The (glory) Hole Story

I was only 15 when my first encounter with a glory hole initiated me into a world of illicit free sex with anonymous men. It was an experience that excited me and terrified me in equal amounts.

Opposite the bus station in the town where I went to school there was a Victorian town hall that had toilets underneath it. The way in was through a tiled doorway and down some stone steps. They were dark and not particularly clean with a trough against one wall, a stall of two cubicles with heavy wooden doors and a separate small room with wash basins.

I had been in from time to time and read with wide-eyed interest the explicit graffiti on the walls of the stalls. Requests for cock, references to rimming, TV’s and sucking illustrated with crude drawings of hard cocks and open mouths with spunk splashing into them. It was fascinating as, although I rarely saw anyone else in there, it was clear other people went there looking for more than just a dump. And then there was the hole in the wall between the two cubicles. It was perfectly round and to this day I have no idea how it was made. About 2 inches in diameter and at waist height, it allowed a view of the floor next door and, if you bent a little, you could see the seat of the toilet bowl too.

I was careful to make sure none of my school friends saw me going in there and I would make excuses to catch different buses, staying back after school, accidentally taking longer than was necessary to gather my books together, telling them I was meeting different friends. I would go down those damp dark steps, take in the smell of urine, detergent and testosterone, sit in a cubicle, undo my zip and attend to my erection.

Once when I went in, someone was in the next cubicle but the hole was stuffed with toilet paper so I felt safe. I had my trousers down and was slowly pulling back my foreskin when the paper was pulled away. My heart stopped beating for a second and then I rushed to pull up my trousers and get out of there as quickly as I could. I was shocked, horrified even, who was at the other side of the wall and why did they remove the toilet paper?

I mentioned it to my dad, who told a family friend who was a policeman. They said they knew about it and that I should not to go back there.

The next time I went there was someone in the second stall but there was no toilet paper in the hole. I took down my trousers and sat on the toilet. It wasn’t long before a finger was wiggling through the hole. I sat back on the seat, looking down at the hole from the corner of my eye. Then I heard whispering. I wondered what they wanted. I bent down to the hole, “What?” I asked. “Stick your thing through the hole” came the reply.

“What?” I asked again.
“Stick your thing through the hole so I can suck it.”

Honestly I was shocked. I was shocked at the blatancy of it and the boldness of his request. I sat back on the seat. I had an erection but I wasn’t ready to stick it through the hole. Maybe he’d be happy if I just let him see me wank I thought to myself. Which is what I did. But as I rubbed myself I looked at the hole to see a huge cock stuck through it. It was red and hot looking but even now I remember it as beautiful, fully erect, it curved slightly upwards, it’s head swollen with a tight foreskin slightly rolled back to reveal the head and the jap’s eye with a bead of clear liquid glistening out of it.

I closed my eyes to shut out the image or maybe because of surprise or fear or disbelief, I’m not sure and then I came. A thick load that I caught in my foreskin and then squeezed out, allowing it to splatter on the grubby tiled floor.

But then as I pulled up my trousers the cock vanished back through the hole and I could hear movement next to me, then, before I could escape, he opened his cubicle door and knocked on mine. I froze. I didn’t expect this. I’d let him watch me wank, what did he want now?

After hesitating I opened the door to my stall and he was there. Probably 5’ 8”/5’ 9” stocky, rugby player build with a beard and short cropped red hair. He looked very masculine. “Come on” he said, “just 5 minutes”.
“No” I said.
“You know you want to”
“Just 5 minutes”
“No” I said and as I pushed past him he grabbed for me and squeezed my cock through my school trousers.

I felt sick and I ran up the steps and out into the afternoon daylight. Adrenalin coursed through by veins and my heart was beating up in my throat.

He followed me and I wanted to run. I was scared he’d tell people what I did. I went into a gift shop and tried to look like I was interested in browsing the shelves. He waited outside and when I looked up he was smoking. He raised his eyebrows at me and jerked his head towards the toilets, he was so bold. I was sweating now, trying to control my heart rate. Eventually a bus came and I got on it, I saw him walking back across the road to the toilets. He looked annoyed. I oddly felt I should have given him what he wanted (and what I wanted?)

I went back to those toilets many times. But I never saw him or his beautiful stiff cock again.


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