My First Gloryhole Experience

I was 18, bicurious, and incredibly horny. I lived on campus in the dorms with a roommate sharing a room about the size of your average walk-in closet. It was impossible for me to meet people because I was horribly shy and because I was uncomfortable with my sexuality. Thinking myself straight, I was confused by my fascination with big cocks and I sometimes regretted my desire to suck cock. Fortunately for me I found a way to indulge in my compulsion to worship a nice fat cock while also staying anonymous: Craigslist.

One week I posted on the site searching for a gloryhole, I had become entranced by scenes of women sucking dozens of cocks one after the other and realized it was the solution to my nervousness. I would get a cock to suck and I would never have to talk or interact with the person on the other side of the divide save through electronic means. I finally received a reply that proved promising, it was difficult to find someone who: knew what a gloryhole was/bothered to read my post and could also host me since living in the dorms made sucking dick there impossible.

His picture was the deciding factor, in the past I had chickened out before following through with others for face-to-face meetings, it was massive! It was white, curved upwards, looked like it was 8 inches long, and was thick. I agreed to meet him in his room in a group home, I think.

It was in the fall when I first snuck up to his room in the attic, I had to shut the door behind me leaving me in pitch darkness. The stairs creaked and my heart hammered in my chest as I used my phone to light the stairs. I rounded the corner and reached the final ascent to the room, the entrance to the room proper was blocked by a quilt he taped to either side of the doorway. I shined my light to my left and saw his cock sticking out from a hole in a sheet of what looked like cardboard. He was achingly hard, a bead of precum at the very tip of his cock.

I was still nervous, I had only fooled around with one other guy before and that was a friend. I tentatively stuck out my hand and wrapped my hand around his throbbing shaft, I lazily tugged up and down his length when he exploded; his hot cum shot everywhere with some landing in my hand, on the stairs, and some painting the black jacket I wore to keep warm from the fall chill. My eyes widened in shock, he came immediately and I felt annoyed. Without another word I awkwardly left, but I came back and I did more than give him a handjob.

A week later he emailed me and said that my weak handjob felt good, I guess he liked ruined orgasms since he also seemed to like edging for a long time. I met him again, a bit more confident and much hornier. I met him at the top of the stairs and, for the first time, I got on my knees for him. His cock was limp and I took him in my mouth, my tongue massaging his shaft and head as I worked my head back and forth. I felt his cock swell in my mouth and the sensation of him growing made my dick strain against my jeans. The curve of his dick was intense, so much so that it made sucking him past the midway point difficult. After a while my jaw ached, his picture was deceptive but only when it came to length because his dick was incredibly wide in girth.

I would suck in my cheeks as hard as I could to try and milk him dry, sometimes I would run my lips down his shaft from the tip to his base, and other times I used my tongue to polish his cock. I was drunk on worshipping his cock, I remember feeling his cock throb as he was about to cum and I kept sucking until my mouth flooded with the bitter taste of his hot cum. I swallowed it all down that time.

We met successfully one more time where he came on my face and one time he complimented my ability to give him head: he messaged me saying that my blowjob was so tight that it felt like I was fucking him. After my freshman year I lost him and I deeply regret it, even now; I feel like it's only through anonymous meetups that I will ever be able to indulge in that part of myself. If you're reading this, you know who you are (Junk was your handle), I want you to know that I would drive cross-country just so I could have you paint my face with your cum again.