Gloryhole Swallows – Sep. 24, 2021 Pic(s)
The flickering neon sign of the alleyway bar cast a lurid glow on the grimy brick wall. A small, almost hidden hole, barely larger than a fist, was the only indication of the gloryhole nestled within. Tonight, it was my turn. I’d been watching, observing the anonymous encounters, the hushed gasps and moans echoing from within. Tonight, I’d experience it myself.
I positioned myself, the rough brick cool against my skin. A hand reached out, fingers brushing against my thigh, a silent invitation. I leaned in, my lips parting slightly, anticipation building. A warm, wet tongue explored my mouth, a skillful dance of passion. The taste was unfamiliar, exciting. The rhythmic sucking was intense, a powerful pull that left me breathless. I moaned, the sound muffled by the confines of the gloryhole.
The pressure increased, the tongue working its magic, teasing and tormenting. My body arched, my hips instinctively moving to the rhythm. The anonymous encounter was pure, unadulterated lust. There was no pretense, no expectation, just raw, primal pleasure. The intensity built, culminating in a wave of overwhelming sensation that washed over me. I gasped, my body trembling with the aftershocks.
Slowly, the pressure eased. The hand withdrew, leaving me breathless and wanting more. I lingered for a moment, savoring the lingering warmth, the memory of the intense pleasure. Then, I pulled away, leaving the gloryhole as silently as I had arrived, the taste of the encounter lingering on my lips. The night was far from over.
