In London the days of cottages (i.e. public restrooms to you Americans) with large glory-holes are largely a thing of the past. Very few remain, and even they are often locked up.
Of course we now have a variety of gay clubs, saunas, bars, etc. which have backrooms and cubicles with glory-holes, etc., but it just isn't the same somehow.
There used to be cottages with big glory-holes all over London, and I used to travel all over the capital to many of them. Far too numerous to list here, but to give you an idea on my way to work there were 4 and another one in a nearby park to where I live. Now all gone. It's a wonder I ever got to work at all, and since one was right opposite where I worked I have been known to pop out, have a bit of sex, and pop back into the office again without anyone even missing me! Those were the days.
On the old 69 bus route (I'm sure some queen armed with a drill must have chosen that route deliberately!) there were two glory-hole cottages at one end of the route in Walthamstow, two at Canning Town, and one at the end of the route at North Woolwich. Now all closed, demolished or the glory-holes blocked up. There may well have been more on the route; these are just the 5 I discovered. Not surprisingly this was my favorite bus route in London, and it took me all day to travel from one end of the route to the other, stopping off on the way at each cottage!
There were such cottages in parks, in markets, in the streets of London, in shopping malls, hospitals and in certain colleges. Nearly all gone or made thoroughly respectable. French style unisex coin-in-the-slot loos (toilets) have shut many old-style public toilets, and cut-backs closed others. Still more have been converted into restaurants, betting shops, clubs, hairdressers and goodness knows what else. My camp friend visiting London saw they had turned one of his favorite cottages into a restaurant, went down the stairs and shouted out to the diners: `You wouldn't be eating your meals down here if you knew what went on in this place in the old days!' They nearly choked on their hors d'oeuvres!
I often wonder if in some of the old underground cottages which have been filled in some poor queens were buried alive, some of them spent so much time in them they practically took up residence. A friend of mine in Bristol called in at one glory-hole cottage on the way to work. A queen was in the next cubicle, knitting. Pop over to the café over the road and get me a cup of tea, will you love?' he said. My friend went and got a cup of tea and pushed it under the partition. 8 hours later on his way home from work he called in the cottage again, and the old queen was still in there, still knitting. I've nearly finished the sleeves, love,' she said, `but I dropped a few stitches when the cocks came thru the hole dear!' Where can you get camp humor like that nowadays?
Now to some of my more exciting encounters in various glory-hole cottages in London. Of course, the main attraction was that they were open all thru the day, and not restricted to the type of gay man who goes to gay clubs/saunas etc.. You could pop in on your way to work, in the lunch hour or even on the way home, it cost nothing, and if you were lucky you could score in 30 minutes or less. Moreover, you never knew who would come into the cubicle next door. Many married men used these places, and some other types you would never ever find in a gay club. So long as minors were not involved, and all activity took place within the cubicles out of the sight of the general public, I don't see much harm was being done. Of course, the cubicles were vandalized in the first place, but I wasn't responsible for any of these. In fact I know of one council workman responsible for most of the glory-holes in cottages around the London Borough of Wandsworth (now all gone). Once the glory-holes were there, if the council/authorities didn't block them up, why shouldn't we make use of them?
To show what I mean about getting types you don't usually find in the gay clubs, here are just some examples:
At a cottage in Waterloo station, which was always very busy, there were just small glory-holes. However the cubicles had big gaps above and below the dividing walls of most of them, and the doors went from ceiling to floor. So guys used to climb over into the next cubicle. One day I was unfortunate enough to be in one of the few cubicles where the dividing wall reached from ceiling to floor, so there was no way I could climb over. However I looked thru the small glory-hole and what did I see? The most exciting thing I've ever seen in my life, and boy was I frustrated at missing out on this activity!!!
A British soldier in full uniform (there were loads of these passing thru the station in those days) was being given a blow-job by a gay man who'd climbed over the dividing wall the other side. Lucky bugger and I told him so (the gay man, not the soldier.)
My own good fortune came at a glory-hole cottage in North London one day when a beautiful, young blond-haired policeman in uniform came next door, and let me give him a blow-job. This was one of the most exciting casual encounters of my life, a fantasy come true. Well, he might have been a security guard I suppose, but he wore a very smart uniform almost identical to that of a British policeman ^Ö dark trousers, dark pullover with silver letters/numbers on the shoulders, shirt and tie. Fantastic!!!
Passing by one of my local glory-hole cottages with my partner on our way somewhere, I just popped in. Trust my luck, a beautiful guy with longish blond hair was in the next cubicle and passed thru a note saying he was just waiting to be sucked off, and would I like to do it for him! I just didn't have the time, most frustrating. But I'm happy to say I saw him there many times after that, and gave him many a blow job. The most beautiful guy I've ever met in a cottage, and it was always very good sex with a lot of teasing and making me wait for my reward, which I found a great turn on.
Then there was the young, dark-haired, very handsome office worker in a smart suit (always a turn on for me) who frequented a glory-hold cottage in one of the London stations in the City. Many is the time he has given me a hand-job thru one of the glory-holes, sadly all gone long ago. This fulfilled another fantasy of mine about having sex in the office, or being jerked off by the boss! Sadly, he'd never let me suck him off. To tell the truth, he only jerked me off so I'd vacate the cubicle and let someone else in he fancied, but that was OK by me. You don't get these sort of `deals' on the gay club scene. I've done the same for guys I don't fancy as well in glory-hole cubicles, otherwise some of them would be there all day.
Some guys who frequented these places were on the game, and I met several of these. One, an attractive skinhead, used to visit me regularly at my flat after I met him in the local glory-hole cottage, and his prices were far more reasonable than those of escorts advertising in the gay press.
Because there was not so much competition/choice as in packed gay clubs, it was much easier to score in these places.
Practically anything was available ^Ö if you were into water-sports, for instance, that was on offer too. I remember several trips to my local shopping mall where a young blond guy would ask me if I wanted his piss today. It certainly made shopping much more interesting I can tell you, and made a refreshing change from a cup of tea or a Coke! Have to suck a strong mint afterwards, though.
Just the excitement of sitting in these cubicles wondering who was going to come next door was half the fun. A few cottages, including my local one, had several glory-holes, so if you got in the right one you had a glory-hole each side, and the choice of two partners.
Sex was so easy to obtain in those days, it could be had every day, several times a day, and you could pop in to a cottage, have sex and be out again in just a few minutes.
Of course, it wasn't always fantastic. Some days nothing much would happen at all. On one occasion, in my local cottage, there was a very attractive guy next door. After much coaxing his cock came thru the glory-hole and I gave him a blow-job. I thoroughly enjoyed it until it was all over, he withdrew and I saw to my utter horror the attractive young guy must have slipped out quietly and an old man had slipped in just as quietly and put his cock thru the hole! However this only happened the once, and at least the old boy enjoyed it. I adopted the motto: always look just before you suck or allow yourself to be sucked!
On occasions I've had really wild times. Such as in a glory-hole cottage (now made respectable) in a North London park where I sucked off so many guys in an hour or so I lost count. Another fantasy come true, and it wasn't just anybody, I was rather fussy, but this particular morning all of them were gorgeous and willing. I miss times like that, and the excitement of the anticipation.
In all my years of cottaging, I always hoped for a soldier in uniform to come in next door, like that one in Waterloo. Alas, it never happened, but the anticipation of the possibility was always there. It will never, ever happen in a gay backroom club ^Ö the most you could hope for is some queen wearing camouflage trousers and vest, not my idea of a real soldier in real uniform. The nearest I got was that lovely blond policeman/security guard. (Since the IRA bombing campaigns, British soldiers stopped wearing uniform in public places unless on parade, and soldiers out of uniform look like anyone else).
I did hear the local glory-hole cottage in a park near my home was frequented by a policeman in uniform, but I never had the good fortune to be there when he was. That cottage too is now quite respectable. In fact the one with the glory-hole was turned into the Ladies (presumably after the hole had been blocked up) and the men then had to use the other one, which had an attendant on duty in a little office watching everything that went on. So that put paid to that!
The only things comparable to the cottaging scene, were the public cruising areas, usually on heathland, in parks or on towpaths, etc. after midnight. I've had some very exciting encounters in these places also, because again you never know who you'll meet. Married men and others who wouldn't frequent gay backroom bars go to these sort of places. I've seen a real soldier in full uniform at one of these places, though all he wanted to do was hit someone with his stick. He wouldn't let anyone get anywhere near his cock.
One very attractive guy I saw there regularly would stand in a group and snog someone, there'd be mutual masturbation, but if I was around and knelt down by them he would always turn round at the last minute and shoot in my mouth. I've never forgotten the taste of his load ^Ö the most delicious spunk I've ever tasted. He fed me loads of it over the years. If he's reading this, thank you very much for all the wonderful meals you've fed me!
Another guy I saw regularly in this cruising ground was into spit and water-sports, and dirty talk. This was a real turn on as he made me drink his piss, spat in my mouth and called me all the dirty names under the sun.
Another gorgeous guy (he looked like a young model) used to go up there on his bicycle, and I'd follow him around all night. Nearly always he'd keep me gagging for it for hours, saying: `OK, you'll get my spunk, when I'm ready'. Just before he was ready to go home, he'd make me strip off completely then spunk in my face and mouth! I'd jerk myself off with his delicious cum all over my face as his curly-headed figure rode off into the night, turning back to sneer at me as he went! Depraved and disgusting, but fantastic, and all the better for having to wait and then beg for it!
Again, things weren't always so wonderful. Standing in a group in the dark at this cruising ground the last time I went there, some years ago, a guy started jerking me off. He was standing in front of me, and looked OK from behind. After we'd finished he turned round, and, horror of horrors, it was my Personnel Manager at work, who I didn't fancy in the least; although he was married with a kid he was far, far too camp for my taste! That put me off going up there for months, and then I just didn't have the energy to go walking for miles all thru the night. Perhaps I'll go up there again one day for old times' sake.
I never was comfortable with gay sexual activity at the urinals in public toilets, which was dangerous and really indefensible. Anyone could have walked in, including a child, or a straight man who would be shocked and offended. Of course we have probably all done it at times, but when I was arrested on one such occasion I vowed never to do it again. I have also been cautioned by police for activity within a glory-hole cubicle, but I fought this all the way, arguing, whatever the law says, that it was to all intents and purposes a `private place' out of the gaze of the general public.
I am sorry the glory-hole cottaging scene has largely died out, but I do see it could be seen as a social nuisance and a danger for minors. Perhaps under-16s should have separate toilet facilities, as they do in some public parks? But the real answer I think is glory-holes in adult bookshops/video/DVD stores, like they apparently have in the States. Here you would get a cross-section of men, including married guys, who wouldn't venture into a gay club or backroom-type scene.