Decades ago, when I was a young man, I discovered the eighth wonder of the world; namely, glory holes.
I was a sales representative in those days and had a large territory to cover. I particularly liked the smaller malls that essentially consisted of a multi supermarket chain with a handful of stores facing the supermarket tills within the enormous structure. To explain more fully, these malls had delightful toilet facilities located on either side of their entrances.
In general, these ablution areas consisted of a substantial steel urinal, two or more basins for handwashing, and several side-by-side toilet cubicles. Invariably, the last two or three stalls furthest from the entrance had glory holes in the chip wood drywalls between the stalls. The drywalls were generally over six-foot-high, with a twelve-inch clearing at the bottom.
As I would come to learn, this was important for two reasons. Firstly, by standing on the toilet bowl, one could look over the top of the wall and peer into the adjoining stall. Secondly, people often stuffed the holes with a wad of toilet paper. I suppose this got done to prevent annoyance from patrons who were not interaction inclined or slightly dubious. In time, I would discern that the animated foot action from the shoes of the person in the adjoining stall, flicking side to side, was a great action indicator. After a reciprocal gesture, the wad of paper summarily disappeared.
The most befuddling thing to me was how the queens who fabricated these orifices of ecstasy did so without creating a shitload of noise. Because many of the holes were perfectly circular, I reasoned that they must have used a circular saw.
In addition to this glorious debauchery, dry or fresh cum stains usually adorned the partitions, along with a plethora of graffiti. Naturally, there were drawings of penises and pussies all over the stall. Most intriguing to me, however, were the people who left telephone numbers for hookups. The riskiness of this was mind-blowing. Many comments were humorous and often had me laughing.
On my visits, I soon found that before ten a.m. and after three p.m. was the best time to visit these toilets. Between these times, things could get too busy and be unrewarding, remembering that above all, I had a job to do, and time was, therefore, not limitless. Of the many pleasurable encounters I had, one mall stood out above all the others and I came to think of this as my lucky mall. Coincidentally, this was also the first ablution area where I got initiated into the wonder of glory hole sex.
Prior to that, my first episode was very memorable. As I sat in the cubicle, looking at the wad of paper stuffed into the hole, a skanky-looking sneaker commenced flicking back and forth under the drywall. Purely on instinct, I reciprocated and moved my shoe close enough to touch the trainer. Magically, the wad of paper then got retracted, exposing an open glory hole. Unable to resist and with my heart beaten excitedly in my chest, I peered through the aperture. If I am to be quite honest, the man I saw did not excite me. He was a rough-looking blue-collar man, whom I estimated was at least sixty years old. What happened next, however, dispelled all my negativity, as the most awesome uncut cock slid through the glory hole.
Like a hungry slut, I got to my knees and began sucking his dick. Shortly, as if by symbiosis, I held my head still and let him skull-fuck me. With his fingertips clamping the top of the drywall, my mouth got treated to the most unbelievable pounding for a couple of minutes. As his rhythm became irregular, I prepared myself for his release. His forceful stabbing soon bore results as my mouth got coated by the most abundant spunk I had ever imbibed.
Afterward, he quickly pulled up his trousers and departed. As I again sat on the toilet bowl tugging on my dick, my tongue swirled in my mouth savouring the most delicious jizz I had ever tasted, before unloading.
