Discovering Glory

After a thorough introduction to the intense pleasure of glory hole orgasms, a comfortable rhythm has established itself. After a deeply satisfying experience with another unknown man, weeks or even months can pass before thoughts begin to rise to the surface, to slowly become experiences as opportunity arises. The longer the time between successful visits, the more opportunity is likely to arise - or be created.

This time, it was a return visit to a bookstore/video booth complex downtown. Over the last few years, glancing over its stock had been worth a few minutes of time, though only once, years ago, did I pay to go into the video area.

19 booths for one price seemed reasonable then, even taking into account that price is not always the best measure of pleasure. Each booth had one screen playing one film, without any ability to switch or change the volume, which seemed old fashioned even then. Being open later than most bookstores, the number of men there at 10pm or so meant very few of the booths were free during my first visit.

Not all men know about how good it is to get off at a glory hole, something certainly true in the earlier decades of my life, including the time of that first visit to the booth area. Combined with the fact that much of the porn playing wasn't especially interesting, my memory had been of a somewhat disappointing trip.

Particularly since gay porn only rarely interested me at that time, though when it did, cumming to it was incredible. Bisexual porn has always been a turn on, but it tends, even now, to be a somewhat rare genre. Considering the lack of general overlap between gay and straight tastes, not really surprising.

The gay booths were at the end of the longish hallway, and during my first visit, I doubt more than a few seconds were spent glancing at the screens through the opened booth doors. Being at the end of the dim passage, without any interest admitted to in public, my short glances didn't reveal anything beyond the scenes of men having sex with each other.

Returning this time, nearing the entrance, a certain awareness sharpened my attention and anticipation, a now familiar and entrancing stirring between my thighs taking hold, spurred by knowing what could happen, building somewhere below my stomach, heavy and deep, almost frightening in its power. Its power adds to the sensation, a bottomless thrill that starts long before paying admittance and entering the dimness.

Walking more purposely this time towards the gay section, each side had its own glory hole style. On the left, two oversize booths were connected through a trefoil pattern, easily more than 2 feet across. Enough openness to allow all sorts of games, but still be a glory hole. Remaining unknown if careful, but fully open for all types of man to man activities. In both of these booths, the porn playing was at least interesting.

By now, any scenes of men having hot sex together attracts the interest of my cock, especially when it is more than just two men getting off. Group sex, especially such obviously enjoyed sex as three or more men can have, remains one of my fantasies, and any variation on the idea makes me hot. Especially considering that the first gay sex I saw in public was three men jacking each other off at the entrance area of a gay movie theater.

After entering and sitting on a light but sturdy, somewhat smallish, chair, the openness of the large glory hole was something new - all sorts of games could be played, with each booth easily fitting more than one person. A space where multiple people could play, in a number of variations. After a couple of minutes alone, the possibilities seemed pretty interesting, but would require more than just myself.

Admittedly, it wasn't that much of a space for discretion, and underlined the fact that I had forgotten to bring a condom. Something only rarely forgotten since a lost chance to actually fuck a man, who pressed his ass against the glory hole in clear invitation, a man whose hard cock had been rubbing against mine. And before that whose cock had been pumped by my closed fist. And before that, his playing with my cock, which followed his pulling me by the thigh into the hole, as his other hand played with my erect length. I was barely able to restrain my desires after all we had done, even if he so obviously couldn't. Following that occasion, I have tried to plan ahead better.

Nonetheless, the attractions offered by the space remained more abstract than concrete - the unyielding wall and narrowed focus are part of a certain glory hole intensity, even a larger sized one. The feeling of being flat against the unyielding surface of a wall, the sexual tension ending in a glorious release of hot cum, helpless against the talents of an unknown person.

Moving to the other side of the passage, there were three booths, each connected by a much smaller glory hole, rimmed with wood. Wood well worn and smooth when touched, warm, much more enticing than the cold metal of sliding panels. The booth in the middle of the three allowed the person in it to play with someone on one or both sides, while someone sitting in an outer booth could watch the glory hole action of the other two. Either position led to enjoyable possibilities never really considered before.

Two of these booths were playing gay porn, while the third played straight porn. The middle booth was perfect from my perspective, as it offered the widest range of possibilities, especially the idea of having two cocks to touch at the same time. Though the thought of being in a booth watching what was happening between two strangers had its own kinky flair - except that no one entered either side. Whenever I think that nothing much new can be discovered, something turns up again proving that sex between strangers is full of intriguing nuances, covering a wide range of tastes.

As I sat stroking myself, watching five naked men play hot games together at a backyard pool, the door to the booth to the right closed. Waiting a bit, stroking myself harder thinking of what could happen, I looked through, seeing an older man stroking himself. He was clearly hard, but no movement resulted from my beckoning fingers, except a faster rhythm of his hand on his shaft. Though the porn playing on his side was straight, he had clearly gotten aroused by watching my hand slide along my shaft, my legs spread to let my balls hang free, shirt open at the bottom to display my curled pubic hair. A fact which only made me harder, of course.

He seemed content to stay completely on his side, leaving after a couple of minutes, possibly cumming, without me getting any lasting satisfaction, taking my horniness to a more urgent level. Lacking a slider, the results of someone leaving the booth are not as abrupt as a panel closing. I left the middle booth after a short while, returning to the other side, sitting and stroking to the porn, without anyone entering. After a couple of years of glory hole visits, disappointment too has a familiar feeling - after a string of incredible experiences, most recent visits have come up empty in terms of sharing sex with someone wanting to play the same games.

Hope and horniness continued to drive me, so I went back to the middle booth, having noticed someone in the passage both times when switching previously. Probably in his 30s, wearing simple dark sweat pants, a cap, and a dark coat, glancing around with more than a hint of furtive interest. Which seemed promising - anyone who has gotten off at a glory hole will always take the chance to do it again. The cumming is just too good - once you have you have experienced the secret handshake, so to speak, it is essentially impossible to not want to feel it again and again. A feeling fully shared by the other members of the club.

Going in, I took off my coat and hung it on the folding chair, as no hook was available My zipper had been open for a while, a fact noted with mild surprise. My mind was already missing details as my cock led me forwards. Closing the door, unbuttoning my jeans, then sitting, legs spread, stroking mainly around the fairly flaccid head, my interest greater than its physical signs. Having gotten hard several times already, with the current porn not particularly interesting, it did feel good in my hand, but mainly from a sense of potential.

And that potential jumped when I heard the door of the other booth close, followed by the sounds of a jacket being hung up, Now was the point of letting myself truly wonder what would happen with another man's cock, beyond mere fantasy. Yet each glance through the low light of the opening just showed the blue darkness of his pants, without any indication of his desires.

Pants that gave no external indication of what he state he was in, as true now as when glancing at his crotch each time when crossing the hallway. The pants simply provided no way to see what he was doing, especially as the glory hole had a small field of vision, though perfectly positioned to see another man's mid-section. At least if you tried. I'm certain he noticed my body shift repeatedly while attempting to see what was happening on his side, my cock now starting to grow in length and thickness. The straight porn playing in his booth was more an excuse, really, than a major interest for anyone who entered the glory hole knowing what it was.

In another moment or two, I heard his pants go down, and began to contently pump myself into the proper mood to take a good look at him. Looking at a man's cock when I'm hard is impossible for me to resist. Bending towards the glory hole, it was delightfully plain that he had freed himself, already half-erect, our cocks similar in size. His dark bush nicely set off the shape of his growing dick, and snugged in balls, both easily seen and framed by his opened and unzippered pants.

Leaning back, sliding my jeans down more, my cock stiffening most enjoyably, the sounds of clothing being shifted was obvious. Bending to look again, his pants were finally around his knees, his cock swelling gorgeously in his hand, its rising length dominating both of us. He had a sexy cock, one that we both knew would grow sexier.

No doubt remained of what games we wanted to share, a truth making my own cock feel so good in my pumping hand, watching him stroke himself with increasing lust. His hand's rhythm was slow but firm, different than my own, centered around the flared ridge at the end of its straight length. My breathing grew faster and more obvious, desire filling my mind, replacing thought with animal directness.

After a moment of watching his cock rise, two of my fingers went through the glory hole, an obvious invitation, one I am increasingly unable to contain. One which continues to make me burn with excitement, the final step into experiencing deliciously forbidden thrills when accepted, as is almost always true. I could see his now extended cock, its head clearly defined outside of the foreskin, standing at an angle which showed how tempting my offer must have been at that point. An offer certainly as tempting to imagine being accepted, as both our cocks kept focusing our attention to what they desired.

Yet, a certain hesitation was noticeable on his part, dwindling though it may have been. The fact that the booth he was in played straight porn was no longer sufficient cover for someone who still cares about whether they are getting off with a man or a woman. My fingers went back through the opening, signaling their desire to play with his clearly needy cock. As they moved back following their beckoning, my jacking clearly showed how turned on I was. He then turned, and his cock came through the hole.

At first, only the head appeared, gloriously glistening, close and wonderfully tempting. I blew gently against the skin, the foreskin still clinging to the last of the ridge marking the end of his lovely cockhead, my cock swelling to a captivating stiffness. Seeing a man's cock reach fullness just added to the attraction, causing plans and possibilities to swirl.

Touching underneath his cock with my flat hand, he shuddered, and began to move his cock deeper through the glory hole, any hesitation melting as my palm and fingers continued to explore him, sliding down to lightly stroke the hair surrounding his tight ball sack. I rubbed his balls, occasionally straying along his slightly less hairy thighs, my wrist and arm along his cock, wanting to completely master him. My own stroking was starting to make me pant and moan, a habit seemingly impossible to stop, an integral part of the entwined pleasures which touching a new cock provides. The connection from one held cock to the other is pure male sex, something unimagined before experiencing it. Something I truly love, like a number of other men.

After riding that first luscious wave of lust, concentrating on his balls let me at least regain enough control to think of what would happen next. Letting a bit of saliva fall into my now withdrawn hand, it returned to smoothly glide over the full length of his shaft, noticeably heavier than when it first came through the wall. Standing up, my pants falling, it was almost impossible to restrain myself from orgasming as my cock touched his. Cock to cock rubbing is something I really enjoy, especially when pre-cum is involved. A man's pre-cum is different from a woman's wetness, or that of a warm mouth, a unique delight discovered first at a glory hole. At the hands of a man who got me off as good as anyone in my life, our cum mixing in glorious liquid orgasm.

By now, the natural sexiness of a man's cock is not surprising, distinct as each man's cock may be. But the perfect lubrication of pre-cum is overwhelming ecstasy, always beyond description. Holding both cocks in my grasp, I swirled my cockhead against his swelled reddened one, my eyes starting to close and open as the intensity crashed over me. Seeing myself like that with a man equally hard and turned on, sharing the same excitement, is pure bliss. Only possible when my cock has enveloped my will, while rewarding it. After all, this is what I had wanted.

As we kept touching, the change in friction was unstoppable, as I began to move my cock along his, moaning in a low tone. He was somewhat thicker, making the circling of his shaft delightful. The moaning had to be obvious, but I was definitely beyond caring, now moving along his shaft, slowly increasing the length and speed of my rubbing, beyond any concern or worry about what was happening with another man's naked cock, except to keep experiencing it.

I let more saliva fall into my right hand, then placed it underneath his cock. With my left hand pushing my cock down against his, my wettened right hand started pressing him against my cock, sliding along his silky stiffness. Time began to slow in a familiar orgasmic rush, and I felt myself slumping against the wall, knees weak, my cock in paradise.

And returning from paradise as I slowed, then almost stopped moving entirely, not wanting to cum so quickly. Riding on top of the wave, not letting it break, is a skill that prolongs the game, but also has its own cycle. After some timeless interval, his cock began to move back through the opening. In my current state, I wanted nothing more than to keep him in my hold, to keep his cock from merely remembering how good it was to get off with a stranger, one who had just been cock to cock with him.

As he pulled back, my left hand followed, determined to retain his interest by indulging mine. The hole, which had at first seemed small, easily allowed my hand to go through, then my arm, rubbing his still hard and lubricated cock as he took a slow, somewhat unsteady step back. I kept a firm sliding hold on to his now 3/4 hard shaft, my hand gaining the advantage as he just stood still, unable to withstand the pleasure provided by an unknown man worshipping his hot cock. Doing nothing to stop such pleasure continuing is a weakness shared by all cocks, and I knew that he could not resist it either.

A faith which was rewarded as we found a perfect rhythm and tension, his skin still well lubricated from our pre-cum and my spit. His cock remained the center of several minutes of beautifully mutual mindless attention. My hand went to his balls and the base of his cock, and felt his frozen hand in his bush. Pubic hair under my fingers is another attraction which has nothing to do with male or female, a kinky thrill indulged by running my fingers through its curliness, feeling springy resistance when pressed against my flat palm, or at the transition between hair and skin.

My motions started to convey a more demanding suggestion that he re-enter glory. An idea that gathered speed after his first slow, even now vaguely hesitant, movement, as the last remnants of his will were dissolved in mine. I wanted him in my complete control, owning his lust, and he seemed to understand how weak he was, his sexy cock in complete mastery of his mind and body. He finally accepted the ecstasy of giving in, a giving in that always happens for both sides in a glory hole. My own cock was again hard, my own jacking motion irresistible, knowing that more cock to cock joy was so close and so easy to enjoy.

For the third time, saliva fell into my open hand, and I reached down to spread it over our both cocks, his still with a slippery mixture which was slowly growing thinner. This time, the quickening of his breathing at my touch was obvious, and when my cock moved, the head sliding until the lower part of its flared ridge was just touching the underside of his, I heard a low moan, an almost grunting sound of surrender to what I was doing, his cock against mine. He began to slump slightly, helpless as my cock began to move. Which only made my pleasure in my handiwork grow, again fucking cock to cock with a man.

The slippery wetness between us expanded its spell, and as he slowly started to pump the base of his cock, my right hand on our shafts, my left feeling his now even tighter balls. His magnificent cock was the center of our attention, my desire to make him cum overwhelming.

My own cock was becoming a distraction, so I moved my left hand, the palm now cupping the rounded front of his erection, my right fingers and thumb responding to his own arousal, making him press his body against the divider, thrusting his cock as far into my grasp as possible, stopped only by the unyielding wall. My right hand was again moving along his shaft in much the same state of mindless perfection as before, the now familiar rhythm which had brought him back increasing in speed, wetness from the tip of his cock again making friction disappear under my hand.

I heard a gasp, and felt his cock unstoppably swell in my tight grip, something never before experienced. I actually felt the first surge of cum, watching his beautiful cock in my hand. This first jet of his hot cum surprised us both, so much so that it hit my jeans. This disrupted my concentration a bit, as I quickly moved my left hand in front of his cock, thinking that this was the first time such had ever happened. Sometimes, it is easy to not pay attention to little details, including noticing how one had been standing.

My left hand was being filled by repeated spurts of hot cum while my right hand kept jerking him off. As his orgasm dwindled, a new technical challenge started to make thinking necessary. Apart from the small amount of semen that had landed on my pants leg, my left hand was now filled with all of his hot cum. A large amount, almost overflowing.

Being differently arranged, cleaning was a surprising hurdle, requiring my attention. He left while I was still cleaning, but considering how well the inevitable mess had been handled, the lack of getting off was a minor point, especially compared to how good his cock had felt against mine.