - what the hell was he doing there? Was he that lonely? I guess he had needs like any man - but why in the men's toilet?

On the walk home through the park, I took a path that took me a longer way home, first around a small lake and above all nowhere near the toilets. I couldn't face the thought of being close to them. Arriving home, I started dinner with my eyes firmly on the clock; acutely aware that dad was due home any minute now. Everything was nicely on the boil, when I heard the front door open. My body froze and I couldn't take another breath, I could feel the anxiety coursing through my body. He dropped his stuff down in the hall and then his footsteps began to get unmistakably closer, until the kitchen door creaked open slowly and he popped his head around the door. I looked over towards him sheepishly and he looked at me with an expression that was impossible to read. We held this awkward stare for a few - seemingly eternal - seconds.

'It'll be ready in half an hour!' I said, forcing myself to sound as natural and chirpy as I usually would. An almost imperceptible grin passed momentarily across his face.

'Hmmm,' he grunted as he always did, 'I'll be working out.' With that he disappeared and I heard his footsteps drift off in the direction of the garage.

I let out a huge sigh. All of the emotions I had been holding in were released; anger, fear, humiliation and above all embarrassment. I was by no means out of the woods, but I felt a massive sense of relief and that a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Maybe we would just never talk about what happened - could we just let it be something that happened and not bring it up? Either way, I wouldn't be the one to bring it up. Later that evening, I served up dinner and we sat through an awkward meal with some stilted and forced conversation. I was relieved by the time we finished and dad offered to do the washing up.

'You head up to your room - I'm sure you have school work to finish,' he said, warmly. I darted out the kitchen and up to my room as soon as he gave me the green light.

***

The following day followed much the same pattern; seemingly we were just going back to our routines and neither of us would ever bring up what had happened in the men's toilet only two days before again. The next morning it was Saturday and if I thought I was going to get out of our weekend workout, I was wrong; over breakfast, dad explained what he had planned for today's session. I cleared the table and we headed into the garage to begin. It was getting warmer, but it wasn't quite summer yet, nonetheless dad did something unusual. As he closed the door to the garage, I watched as he crossed his arms over his body, grabbed his t-shirt at the bottom in each hand and pulled it off over his head. He was standing in only his gym shorts. He never worked out topless, so I waited a moment - expecting him to grab another t-shirt or a tank top or something to put over his head - but he just went over and sat on the bench.

'Come on - I'm doing chest. You need to focus more on legs - you've been neglecting recently.' He said nonchalantly as if his totally bare torso was entirely normal.

Over the next hour or so we worked out side by side, as he encouraged me to begin some warm-up squats and then directed me how much weights and how many sets I should be doing, forever pushing me to improve my performance. As I gasped and moaned, I couldn't help but watch him out of the corner of my eye as he did his incline bench presses, with his pecs full to bursting and sweat running down his lightly-haired torso. Occasionally, as I took breaks between my sets getting my breath, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander down his torso to settle on the noticeable bulge in the front of his gym shorts. I had never focused on it before, and yet now I knew it was hiding such a hefty piece of meat, it seemed to be obscenely large and impossible to ignore. On at least two occasions, I caught myself staring and was swift to divert my eyes upwards, awkwardly catching my father's eye-line so that he could have no doubt about where my gaze had been transfixed. Worse still, I could feel that familiar sensation in my own groin, causing the front of my shorts to be fuller than usual too. After the workout I trotted off to get showered and rather ashamedly I relieved myself under the shower. As soon as I came, I felt a wave of guilt wash over me - what was I doing?

That afternoon, dad went out as he often did at the weekend, and I stayed home to read. I needed time to myself to reflect, at least I really wasn't in the mood to see anyone.

The next day was the same routine; Dad and I worked out together and once again, he was inhabitually shirtless. I tried not to pass any remarks but as we exercised and I paced around the small space to recover between sets, my eyes landed again and again on the prominent bulge in his crotch. I found myself wanting to say out loud what we both knew was true. "I sucked your dick!" and "I swallowed your cum!" Where was this urge coming from - and for my own father? There was something wrong with me. I was sure he sensed how conflicted and strange I was acting. Of course, in the end I said nothing and finished the workout mostly in silence, only his comments on my technique breaking the tension in the air for a few short seconds at a time.

By Monday, we were back into our regular routine with my anonymous blowjobs an almost distant memory. By Tuesday I expected to never speak of the topic again. I thought perhaps it would be something we might work through in 10 years time, when I had moved out or brought home my first boyfriend, or even if he finally found a girlfriend. That evening we sat down to dinner as usual, I asked him about his day and he did the same. Neither of us had anything of much interest to report, the tension between us was still not totally gone but I sensed things were getting better. That is, until he haplessly threw in a grenade.

'Are you going to swim practice tomorrow?' he asked.

It seemed like such an innocuous question and yet I immediately read between the lines. What was he asking me exactly though? He couldn't be asking me if I would be at the glory hole - could he?

'Of course, I already got my stuff ready,' I shot back after a moment, nodding towards my swim bag in the corner of the room that was all packed for the following day.

'Good,' he said. 'I don't want you going to those toilets - you hear me?'

My eyes must have been popping out of my head and I could feel my face glowing bright red. I couldn't even bring myself to open my mouth.

'Mmm hmm,' I mumbled, nodding my head in agreement. I stood and began clearing the table. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole, but this was all I could do to get myself out of this situation as quickly as possible.

'And...how many times have you done that?' he asked expressionless, looking up at me from the table.

'Only with you!' I blurted out frantically, feeling like I was confessing something terrible to him. 'That was the first time. The only times I did it was with you...but I didn't know...'

I didn't know what else to say, I couldn't justify it. I didn't want to justify it. It was just an urge I had that needed scratching. In a way I understood why he was there too; the same overpowering desire that sometimes just needs to be satisfied. He didn't say anything to this, but he looked relieved and I felt relieved too. I wanted him to know that I hadn't done that with any old stranger - even if that might have been my intention. I carried on clearing the table, feeling happier now that the air was cleared a bit between us. I finished up and pushed the chair under the table to go up stairs to do my school work. But as I turned to leave the room he asked me something else that took me aback.

'Would you want to do that for me again?' he asked clearly and pointedly, so that there was no way I could duck, ignore or even misinterpret the question.

I froze on the spot. I know what I wanted to answer. His magnificent cock had been on my mind constantly for the past month - ever since the afternoon I first laid eyes on it in the glory hole. The weight of it in my hands and the aroma on my tongue, I would have loved to feel and taste it one more time. But this was my father. Could I really tell him I wanted to suck his cock. I took a deep breath and looked over at him, trying to suppress my nerves.

'Yes I would,' I said softly but firmly, immediately regretting the words as they left my lips. Neither of us spoke for a moment.

'Go on - you've got homework to finish,' he finally said, leaving me even more at a loss and devastated with my confession. I closed my eyes tightly and walked out past him, running up the stairs to my room.

'WHY OH WHY did I just admit that?' I scolded myself, burying my head in my pillow.

****

That night I slept terribly, and the next morning when I got up dad was still at home; this was pretty unusual but not unheard of. He explained that he took the day off to run some errands - given the fact we were still walking on eggshells around one another, I decided it was best not to quiz him on it. In class I was agitated and still unable to concentrate; the very last thing I wanted to do was go to swim practice, but I knew I had no other choice. I certainly couldn't rock up home early and I wouldn't be going anywhere near the park any more - I didn't even want to think about what would happen if I bumped into dad there on a day I was supposed to be at practice. So I went to practice and I was surprised to find that it helped take my mind off the past few days. I walked home slowly, feeling like I had almost put myself back in the same situation of a few days ago; dreading seeing dad again, not knowing how he might react.

Finally when I got back, dinner was ready and we ate together, chatting only to discuss the day's events. Maybe things would be fine, despite what I had said the previous evening. As I got up to clear the table, dad changed the subject abruptly.

'I make something for you today,' he said, looking at me rather calmly. '...in the closet. In case you want to use it...' he went on mysteriously. I wasn't really sure I understood what he was talking about and for some reason I sensed I shouldn't ask.

'...well if you want to use it. It's up to you...or not...whatever you feel like. Just knock on...' he said, seeming a little sheepish himself now, 'just knock'.

Then he stood up from the table and grabbed a beer from the fridge, heading over to plop himself in front of the TV. I carried on clearing up none the wiser. As soon as I finished I went up to my room and - with the curiosity now overwhelming me - I headed straight for the closet in my room. Considering dad was a single parent and worked a pretty menial job, we had plenty of space at home, and one of the things I loved most about our house was that I had a big room, with a large double bed, and my own walk-in closet. It lay between my room and my dad's room, and it was just about enough of a buffer to cover up his snoring. Just about, but not quite. I swung open the door and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness as I stepped inside. Half-expecting there to be some kind of gift wrapped up in the middle of the closest, I ended up a little disappointed and bewildered. I scanned around and still couldn't see anything. I put out my arm and walked forward until I felt the opposite wall. Fumbling about, I felt around blindly for the lamp which was stuck somewhere on the wall. As I pushed on it, it illuminated the small room in a warm-yellow glow. I immediately saw what dad was talking about.

On the wall along from the lamp there was a new instalment. It had some kind of material covering it from the other side, but I could clearly see that a hole had been cut out of the wall. I stared at it for a moment in disbelief. It was at the perfect height, and it was the ideal size too; it could only be a glory hole. I tilted my head back to listen for a moment; the sound of the TV was still whirring in the sitting room down below. Knowing the coast was clear, I slowly knelt down to inspect this alien object in my closet. Crouching down beside the wall, the hole was exactly at my face height, on either side I saw that he had installed handles which I could grasp onto at two different levels; one set lower down and another set higher up almost at the level of the hole. I brought my arm up and put my hand to the padded edges of the hole. A heavy, dark material covered the hole from the other side of the wall, but I could easily push it to one side and reveal a clear view into my dad's bedroom. I was looking directly at the side of his bed. I fell backwards onto myself and let the fabric drop back to cover over the hole again. I was honestly astonished. At length, I pushed the lamp again to switch it off and crawled back to my room.

Over the next couple of hours, I tried to distract myself enough to focus on my homework, but it was no good. I kept going back to open the closet door to double check inside. 'Just knock' I repeated to myself over and over. By the time 10 p.m. rolled around, I had done no work and had really not come to terms with what was going on with dad. Nonetheless, like clockwork I knew what was coming; I heard the sound of the TV stop and his footsteps on the stairs as he made his way up to his room. The bathroom light went on and off and his door closed over as the light on the landing went out. Usually he would knock lightly on my door shouting 'night, night' before turning in, but tonight he passed by without a word. I knew his routine like the back of my hand; in less than 10 minutes he would be snoring loudly.

I waited anxiously with butterflies in my stomach. I knew what I wanted to do, but the thought of it alone made me tremble nervously. It was one thing to have accidentally sucked off my own dad, it was another to choose to do it willingly. That would be opening the door to something that there would be no coming back from...ever. I sat frozen on my bed, not wanting to lie down and not daring to move from the spot. 10:30 p.m. came and went on the clock and still I didn't hear any snoring. By 10:45 p.m., I'd convinced myself that dad was waiting up for me, and yet still I didn't have the courage to move. I told myself I had to move by 11 p.m. or just go to sleep. Finally at 10:59 p.m. when I still couldn't hear any snoring; I forced myself to stand up and walk towards the closet. I peeled open the door and getting down on all fours, I crawled over to the glory hole. My arm was weak, but I brought it up to the wall and I tapped lightly three times on the wall. I inhaled deeply and held my breath. For a couple of seconds there was no sound at all, but then - to my relief - I heard movement on the other side of the wall. I reached up and turned on the lamp as the material was pulled to the side. I exhaled loudly as my father's cock entered through the glory hole.

The hole he had made in the wall was not only wider than the one in the toilet cubicle, it was also more elongated, meaning that there was not only space for his whole cock to easily slide through, but his balls also hung freely now in front of my face. For anyone who grew up in a small-town countryside like me, it was not unreasonable to make the comparison with a pair of prize bull balls. They were both large and they hung low from his cock. Seeing his cock and balls together took my breath away. He dick was still flaccid - perhaps he was nervous too - yet the girth and length were incredibly imposing. When I reached up and lifted his warm meat into the palm of my hand it immediately began to swell and stiffen. Holding it up, I leaned forward and took a sniff of his balls, burying my nose deeply into his crotch and his ball sack. His masculine aroma was intoxicating, and I could even get the now familiar scent of his pre-cum. I brought my other hand up and massaged his balls gently, while he moaned with approval.

I spent a few minutes sniffing, licking and sucking gently on his balls before I could no longer resist the main prize. I let go of his dick and let it bounce lightly in front of my face. In this new, spacious glory hole, it was all the more impressive. I leaned forward and took my dad's cock head into my mouth, letting it slide in as deeply as I could. It soon hit the back of my throat, and so I allowed it to slide in and out as the gland passed over my tongue. I sensed my father was enjoying it, as he was thrusting very lightly back and forth towards the hole as I used my tongue to play with the swollen tip of his dick. Now that I could see the entirety of his dick, I used my hand to jerk the shaft gently and realised just how thick his dick was at the base. It was easily comparable to holding a large can of coke in my hand. As I continued bobbing up and down on his dick it jabbed the back of my throat and made me cough and retch momentarily. This went on for 20 minutes or so, before his moaning intensified, and I intentionally began picking up the pace. I was sure what was coming. When his moaning crescendoed I knew the best thing to do was to stop jerking and hold my mouth tightly closed around his large mushroom bell-end. With a loud grunt he started cumming. I felt him unload every jet right into my mouth, I swallowed hard and after 5-6 squirts I was pleased to have not let a single drop go to waste.