Gloryhole Swallows – 6th Visit Pic(s)
The familiar, musty scent of the alley hit him first, a comforting aroma that spoke of clandestine encounters and shared desires. This was his sixth time at this particular gloryhole, a worn, graffiti-covered brick wall that held a secret promise. He’d become intimately familiar with the rough texture of the wood framing the hole, the way the light glinted off the worn paint. Tonight, however, felt different. A nervous energy thrummed beneath his anticipation.
He positioned himself, the familiar thrill of anonymity washing over him. A moment later, a pair of lips pressed against his, hot and eager. The rhythmic suckling began, a practiced dance of tongue and teeth that sent shivers down his spine. He groaned, the sound muffled by the wood, a testament to the shared intimacy of this hidden space. The pressure increased, the rhythm intensifying, and he surrendered completely to the sensation, the taste of another man’s desire filling his senses. This wasn’t just a quick encounter; this was a connection forged in the shadows, a silent understanding between two souls seeking solace in the darkness. The rhythmic pulsing continued, building to a crescendo that left him breathless and spent, the lingering taste of his encounter a bittersweet reminder of the fleeting intimacy shared within the confines of the gloryhole.
