Author's note: This is the fifth installment in a multi-part story. All feedback is welcome, though I prefer negative feedback be limited to constructive comments. This is my second published story. My first series, "Cup of Joe", can be found in the Gay/Authoritarian section of the Nifty archive.
Disclaimer: This is a story about men getting it on with other men. If you like this sort of thing, please read on. If you don't like it, get lost. Many of the events and characters are based on my life. Safer sex practices are not depicted here. If you decide to live out any of these fantasies, please use condoms.
Buttsex Junkie
Chapter 5: Glory Hole Discovery
Our town was small but not tiny, around a hundred thousand people. It had a small private college in it, plus two community colleges and a technical school. The south side of town, where my family lived, was upper-middle class. We lived between the college and the river, which comprised the city limits at the town's southern edge, in a long row of large tract houses with deep lawns that spread down to our quiet street. The town's north side, on the other hand, was older and more working-class, with older houses occupying tiny parcels of land, all in various stages of upkeep or decay.
Downtown contained a few banks and large office buildings, but the primary industry was manufacturing, mostly related to farming equipment that was sold into the many rural agricultural communities nearby. As a result, the north end of town, bordering the freeway, was home to several truck stops and other businesses catering to the blue-collar trade of transport professionals who came and went on a daily and weekly basis. What few fast food chains and tourist traps we had were also located near there, catching whatever transient traffic might be passing through, offering an oasis among the vast expanse of rolling hills that covered the central part of the state.
Just off the freeway, near the largest truck stop, was the Holiday Mall. Built in the fifties to capitalize on the freeway traffic boom, it had slowly lost business over the decades since, and by the time I was in high school it was clear the place had seen better days. Only about half the shops were occupied, and the carpet and paint everywhere in it was stained and dated. Not that I went there very often-my family generally did its shopping in a trendier, newer section on the south side. But sometimes my friends and I would hang out there, playing games at the video arcade or having cokes and fries in the greasy diner at the mall's far end.
I guess I was vaguely aware of the rumors, that the restrooms at Holiday Mall were used for sex. The guys would joke about it once in a while, saying that truckers all knew it was a surefire place to get blow-jobs and other sexual relief while en route on a long haul. I never gave it much thought; in fact, whenever someone referred to blow-jobs in the restrooms, for some reason I always pictured slutty women and girls doing it for them, not men. I fleeting wondered whether the women waited for the truckers in the men's restroom, or whether men went into the ladies' room, or whether the whole thing was fiction.
We were at the diner one Saturday night, just the regular crowd and me-Manny, Petey, and Dan, plus Dan's toe-headed little cousin Rick from out-of-town-when once again the subject came up.
"So where's the famous restroom where all the girls give head?" Rick asked.
Manny snorted. "Not girls, you dope. Guys. Fags." I was silent, and seconds later I kicked myself for not putting this fact together on my own. "And like I'd know where they are, I'm no log-choker, ya freak."
"Yeah, right," Dan flicked a french fry at our friend. "I bet you don't care who swings on your dick, horndog. Queer dudes, chicks, or 'other'...!" He flashed a stupid grin.
Everyone laughed, myself included. It would be a few years yet before spoke back to the queer/fag stuff. Even then, I was starting to shrug it off. What I did focus on was the what Dan had said, and how he'd said it: that he was familiar with the idea of getting a dude to suck you off, and all it means is you're horny, not gay. I suddenly pictured Dan a different way. He was very goodlooking, and I'd seen his dick a few times in the showers. It was big, fleshy and uncut. I wondered what it would be like to satisfy him. And I wondered if he'd be open-minded enough to go beyond a simple blow-job and ram his huge bat up my ass.
Within seconds, I'd sprung a raging hard-on. I searched Dan's face briefly to see if he'd catch my eye somehow, but that didn't occur. Just as well, I figured. In that condition, I'd probably blush out of control.
As our inane conversation then veered in some other mindless direction, I began to tune out and focus on this new realization about our current locale. So, men had sex here at Holiday Mall. But in which set of restrooms? There were three that I knew of. One was adjacent to the diner, and one was near the video arcade. These were the only sets I'd ever used. But I knew there was a third set, down at the mall's other end, where most of the shops were empty. Now that I thought about it, I had rarely seen anyone at that end of the mall in the evenings when we were hanging out, but what few people I did notice were usually men, walking alone, dressed in the way truckers might be.
My mind raced. I thrilled at the idea of random men showing up in a remote place, for no reason other than to receive service. But I couldn't yet conceive of the specifics of what went on. Did they meet in the stalls? How did they indicate to each other what they wanted? What if someone walked in?
That did it, I had to learn for myself. Unfortunately Petey had driven all of us that night, so I was without a vehicle temporarily and couldn't break from the crowd. I was tempted to excuse myself to go use the john, and travel there to check it out for myself, but I knew that walking to the other end of the mall would take a long time and probably arouse the guys' attention, if not their suspicion. So I had to content myself for another hour, chattering about football and girls and school. The whole time, my hard dick raged in my jeans, and every time I opened my mouth to eat another french fry, I couldn't escape picturing Dan's cock slipping in between my lips instead.
Finally, at around ten-thirty, the crew voted to change venues. I was glad when Manny suggested the bowling alley on the south side, because I knew my house was on the way and I could easily beg off. A short while later I was crawling out of Petey's back seat and waving my friends good-bye, only to walk in the house and make up some reason for borrowing my Mom's car for the next few hours.
My heart raced as I drove back to the mall. I parked near the diner, in the same exact stall that Petey had parked in earlier. I watched as people came and went from the doorway. This late, the diner was the only shop open. I realized that I would probably look stupid walking in there alone, especially when I'd clearly been there with my friends less than a half-hour earlier. I decided that the only acceptable plan was to enter the mall when no one in the diner was paying attention, and make my way to the men's room. I figured if anyone stopped me I could say I was just out driving around and I needed to take a leak.
So that's what I did. First I got out of my car, walked over to the mall entrance, and pretended to be reading newspaper headlines through the windows of the machines that dispensed them. At a point when all the diner workers were in the back of the restaurant, I took a deep breath, pulled open the doors, and went inside. With barely a glance in my peripheral vision, I busily strode right past the entrance to the diner and kept going down the wide, empty corridor.
The whole way to the far men's room, I didn't see a single soul. About half-way I started feeling extremely foolish, and I almost laughed out loud at myself. I had no idea whether I would find anything happening in the men's room or not. Most likely, I would not. It also occurred to me that the men who went there might be older and flabby and gross. From what I knew about truckers, they weren't universally known for their hygiene. Still, I had committed to seeing whatever there was to see.
As I pushed open the door, I heard a brief noise-a slight scuffle, then nothing. I stepped inside, and the door swung shut silently behind me. Before me were the sinks, next to those the urinals, and following that, three toilet stalls. I looked down and saw that two of the stalls were indeed occupied: in one, a pair of sneakers was visible, and in the other, a pair of men's work boots.
I decided to take a piss and observe for a few minutes, to see what happened, if anything. I approached the farthest urinal, next to the first stall, and unzipped. As I stood there, neither of the men in the stalls seemed to do anything. Maybe these guys were just using the facilities, after all. Or, if they were doing something else, maybe they had chickened out when I walked in the room. Maybe they'd quickly gather themselves and depart while I had my back to them, exiting the men's room and squandering my luck.
Soon I thought: How could they be doing anything when they sat in different stalls? It didn't make sense. The scuffle I had heard upon entering couldn't account for one of the men moving from one stall to the other. There hadn't been enough time. I decided they were innocent, or if they were trying to cruise each other, they must have been doing it by some ritual I wasn't privy to, and I must have caught them early at it.
Then, just as I finished peeing, I heard it. A groan, low and quiet, nearly inaudible, but unmistakable. It couldn't have been related to any other business: it was a sigh of pleasure. My eyes grew instantly wide, and I paused again before zipping up. The pair had gone silent again, possibly in reaction to the one man's utterance. But I wanted them to continue, whatever it could be that they were doing. What should I do?
I zipped up my crotch and turned around. I was about to head toward the sinks when I suddenly felt compelled in the other direction. I moved to the nearest stall, the one that was still unoccupied, and stepped inside. I turned again, latching the stall door, and then lowered my pants and sat down.
Somehow this activity gave the other two immediate license to be as loud as they wanted to. I heard slurping, groaning, and occasional shuffling of shoes on the restroom floor. They guy farthest from me let go a low "Oh yeah" and I realized it was he who had grunted a few moments earlier as I stood to piss. These guys were headlong into a blowjob, and I didn't understand how they were doing it. I looked down at the dividing wall: it left a gap of scarcely twelve inches above the floor, not nearly enough space for even the most flexible dude to maneuver his cock underneath.
My eyes then moved slowly up the wall, to crotch-level. Next to the toilet paper roll, I saw it. It was a hole about three inches in diameter, stuffed with tissue. I knew right then that there must be an identical hole on the next wall over, and that through it one man was giving head to another. What a perfect design!
All that remained now was to get up the nerve to remove the tissue. I put my hand on it, and with a promise to myself that I could still back out of this situation whenever I wanted, and justify my behavior as innocent if it came to that-I pulled the wad of toilet paper out of the hole, and peered through.
The guy in tennis shoes was on his knees, facing away from me. He appeared to be in his late teens, with a blond buzz cut, probably a college guy. He wore tight faded jeans, and his shirt was off, displaying cute strong muscles in his tan back. I noticed his shirt hanging above him on a hook. >From this angle, he looked very hot. His head moved toward and away from the wall, mechanically worshipping the dick in front of him that I couldn't see.
I stroked my cock as I watched the show, fascinated. After a few minutes, the blond stud backed off the cock to catch his breath, and he twisted his hot torso around toward me. When he saw my eye at the hole, a smile lit up his face, and I suddenly realized two things: He was even cuter than I had imagined from viewing his back side, and...I recognized him! He was the blond college stud, Alan, who had helped Kurt and Kenny and Horse fuck me that first fateful day at Kurt's house, along with his boyfriend, the dark-haired beauty Ben. I hadn't seen either of them in the months since that encounter, and here he was, giving head in a public john. I knew he couldn't recognize me without getting closer to the hole.
Before I had any time to react, he asked: "Do you like what you see over there?"
I didn't respond. I was still in shock from recognizing him, and from discovering this hot action.
He turned around and sat back on the toilet, his left hand jerking the big throbbing dick that protruded from the opposite hole. I practically drooled. He saw this, still smiling. "Why don't you show me what you've got, too," he invited. His voice was soft, husky and cool.
Trembling, I stood up and slowly put my dick through the hole. Seconds later a warm hand wrapped around it, jerking me off. It felt fantastic. This was soon followed by his hot mouth, and for the first time in a long time, I was getting a blowjob. Not just any blowjob, but the best one I'd ever had. The only two boys who had ever sucked me were my cousin Kenny and Kurt (once). Both were better at it than the girls I'd had, but none of them could compare to this guy.
Fortunately he stopped after only a brief while, because I didn't want to lose control so early in my first restroom encounter. He returned to hand-jobbing me as he caught his breath, then said: "Dude, you want to turn around? I love to lick ass."
Sounded great to me! I was light-headed from getting such an excellent blow-job; my knees were practically jelly. But I managed to spin around in the tiny stall, my jeans and briefs still at my ankles, and carefully I leaned forward and placed my hands against the opposite wall, backing my ass up to the hole. Once I had the pucker directly over the opening, I felt Alan's expert tongue start lapping and pushing into my hot jock crevice.
Upon tasting me, he groaned deeply, sighing with pleasure. He pulled back briefly. "Oh fuck, that's one tasty hole," he said before sticking his whole face back in. This guy obviously loved licking around inside a good juicy butt. To add to the essence, it even still contained some cum: Kurt had deep-fucked me hard that afternoon, putting two big batches of cum in my hole. I knew this guy had to be eating what was left of it.
As my blond stud rimmed me deep, I began to remember everything else we'd done that day. While I was on my back getting fucked by Ben and Horse, Alan had sat on my face and I had rimmed him good and deep, the same way he was doing for me now. Then, he and I had kissed and made-out as he bent over for Kurt's amazing fuck, while Ben (his boyfriend) finished squirting his boy-cream into my hungry ass.
Best of all, however, I recalled Alan fucking me, me on my back looking up into his handsome face, his strong arms holding my thick legs open as he drilled in and out of me with his hard, solid dick. I had loved the face he made both times he came up my ass: a tortured, soulful scowl of pure ecstasy.
Without realizing it, my lips formed words, and I spoke them aloud: "Fuck me...fuck me...please..."
Once I said it loud enough for my hot blond rimmer to hear, he pulled off my ass and announced in a loud whisper to his friend: "Hey man, we got a real pussy-boy over here. Wants to be fucked!"
I groaned. "Oh yes, god yes...please man, you gotta put it in my hole...!"
"No problem, man. I need to dump this load anyway."
There was a moment as Alan changed position behind me, and I felt the cool restroom air on my hole. I ached for the absence of his hot tongue, but I knew it would be soon replaced by something even sweeter.
Without warning, his pole drove into me. "AAAAAIIGH!" I yelped. The invasion was sudden but instantly welcome. Alan sunk his huge rod in to the root. I scrambled to regain my balance and catch my breath. "Oh fuck! Jesus! God..."
He gave me only a second to recover, and then was off and running. I was impressed at how skillfully he could fuck me with a wall between us. His dick slammed deep into my hole, pulled all the way out, and then drove in once again. His strokes were deep and long, lunging in and out of me, slowly at first but gaining in tempo as he continued his assault on my ass.
I relaxed into the fuck, loving every second and pushing my firm ass back hard against the wall to maximize each stroke. I wondered briefly what the other guy was doing, but then I remembered the hole he'd been getting blown through, and decided he was probably watching from there and jerking off. I pictured his giant dick as I'd seen it, coated with precum and Alan's drool, and I knew I couldn't leave without feeling that monster inside my hole as well.
"Fuck me...yes, fuck...oh please..." I moaned on and on. "Do me...cum in my hole..."
When I mentioned cumming, Alan seemed to step up his efforts even further. The rattling wall behind me started making a different noise, and I looked back over my shoulders to see his knuckles gripping it at the top. He was grabbing the wall to give himself better leverage on my hole. Instantly he was fucking me twice as hard and as fast as before. The sensation in my hole was unreal.
"Oh...Jesus Christ, fuck me dude...oh fuck, man...you know how to fuck a dude..."
I fisted my own cock, and it was very hard not to make it cum while this sexy college stud was power-drilling my jock-bitch asshole. But I knew I wanted to persevere and maximize the pleasure I received before succumbing to that pleasure myself.
Soon enough, after a few minutes of this relentless attack on my hole, Alan shot his jism into me in hot, huge globs. I loved the feeling as it coated my whole interior. It seemed to just keep cumming and cumming. Like many of the men who fucked me, especially Kurt, this one shot a copious load.
After shooting into my asshole, Alan withdrew, breathless. "Jesus-fuckin-Christ," he exhaled, panting, "that is one totally sweet ass." He dropped to his knees, and I felt his heavy breath on my asshole. Once again he stuck his tongue in, flickering it about, this time rimming out some of the big sticky load he'd just deposited. The rest of his jizz escaped down my cheeks on either side, creating a sticky layer between my ass and the wall.
"My turn," came a gruff voice, and I realized the other man had joined Alan in the stall. "Ready for some big trucker dick in your cooze, little slut?"
Was I? I was born ready. Hearing him demean me just made me delirious with lust all over again.
"Fuck yeah man," I challenged him. "Use me. I fuckin' love it. Rape my teen jock pussy-hole."
This time I had the forethought to prepare for initial entry. I hiked my ass up tight against the hole, my strong hairy legs bent slightly to support me, and braced myself with one had against the toilet seat and the other against the opposite wall, my palm flat against the cool gray metal. Then I closed my eyes tight and held my breath, in blissful anticipation of being entered by that enormous, fat dripping trucker cock.
He plowed into me like an avalanche. His cock felt so big and wide that it seemed to split me in half as it parted the sides of my hole, plunging impossibly deeper and deeper into my slick, dark talented tunnel. When he finally bottomed-out I swear I could feel his huge dickhead tickling my lung. Just being impaled on such a huge stake was enough stimulation for me to go weak all over again, the blood rushing to my head and my engorged cock. But I managed to continue bracing myself, and a good thing too. Without missing a beat, my trucker was soon sawing his huge erection in and out of my hole.
"OH! Ahhh...aw, fuck me..." I grunted. "Jesus, oh yeah...oh it's so fuckin' huge...Jesus Christ, man, give it to me. Gimme that huge fat cock...give it to my hole..."
From there I lapsed into a steady, low "unh...unh...unh..." as this huge dick continued turning my asshole inside out. Every single stroke felt so fucking good, I couldn't imagine any other reason to be alive.
Meanwhile, my new trucker friend continued to talk dirty with me as he fucked. "Yeah, what a good pussy-boy," he muttered. "Loves this big dick. Loves his daddy's cock plowing in and out of his hot hole. Got a nice sweet ass...loves this dick, loves getting a nice big cock up there..."
I drifted into a stupor of ecstasy, and for the next several minutes I could focus on nothing other than the supreme pleasure of giving up my hole for this splendidly hung stud. I was bent over so far that when I looked straight ahead I saw his boots, firmly planted on the tile floor of the stall beside me. I tried to picture the rest of him-tall, gruff, muscular, hairy. To date I had never been fucked by anyone more than 22 or 23 years old. I imagined this friend to be around forty. I pictured one of my uncles, Eric, who was about that age, a well-built, dark-haired farmer who was my mother's brother and whom I had always considered sexy.
And that's what did it. The whole notion of getting violently fucked by a man twice my age, or even a little older, but still sexy and handsome and strong....it was all so new and so alluring that I couldn't control myself any longer. I took my right hand off the toilet seat and gripped my rock-hard dick, beating it insanely fast to the image of myself bent-over in a toilet stall getting team-fucked through the wall by a horny trucker who resembled my sexy Uncle Eric and a blond sexy college stud who had used my ass previously but tonight had no idea who I was. Needless to say, I lasted about five seconds, and then with a slight scream, I hit the edge, and my boiling teen cum poured from my dick and all over the restroom floor.
"Oh yeah, fuckin' hot," the trucker said with a squeak. He was obviously on the brink himself, and the natural tightening of my asshole around his generous dick when I orgasmed was enough to pull him over the edge. His big load soon joined Alan's in my hole.
He pulled out, and told Alan: "You like drinking cum from used buttholes so much boy, you go ahead and lick mine out of this cooze." Alan, on cue, soon covered my ass with his mouth and began hungrily lapping once again at my hole. My ass was stretched and sore from the hard fucking it had received, and my hot college friend's tongue felt as soothing a remedy as aloe on a sunburn.
As Alan was rimming me, the trucker left. I never got to find out what he looked like, so in my memory he looks exactly like the hot uncle I had pictured. As I performed more and more glory hole sex over the years, this aspect became one of my favorite indulgences: picturing the faces and bodies of the faceless men whose dicks entered me through the wall, matching them up with my favorite fantasies.
Alan's rim-job felt fantastic, but as soon as I caught my breath, I knew I had to change position as soon as possible. I had been hunched over, getting fucked, for over a half-hour. I gradually drew myself into a sitting position on the toilet, and after a few more minutes of massaging my leg muscles and wiping up the cum from the floor, I pulled up my jeans and underwear, ready to face Alan. We both exited our stalls at the same time, and the look on his face when he saw mine was priceless.
"Ohmigod, you're...?"
"Allen," I said. "Same as you."
He looked shocked for a moment longer, then cracked up laughing. "You're that hot bottom bitch that Ben's teammate Kurt was always talking about," he said. "I shoulda known. Your ass soaks up dick and cum better than I've ever seen."
I warmed at the compliment. "Well, it was a lot of fun taking your fuck that day at Kurt's house, with all the other guys. I wonder why we never did it again?"
"My boyfriend, can be kinda a prude," Alan explained. "Usually I'm the only ass he wants to fuck. And he doesn't like it when I go out and get dick on my own. It's just, sometimes...I gotta have it!"
I certainly knew what he was talking about...