I needed a blowjob.
It was sort of a ridiculous statement, because I didn't even know what a blowjob felt like. I just knew I wanted one.
I certainly couldn't count on my girlfriend. We were both 19 and each other's first partner. Sex with her was under the covers, a specific amount of foreplay until she declared herself "ready", put on the condom, slide in, and have intercourse until I came or she said "Are you done yet?" It was rare, it was uninspired, and I'm pretty sure she got even less out of it than I did. It was a bother for her, an obligation. She was so dead set against giving me head that she wouldn't even let me give her head as if that would require her to reciprocate.
Bitch.
We shouldn't have even been together, but it's not like I'm a "catch" and they were lining up for the chance to date me.
Fuck.
So I spent a lot of time jerking off to porn. My favorites were compilations of mouth cum scenes, just endless guys coming in girls' mouths. They might jack into an open mouth so you could see it happening, they might cum in their partner's mouth and then the girl would show the mouthful to the camera. It was fucking hot, and I wanted to know what that felt like.
Fat chance of that happening in my situation.
But then one night a scene popped up where a girl was taking a load from a random cock through a hole in a wall. Then she did another. And another.
What the fuck. Where has this been all my life.
I did some further research and found out all about gloryholes. Holes drilled between bathroom stalls or adult arcade booths designed specifically for random oral encounters. The cocksuckers were mostly guys, but who cares if you can't see them. At the adult arcades, you could watch a porn video and have your own fantasy while somebody else sucked you off.
I was almost dizzy with excitement of the idea of this.
I looked up some potential spots online. I decided to take a four-hour drive on a Saturday to a place that had good reviews, thinking it would be far enough away that nobody I knew would be there.
The building looked like a bomb shelter. A nondescript, windowless, unpainted cement bunker with a flat roof. The letters "X X X" were tacked on the roofline. It sat on what used to be a main highway years before the interstate system was built. Now it was just a barely maintained stretch of two-lane blacktop peppered with odd businesses running out of old gas stations and restaurant buildings. The ruins of a long abandoned drive-in theatre stood decaying nearby.
I was nervous. I drove past it, turned around, and drove past again several times before finally pulling in.
I entered the surprisingly colorful store. I looked around at the sex toys and videos, but wasn't really paying attention. My eyes kept going back to the arcade entrance.
"It's six dollars to enter," the woman behind the counter said to me, noticing my distraction.
I snapped out of my haze. "What?" I replied.