(There is the usual disclaimer of safety of Self and Health. Protect yourself in the way that fits your lifestyle. Condoms are not unusual at Glory Holes so don’t feel self-conscious if it is something you prefer.)
It’s no secret how much I love sucking cock. Eating cum. And, most especially, having fun with a Big Black Cock. So when I came across this image, I took it as a sign to write about one of my favorite times at the Glory Holes.
I’d gotten to know the owner of the bookstore and had gone in there several times (many times!) with my friends, most of them gay. She had a well-stocked showroom filled with quality sex toys, a variety of sexy/slutty clothes that no other stores carried and an enormous array of magazines to buy and videos to rent or buy. Mind you, this was before the Internet, so folks got almost all of their goodies from bookstores.
This one night, I’d gone in alone. I brought a large soda with me in a cup, with lots of ice (bloody hot in Florida, of course) and was just going to plop myself behind the counter with my friend and chitty-chat about our lives and the goings on about town.
For a Tuesday night, the place was packed! I shuffled in with a couple other folks and took a moment to orient myself as I looked at, easily, two dozen people filtered throughout the store. Where did they all come from?! My friend saw me and called me over, seeing my confused look on my face and, as she never stopped ringing up sales (a new dildo here, a sissy video there), she said, “Can you believe this?! The concert at the arena got cancelled and I guess everyone said, ‘Let’s go home and fuck!'” I laughed.
And then HE came in the door.
This man towered over everyone. Easily 6’6″. I felt my cunt open just imagining what was in those jeans he was wearing. He wandered around, touching some things… picking up others. My eyes never left his body; I was eye-stalking him.
I watched as this gloriously huge black man threaded his way through the aisles, moving deeper in… and further from me. I could still see his bobbing head above the racks and shelves, but he would soon vanish into the video room if I didn’t get up and follow him.
So I did.
I was dressed sloppily in a short, white tank top with a pair of old jeans, hole in one knee. I had flip flops on. No make-up, my hair in a ponytail. I caught my image in a mirror and groaned. So not fit for a date! I quickly took the rubber band off that was holding my hair back… letting my waist-length hair loose. I bent over, shaking my head to get my hair as fluffy as I could without a brush. I looked in the mirror again. Noted I was at least tanned, having been at the beach most of the day. I shrugged and looked around to find that yummy man. Where had he gone?
When I couldn’t find him in the video tape room, I knew exactly where he’d gone to.
The Glory Holes.
Hidden in the back of many adult bookstores (even now!), is a (usually) ramshackle, poorly built row of cubicles. It’s incredibly dim back there; lights are not a priority. Inside the tiny rooms, there used to be a low platform on which to sit. Now, however, they mostly have toilets (no lids, of course). They are often really filthy places, cum and toilet paper on the sticky concrete floor. The scent of eroticism, however, lingers heavily in the air.
And then The Hole. You can see a good-sized round cut in the drywall, opening a path to the next tiny cubicle.
Sound carries. You hear grunts, groans and the echoes of lust being satisfied. Most people close the doors, but some folks are incredible exhibitionists and leave the door open.
Single women are pretty rare in the Glory Hole area. Het couples venture in, usually on a drunken dare when a husband discloses he has a fantasy about sucking cock. I always wonder what went on once that couple goes home and sobers up; hot fucking? Or a massive argument.
Glory Hole Etiquette
But, I’ve been there many times. I am pretty comfortable with Glory Hole etiquette. Wander through. See something you like? Go next door and squat or kneel down and wait for the cock to slip through the hole in the wall. Then begin. For those not giving a shit about what cock they suck, they just go into a room, close the door and wait for a cock to poke itself through the wall. Want to get fucked? Do one of two things: either pull your pants down and shove your ass up against the hole or leave your door open and bend over the toilet, waiting for someone to come fuck you.
If it sounds base, perverted and trashy… you are correct. But this is a kink for plenty of people, myself included. Remember, Your Kink Is Not My Kink But Your Kink Is Okay. If this isn’t your cuppa tea, stop reading now and move on to something that is more your style! But please, keep your judgements to yourself!
I spotted the lovely black giant slipping into a room and his door slowly closed (they don’t lock or even click closed most of the time). Happily, the room next to him was empty and I stepped right in. My breath quickened and I was already salivating imagining him in my mouth. I adjusted my jeans so I could kneel down fairly comfortably and, as a last thought, unbuttoned the fly, showing my thong panties to the wall. I felt the filthy floor through the hole in the knee of the jeans, but didn’t care one whit.
And I waited.
I licked my lips, visualizing his cock coming towards my mouth through the hole.
And then, there it was, advancing (finally!) through the hole. I felt my heart beating fast and hard.
He wasn’t totally hard yet, but I could take care of that. What made me blink was the thickness of this slab of beef he was serving me. Ropes of veins mapped the shaft; I couldn’t wait to feel them pulse with my tongue. I’m sure I slurped up saliva anticipating putting this gorgeous black dick into my mouth.
I leaned forward and began.
That cock and I danced with each other. Bouncing back and forth. The thickness growing, those veins swelling.
My own cunt reacted to the pleasure between my stretched lips.
I serviced this man as he used me for his pleasure.
We were a wonderful play of yin/yang Energy between us, each of us striving for ultimate pleasure. Hedonism at its finest.
This man had some fucking stamina. My knees went numb, my legs and feet fell asleep… and still I bobbed back and forth with that massive thickness in my mouth. I could feel lockjaw setting in and slobber dripping down my face and chin. But the hell if I was going to stop before my reward.
And then I could tell. He became more insistent, pushing faster. (I struggled to keep up!) Every fifth shove, I felt myself gag a little, he was pushing in so deeply. And. Those. Veins. I swear I felt them pulsating with my tongue. I could just see their mechanics of filling the shaft with blood, hardening the cock even more. I so wanted to reach through the wall and grab his balls in my hand and squeeze the tightness I knew was there.
The shudder that precedes the flood of cum took control of his dick. For some cock-suckers, it is a nuance often missed. I wait for it. Anticipate it. Almost beg for it with my being.
My clit was dancing, my panties sopping wet as his rush of cum began spurting into my mouth. No, actually, the first explosion shot deep down my throat. I hardly had to even swallow it went so far back. The following streams filled my mouth. I gulped each surge. Even still, I felt some seeping through my tight lips, dripping down my chin. (I would take care of that momentarily.)
Before I knew it, the spent black cock withdrew from my side and vanished into the darkness. I stayed on my knees for a moment because I was worried I might stumble if I got up too quickly. But I heard him leaving his room and I wanted to see him (breaching all sex shop protocol!!!)… look in his eyes… remember that face. I jumped up and my head swirled with lightheadedness., but I grabbed for the door to open it, just as he had passed, his back to me. I eeked out a “Thank you,” and he turned, looking right at me. His face registered confusion at first, then a slow smile of recognition (that I was a woman) washed over him. He then gave me a slight nod, turned and walked out the curtain back into the light of the store.
I sat up on the short platform, pushed my jeans down around my ankles and masturbated. Door open. A couple of men watching as they stroked. Once I came, I pulled my britches up, brushed past the two guys at the door, wended my way through the store, into my car and took myself home.
I masturbated again.