I stepped into the adult bookstore, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness. I’d never been to a place like this before, especially not to try something as taboo as a glory hole. But curiosity and a deep-seated desire for pleasure had brought me here.
As I entered the back room, the air thickened with the musky scent of male arousal. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting an eerie glow on the rows of wooden booths. I spotted the glory hole, its circular opening large enough for a man’s girth. My pulse quickened as I approached, sensing the anonymous dicks eager to penetrate this discrete orifice.
I knelt in front of the glory hole, my slender fingers gripping the wooden edge. The first cock poked through, smooth and thick, with a generous helping of pre-cum. I sucked it into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the warm shaft. The man on the other side grunted, his hips thrusting in rhythm with my slurping noises. Saltiness flooded my taste buds as I bobbed up and down, my hazel eyes locked with his anonymous gaze through the slats.
Next in line was a slightly smaller cock, with a prominent vein running along its underside. I wrapped my lips around it, teasing the sensitive ridge with the tip of my tongue. This man moaned softly, his breathing growing more labored. I took him deeper, sucking with increasing fervor until he erupted, his hot seed coating my throat.
The following dicks varied in size and texture – some hot and hard, others cooler and softer. Each one presented a new challenge and delight, from navigating the ridges of a ridged cock to milking a particularly sensitive glans. I lost myself in the sensory experience, my mind blanking out as I focused on the task at hand.
As the hours passed, my jaw grew tired, and my thighs buzzed with exertion. But the pleasure high kept me going, urging me to take on more and more cocks. I was a horny, eager slut, craving the illicit thrill of this anonymous sex act.
Eventually, the stream of dicks slowed to a trickle. I withdrew for a moment, catching my breath and wiping my chin with the back of my hand. As I gazed at my reflection in a nearby mirror, I saw a stranger – a young woman with black hair that had faded to purple, her cheeks flushed and eyes glazed with satisfaction.
I left the bookstore with a newfound sense of daring and a deep craving for more anonymous glory hole encounters. The taboo thrill lingered, an itch that could only be scratched by returning to that secret room of pumping, eager cocks.
