Gloryhole Swallows – Oct. 8, 2021 Pic(s)
The dimly lit alley reeked of stale beer and desperation. October 8th, 2021. The date felt insignificant compared to the urgent thrumming in Mark’s groin. He’d been circling this glory hole for weeks, drawn in by the anonymous promise of raw, unadulterated pleasure. Tonight, he wouldn’t be denied. He pressed his face against the rough-hewn wood, the familiar scent of sweat and arousal filling his nostrils. A low groan emanated from the other side, a guttural sound that sent shivers down his spine. He felt a warm, wet pressure against his lips, a tongue exploring the contours of his mouth with practiced ease. The taste was intoxicating – a heady mix of saliva, sweat, and something else… something undeniably masculine. He moaned, his hands gripping the edges of the hole, his body arching in response to the skilled ministrations. The rhythmic sucking intensified, each stroke a wave of pure ecstasy washing over him. He was lost in the moment, the world shrinking to the simple, primal pleasure of being devoured. The experience was intense, raw, and utterly unforgettable. He pulled away, breathless and spent, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek. The memory of that anonymous encounter, that perfect, stolen moment of oral bliss, would linger long after the taste faded.
