The Glory Hole 7

The Glory Hole

I try to write stories that are credible. A lot of the stories that I write are (almost) true. If they haven't happened to us exactly as I write them then the error is due to my poor memory! Yes, there is some (a lot?) of imagination interleaved, but if it didn't happen as I write it then it wasn't for want of trying.

Enjoy!

John and Helen Goodyear had been married for almost six years. John was 33 years old, 5' 10" tall and weighed 10 and a half stone (147lbs). While not a gym fanatic he still felt that he was reasonably fit. Helen was 27 years old, 5' 2" tall and weighed 8 and a half stone (119lbs). Her breasts were a very firm 36C, and she really didn't need a bra and very often went without one to John's delight as he never tired of seeing her nipples poking the front of whatever she was wearing. An additional pleasure for him was seeing other men's reaction when they realised what they were looking at. Having spent most of her adult life riding horses, Helen did not carry any fat around her waist, buttocks or thighs and it always gave John a rush whenever he saw her naked.

John and Helen enjoyed 'Al Fresco' sex, and indulged whenever the British inclement weather allowed it. While not wanting to have public sex, the thought of possibly being caught 'at it' always lent a touch of the excitement to their adventures.

John was a somewhat inventive, Mechanical Engineer and an avid woodworker. Both these traits led him to build ever more complex and skilfully constructed contraptions to enhance their sex games. Indeed before they were married he had constructed a crude support in the bath tub that Helen had needed no encouragement to drape herself over and be thoroughly fucked, he naked tits hanging down just asking for attention as they went at it.

They had no children and while they were not rich, they felt that they were comfortable. However, funds were a little tight at the moment and so they decided that the best that they could afford for this year's vacation would be a week in a static caravan at a site that a friend had recommended on the Isle of Anglesey. It was a relatively small caravan site apparently, where the static caravans were owned by individuals and rented out throughout the year by the site manager. It was only 100 yds from the beach, which was a supposedly, delightful, small cove, sheltered from all but the most vicious winds.

The day had finally arrived for their holiday. Seven days away from the hussle and bussle of their everyday lives. They were both looking forward to it and they were just into the final stages of their packing.

John opened the suitcase and carefully removed the innumerable pairs of panties that Helen had packed. His cock stirred as he did so, imagining her unable to wear knickers for the whole week. He knew that she would express her displeasure, when she found out, but would see the funny side of it when she had had time to think about it. He was about to close the case when he saw the three bras that she had also packed. With a wicked laugh he removed those and hid them back in her drawer along with the panties.

He closed the case and took it out to the car.

Back in the house, he called out to Helen, "I have put your case in the car, are you ready yet?"

"Yes, I'm coming now. " Helen called back.

As she came down the stairs John saw that she had dressed according to his request. She was wearing a white cotton blouse and a very short skirt, which covered her buttocks, but only just. It was similar to a tennis skirt, but ever so slightly longer. Her nipples noticeably protruded against her blouse, but the cotton fabric successfully hid the outline of her areola. 'More's he pity' he thought.

"All done?" John asked.

"Yep, I'm ready," Helen replied, giving him a twirl.

His eyes opened wide as he saw that she was knickerless.

"Very nice!" he said appreciatively.

"Mustn't do that in public, must I?" Helen said with a grin.

Eying up her clothing, he quipped, "Do you fancy a quick game of strip poker?"

She giggled and said, "Don't think so, I think I would be on a loser."

The drive to the caravan site was only about three hours, but counting an anticipated pub lunch, it would take them five hours.

Once on the motorway, John reached over and started to slide his hand up Helen's leg. She slapped his hand away. "Not while you're driving!" she cautioned him.

"Okay, but how about you lift the hem of your skirt and show me your legs?"

"Providing it's just a quick glance, but you can't watch my legs and drive safely."

"Okay, just a quick glance then." John agreed.

When John next looked Helen had pulled her skirt up and he would have been able to see her pubic hair had she had any. After she saw him look she lowered her skirt again.

"Ah, leave it up, nobody can see apart from me."

Helen retorted, "And all the truck drivers that we pass!"

"Yes, but you'll never see them again, will you?"

Ten minutes later he noticed that her skirt was once more revealing everything. WIN!

After about an hour Helen said, " How come every time we pass a lorry, the car slows down?"

"It's due to the wind resistance they produce," John said with a laugh, "Anyway you seem to be enjoying it, your nipples are standing out like chapel hat pegs."

"Hmm," was her reply.

They found a pub for lunch about 2 o'clock and John ordered his usual pint of bitter and a large glass of red wine for Helen. They stuck to tried and tested favourites of steak and ale pie for him and fish and chips and another red wine for Helen.

Back on the road John noticed that Helen had raised her skirt again. Pushing his luck he suggested undoing a button or three on her blouse.

"What not all of them?" she said with a giggle and proceeded to do just that, leaving the blouse open down the middle but still covering her breasts.

"Nice!" John said, approvingly, and as they passed another truck he flicked the right side of her blouse, baring her breast. Helen covered herself back up, but only after they had completely passed the wagon.

"Don't do that again," she said, if you don't crash doing it, then the truck driver might crash looking."

John did notice, however that often, as they passed another truck, her blouse would be inexplicably wide open only to float back after it was behind us.

As we turned into the lane to the site, Helen said, "Better get dressed then hadn't I?"

"If you insist," John said in a fake, miserable tone, thinking that things might even get better while they were here.

After they had been shown the caravan, the manager told them that there was a small shop on site and a toilet and shower block next to the main office. After asking whether they had any questions. he left them to their own devices.

The caravan was fairly basic as far as big static caravans go, but it did have a decent size double bed that felt fairly comfortable. Bonus!

Then came the discovery that certain items of underwear were missing from the suitcase.

"John! Where are my knickers and bras?" Helen screeched from the bedroom.

"Why are you asking me?" John replied, supressing a giggle.

"Because I put them in and they aren't here now," she replied.

"Maybe they fell out on the way here!" John said, bravely stifling a raucous laugh.

"Yeah, of course they did. Pig!"

You probably wouldn't wear them anyway." John said.

"You realise that unless you want the whole campsite to know that we've had sex I need knickers. Otherwise your contribution will be running down my legs."

"Maybe if we do it often enough I will run out of contributions!" John said.

"Fat chance of that. I will remember this," she said threateningly. (As an aside - indeed she still remembers it 50 years later!)

On the third day at the site John had occasion to use the lavatory in the toilet block and found that all the cubicles were occupied, apart from the one at the end. This, as it turned out, adjoined the ladies toilets. He went in and closed the door. As he did so his eye was caught by a hole in the plasterboard at waist height. A glory hole! Unsurprisingly there was no one in the ladies cubicle the other side of the wall, but it set him thinking. Helen had asked him some time ago what a glory hole was. He'd explained, but apart from her initial interest in what it was, they didn't discuss it any more. This had possibilities!

When he got back to the caravan he told Helen what he had found.

"Well I'm not going in there then," she said forcefully.

"You have missed the point, " John went on, "You go in the ladies side and I go in the men's and we can do it through the wall. You can imagine that it is someone else, to half fulfil your fantasy in the safe knowledge that it's me."

It was almost as if a light bulb had gone off in her head. "When?" she asked excitedly.

"No time like the present." John said, as his cock started to get hard.

Helen glanced down at the expanding bulge in his shorts,. "Well I can see that you're interested. Okay, let's go."

"Okay, but I think that we need a plan of action to make it somewhat authentic. You go in and take your knic....- Oh no, you don't have any, do you? Just lift your skirt or drop your shorts and pretend to pee. I will look through the hole and you can then stand up bend over and accidentally back into the wall, The rest, as they say will be history!"

When they got to the shower block John said, "I'll just check that the cubicle is empty before you go in. Wouldn't want a mistake would we?"

Within a minute he was back. He gave Helen a 'Thumbs up' and watched as Helen entered the ladies side.

John the went into the cubicle and closed and locked the door. Sitting on the toilet he peeped through the hole to see Helen drop her shorts and sit down. He had to assume it was Helen as he couldn't see her face, but he did recognise the shorts. The unmistakeable sound of a woman peeing came faintly through the hole. When she had finished, she stood up and made a very realistic impression of turning and bending over with her back to him to reach for the toilet tissue. As he watched, she stepped back until her pussy was 'accidentally' pressed against the hole in the wall. John stood up and wet his cock with saliva, before pressing it through the hole. He felt Helen align herself with his cock and push back against him. He needn't have lubricated his cock as ahe was dripping wet. He slid easily into her tight, warm pussy. He started to move, but Helen beat him to it and was soon banging herself backwards and forwards onto his stationary dick. Neither of them lasted long. He felt her contractions and heard her give a quiet moan, before stopping all movement. He took up the motion and within seconds flooded her pussy. After he finished moving she pulled off him and presumably stood up. John wiped his still dripping cock with toilet tissue and left the toilet block. He met Helen outside. Her face was flushed and she whispered excitedly, "That was phenomenal. We have to do it again before we leave. But not today, my legs are shaking."

"I am not arguing with that," John replied, already mentally planning the next time.

With only one day left of their holiday, they decided to eat at The Pilot Boat Inn, which was about a 35 minute drive from the caravan site. They had been before, but as it was only open Friday lunch time opening now they had missed it the rest of the week. The food was good and the ale better. Helen on a short-lived return to bitter had three pints, while John had two. On the way back to the caravan Helen became increasingly desperate for a pee.

"Stop at the toilets." she demanded as we pulled on to the site.

"Certainly," John said, "same cubicle?"

Helen grinned at him as she dashed in.

John entered the block only to discover that the last cubicle was occupied. He knew that Helen was so desperate that she hadn't waited for the confirmation that it was okay from his side. 'Oops," he thought, 'this is going to be interesting.'

His almost forgotten fantasy of his wife having sex unknowingly with a stranger suddenly reared its head again. The second cubicle was empty and John entered. He sat down and holding his breath, listened. At first he could hear nothing, but then he heard a sharp intake of breath. Then a whispered "Shit!" came to his ears. Straining hs hearing didn't help. He could hear nothing from the next cubicle. Clearly something was keeping the current occupant, as it had been a good ten minutes since John had sat down to listen. His cock required attention and he started stroking it, more and more rapidly as he heard a quiet moan. 'Could that have been Helen?' he asked himself. He strained to listen again. Another quiet moan, then the sound of bumping on plasterboard. The bumping became more rapid until it suddenly stopped with a male voice groaning, "Oh Fuck!" John's cum jetted into the toilet bowl.

John left the cubicle and waited outside by the car. Helen soon joined him, grinning from ear to ear.

"That was just incredible," she gushed. "So much better than last time, and that time was good. The way that you rubbed your fingers up and down my pussy lips and stroked my clitoris. I nearly came before you put your cock through the hole. That must have really pushed me to the edge, because your cock felt so much bigger this time. It was really good. Did you enjoy it as much?"

"You wouldn't believe how much I enjoyed it," said John. "I enjoyed it very much as well."

Should he tell her? Maybe not, but only maybe!