tagFetishThe Purpose of a Glory Hole

The Purpose of a Glory Hole

byDirtyMeStoryTime©

I started playing with glory holes when I was young. For all they knew, it was another guy, a grandma, or some other deviant. Little did they know who was really in there playing with the penis they stuck through a hole in the wall.

I remember how it all got started.

One day, we were taking a family trip to the mountains. Since the drive was long and had very few rest stops along the way, I ended up having to hold it more than once. At one stop, we pulled in to gas up and I needed to go very badly. When I walked over to the female restroom, I noticed it was halfway flooded. Since no one else seemed to have been around, I went to use the male restroom instead.

Upon entering, the stench rolled over me. I gagged slightly, but I could not hold it anymore. I felt like I was about to explode. I also realized I was not alone. There were three stalls, and two urinals, and the doors to two of the stalls were closed. The middle stall had a muffled slurping sounds, while heavy breathing was coming from the last stall, although I could hear the two people trying to muffle the sound.

I found myself a bit aroused, but at the same time, my bladder was keeping my mind focused on one task only.

I went to the first stall, pulled down my panties, lifted my skirt, and promptly started relieving the entire bottle of Pepsi I picked up at the last rest stop.

As I felt more relieved and the yellow flow slowed, the sounds from the next stall started entering my consciousness again.

I was a bit shocked, thinking they would leave once they heard that someone had intruded during their playtime, but it seemed they were still going, and if anything, were getting a bit louder.

Intrigued, and because my nose was already numbed to the stench by this point, I held off on flushing the toilet as I finished. I pulled up my panties and smoothed down my skirt, and then I slowly, carefully placed my feet on either side of the seat and stood up so I could see over the top of the stall next to me.

I was shocked, but not greatly, since I already suspected what was going on, to see one man on his knees in the stall, licking and slurping at a penis sticking through a hole.

The man giving the blow-job was older, in his early 40s, with black hair sprinkled liberally with grey. Nowhere near handsome, it appeared that he at least was very proficient in what he was doing to the other man.

The penis he was sucking seemed about average. It was 6" long, circumcised, and had no distinguishing marks.

My mind immediately gave the man giving the blow-job the name Bob, for obvious reasons.

Bob would take the member into his mouth and vigorously move his head back and forth. I was almost afraid he would suddenly smack his face against the stall wall, but he seemed to be able to judge his movements perfectly. He would occasionally remove the member from his mouth and lick it up and down, then gently press the tip of his tongue against the pee hole at the tip.

He would then put it back in his mouth and start moving up and down the shaft.

Watching him, I started to feel the heat build between my legs, as my pussy started watering. Licking my lips, I imagined myself down where Bob was, sucking and licking this stranger's penis that was sticking through a hole in the wall.

My hand moved slowly toward my panties, which were already starting to become wet with my own juices. I worked my fingers under the waistband and down the fur until they came in contact with my own throbbing area.

My eyes started losing focus and I rubbed on my clit, gently at first, then with increasing urgency. I moved my hand further into my panties and started working them into my now dripping pussy. It was very quick since I was already lubricated with my own juices.

Unfortunately, unlike Bob and the mysterious penis, I lost track of where I was and started moaning. Bob's head snapped up and looked right into my eyes. The penis on the other side disappeared to frantic zipping and the sound of running feet.

Bob, realizing that not only was someone there, but that the someone was looking right at him, slammed into the door, fumbling a bit in his panic before finally getting it open and running out the door.

While I still felt a bit of the thrill, I also felt a bit of the others panic myself. I quickly pulled my hand out of my panties and almost slipped and fell into the toilet where my pee was still yellowing the water.

I flushed quickly, washed, and left the bathroom feeling unsatisfied in one way, but with my brain thinking naughty thoughts that satisfied me in another way.

I passed my dad as he was getting ready to look for me. Good timing I guess in the end, because it could have been much worse if he had walked into the rest stop bathroom while I was masturbating and two men were busy exploring each other through a glory hole.

I kept thinking of myself in Bob's place, and started thinking of how exciting it was. Unfortunately, the more I thought, the wetter I got, and it was a long ways to anywhere I could change my increasingly wet panties.

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The rest stop bathroom got my mind racing.

See, I had always heard of glory holes, but honestly never thought of them. This put it first and foremost in my mind.

I knew the usual areas, you always hear whispers about gays going to the "bath house" or the adult video stores, but, as stated before, had never thought about them.

I checked around, especially where all the rumors said all the delicious, deviant activity took place, and eventually decided to go to this park I had heard about.

I wore a short skirt and my favorite sweater. They made a sexy combination, demure on top and a little slutty on bottom. The boys always seemed to drool over it.

I walked over to the men's side of the restrooms and took a look around. I was so nervous that it felt like my heart was about to explode.

Almost chickening out right then and there, I stuck my head in. Damn, what is it about men's public restrooms and the smell! I thought I might throw up before I could even go in.

After sticking my head in and seeing that no one was in there, I went inside and opened one of the stalls. There were only two stalls, but I noticed that it appeared the rumors were right. There, about waist level, was a hole.

However, it seemed no one else was in there, but what else would I expect.

After alternating between holding my nose, thoughts of "what the hell am I doing", and thoughts of Bob, I started getting used to the smell and, safely hidden behind the stall door, started getting turned on.

I slipped off my panties and started running my fingers through my soft pubic hair. Breathe quickening, I moved my hand lower and rubbed the outside of my pussy. Fear forgotten in a wash of desire, I imagined a penis poking through the hole, imagined myself getting on my knees to lick it, suck it, tease it with my hands and mouth.

Getting wetter and wetter, I moved my fingers inside my lips, caressing my clit and pushing my fingertips past the soft lips and inside slightly. I was now thoroughly wet, but had nothing with me in there to pleasure myself other than my own hands.

My vision glossing over, I lost myself in to the sensations of what my hands were doing, plunging my fingers deep within my pussy and vigorously rubbing my clit. My moans rose louder and louder without me realizing it, probably being heard by anyone near the restroom, but no one came in to investigate.

I left, feeling both relieved, and longing for more.

I tried a few more times, getting bolder, finding myself in this forbidden place, getting turned on by the sour smell of old pee and other aromas, but I kept failing to find a firm penis poking through the hole in the stall. A few times I saw people look in my direction, from a distance, as I exited the restroom, but never a willing participant entering.

I had almost given up hope of someone on the other side of the wall until one day, I decided to take a different course of action.

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So, after failing to find someone at the Glory Hole I knew about, I came up with a bold plan.

Some might call it foolhardy, some might call it dangerous, but I finally decided how I could ensure that I would get to pet a penis in a hole.

The parks in my home area were ok by day, but at night tended to be places most sensible people would not want to visit. Fortunately, no one ever accused me of being sensible.

At night, many beggars will sleep in the parks, sometimes they are used by prostitutes, and sometimes people will even try to use the restrooms to cook meth. This is why most of them lock the bathrooms down at night, to prevent this type of activity. However, the park I had selected was not locked down at night.

I "borrowed" my dad's handgun and went down to the park. Sitting in my car, parked along the street near the restroom, I watched to see if anyone came in or went out. I watched for scary individuals. A couple times I almost completely lost my nerve, but since it seemed that, much like how the "active glory hole" was over-hyped, so too was the nighttime park activities. That helped calm me down and think about why I was here.

I did see someone sleeping on one of the benches, but he did not seem to be moving, so I assumed they had either passed out, or were asleep. Who knows, I didn't go over to check.

Trying to overcome my fear and build up my courage, I removed my panties from under my skirt, put them in my purse, then got out of my car and went to sit at one of the tables. I flushed slightly as I parted my legs and hiked up my skirt so that any passerby could see my pussy. It was intoxicating at first, but since it was late at night, no one ever got to take a peek at my naughties. I played with myself a little bit, helping to push down the fear and increase my lust, under the trees and softly glowing streetlights that did not completely illuminate me.

Finally I saw a man go into the bathroom. He seemed a bit unsteady. Assuming he was drunk, or a homeless park dweller, my fear rose again and I almost chickened out. I stood up, patted my purse to remind myself that I could take care of myself, and then walked over to the restroom on legs that felt more like water than flesh, blood and bones.

I stuck my head in to see if he was in a stall or at one of the urinals. I could see the top of his head over the second stall, with the sound of a steady stream of pee coming from him. So, drunk or homeless? Did it matter? What was the purpose of a glory hole if not to be anonymous?

The smell, as normal, was a little overwhelming, but by now instead of being disgusted by it, I was turned on by it. However, there was a ranker odor than normal. Perhaps the other guy was homeless and had not bathed for a while. I again almost lost my nerve then and there, but pushed myself to move on since I was, after all, already in the men's bathroom and was so desperate to try this, at least once.

I quietly opened the first stall door and slipped inside. I had read that you were supposed to stick your finger through the hole and wiggle to signal that you were ready to engage in glory hole activity. I proceeded to stick my finger through the hole and wiggle it around. It took a couple minutes before the man in the next stall even noticed.

"What the hell?"

This was not going so well. Was I doing this wrong?

I thought maybe I was supposed to move my finger back and forth, like we do when we are in high school, symbolizing sex, so I tried it.

"Who is in there?!"

Hmm, again, this did not seem to be working. Then his eye appeared at the hole.

"What are you doing, get the fuck out of there!"

He stood up, trying to see me over the wall of the other stall. Since I was crouched near the hole, he was not able to see me. My throat had clamped shut, and I couldn't speak. Anyways, wouldn't that ruin the whole "could be another man, or grandma, or ..." part of the glory hole?

I took my panties out of my purse and held them up. I guess he knew it was a girl, judging by the panties and my slim arm holding them up, but I did not want him to see "me". Knowing that there is a girl in the next stall was one thing, having this person who's dick I was about to play with through a hole in the wall seeing my face was something completely different.

"What are you doing in there?"

His tone had calmed down, but he was really putting me off. It was either leave, which I really didn't want to do, since I did not want him to see me, or try to just stay against the wall, hiding, hoping he wouldn't try to climb over the wall, or get on with it. I was not sure I even wanted to get on with it, but it felt like I could not turn back now.

I tried to make my voice sound gruff, like how the girls trying to pretend to be guys do on TV. I doubt that it fooled him, but I also did not want him hearing my voice naturally. I was not even sure that I could do more than squeak, I was so scared by this point.

"You don't know what a glory hole is, idiot? Do you want me to suck your cock or not?"

I could hear him settling back on his heels, and then unzip his pants. I guess he was not completely brain-dead.

His penis appeared through the hole.

"Then get on with it bitch."

I moved closer to it, and as I got closer the smell of sour sweat and cheap booze overcame me. I threw up, right there on the floor. I looked back at the penis impatiently waiting for me and thought of just running, then and there. There was no way he could catch up with me, and if he tried anything, I had the handgun in my purse.

Instead, I found a wet wipe and wiped down what I could of his penis.

"What the hell are you doing?! You suck with your mouth, dumb whore!"

This really was not going well. Here I was, some drunk, reeking guy expecting me to suck him off while the floor of my stall was covered with my own puke. I heaved again, not bringing up anything since my stomach was now empty.

I slowly touched my tongue to the tip of his penis, lightly flicking it. It was too much, I couldn't do this. Instead, I started giving him a hand job. At first he protested.

"You are supposed to use your mouth, you filthy whore, not your hand."

Eventually, his protests subsided until he finally stopped protesting at all. I stroked his shaft up and down, pumping vigorously. Not wanting to do anything fancy, just jerk him off and get the hell out of there, I made short work of it. Soon he came all over my hand, leaving it all sticky. Pulling his rapidly softening penis out of the hole, he staggered out of his stall, out of the bathroom, and soon I was unable to hear him at all.

I hid there, not wanting to touch anything, wanting nothing more than a scalding hot shower to wash away his stink, his cum, his everything.

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After my experience with the last Glory Hole, I avoided parks, avoided anything that might even have a Glory Hole, and on the whole decided it may not be worth trying.

It took a couple of months, but the fantasy slowly crept back in. This time though, I decided to investigate multiple rumored places, and see the type of environment these places had.

I finally found one that actually did have people, albeit rarely. It was not full of bums, whores, and meth producers. It seemed the only people who ever went there, either for inserting penis into slot or servicing penis entered into slot, were guys, but the good part was, it seemed that it was pretty anonymous. No, I will not tell you where it is, but trust me, it is there.

I watched for a couple weeks how it operated, and once I felt comfortable that there was no chance of a repeat of my last attempt, I nerved myself to give it a try.

I removed my nail polish and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. I know there was no mistaking the fact that I was a girl, but I hoped that I could slip in while no one was around and give it a whirl without some outcry of "Straight girl, lynch her". I have an odd imagination...

I waited until no one was around and went into the building. While it was "officially" a public restroom, it did not seem to have the normal odors that I had come to expect from a public restroom. It smelled of pee of course, but not as strong, as if it was washed more often. It also had less graffiti on the walls, with less vulgarity in the few writings. It seemed I had hit the jackpot. This seemed to be an honest to goodness place for guys to experiment in complete anonymity.

Now, I knew about when people came, if anyone came, so I expected to wait. I took off my pants and slid my hand under the waistband of my panties. Down, down, down. I teased my clit and slipped my fingers inside, forgetting for a couple minutes where I was and moaning out loud. I had no chance to finish to climax because once I realized what I was doing, and where I was, I realized a female might not be overly welcome here. Guess there would be no "bend over and shove the penis into my pussy" moments from all those glory hole porns. I imagine the guy on the other side would be able to tell the difference between a pussy, ass, mouth and hand.

After spending over two hours sitting in that stall, with the sun already set, I began to think I picked a bad night. Maybe no one else would come in.

Getting impatient and bored, I thought about leaving over and over again.

"Just 5 more minutes."

"10 minutes then I am giving up."

"If I leave now, someone will probably come in right after."

It was a little over 2 and a half hours after I got in that someone finally showed.

I heard him enter the next stall. Worried that he might stick his finger through the hole first, which would have been awkward due to me not having a penis, I stuck mine in the hole and wiggled it around.

I could hear him undoing his belt buckle, then unzipping his pants, until I finally heard his pants hit the floor. He did not say a word the entire time, just proceeded to put his penis into the hole.

Finally, I could complete this fantasy.

I stared at it for a while. He was uncut, which, while it feels wonderful down below, is something that I have always avoided putting in my mouth. Sorry, I am not a smegma lover. However, just so you guys know, uncut sex is generally better. Catch 22, huh? Anyways, I did not want to spend forever waiting around for someone else, or getting the wrong "someone else" again, so I decided I would go for it.

I could see he was starting to shrink, probably because nothing was happening and his lust was ebbing, so decided it was time to start.

I pulled back his foreskin and started rubbing my finger around his head, around and around, very lightly. That got some reaction! Without the foreskin, his head was absolutely gorgeous.

Moving my finger up, I ran it along the length of the shaft and brought my mouth right next to his penis, at first blowing lightly on his now partially hidden head, all the while continuing to run my finger over first the top, then the bottom of his shaft.

My tongue flicked out, licking his pee hole very lightly with the very tip, then back into my mouth.

Licking my lips, I waited for a few more seconds, and then pressed the tip of my tongue harder against his pee hole. His shaft was now as hard as a rock.

Deciding that maybe it was time to do less teasing and more pleasing before he started to get suspicious or just decided to leave, I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and put my mouth over his head, pushing back his foreskin with my lips tight around him.

Swirling my tongue around his head and running it up and down his pee hole awarded me with a little pre-cum. Now I started sucking him harder, trying to turn that little bit of pre-cum into a full, milky faucet. Trying to suck the cum out of his scrotum. I wanted to suck it all out, treat him like a straw with delicious, milky white chocolate just waiting for me to get it out.

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byDirtyMeStoryTime© 4 comments/ 57840 views/ 27 favorites

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