30 April 2009

SPRUNG pervin' through gloryhole

 (This is a true story...)

 Can't help my cock from gettin'hard just about every time I rock-up to a public toilet. My mum used to waitress at a hotel/bar that housed most all truckers and Railroad workers from the time I was 7 until I graduated from high school. I helped-out every weekend, bussing tables, dishwashing, etc and was familiar with most every regular trucker and RR worker that came through.

These men were rednecks in every way - misogynistic, macho-mouthed, Wrangler-wearing dickheads as stereotyped to perfection in most Hollywood B movies. I loathed these men on the surface yet never missed an opportunity to sneak a peak at their crotches, massive thighs and manly, meaty asses. There was no doubt about it...these were MEN, far removed from their boyish identities. Still, the majority of these guys didn't have a fkn clue about social etiquette or manners as demonstrated by almost any ONE of them at any given time...unapologetically adjusting their underwear to accomodate a growing bulge in tightly packed Wrangler jeans.

This was also my first exposure or acknowledgement of gloryholes as this hotel restroom had a glory hole that had been progressively dug-out over the years, obviously with the intention of having an unobstructed view from a private stall directly into the open urinal adjacent to the toilets. More often than not, mounds of toilet paper would be stuffed with warning to any faggot who dared wait around for cock. The entire stall was covered in inked and carved graffiti…pussy, tits, cock fucking pussy, etc…

On the rare occasion, I’d make a small opening so that I could peer through just enough to watch men unzip, pull out their cocks and piss heavy streams of piss that only beer-drinking can make a man do. I would tremble with fear of being sprung by any of the men, especially since most of the men knew my mum. Like most horny boys, I took my chances and soon there was very little toilet paper filling that glory hole when I locked the stall door behind me.

One Saturday afternoon, I had been sitting on the can for around 10 minutes, jerking-off, reading all the smut covering the wall. Then I heard a loud, drunk voice…deep voice, Texan accent. He punched open the swinging doors that opened up into the men’s room. The next thing I remember is the sound of one of those huge rodeo buckles being opened and a zipper being ripped down.

I looked through cautiously and about shot my load when I saw this 7 or 8 inch, hard as fuck cock turn the corner and start pissing at least 5 feet away from the trough. He just stopped, as if he was pullin' it out just FOR ME, hands behind his back, dick swaggering back and forth as he painted that entire trrough and wall with his piss. His Wranglers and cotton briefs had already fallen halfway down his meaty white ass…his stream finally taperred-off but his dick just got harder and harder, without him laying one finger on it.

Next thing I knew, his cock started throbbing. It seemed as though he was teasing me on purpose…one, two…pause…three , four and then…he pointed that big, circumsized beast sky-high. Then, without warning, that hung trucker blew a massive load, both fists clenched on either side, jeans all the way down around his boots by this point. I couldn’t believe my luck…I was gonna get away with it…I was hornier than I had ever been in my life...I started pullin’ on my own dick without thinking and was just about to blow my load so I turned away for a split second when the fucker scared the shit out of me.

“WHOMPPP!”... Before I knew it, the trucker had leapt up to look over my stall, pants and shorts wrapped over his boots. As he held his body off the ground, gripping the top of the rough cinderblock wall, he barked, ”Mother fucker, Fuckin’ FAGGOT! I should climb in there n kick your ass…you fucking cocksucker faggot-ass…watchin' me like a faggot, staring at my hard fuckin' dick...prayin' for a taste."

Then, that asshole spat on me..."Pathetic pussy...I should just piss all over your faggot face. Fuck...give you a close-up of this fuckin' dick-of-death you're so hungry for, fuckin' little cunt.”

He waited…I waited. He finally let go but stumbled a bit when his boots hit the ground upon landing. I heard his buckle and pants scrape the ground for a few seconds as he moved about. I looked through the gh, although had backed up from the wall, hoping he couldn't see what I was doin'. He continued to swagger around the mensroom for a few more minutes with his pants and shorts still down around his boots, his cock still hard as fuck, throbbing with every curse word that he spat out of his mouth.

Suffice it to say that I was freaked-out, scared shitless, totally mesmerized, yet surprisingly harder than EVER, as my eyes locked on the open space between the bottom of the door and the scuff marked tiles of the floor. As if contemplating his next move, he slowly approached my stall, Wranglers, 'Fruit-of-the-Loom' white cotton briefs (with unmistakable cum or precum wet spots, piss stains, etc), noticeably wet in the more well worn crotch area. One side slid all the way down, exposing the majority of his boot - whilst his other side was held slightly the top of his other boot. Here's the kicker...his over-sized 'Rodeo' buckle and heavy leather belt were now being dragged along the mensroom floor, just begging for attention from anyone within earshot.

He kicked the stall-door a few more times and told me to get my faggot-ass out so he could beat the shit out of me. Of course, I didn't budge except for reaching up to make sure the lock remained secure. This went on for a few more minutes until I heard a couple of men approaching. Thankfully, a few other truckers swaggered in to piss, but then started harrassing him as soon as they saw him standin' there with a hardon, his pants and shorts still at his feet.

The last thing I remember is him telling them both to get fucked as he deliberately moved back in front of the gh, then pulled his jean up, tucked his cock into his shorts, standing directly in front of the glory hole as the other two unzipped and took a piss behind him. I waited another hour or so before leaving the restroom. It’s been over 30 years since this incident and I still blow my load fantasizing about that man…and that beautiful, hard, cut cock that he proudly flaunted just because he could.

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