by Greg Scott
All the usual stuff about you must be old enough in your jurisdiction, etc. In other words, if you are underage, don't read this unless you have a really cool teacher who assigned it. Otherwise, come back in a few years, when nobody will yell at you.
Eight years ago, when I was ten years old, a neighborhood friend and I were playing catch in a park in our city. He said he had to pee, so we walked over to the restroom building. I waited by the sinks, tossing the baseball in the air and catching it with my flexible glove, while he walked into one of the two stalls. I heard the sound of his stream splashing into the toilet reverberating in the concrete block building. The room magnified the sound.
"Hey Greg. You've got to see this," Tom said as he opened the stall door.
I walked over to him. He was pointing at something inside, so I went in.
"See that?" he asked as he pointed to a rough-edged hole cut into the wall between the two stalls. "Do you know what that is?"
"Huh-uh," I admitted despite having a feeling that I would seem more grown up if I claimed to know the answer to his riddle.
"It's called a 'girly hole,'" he proudly proclaimed.
"Oh," I said.
I could tell by Tom's expression that there must be some piece of important information that I was missing.
"What's it for?" I asked, fearing that Tom would make fun of me for not already knowing this.
Tom frequently told me stuff that I had no interest in, but I always pretended to be fascinated. Usually it had to do with something about a penis or the older sister of one of our friends growing bigger boobs or whatever. Tom was two years older than I was, and his interests seemed to have changed a lot in the past several months.
"Well if there is somebody else in the next stall, all you have to do is stick your thing through there and it feels just like sticking it into a girl," Tom explained with great enthusiasm.
At ten I couldn't imagine sticking my penis anywhere that it might be seen by somebody else, and the thought of sticking it inside a girl almost made me sick. As a college freshman I'm no longer shy about having anybody look at my thing, but I'm still not what you would call even mildly enthusiastic about getting it close to a girl.
"Have you ever done that?" I asked.
"No, but my brother told me about it. That's who told me what it's called."
Tom's brother Bill was an obnoxious sophomore in high school. He face was covered with pimples. In all the times that I had been over to Tom's house, Bill had never said one word to me. That was fine with me because, whenever he talked to Tom, he called his younger brother, "dumb ass." He even called him that in front of his parents who didn't seem to care at all.
"Do you want to try it?" Tom asked excitedly.
"No, I think it's time to go home," I said.
I still had no clear idea of what he was talking about, but I was certain that the best plan of action at this point was to go home and get ready for dinner. This was Thursday. Every Thursday my dad took us out to some restaurant so that Mom wouldn't have to cook. We all got to take turns choosing the place we would eat. That night it was Mom's choice, and she always chose some place where we had to kind of dress up.
By the time I was a high school junior, I finally figured out why I wasn't really interested in girls. I started watching some porn online, and it didn't take me long to find the gay porn sites. After a couple nights of staying up late looking at pictures and watching the free clips of movies with all male casts, I came across a movie that used the same sort of hole that Tom had shown me that day several years before. I learned that Tom had been wrong about the name of the hole as he had been about so many things that he claimed to know.
Even after learning that the appropriate name is glory hole, in my mind I used Tom's description because I thought it was funny. Still I had never seen another girly hole in real life since that first time with Tom.
That changed during my first week at college. I was on my first real trip to the library. My history professor had assigned us to write a book review about any book dealing with American history before the Revolutionary War. The paper wasn't due for six weeks, but the prof said that he or one of his teaching assistants would have to approve the book at the next class. To be on the safe side, he wanted us to bring two books to class in case our first choice wasn't accepted. I wanted to get a couple good ones before my more than two hundred classmates claimed all the interesting ones.
I had gathered ten books, which I placed on a large table. I had thumbed through and rejected six of them when I realized that I needed to pee. I left my table full of books, hoping that none of the remaining four would be scarfed up by someone before I got back. I wandered around the floor and finally found a men's room along a deserted corridor.
When I entered, I saw two guys standing at the only urinals, so I went into a stall. The other one was already occupied, so it was now a full house. I closed and locked the door behind me, unzipped and pulled out my dick ready for relief.
As you've probably guessed by now, to my right I noticed a "girly hole," the first one I had seen in eight years. I briefly grinned thinking of my former friend and his excitement about seeing one in that park.
My reminiscence was short lived because from my standing vantage point I could see through that hole a hand moving up and down at a steady pace. The hand was wrapped firmly around a very thick and reasonably long cock, although it was probably shorter than my own.
Other than mine, I had never seen an erect penis in real life, so I was fascinated by what I saw. I felt myself shiver.
My stream stopped, but I don't think I actually even noticed that for a while. As I continued to gaze at the activity on the other side of that thin wall, I heard the two guys who were at the urinals move to the sinks to wash their hands. A few moments later, I heard their footsteps leading to the door as they left the room.
At about that point I noticed finally that I was no longer urinating. I looked down to check for final drips and was surprised to realize that my cock was hard and sticking up at better than a forty-five degree angle. I worried that my neighbor might deduce that I was watching him and stop the show he was giving me.
I decided to take advantage of the situation for as long as it lasted. I began to tentatively stroke my dick.
Suddenly the guy next door stood up. I panicked. I figured that he had suddenly realized that I was watching him. He would leave, or worse he would leave and then go find a campus cop to tell him that I had been peeping through the hole.
My sense of panic was intense but short lived. The guy turned and stuck his cock through the hole. In a way I knew what he wanted me to do. I mean how many reasons can there be for some guy to stick his dick into somebody else's cubicle? This was all completely new to me, except for what I had seen in the porn videos. I stood like a statue.
After a moment or two the guy whispered, "You can touch it if you want."
It was as if I had been waiting to hear those words since puberty. I needed no additional encouragement. I moved a half step and reach forward to grasp the rod. It filled my hand.
It felt heftier than I had imagined, and it was warm. I felt it tense and swell in my fist. I tentatively pulled it forward and then pushed it backward.
"Do you like that?" asked the guy.
"Yeah," I choked out my whispered reply noticing how dry my throat had become in the tension of the moment.
"Let me see yours."
His cock disappeared. I shuffled into position, used my hand to help my aim and pushed it through. He grabbed it a little roughly and began to stroke it with the same rhythm that he had previously been massaging his own a few minutes before.
"Very nice," he said. "Can I suck it?"
Now what eighteen year old is going to say no to that question. Well, I guess I would if the question came from a girl, but this was not a girl so I gave my enthusiastic permission.
I heard a little rustling on the other side, and then my cock was enveloped by a wet warmth that I had never felt. I had tried to imagine what a blow job would feel like, but my imagination did not do justice to the real thing. My head was spinning in ecstasy.
I thought of Tom's excitement about his girly hole and his description of how it would feel. Briefly I wondered if he had ever actually tested his theory. I didn't know because we had stopped hanging out less than a year after that day in the park. We really had nothing in common except an interest in baseball, and I had plenty of other friends who played ball. His main interest was sex, so I guess he finally found friends with whom he could carry on a real conversation about big boobs and whatever else straight boys talk about.
The guy ran his tongue around my crown, which made my toes tingle for some reason. He applied a little suction and pulled me further into his mouth as far as I could go with the limitations imposed by the thin wall of the bathroom stall.
I said, "I think I'm going to cum!"
I meant it as a warning, but he apparently took it as encouragement. His oral manipulation of me became even more intense. He uttered a quiet humming sound, and I could feel the vibrations through my dick and even in my balls although they were still inside my briefs.
With my first blast of my cum into his mouth, I wanted to scream. Instead I felt my face twist into what must have been some pretty bizarre expressions. I fired volley after volley into his talented mouth. I felt like I was falling in love with that guy. I wanted to always have the same feeling that I experienced at that moment.
Finally my climax stopped. I was exhausted even though the real exertion was all his. Even more than tired, though, I felt panic. I didn't know if I would be able to pay him back for his amazing treat. I had imagined sucking off guys, but that was when I was horny, not after the greatest cum of my life.
I need not have fretted. I heard the sound of his zipper.
"Thanks, buddy," he said.
That seemed odd to me, because I should have been thanking him.
It caught me off guard so I said, "You're welcome."
His door opened, and I heard him turn on the water at a sink. I peered through the slit in my door. I could see just a little of his reflection in the large mirror. He was looking down at his hands, so I never saw his face, but I did notice some gray in his hair. He must be a professor or something. That surprised me, although later I realized that even older guys have sexual desires.
That evening as I was getting ready for bed I grinned about falling in love with an anonymous older man during my first girly hole experience. I wondered how many more times I would fall in love this semester at that same location. That might be a good place to read the book for my report.
I love college!
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