A gay story: From Elegance to Glory Half-jokingly, we had talked about it before.
I’d never done it, but she knew of my fantasies about giving men blow jobs. Sometimes in bed we’d tease each other with whispered made-up scenarios of me with a guy. That added electricity to our sex life.
I occasionally hinted playfully that we should visit a glory hole. Then she could watch me do the perverse things we’d whispered. She’d hesitate and say that she’d heard those places were dirty. Not for people like us. And she’d wonder why I wanted to do it with unseen men and without being seen myself.
I didn’t have a good answer for that, and I never pushed it.
But we did have fun with that fantasy sometimes.
Yet more often than she knew, that it was on my mind. When I imagined it, a kind of thrill ran through my body.
* *
Time went by, and I had no expectation that it would ever happen for real. So I am a little surprised to be writing this about how we found ourselves in a semi-dark booth in an adult sex shop.
The shop was two towns over from where we lived, so no doubt that helped. Likely nobody we knew would see us there.
We’d also shared a bottle of wine over dinner at a classy restaurant, and no doubt that helped too. We were both dressed up, she in a sexy dress and me in a smart casual summer suit. The warm, humid evening and our teasing banter over dinner had gotten us both feeling playful.
Still, it took an accident of parking. The restaurant’s tiny lot was full when we’d arrived at dusk so we’d parked around the corner and down a block. After supper, when we returned to the car we noticed a neon sign glowing red in the dark night, just half a block further down: XXX ADULT XXX.
We both looked at each other.
I had long sensed she was more than intrigued, despite her reservations about such places. Half the time she was the one who whispered scenarios about men doing sexual things to each other. Especially the one that we returned to most often: she was as turned on by fantasies of seeing me suck a cock as I was by imagining her watching me while I did it.
Not twenty minutes earlier in the restaurant we’d been teasing each other. Our waiter was handsome and more than once I’d caught her staring at him. More than once she’d caught me staring too.
“He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” she whispered to me as he walked away after uncorking the wine and pouring for us.
I’m pretty sure we’d both noticed how tight his pants were.
A little later she’d leaned across the table, bringing her head close to mine. “I was just thinking about your lips on his cock,” she whispered with a grin, and then leaned back to take a sip of wine and observe the effect of her words on my face.
“You’re making me hard,” I said. Too late I noticed that I had unconsciously licked my lips.
She smiled at that, then turned her head again to stare at our waiter, letting her eyes wander over him. I did too, when the opportunity arose.
After I’d paid the check, leaving a generous tip for our sexy waiter, I couldn’t wait to get home and into bed so we could take our fantasy talk to the next level.
But now we were confronted with the red neon XXX ADULT XXX, and it was like a siren luring us to untasted delights.
Simultaneously we both spoke. “Let’s see what it’s like,” she said. “Let’s check it out,” I said.
* *
The left side of the store was filled with aisles of movies, and the right side was given to sex toys and costumes. At least this part of the store seemed clean.
I’m not sure if she noticed, but right away I saw the doorway in the back with a VIDEO BOOTHS THRU HERE sign above it.
I gave her a few minutes to browse the movies, seeing what caught her attention. I know that her mood matched mine when we dwelled in the gay section, taking in the lurid cover images and titles.
She pointed to one showing a slender, dark-haired man on his knees before an extremely well-built man with his pants down around his ankles. “That could be you,” she said in an undertone. The man on his knees did have my coloring and body type.
“And isn’t he a greedy boy.” She was pointing to another cover showing a man on his haunches, each of his hands gripping a wet, erect penis. Thick strands of sperm covered both sides of his face. It was simultaneously gross and something I suddenly wanted to do.
“That’s hot” I said. I was suddenly feeling over-heated in my lightweight summer suit.
At that moment she leaned into me and whispered in my ear, “That guy over there is staring at you.”
I whispered back, “More likely he’s staring at you.”
“No,” she said, “Look for yourself.”
I followed her gaze and saw a big guy standing at the side of the darkened doorway that led to the video booths. He had dark brown hair and broad shoulders. His face was angular and masculine. Something about his body’s posture gave an aura of power.
He was definitely looking my way. That was flattering, and I felt a thrill of something go through me, knowing that a man was looking at me that way. He noticed me returning his gaze, and gave a small smile. Then he glanced up at the sign that said VIDEO BOOTHS THRU HERE.
She whispered again, “I think he’s touching himself.”
Looking down I noticed subtle movements from his right hand, which was thrust deep into his pants pocket. There was a sizeable bulge.
He saw the direction of my eyes, and continued stroking himself. When I met his gaze again, he nodded his head briefly and then walked through the doorway into the semi-dark hallway.
“I think he wants us to follow him,” I said.
“He wants you to follow him,” she corrected.
Then I heard words that I never really expected my wife to utter:
“Here’s your chance, fantasy man. That big male needs help with that large bulge in his pants, and he wants you.”
* *
I felt like my legs might give out, but I braced myself. We moved through the doorway and into the semi-darkness.
In the low light I noticed several men standing at various points along the long, narrow hallway with a dozen doors with lights above them, some red and some green. The men’s features were unclear, but it was clear they were all checking us out. I grabbed my wife’s hand, and felt we were both trembling with anticipation.
The man we’d followed was toward the end of the hall, holding open a door with a green light above it. He beckoned us. We passed by several of the other men, not making eye contact, and approached him and the open door.
He gestured us in, and as we passed through the narrow door he whispered “Watch movie number six. Or number nine.”
I half-turned to make sure the door shut behind my wife and me, and as it closed I noticed that he never took his eyes off me.
* *
It took us a moment to adjust our eyes to the dimmer light. The air smelled close as I took in our surroundings.
“It’s cleaner than I imagined,” she said. “Men can be such pigs,” she said. “You know what sorts of things happen in here.”
She was right. I had half-expected my shoes to stick to the floor, but someone did a half-decent job of cleaning the place.
Still, crude graffiti covered most of the walls and the air was thick with something dark and heavy. I suddenly felt out of place wearing my expensive clothing and having just eaten fine foods and tasted quality wine in a fancy restaurant. And why had I brought my wife into a place like this?
But now other appetites were rising within me, wanting satisfaction and overriding those thoughts.
My wife immediately took a seat on a chair in the back of the booth, opposite the television mounted high on the wall. She arranged the fabric of her dress around her legs, and inspected our space more carefully.
* *
We both noticed right away that the two side walls holes cut into them. In my fantasies I’d imagined such things, but the reality was stark. The holes were about a hand’s width in diameter. Each was at crotch height if one were to stand in front of it.
Or face height if one were to kneel before it.
Below the television was a controller with several numbered buttons, a slot for coins, and a credit card receptacle. I didn’t have any coins, so I slipped my credit card out of my wallet and swiped it. I irrationally worried for a moment that someone might see an embarrassing charge on my credit card bill next month.
The television screen lit up and prompted for a selection number.
“Six, right?” she said.
“Or nine.”
“One or the other,” she said with a laugh, “since this floor’s too hard and too dirty for sixty-nine.”
I smiled at her little joke and pressed six.
* *
The television started some opening title and credits, and we sensed movement from the other side of one of the walls. My wife gasped, and we both looked at the hole, but we could see only darkness through it.
Our booth was now lit up from the television’s flickering illumination, and I was sure that the man was watching us through the hole. That excited me. Something in me wanted men to look at me that way.
The movie title appeared on screen and I moved to stand beside my wife, who had taken the only seat. The ominous and compelling glory hole was just off to my left. My wife reached up and took my hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze.
“HIS TWISTED NEEDS,” the screen read. “STARRING…” “DIRECTED BY …” The credits were about a minute long, and as they scrolled they showed a few short clips from the movie to come.
One was immediately shocking– a naked slender man on his back, two other men kneeling above him, their erect cocks pointing at his face.
My wife squeezed my hand hard and gasped audibly.
Another clip flashed by, and we both gasped–a scene of a glory hole in a video booth with a white man on his knees sucking a thick black cock though the hole. A sexy woman knelt beside him, appearing mesmerized by the action.
Was that scene why our stranger had suggested movie number six?
The movie began and the first scene to appear on the screen was the glory hole scene. It began with a man-and-woman couple laughing as they entered a video booth. Immediately they began groping each other, kissing deeply and pulling at each other’s clothes. Soon they were mostly naked, and as he sat down on the chair she deftly swung a leg over him and sank to the hilt onto his upward-aiming cock.
My wife reached over and stroked my hardening cock through my pants.
“That looks like fun,” she cooed.
I noticed that she spoke loud enough for the man in the next booth to hear through the opening. She turned toward me and placed her hands on my crotch and began unzipping my pants. That distracted us, and within a minute I found myself with my pants and underwear down around my ankles, my wife stroking my exposed cock.
I knew we were giving a good show to the man watching us through the hole from the dark booth. I liked that feeling.
Glancing up toward the screen I saw the action had changed dramatically. The couple were no longer fucking on the chair–and the camera was focused on a very large and very black cock jutting through the hole in the wall. The man of the couple was on his knees before it and licking up and down its length like it was ice cream on a hot summer’s day. The woman had her hand on the back of his head like she was guiding him as he serviced the anonymous, glistening black cock.
“Oh, my god. Look at that!” She panted.
“Yeah.” I said. “That’s fucking hot.”
“Not the movie, baby! That!” She exclaimed, pointing toward one of our very real glory holes in the wall right beside us.
I ripped my eyes away from the television screen and there, poking fully through the hole and standing erect and gloriously huge was a perfectly shaped penis. It was throbbing to the pulse of its owner.
It was real.
My body knew what I needed to do. I felt myself go to my knees, simultaneously as my wife tugged downward on my hand and released me. I felt the hardness of the floor on my bare knees, but I didn’t care.
Suddenly the perfect penis was just centimeters from my face. A drop of pre-cum glistened at its tip, and the flickering colors from the television’s light made it sparkle.
Before I knew what I was doing I had hold of this magnificent cock in both of my hands, and I was stroking it to an unbelievably bigger, harder state.
“Oh, my god,” she panted again from directly beside my right ear. “That’s so fucking hot, honey! He’s huge!”
She had knelt close beside me and had her arm wrapped around my waist and was pumping my cock rhythmically to the soundtrack of the television movie.
* *
This was the moment of a hundred fantasies–I feasted my eyes on the enormity before me, ran my tongue over my lips to moisten them, opened them wide enough, and took the head into my mouth.
From the other side of the wall I heard a moan of pleasure as I ran my tongue around the head. I sensed the warm heat of his shaft in my mouth and the delicious sensation as his precum mixed with my saliva.
I savored for a moment, then drew my head back, releasing his cock from my mouth and turning my head to smile at my lovely wife. She had hiked her dress up around her hips and her other hand was busy between her legs, stroking herself. She smiled back sexily and said in a husky, loud-enough voice for our friend to hear, “Suck that cock, baby! Suck it hard!”
Her other hand was still pumping my cock as I returned to my new, anonymous friend’s shaft. I wanted to push my mouth as far down his cock as it could go and then slowly slide him back out. I repeated this slowly and methodically, trying to prolong all of our pleasure. I paused now and then to lick the full length of his monstrous cock.
I even did something I had shied away from even in my strongest fantasies of sucking men–something that had always seemed gross but was now compelling. His balls were large and firm. I licked them. I sucked one into my mouth, and then the other, fondling them with my tongue.
It seemed like I had discovered a new need, and I wanted them in my mouth for a long time.
As I did that perverse thing his cock throbbed and bounced against my nose. His male scent filled my nostrils, and that sent a thrilling urge through my body, making my own cock throb in my wife’s skilled hand.
Very soon I wanted to come, and I wanted to make the magnificent cock before me come.
“Wait,” she said, “slow down.”
I wondered why, and I didn’t want to, but did as she said.
“I want to make you naked.”
The man’s cock plopped out of my mouth as I pulled back, but I kept my hands’ grip firmly on his shaft.
“What??” I exclaimed.
I caught a glimpse of our television screen out of the corner of my eye, long enough to see that that male was now completely naked and his woman had her hands firmly gripping his head and forcing as much of that black cock into his mouth and throat as possible.
She wanted me naked, and now I wanted to be naked in that place too.
My wife had already pulled off my shoes and socks, and was tugging my pants the rest of the way off, tossing them aside.
I couldn’t wait any more, so again I took the big cock into my mouth, hungrily, but released my hands from his shaft so my wife could peel off my suit jacket. I started to undo my shirt buttons but quickly became impatient and tore it apart, the buttons flying wherever so my wife could grab the shirt and strip it off me, tossing it to land on the floor somewhere with the rest of my clothes.
“There,” she said, the task completed. “Now you are as you should be.”
And then she added: “Cocksucker.”
I felt it. It was as I should be. Naked, on my knees, wholly given to letting a man use my mouth for his pleasure. And for mine.
* *
Within a minute I could not resist my rising tide as my mouth worked up and down the man’s incredible shaft, and I sucked him for all I was worth. I wanted to feel him explode in my mouth. I needed to suck him to completion, to empty those heavy balls, to feel the urgent spurting, to taste his seed.
My wife’s hand worked my shaft furiously, and I recognized the sounds of her own close-to-orgasm panting and gasping.
Suddenly, his balls pulled tightly up into his groin–and his cock jerked erratically in my mouth. I moaned as I felt his release begin, liquid warm stickiness suddenly filling my mouth–and my own cock spasmed as I orgasmed in response–and my wife’s whole body suddenly shuddered as she reached her own release.
The intensity of the pleasure seemed to freeze time without ending.
And then it released us.
I sank back on my haunches. She shifted lazily over onto the chair. And the beautiful, spent cock retreated slowly from the hole in the wall and back into the darkness.
After a minute of silence, she said. “If that was number six, I wonder what number nine will bring.”
I didn’t say anything, but we both knew.
I wanted more.
* *