("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2005. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- When God Closes a Door, He Opens a Gloryhole by Mr. Silk (mistersilk@gmail.com) *** This is the true story of how I waited out a winter storm. My plans were to meet a fuck-buddy so she and I could experiment anal sex. That didn't work out, but the night was far from boring. (MM, exh, oral, mast, ghole) *** Part I: The Back Room It's been snowing heavily in many places in the country, and Wednesday night, the city got blanketed in a sheet of ice that made driving treacherous. There were numerous accidents, due largely to drivers acting like assholes. Several roads got closed down. Myself, I made my way through town fairly smoothly. H wasn't so lucky. I kept checking on her progress by cell phone. As I made my way across town, she made it just a couple of miles. She was stuck on the highway, and she remained stuck for 5 and 1/2 hours. Finally, we figured that we would have to postpone. Although we wouldn't get to experiment with ass-play that night, I dropped in to an adult store to see what sort of toys were available, and what they cost. This store didn't have much to offer, but I got some ideas. Now, I wasn't feeling particularly horny. I had been focusing my attention so much on the roads, that I wasn't really bothered by missing a night of wild fucking. But while I was at the porn shop, I thought I might as well take a little peek at the booths in the back. I mean, why not? A little background on my relationship with these things. I first discovered them when I was 18 and visiting Portland, OR for the summer. I was taking classes in Japanese there, and I was very isolated, away from family, friends, and familiarity. But, for the first time, I was legally of age to view erotic materials. So, for the first time, I sought out the adult stores. Portland is FULL of them. I don't know why. But it seemed that you couldn't go a quarter mile downtown without going past one. I turned into the first one that I found, one with a painted devil on the side, clutching his erect "tail." Goddamn, I was so nervous. It was that intense, physical nervousness. It felt like my heart was up in my throat, and I could feel it pounding in my skull, sending hot blood into my cheeks. Meanwhile my toes and fingers were could. A sick, squishy nausea squirmed in my stomach. See, I had been sneaking peeks at dirty magazines and dirty movies for years, ever since I was 7. Since age 11 I had developed the skills of a ninja by practicing breaking into my parents' locked stash. I signed the "verification" that I was an adult to acquire numerous catalogs and a couple of videos. But, always, always, I had to be careful not to be caught. I was caught a couple of times, and those were not good. So, as I entered that haven of filth, I could not shake the feeling that I was not supposed to be there, and as soon as someone saw me I would be thrown out and given a stern talking-to. I was so focused on not being noticed, that I wasn't really able to take in my surroundings. They were a blur of plastic wrapped photographs on shelves. I didn't want to linger on any one too long. And so, I rapidly made my way through the store. When I came to the back room, I ducked in there really just to get away. There were the booths, lined up in rows with little lights on the outside. Some on, most off. They were gray little closets. And I jumped into one just to get away and to catch my breath. Once inside, I had a minute to settle down. I started to take note of the interior. In front of me was a blank screen. Beside it, there was a slot to accept coins, and a large, square button. It just so happened that I had a couple quarters in my pocket. And, thinking "Why not?" I popped them in. As the screen lit up, I suddenly understood what the room was, and I was amazed. As I pressed the large button, I was offered channel after channel of hardcore porn. They had everything. I could jump from an orgy, to anal sex, to two girls experiencing lesbian sex for the first time. And I was all by myself. Secluded... Private... And hard and ready as a rocket. These little rooms, they couldn't have designed them for... I mean, could I do it here? In a public place? And again, "Why not?" was the rule. Fueled by fear and frustration and novelty, I gave myself a chillingly wonderful orgasm. After a moment, I zipped up, and made a beeline for the door. That summer I spent a lot of time and money in those places. I saw a lot of things I never thought I would see. There were movies of animal sex. There were movies of gay sex. At some stores, the channels were over 50% gay. Those were often scarier than the other stores, because they tended to be filled with men who lurked in the backroom. They didn't seem to be visiting the booths, just waiting. Waiting for what? They hunched their shoulders like vultures, and when the looked at me, I quickly looked away from their hungry, questioning gaze. In the years since, I've noticed that all back rooms have such men in some numbers. I just pushed past them now, avoiding eye contact. I do my business, and I go on. Part II: Just a Taste This was the plan last Wednesday. Business as usual. A little amusement before hitting the icy roads again. There was nothing particularly special in the booth that night. The films were mostly gay, some blacks on blondes, a threesome. I found a couple of straight films to switch between, and started my business. It really is not bullshit what they say about a man's penis thinking for him. "God only gave a man enough blood to work one of his brains at a time, and if the lower one is active, you can forget about the upper one." And anyway, as your pulse begins to race, and your mind begins to burn with desire, you become open to a lot more things. The nearer you reach orgasm, the greater the power of "Why not?" to open the realms of all sorts of kinks. I do not know if this was the first time that a nudged its way towards my booth. I've been frequenting these things for a decade, so I'm betting it's happened before in that time. What was different this time was that I saw it. I saw it because I was staring at that hole. As some sexy vixen had her ass and pussy filled by two Latino cocks, I had begun to watch the glory hole. I watched and I wondered. What would I do? What could I do? What are my limits? Would I be repulsed? Would I be aroused? And in the heat of my surging passion, these questions melted out of my intellect. Their draw fell out of the realm of words and coalesced into a single driving urge, and I felt something that I had never been aware of before. My hunger to know became a hunger for cock. And so I stared at that hole. Wondering if a dick would appear. Willing a dick to appear. I focused my mind upon it like a conjurer charming a snake out of a hole. And appear, it did. I heard the door of the booth beside me snap shut. There was the sound of coins in the slot, and then a blue light from the hole as the TV came on. All of this was fairly normal. The click of a belt on buckling. Pants hitting the floor. And then a shadow flickered across the blue. My eyes clung to that shadow as it wavered again, and then held, blocking all light from the screen. In it's place, nestled in the darkness, was a swatch of shadowed pink. This was it. Time to learn something new about myself. I reached out to it, brushing the skin with my fingertip. The reaction was immediate. In one, smooth stroke, a stiff, blood-gorged cock slid its full length into my booth. It was huge. Definitely bigger than my own, and I fell to my knees before the monstrosity. It was so well- sculpted that I thought that it might be no flesh and blood penis, but a silicone dildo. I only held that thought for a second, because too quickly I wrapped my lips around it, swallowing the bulging crown into my curious mouth. It swelled in my cheeks and filled me down to the throat. And as I rolled my tongue against it, it grew even more rigid. Immediately I made several observations, comparing this experience to what I have heard girls say. First, there was nothing unpleasant about the taste or smell of it. I would not expect it in a place like that, but he was perfectly clean and odor-free (adding to my initial question of it being real or not). In fact, as I lapped at the tip, I tasted a drop of precum and found that it was really quite nice. Salty- sweet. But gagging was definitely an issue, and as I fucked him with my mouth I cursed myself for not being able to take him deeper, harder, giving him the satisfaction of my throat. I won't pretend this was the first time I've had a dick in my mouth. As a child, I remember experimenting with friends at sleep-overs. Two guys crawl in bed together just to see what it's like. One pretends to be the woman. As I entered puberty, every sleepover developed into a 5-boy circle-jerk at some point. We never touched each other, but didn't find anything weird about it. Then at 15 I had a night with a friend where we wanted to find out if we were completely straight or not. It was awkward and a contributing factor to the end of our friendship. That night had made up my mind for me. I was only into girls. And I did not entertain any such thoughts for over 10 years. The point is that I really had no sense of technique as I slurped on this monster. I wanted to please though. I wanted to be good. I wanted to put all of my porn observations to task and suck this stranger into oblivion. Besides, if I was only going to suck one cock in my life, it had better be a good one. As I bathed him with my mouth, I moved my fingers around him, adding light-fisted jerk to my stroke. I drew back along the shaft, isolating the head, and slashing at it with my tongue like it was H's clitoris. This provoked an intense reaction, and as he became even more hard, his cock began to arc skyward, and the ridge of his flesh became more pronounced. Recalling the movies I've seen, thinking of how I've always wanted to be sucked, I crouched even lower and lapped up and down the underside of his shaft, where the flesh is tender and sensitive. It was amazing. I had this strange toy to play with. It was all mine, and though I fumbled in my inexperience, I had command over it. Spitting into my hand, I wrapped my fist around the head of his dick and gave him several stiff thrusts, from the glands down to the base. And then I took him into my mouth once more, and I as did I suck him hard, sucked the head of his dick with hicky-giving intensity. Suddenly he withdrew. I was stunned. What happened? Did he want more? Did he want to come in and join me? Did he want to suck me now? As ready as I was to suck a dick, I didn't think I could face the man attached to it. I peeked in the hole. I saw his legs shaking as he jerked himself. I poked my finger into the hole to get his attention. Did I do something wrong? Maybe my teeth scraped him? Was I sucking to hard. Then I heard his cell phone ring, and with Oscar-worthy calm, he answered. With perfect ease he talked about the ice and the roads as he pulled up his pants and disappeared from my view. Leaving me alone. And uncertain. Part III: Friend in Need Well, I was certain of one thing though. I hadn't cum yet. And that needed to be taken care of. I took a moment for myself, but my mind was elsewhere. What had I just done? What did it mean? Finishing quickly, I too zipped up and turned to face the door. I had just sucked a man's dick in a public place. This is what George Michael got arrested for. And would he be out there? Would he be waiting for me? Wanting more? Gluing my eyes to the floor, I shoulder the door open, and trudged straight for the exit, hands in my pockets. My keys were in my hand, and I was ready to make my escape, when I heard a voice behind me. "Excuse me?" I pretended not to hear. "Sir? Excuse me, sir?" Goddamn it. I turned, and there was a man behind be, coming my way from the store. He looked to be in his late 30s. Not a bad looking guy. Blue collar. Wearing a jean jacket and a pair of Levi's. Seemed as straight and normal as any guy who works with his hands. Probably a mechanic. I don't remember what pleasantries were exchanged, but soon he just came right out with it. "Could you watch me masturbate?" So this was him. I was finally face-to-face with the man I had just been face-to-cock with. "I'm sorry. I have to get home." "Yeah, I have to get home too. I just really need to get off." I had never been addressed in that tone before. Not for someone asking for sex. He wanted me like a panhandler wants your spare change. He needed me like a junkie needed a fix. No woman approaches a man for sex like that -- love maybe, but not sex. But in that moment I realized that every man approaches a woman for sex with just that desperation. We need it. And you have it. We love women for their company. We admire women for their beauty. But when it comes to sex, it has very little to do with you, with who you are or how you look, and has a whole lot more to do with this unholy craving that drives us ceaselessly. And when we lie, spent and thankful in your arms, it is because you have given us release from the drive. I bet most of the men who meet other men at these places don't think of themselves as gay, and maybe not even bi. I'm betting many of them have girlfriends and wives and children. They don't think of these meetings as being part of who they are. It's just something they do. It is a way that they satisfy a craving, and that craving feels alien to them, to their lives. So, I stood there as a grown man begged me to watch him jerk off. Another guy would have easily said, "No." And many more would have knocked him out. But me, I'm a nice guy, fatally nice, you know. And I look at his face and I think, "I know what that's like. I know what that need is, how it burns. How many times have I ached for a helping hand too? Besides, he just wants me to watch. No problem." "Okay." I shrugged. "Where?" "Maybe in a car? Or we can go back inside?" "Inside." I didn't want to let him into my car, and I didn't want to risk his. I'm nice but not completely oblivious. Of course, we looked entirely conspicuous returning together. I had clearly made my exit, and there I was popping in right behind him. He entered the back through the door on the left. I entered on the right. We met in the hallway and he asked where next? It was strange to be in control of this encounter. We wouldn't fit together in a booth, not in any position I was comfortable with. So, I had him sit in from of the screen with the door open so I could see. I stood with my coat on and my hands in my pockets as he pushed a couple coins in the wall and lowered his pants and underwear. I wanted him to choose a movie with a girl in it. That would maybe turn me on a bit and ease my transition into this next level of kink. No such luck. He chose a movie that showed a young, blonde man alone in his bedroom. The kid (because I'm finally old enough to call a 20 year-old kid) was looking at a magazine and jerking off, making sure the camera got plenty of shots of his balls and asshole as he wriggled and rolled along the carpeted floor. I was the man masturbate. He watched the boy. The boy watched his magazine. "Could you touch it for me?" I wasn't surprised, of course. And I had come this far. A hand is not so intimate as a mouth. So I reached down and took hold of him. He was not quite so hard, not quite so large, but I was guessing the phone had interrupted him, and nothing kills an erection like almost getting caught. So I gave him a couple dry strokes, and then spit in my hand for lube. He liked that. "Can I touch you as you're touching me?" "Sure." I spread my legs a little and let him fondle the front of my pants. He didn't stroke me or squeeze me, and I didn't get hard from any of this. It was more like the feel of my balls made him more secure, like a baby's blanket. "Did you cum?" I nodded. "Yeah." "Did he cum for you?" My stroke paused. "No." And then I realized why this cock felt different. It was different. This guy was entirely new. How did he know? Did the other one tell him? Did he point me out as being "accommodating?" After living what I had thought of as being a normal, if open-minded heterosexual life for 28 years, in one night I tripled my number of adult gay partners (counting that night when I was 15). Soon, he took my hand from him, and replaced it with his own. A couple of stiff jerks, and he drooled out a thick, white stream of cum onto the floor. And for a moment, the part of my mind that has been a student of porn wondered if I should reach out to him, take a fingerfull of his jizz and bring it to my mouth like a good little cocksucker. Just to give him a little thrill. But I had already been adventurous enough. As I left, I gave him a manly slap on the shoulder. "Well, good night. Be careful out on those roads." And I slid out before he was done zipping up his fly. But on the way out, I passed a sign that read: Please, no "cruising" in the video aisles. Customers have complained about this, and you will be asked to leave. END * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Kristen's collection - Directory 35