Glory Time

There was a time, before Ian and I got serious, when I would go into Forest Hills and go to this gay bar I knew that had a back room for cruising.  It was a dimly-lit maze of flimsy plywood corridors and chain-link fencing.  Every five or six feet there were holes in the walls. There was even a small area near the back where several guys could get together and suck anonymous cock face to face; no names, no talking, just quick, sleazy sex.  That bar has been gone now for several years, replaced with a pet shop of all things!  But when I then back to those heady days of free cock, I grow hard and thank my stars I didn't get anything worse than a face full of warm, sticky jizz.

Glory Holes

Back in my first year of college, before I met Ian, there was this men's room in one of the college library's basements levels that had a glory hole between the last two stalls.  I used to go there from time to time; sometimes to get sucked, sometimes to suck.  Then I found a gay bar near my neighborhood that had back rooms.  I loved going there on a Friday or a Saturday night; guys would be in all states of undress, making out, but my favorite part of the back room was the glory holes.  A cock would appear and you went down on it -- total anonymity.  Didn't matter if the body the cock belonged to was hot or not, it was cock.  And when you're nineteen or twenty and hungry, cock is all that matters.