Glory Hole Fun At Home

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Redhead at the Gloryhole

Patricia At A Glory Hole

If there is one thing Patricia liked to do, it was suck cock. She really truly enjoyed it. It was pretty obvious from the start of our relationship that she'd had some pretty wild sexual experiences in college in southern California, and since. Together she and I had done bondage, anal, and made home videos. Knowing that, I wanted to see how far she'd go. 

Once evening, after dinner and drinks, I suggested we stop into an adult store with glory holes. I just wanted to see what she'd say. "Ok," she said. And we went in.

Documenting Their First Gloryhole

They had been talking about it for a while, mostly when drunk or having sex. A fantasy that seemed always to remain just talk. 

Then one evening, driving home from a party, they saw an adult video store.  They had been talking about sex, thinking about sex, and ready to have sex when they got home. He pulled the car into the parking lot and suggested they just "take a look." 

She agreed. 

Inside, they looked at lingerie, and toys. He saw her eying the large rubber dongs. They joked and flirted. She was obviously still buzzed form the bar, and in a very sexy mood. 

He saw the sign above a door. It led back into a hallway of four doors, much like a dressing room in a store. He suggested they go back there, just to "check it out." 

She agreed.

The rooms were tiny. The size of a small dressing room, just big enough for both of them. There was a video machine on the wall that took dollars to run, and, they both noticed at the same time, a circular hole, about hip-high, cut into the wall.

She kneeled down to peak through it. "There's a guy in there!" she whispered. She looked back though the hole. "Oh my god," she said, both shocked and excited. "He's touching himself!"

She stared through the hole, absorbed in the sight she saw. She couldn't see the man's face from her angle, but only his hips. He had his pants down and open and was slowly stroking a nicely-shaped cock.

"Oh my god!" she squealed.

A cock slid through the hole.

"Looks like you have an admirer," he said. 

She giggled. 

"What do I do?" she asked. "Did I invite him? I don't know what the protocol is?"

"I don't think there is a protocol," he said. "It's just a dick that wants to be sucked."

"Do you dare me?" she asked.

It was a clever thing for her to say. It gave him the choice. He could easily say no, and they could both leave and laugh about the "time they almost." And they could even jokingly feel sorry for the guy. "Poor guy," they'd say. "We left him hanging with his dick through the wall..."

But if he said, "Yes, I dare you," then it became easy. How could she turn down a dare? It made it fun, and silly.

She was looking at him with her green eyes. 

"Yes," he said. "I dare you."

Sharing Couple

By the time they finished dinner and cocktails, she was pretty buzzed. They had dressed up to go on an official date, which is not always easy to do after a few years of marriage. They had been talking about sex, and specifically, how to spice it up between them. That led to a discussion on unfulfilled fantasies. 

She admitted she had sometimes fantasied about being with her husband and another man, but, she said, she would never cheat on him, and the sticking point was always the other man. 

He, somewhat surprised and aroused by this, half joking and half serious, suggested they visit the adult arcade they'd walked past on the way from the parking garage to the restaurant. With a glory hole, he said, no eye contact. Would have no idea who they were playing with, and no strings attached. It's harder to feel jealous that way, he said.

To his astonishment, she looked at him with a silly grin and a sparkle in her eyes, and said, "Ok."

They finished their drinks. Without talking, they quickly got up. She hooked her arm in his to steady herself. Was she really that drunk? It was more the shaking in her knees of anticipation.

Our First Time to The Glory Hole

We joked about it at first. Then the joking turned into playful imagination of dirty talk. And then, one day, she said, Ok, let's actually try it.

Glory Hole Home Movie

We love making our own sexy home movies. And I always thought that the idea of a Glory Hole was sexy. I love the idea of a stranger on the other side of a wall, presenting his cock. Me on my knees, taking it eagerly into my mouth. 

We wanted to work the idea of a Glory Hole into one of our home movies, but how? We couldn't film through the wall. And if he was on one side filming, he couldn't be standing on the other side of the wall. So, they figured it out with the help of two tripods. 

One camera was set low, pointed up. The other set at head-height, getting a profile. Pretty clever, we thought. It made for a sexy DIY film.

Privates on Parade

I have no idea where this was first published, but it's great. It claims to be the world's first  cock line up. Somehow I doubt that. 

I wonder if in the secretly naughty Vicorian era one of the parlor games of the aristocray was a line up? Or perhaps a favorite of the courts of 17th Century France. Or even a game started by the Romans...

There seems to be something inherently sexy about the concept of an anonymous line up of cocks. Both for the women seeing the male specimens, but perhaps even more for the men, getting an opportunity to show their cocks to their own and other men's partners. It's both voyuerism and exhibitionism, and a safe form of group sex. 

The fantasy is easy to get started. First the woman look, admire, comment, compare. Then they move in for closer inspection. Feel them and cup them. And then, seeing them grow to their full glory, take them in their mouths. Women used to long narrow cocks getting to play with shorter, thicker ones. Getting to feel a curved phallus if they haven't. The wall offers permission to explore. The rules of polite society momentarily suspended. 

The guys can't get jealous, because they have no idea which woman is slurping on them. Maybe part of them tries to imagine it is their own faithful partner giving them pleasure. But probably more likely, they are thrilled to feel the wrap of a new and wonderful set of lips.

The wardrobe

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Marge Monday

Homer had a surprise for Marge on her birthday. It was intended as a gift to Marge, but Homer has a habit of giving her presents that actually he really wants. Like the one time he gave her a new bowling ball fitted to his fingers and with his name already inscribed. 

That selfish act caused Marge to take the ball, despite Homer, and try to bowl. At Barney's Bowlarama she met Jacques, a smooth-talking Frenchman, who gives Marge free lessons. Jacques makes his moves slowly in the seduction of Marge, first with a gift of a personalized bowling glove, and then an invitation to brunch.  He invites her for a second date, but at the last minute, Marge makes a fateful decision to go to Homer at work in the nuclear power plant, where he picks her up, and packs her out the door to his parked car for a quickie.

Since then, Marge and Homer have made a great attempt to keep their sex life both committed and passionate. They've tried lingerie and toys, and wonderful vacation sex. Homer, not the brightest, but who has some leanings toward inventing (self-hammering hammer), has come up with with a DIY home glory hole scenario which he can't wait to try out with Marge. It might be as much a gift for him as for her. But this time, she's not complaining.  

Bachelor and Bachelorette Parties

They were getting married and they were, with tradition, going to have a bachelor and bachelorette party. But they were on a budget, and it seemed like they could save money by combining the parties some how. They realized if they had it on the same night and ordered one large catering order, rather than two separate ones on different dates, they'd save a lot of money. Same for renting a location. 

Of course, the men wanted to have their party, and women wanted their own, too. Women together can get in so much more trouble and have more fun when on their own. And the men, if they wanted to watch porn, or have a stripper, they didn't want their wives, or girlfriends around. So they decided that since the room they'd rented was large enough to divide in half, they'd just build a quick divider wall. That way, the men could have their room and the women their own. 

Rather than pay for a male stripper for the women and a second stripper for the guys, they decided to create their own bachelor/bachelorette game. 

The men would line up along the wall, and insert their cocks through small openings they'd created in their wall.  The women would not know which cock belonged to which member of the groom's party, but would pick one they liked. The men on the other side would have no idea who's hand and warm mouth was closing on their body. 

The bride and groom would avoid worrying about if either of them cheated on the other with someone they knew. This way, each would have their last whirl without knowing who they'd hooked up with. The anonymity kept it from getting weird. They wouldn't be able to break into a fight and say, "well you cheated on my with so-and-so," because they wouldn't know. 

So the night of the party, after everyone had gotten lots of time to celebrate and drink, the men lined up at the wall, and the women picked out their protruding toys. The bride, going first, picked the largest cock along the wall. She knew it wasn't her fiance's, but it was so big and lovely, she had to taste it. She loved her fiance's cock because she loved him as person; but alongside the wall, presented with just a cock and nothing else, she was eager to have her chance to enjoy this one.

THE GRADUATE

After graduation, my college roommate Heather returned to her hometown, a small fishing town on the southern coast of Washington. After six months of sending in resumes, still had not found work. She'd mail me funny postcards with silly pictures or long rambling letters and tell me how bored she was getting in her small town. She said she could feel her unused education evaporating from her brain. She said she'd joined a bowling league, just to get out of the house, but hated bowling. The last time she had sex was in college, and it was going to drive her mad.

Being unemployed and in a small coastal town, she actually didn't have the internet. She could only get her porn the old-fashioned way, by going to the one porn shop in town, and renting it. She'd gone through a good many of the titles, and even bought herself a toy to help. But after a while, all the movies started to seem trite and monotonous. As she was looking for something new, she discovered the hall in the back, which lead to two booths, like the men's and women's bathroom. One was closed, but the other open, so she peeked in. It wasn't a bathroom, but a small booth, like a dressing room. She glanced around, and to her shock, saw an erect penis protruding through a hole in the wall. She was both repulsed and fascinated. It was the first non-rubber cock she'd seen in nearly a year. Curiosity overtook her, and leaned in closer for a better look. She inhaled the unmistakable whiff of a man's balls. Reflex overtook her better judgement, and she took the cock into her mouth. More surprised than the logger or fisherman or trucker on the other side of the wall, she sucked and slurped, eager and hungry, as if starving to death and only cum could fill her need. In less than a minute, the cock erupted, shooting its pent up sexual energy into her mouth. She lapped it up.


The stranger's penis withdrew, but before Heather could even wipe off her hands and leave, there was another cock. Heather took it, and then a third. In an hour, she'd sucked off five eager cocks. Her jaw was sore, her mouth salty, and her belly filled.

During that rainy winter, her visits became regular. She'd wake up, make coffee and work on cover letters and resumes. Then she'd shower and walk to the post office. Without any other job leads to follow that day, she gave herself a reward, and stopped by the porn store, and slipped secretly into her booth. There were four cocks that repeated; they became her new no-strings-attached boyfriends. There were others mixed in, making the variety always a surprise. Sometimes, when she had an especially long or thick one, she'd turn around and put it in her. Occasionally, she'd see an unfortunately small one. With these, she took pity and gave a special, dedicated blow job. She was like an angel of mercy, she thought, and this her community service.

Eventually, she got a job offer teaching at a community college in Oregon. Just as quickly as her community service started, it stopped. She packed up and moved, with no one knowing what had happened besides her, and of course me. At first, her candid, and graphic letters shocked me. I then began to enjoy them, and used them to generate a few fantasies of my own. At first, I just thought that Heather was letting off sexual frustration and exercising her creative imagination that had no other outlet. Since she didn't have a boyfriend or internet, I figured she was just writing homemade erotica, and I was her only available confidant.

It was only later, when I experienced my first unemployment that I realized what Heather must have been going through. Unemployment is hard, not because of the lack of funds, of the tedium of writing cover letters and mailing resumes, it's not just the boredom that comes from the unstructured days, or even being cut off from the social interactions of a workplace. It's all of those things, yes, but even deeper and harder to deal with is the loss of control. Normally in our lives, we feel like we can make choices, we feel like we can shape who we are and what we're doing, and where we're headed. But unemployment takes that from you.

Heather had lived on ramen noodles in college, she was plenty social and smart. She could deal with almost anything, I knew, except that deepest blow to one's self esteem and sense of purpose. When you're unemployed, one looks for anything to restore that sense of control. I realized maybe Heather had been telling the truth.

DO NOT LOCK

Derrick and Pam met at work and started dating, which was strictly against company policy. They knew they could both be fired if caught, and that made it all the more thrilling. They worked at a large wholesale shipping company. Pam worked on the fifth floor in accounts and Derrick in the shipping department. On breaks, Pam would slip down to the lower levels of shipping, and she and Derrick would sneak off like two high schoolers, looking for a private place. The old building was enormous--one of those giant 19th century buildings in the old industrial part of town. There were basements and sub-basements, boiler rooms, and hallways of old steam pipes. It had once started as a company that shipped plows, and then it was owned by John Deere, and then Sears, and finally by the current company (which we won't name).

Pam and Derrick found a secluded area down in the depths of the building's heating and air vents. They found a slot in the wall, much like a glory hole. That's how they were using it, when they got caught.

Steve was one of the foremen. He commanded the crew of fork lift operators. He was a hard ass, and always yelled at his crew to speed up, and then yelled at them if they dropped a box or cut a corner too close and nicked a pallet. "What the hell's going on here?" he demanded. He looked at Derrick, pants down, with his cock inserted into the air vent hole. Derrick pulled out quickly and pulled up his pants, red faced from the sucking he'd been getting, and from embarrassment.

"Who's behind there?"

"I don't know," said Derrick quickly.

Steve looked at him hard, like he wasn't buying it, but also didn't know what to say, and not knowing what to say, just made him mad, but he wasn't going to look like an idiot, so he just glared at Derrick, and then turned to the air vent. "You want me to come back there and get your ass fired?" he said.

From behind the wall, Pam murmured, "No."

"Well, do you!" Steve said again. He was angry and confused, and when men who are not very smart are like that, they're dangerous.

"Do you?"

"No," Pam repeated, this time louder.

Then Steve's face relaxed a little. He was still mad, but no longer confused. He'd seen his opportunity to take advantage of the situation. "Want me to come back there and drag your ass upstairs to HR?" He unbuckled his pants and tugged out his cock. "Well if you don't want me to come back there, then I'll come here." He walked over to the air vent and pushed his limp tool through the slot.

Derrick wanted to rush up and punch Steve. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd much rather get fired than watch his girlfriend suck another man's cock, especially a jerk like Steve. It had all happened so fast, and yet seemed to move in slow motion. Derrick could not form words, could not raise his arms or move his feet. He stood completely frozen. It wasn't like TV, where the hero jumps into action. It was shock. It's like when someone is about to get hit by a car, they don't jump out of the way, but stand fixed, staring as the car gets closer and closer.

All the emotions of rage, fear, embarrassment, and shock raced through Derrick as he stood there. It was like it wasn't really happening, but that he was watching a movie. He saw Steve's bare ass begin to pump. Steve moaned, "That's it bitch, suck me off and I won't turn you in." Steve was getting the power trip of his life. He could yell at the fork lift guys, but nothing was as powerful as forcing a total stranger to suck him off. And in front of her boyfriend. That was the ultimate.

Derrick was horrified, but strangely, he was surprised that his cock, as if totally independent of his brain, was growing back to a full erection. It was totally wrong, but yet, it was strangely exhilarating.

Steve was getting worked up, red faced and sweating. He was grunting like a hog. Slurping and pulping sounds were coming from the other side of the wall as Pam choked down his rod. She didn't think of herself as a slut. In any other circumstance, she'd never want to suck off Derrick's foreman. But the simple fact was that a penis is a penis. When it came down to it technically, it wasn't any different blowing one cock as another. She couldn't afford to get fired. Especially not with the economy. She had friends who had been laid off and trying to find work for more than 8 months. She didn't really want to suck off Steve, but it was better than unemployment. And once she started, her motions just took over. She always thought positive attitude is what makes the biggest difference in life. If life gives you lemons, make lemonaide, she'd always say. In this case, if she had to suck Steve off, she was not only going to do it, but give him the best fucking head he'd ever had and ever will have in his pathetic little petty tyrant life, she decided.

She'd always worried about going too hard and hurting Derrick, nicking him with her teeth or something. She cared about him, and naturally, didn't want to cause him pain. But she could give a flying fuck about Steve, and so she really got into it. She imagined herself a pornstar, and sucked him as hard and sloppy as she could. Her gusto even surprised her. She jacked him with her hand, twisting it with each thrust as she spit on his cock head and then jammed it to the back of her throat. The deeper she plunged, the more she gagged. The more she gagged, the harder Steve shoved his cock down her throat. The harder he thrust, the harder she went down on him. If the wall had been thinner, she probably could have taken his whole length.

Steve was not used to getting his cock sucked, and Pam's enthusiasm soon had him erupting. It seemed the poor bastard had never been sucked so hard and he shot the biggest load of his life, every single drop his body had held in his sexually-frustrated balls. It splashed down Pam's throat and across her face.

Derrick couldn't see any of this, of course, but he could clearly picture it in his mind. He could tell by the slurping and gagging noises that Pam had been given Steve head like she had never done before. This had made Derrick insanely jealous, enraged, and really turned on. His cock was rock hard when Steve pulled out of his girlfriend's mouth. Steve zipped up quickly. His dick withered back to its small size. Without a word, he turned and marched down the long, empty hallway, back toward the shipping warehouse.

With Steve gone, derrick instantly unfroze. He went back to the wall, pulling out his hard cock. Before Pam could get off her knees, she had another cock poking at her face. She recognized it, of course, and took it in. Her knees were sore from the cold concrete, and she was worried that her lunch hour was almost over. She wasn't in the mood to linger any longer than she had to, so she gave Derrick the same hard, fast, and sloppy porn-star blow job she'd just given Steve. It was kind of sexy to be sucking off her boyfriend while another man's cum dribbled down her chin. And that's exactly what Derrick was thinking as he was getting sucked. Steve had soiled his girl, like a stallion takes another stallion's mare. The only way to reclaim her, in this primal animal way was to blow his load into her, washing over the other man's semen. Derrick hadn't studied animal behavior. He didn't know that, in fact, this is exactly how wild mustang stallions act if another stallion has just had sex with his mare. He wasn't going to let his girl spend the rest of the afternoon upstairs at her desk with only Steve's cum in her belly. He was going to shoot his load, too. And he did.

He came and came, harder than he could ever remember, his heart racing, his energy wild and on fire.

Pam swallowed every last drop.

Then the each returned to their work.

The story could end here, but it didn't. The next morning, Steve came up to Derrick. Steve had been turning things in his mind. A slow man, he needed the night to think it over. A man hungry for control, power, and sex, he wasn't going to let Derrick and his cock-sucking girlfriend off the hook. He slipped up to Derrick and said under his breath, "same place, noon."

Derrick realized it wasn't a request--it was blackmail. The whole morning he turned it over in his mind. Should he go to HR and report Steve? Would they believe the younger, lower-level employee, or the foreman, who had been with the company for years, and other than being an asshole, had a perfect work record. Derrick couldn't just quit. And he couldn't risk getting Pam fired. He hated being forced to do anything, but conversely, he was sort of getting more and more aroused as the hours passed. He recalled the sounds of Pam choking on Steve's cock, and how eagerly she took his load right afterward. It was sick, he knew, and wrong. But being sick and wrong, it was impossible not to think about. As much as he wanted to deny it, he was actually looking forward to noon, and if Steve shot his load into Pam first, Derrick would get to follow up. He'd never gotten into the Japanese bukkake porn videos, because they just seemed too over the top. But the thought of very real cum dripping down Pam's face as she sucked him seemed totally different. The more he imagined it, the more he was looking forward to noon.

The only thing that didn't sit right with him was if he let Steve repeat what had happened the day before, it'd become something Steve would demand at his will. And the longer it went on, perhaps the more Steve would demand.

Derrick only had a few hours to find a solution. Then it came to him. When he completed an order pull, he returned to the order clerk for his next shipping order. TK, the clerk, was a tall, skinny kid that liked to tell stupid dirty jokes each time a forklift opp came by to pull an order. TK had a new dumb joke of the day, and he'd also try to get as many of the lift opps to go with him to the strip club afterwork.

"Hey, bro, did you hear the latest..." said TK. Derrick listened to the joke, and then, as if sharing a close personal secret, looked both ways, and then leaned forward.

"Did you hear about Steve and his stripper..." Derrick asked.

"No, bro! What's the what?"

"Shhh," said Derrick. "You gotta keep this on the DL."

TK nodded. Then they both looked to make sure no one was in earshot.

Derrick told TK that Steve had hired a striper from the club, and was getting a little side action on his lunch break. In hushed tone, he told TK how he'd seen the boss and the stripper slipping into the east door and sneaking down a hall. Derrick said that he followed them, just enough to see what was going on.

"That dirty dog," said TK.

Derrick nodded, "and I heard him on his cel phone this morning. I think they're hooking up again at noon..."

Another lift opp came up to the desk for an order, and Derrick gave TK a final nod, and left to pull his next order. He knew that the trap had been set. TK wouldn't be able to keep the news to himself. By noon, the entire crew of lift opps would know. Derrick ran the scenario in his mind: Steve would show up at the air vent at noon, and pull down his pants, and present his cock to Pam. She'd go to town on him, just as the crew would be sneaking up to catch their boss with a stripper. If Steve got caught with his pants down, then it would be the whole crew's word against his up at HR. They could fire Derrick as an individual easy enough, but they couldn't replace the whole crew. It'd shut the company down for weeks. Steve's blackmail would be done before it even started.

It was a perfect plan. And like any perfect plan, it went wrong.

It started out just as Derrick imagined: Steve arrived, looking smug, and pulled out his cock and shoved it in the air vent. Pam took it and began to work on it with her new-found porn-star skills. Steve was getting into it, letting his moans and grunts echo a little too loudly down the cement halls. The crew slipped up and stood, gawking, as they saw their boss with his pants down at his ankles, thrusting his hips into an air vent. Steve was grunting and thrusting with all his might as Pam worked his cock from the other side, gulping and slurping. Steve began to twitch and clench his butt as he shot his load. When he turned, his dick limp and coated in Pam's spit, he saw the crew. Derrick could see his plan falling perfectly into place. He saw the tension suddenly seize Steve's face, scrunching it up, the veins on his forehead pulsing. Steve was not a quick-witted man, as we've said. And Derrick knew it. The element of surprise was his, and Steve had been caught off guard.

However, Derrick had overlooked one thing. He'd told TK that the boss had hired a stripper to make the story sound more credible, and to throw off the idea that the woman could actually be a company employee. As long as Pam stayed hidden in the air duct, her identity would be safe, and only Steve would be identified with the violation of company policy.

Derrick assumed that the crew, seeing their boss breaking the rules, would suddenly rally against him, like a mutiny. He didn't realize that the guys, thinking their boss had just scored with a stripper, instantly thought of Steve as 100% cooler.

Just as the flustered and embarrassed Steve was about to shout a threat about firing all of them, the crew began to clap and cheer. "Hell yeah!" they shouted. "You da man!"

Suddenly Steve stood taller, puffed up with their cheers. We was not the asshole boss--he was the stud that got glory hole blow jobs on his lunch break--inside the warehouse! Steve was now basking in the crew's instant admiration.

"Way to give it to that slut!" yelled TK!

"Yeah, stickin' to the dirty whore!" shouted another.

Steve beamed, triumphant. But as slow as he was, his simple mind did grasp the situation. If he was the only one caught, it was still his ass on the line. "Well, boys," he said, beaming. "Don't just stand there! Line up! This bitch can suck a golf ball through a garden hose!"

To Derrick's shock and horror, the crew did exactly as their boss said. They stepped right up, and one at a time, unzipped and gave their cocks to the hole. There was no way for Pam to get out, without walking right out in front of everyone and being identified. She feared if she didn't take the other men's cocks, they'd come around into the vent and then who knows. Have their full way. She liked the relative safety of her small station. She didn't want to see the crew. Behind the wall, she had no idea who's cock was in her mouth. And, as she'd thought the day before, a penis is pretty much a penis. They all worked the same, and she worked the same on them--but she also loved the slight variations. The small ones she could take deeper, the large ones that made her feel like she was in her own private porn movie. The thick ones, the ones that curved up, and the one that curved to the left. She wondered who's that was as she gobbled it.

For the whole hour, Derrick stood, trapped in the trap he had set, watching his girlfriend take load after load of his co-workers' cum. The whole hour the guys lined up one at a time to get sucked. Derrick wondered how Pam was holding up.

She was tired, and her knees hurting, and her jaw sore. So after a while she stood up in the vent and reached back and positioned the cock heads into her pussy. Standing was much easier, and with just rolling her hips on the wall, she could give the guys what they wanted. They'd pump away, and she'd let them fuck her and she'd try to feel when they were getting ready to shoot and then pull back and finish them off with her mouth. It was so much easier on her this way, and she could last longer. Sometimes they'd shoot without any warning. She probably took three or four loads in her pussy and six or seven in her mouth. She had no idea how many were out in the hallway--a big group or some coming back for seconds or even thirds.

The men were all happy, gleeful as a high school football team that has just won regionals.

When it was all done, Derrick waited for Pam to reappear from behind the air vent. He felt terrible for getting her trapped like that, used and passed around all the men of the shipping department. He prepared to see a woman that had just been through hell. But when Pam returned, she looked the same as always.

"I guess that was taking one for the team," she said with a smile. She laughed and turned to go. Derrick didn't know what to say, so he followed her.

"You're ok," he asked.

"Sure," Pam said casually, more concerned with getting back before her break was over. "Let's just not make this every day."

"Yeah," said Derrick.

"Maybe every Monday," she said. "Start off the week."

Derrick could not believe what he was hearing, but something had certainly changed in Pam. The Pandora box had now been opened and there was no shutting it again. So they agreed to every Monday.

The workers loved it. It kicked off their Monday, and they were far more productive during the week. With work and morale up, Steve relaxed as a boss. He stopped being such a jerk. Upstairs, management noticed the improved performance, but the only person on the fifth floor who really knew, was Pam.

POLICE RAID SPRINGFIELD KWIK-E-MART IN SEX STORE STING

SPRINGFIELD--The latest image to emerge in Simpson sex scandal, shows Marge Simpson, wife of Homer Simpson, at an adult gloryhole. Police Chief Clancy Wiggum shut down Kwik-E-Mart, where proprietor Apu Nahasapeenapetilon had been running an alleged covert glory hole in the storage closet.

The image seized by police shows Mrs. Simpson in a compromising position. The penis in the image is alleged to be that of store owner Nahasapeenapetilon. “I have very loyal customers,” said Nahasapeenapetilon. “They come for the squishees, I don’t know anything else.”

Numerous Springfield residences sited that Mr. Nahasapeenapetilon enjoyed a brief period as Springfield's leading ladies' man following a bachelor auction in November1997. Witnesses say he spent the days following the auction on a whirlwind of dates. Mr. Nahasapeenapetilon’s dates reportedly ceased when his mother announced his arranged marriage to a woman named Manjula. The two were legally married in Springfield that year.

Mr. And Mrs. Nahasapeenapetilon are the parents of octuplets: Anoop, Uma, Nabendu, Poonam, Priya, Sandeep, Sashi, and Gheet.

Friends of the Nahasapeenapetilon report that the couple had a mostly happy marriage, despite marital problems caused by Mr. Nahasapeenapetilon’s long hours at the Kwik-E-Mart, and the strain of caring for eight children. However rumors of infidelity were frequent, sources say. Following an infidelity to his wife, Mr. Nahasapeenapetilon legally change his name to Slime Q. Slimedog, as ordered by Manjula.

Rumors surfaced of an illegal sex booth in the Kwik-E-Mart, after reports of strange noises emanating from the storage closet. Springfield police were issued a search warrant from Judge Constance Harm. The Qwik-E-Mart video survelence tapes as well as photographs were seazed in the raid. Authorities have yet to make a formal report, but Chief Wiggum stated, “We are looking into it. Yes…looking into all of it. Very carefully.”

THE SWING SHIFT

Carl and Deb had been married a long time--since high school. Carl was in construction, the electric trade, but the economy had been tough the last couple years. When he finally got a sub-contract at a new housing development, he took it. It was long hours, but he was glad for the work. The long days left him away from Deb, working a lot on his own. He had to get the entire house wired for the finish crew--he had to have all the wires in before the dry wall crew came to hang the sheet rock and tape and mud, and the cabinet makers to install, and such. He worked overtime alone.

Deb would come with his dinner. Taking a short break, they started thinking about something fun to do. After so many years of marriage, their bedroom sex life was pretty dull. Carl was always so tired, and so stressed about getting fired. But on site, he still had energy, and Deb was renewed with the thrill of doing it on the construction site liked they did when they were first married.

Deb was snooping around while Carl ate, when she found a hole cut into wall where the electric was going to go. She saw Carl on the other side, and motioned for him to come over. It didn't take Carl long to realize what she had in mind. He dropped his pants and pushed his cock through to her waiting mouth.

They were having a good time when the finishing crew showed up. The foreman hadn't warned Carl that he'd sent the crew in early to try to push the schedule. The crew stood in disbelief, seeing Carl on one side of the wall and Deb on her knees on the other side.

Jim, the leader of the crew was not amused. The foreman had stern words about the electric taking too long, and falling behind schedule could get them all fired. There were plenty of unemployed in the construction trade ready to take their jobs. Carl knew that he could be fired on the spot if Jim reported him. Deb seemed to pick up on the tension, too. She could see the look on Jim's face, and the worry on Carl's.

"I'm here to help things along," said Deb. Carl had pulled out and hitched up his pants. Jim looked at Deb and then at the hole in the wall. He face relaxed and he smiled.

"Oh, you're on the crew then," he said. "Well that's different."

Deb returned his smile and staring at the bulge in his Carhartts, gestured him behind the wall. Soon Jim's cock was wagging through the hole and Deb took it up. She sucked him hard and fast and he came like a man who had needed to cum for months. Before she could wipe her mouth, another cock was inserted. She finished off each of the crew in turn. Some would work while she worked. She could hear the hammers and saws and heavy boots clomping around the job site. The smell of plaster and sawdust and adhesive was a real turn on.

That night, both Carl and Deb returned home exhausted, but so aroused by the turn of events, they made love in bed like they had when they were first married. Carl had overheard the crew bragging about Deb giving the best head they'd ever gotten and had made comments that Carl was the luckiest son-of-a-bitch on the crew. Carl had always found Deb attractive, but hearing it from the workers reinforced it. He felt like his wife was the hottest thing ever and that he was, indeed, a lucky son-of-a-bitch.

The next night they returned, and noticed the crew had drawn all over the wall. It'd soon be mudded and painted over, but the comments proved how excited the men had become for their own job-site glory hole.

Deb stripped and took her position. She serviced the crew again in turn. The morale had definitely improved and work picked up. They finished two days ahead of schedule and were all given small bonuses by the foreman. The foreman never knew exactly what had turned the crew around, or why they smiled so much when collecting their final paychecks. He noticed that they were al very loyal to Carl, and had nothing but good things to say about his work. So the foreman decided he'd hire Carl again for the next big project.

GLORY PARTY AT FRAT HOUSE

If you've been reading this blog, you'll know about Patricia. She was the most sexually complex girl I ever knew; there is a fine line between carefree and careless.

Patricia grew up in Oregon and went to the state school where she joined a sorority. I had been one of those students who never joined the Greek system. Paying my way through school, I was going from class to part-time job, and then back to the dorm to study for tests. Work hard, get good grades. That was college for me. For Patricia, it was an endless series of parties. If I was too far to one side on the academic, she was to the other extreme of party til you puke.

Obviously, not every frat boy or girl is at college just to party. I'm not making a cliche generalization about tens of thousands of students in the US. But it does go without saying that frat houses at particular state schools have a deep history of downright party debauchery. A lot of people know about the keggers with giant bubble machines, the jello or mud wrestling, naked pool parties.

For someone who'd never been inside the system, it was sort of like the Free Masons--you assumed things were normal, but never really knew the depths of the secret rites, rituals, and initiations.

Apparently, one frat house had bored holes in one of the walls between a bedroom and one of the public rooms, said Patricia. When parties really got going, frat brothers would go to the room and put their cocks through the holes. Drunk sorority chicks would service them on the other side. It became a badge of courage, bragging rights. For some sororities, it became a form of initiation.

I knew all about "Girls Gone Wild," and some of the dares the college girls would do, but to actually have glory holes in a frat house? I wasn't going to fall for another Patricia lie. But she pulled out her old laptop and after sorting through folders, she showed me a snapshot. It was exactly as she described: the sorority chicks with party bracelets on their wrists, the half-empty keg cups scattered. That's Amiee and Lindsey, two sorority sisters, Patricia pointed out. There were both in their bras, and were inspecting a hard cock protruding through a hole in the wall. See? said Patricia. She loved to be right.

I had heard Patricia talk about Amiee. She was two years older than Patricia and was her appointed older sister of the sorority. I knew she'd played some role in the "initiation" of Patricia into the sorority. I asked Patricia if she'd been initiated on the wall. No, of course not, she said, in the high-pitched voice she used when she was flirting or lying.

It was hard for me to imagine her story was actually true. But she had the photo to prove it. What I didn't know and questioned, was to what extent Patricia had participated in this frat house tradition. I knew that if she had one photo, she probably had another. A few days later, when she was gone, I snooped around until I found her old laptop. It had an old version of Windows on it, the kind we used in college with the single password at the start up. I thought for a while, and then simply typed in the name of her childhood cat. Seriously, it worked.

There's always a danger in snooping. You have to be ready for what you may uncover. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. I found what I had feared. There was an image of Patricia on her knees in front of the wall. The camera flash seems to have caught her unaware. She wears her white blouse and black skirt--an outfit she still wears to go out to dinner and dates with me. She wasn't lying about the wall, but she was lying about her participation. As long as I've known her, she's been an eager initiator of oral sex. She loves to have my cock in her mouth, and apparently, stranger's cocks, too. I really should have known, but still, it was a shock. I closed the laptop and promised I'd never snoop again. But of course it was too late. Never again would I be able to feel her mouth on my cock without thinking of the frat house wall.

DIY GLORY HOLE

The guys at Home Depot encouraged them. They said, “You can build it, we can help.” The guys had no idea how they would end up helping.

In a suburban neighborhood were three desperate housewives. Two were married, and one, Nikki, was divorced. Sex, of course, was their favorite subject. They would gather each afternoon for margaritas and gossip. Sometimes they’d watch talkshows about sex or soap operas about sex, or review XXX DVDs as if they were a book club.

They also took classes to fill their time, and that’s how they meet the three studs at Home Depot. The desperate housewives signed up for seminars in basic construction. The hands-on use of power tools boosted their confidence. They started flirting with the handsome instructors. The three middle-age housewives decided to build something fin in Veronica’s living room— a little “home improvement” as a group activity.

When they were done, they invited their instructors over to see their handiwork.

As the guys stepped into the room, they instantly noticed a large wall. Their eyes noted the construction and then the three round holes. What are these for, they wonder, and then exchange amazed looks as they get the idea.

“We need your help, guys, to finish our project,” said Alana.
“We didn’t have the right tools,” said Maria.

They tell the three men that they need to test out their tools, and if they would help. The men are clearly embarrassed, a little uncomfortable, but being put on the spot makes them brave in the moment. They agree.

“Here’s how it’s going to go,” said Alana, the tall blonde, their leader. “We’ll go to the other side of the wall. You each stick your cock through one of the holes. We won’t know which cock belongs to which stud, so it will be totally unbiased. We’ll measure length, girth, shape, and overall appearance.”

“Also,” said Maria, “Two of us are married and one divorced. She’s the one were testing for. But you will not know which of us it is.” The men’s eyes—wide with excitement—looked at each woman in turn: Alana, the tall thin blonde with the blabby blue tanktop and thin summer skirt. Maria, the busty Latina with the dark mysterious eyes, or Nikki, the other blonde. She was a little heavier than Alana, but buxom, and naughty.

The men understood and remained behind the wall, while the women went to the other side. Withinn seconds, three thick cocks were dangling through the holes. Two were already semi-erect, anticipating.

Alana pointed out each fine attribute of their new sampling. It was like shopping. Perfect. Maria stepped back a grabbed her camera to document their little party. Nikki curiously reached for the first cock. It jumped in her hand, becoming harder. She went down the row, giving each a good stroke. She could hear a corresponding moan behind the wall, but didn’t know which man she was arousing. One was a tall, hard-body stud, the other more like a college student, and one was sort of nerdy. But behind the wall, none of that mattered. At a bar, she would have gone totally for the muscle guy with the buzz cut. Maybe the college guy if she was drink and he was aggressive, but never, not in a million years, for the nerdy guy. As she went down the line of cocks, they were all so beautiful.

The one on the far left was having a hard time getting it up. Maybe he was too nervous,but the one on the right was thick and firm. Nikki just had to feel it. She tugged down her stretch Capri pants just enough and with Alana’s help, backed up onto the protruding cockhead. She had been wet from stroking the cock, but it was still a challenge to push the hard member all the way in. Although she’d had a fairly regular diet of dildos and vibrators, it’d been 5 years since the divorce. She hadn’t actually had sexy with a real penis since then. For the first time in a long time, she felt her pussy stretching around a throbbing cock. It was so warm, pulsating, and sent waves of pleasure through her entire body. She knew she’d found her perfect cock. She bounced back on it harder and deeper with each thrust.

She knew she’d make each guy come in turn. It felt too good and she’d been without too long not to get a good hard fucking out of her system. Hell, she’d even do the nerd guy last. She figure he was the one on the end, too nervous to get it up. But for the first time in five years, she wanted to feel the big cock, the hard one, the one that stretched her and made her feel so damn good. Soon, he felt the hot semen erupt inside her.

She pulled off the cock, and gave it a good clea up with her toungue. Salty. It was saltier than she had remembered. She was a little weak in the knees, but she wobbled over to the next cock in line and pushed back on it. The first big deposit of cum sloshed inside her and was dribbling out, as the next cock slide easily inside. This cock was obviously used to regular fucking—maybe he had a girlfriend—because his endurance was great. She didn’t know if she could keep standing as her knees, unused to the position, began getting shakey. She turned around and took the cock hungerly into her mouth. Ohh, he liked that. The cock hardened, twitched, and shot a load over her lips and face, and chest.

She now had fresh cum in her cunt and her belly. She had one last cock, and she knew where she wanted it. She backed up to the final cock and positioned it at the wingled ring of her backdoor. She was soaking wet with cum and her own juices. Although tight, she loved using dildo’s in her butt to make her climaxes more powerful. Perhaps she was relaxed from the first two fucks. She pushed back and the cock popped in past her sphincter and slid into her anal canal. The third guy was not as hard, or as thick, but her filled her ass. She rode him as she rubbed herself in the front. When he shot his load up her bum, she felt her own orgasm beginning. It was long, slow and powerful. She practically fainted and collapsed on the carpet.

Alana told the men thank you and that they could dress and let themselves out. Nikki lay on the floor, totally spent, but totally blissful. She had cum on her face, in her hair, on her pink top, and leaking from her front and back. She had never felt so incredibly slutty. It was very empowering. She’d had her way with three strangers. Used them like tools for her own pleasure, in her own home, with the help of her best friends.

“So which one did you like best?” asked Alana after the front door shut. Nikki was still on the carpet, her black Capri stretch pants around her knees. She said she liked the first one the best, and guessed it was the big jock stud.

Maria shook her head. “Sorry to disappoint,” she said, “but when I was taking a picture of you when you started, I sort of could see a little bit. The stud guy was the last one.”

“Limp dick!” said Alana.

Maria nodded.

“That means it was the college dude or the nerd,” said Nikki.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure the nerd was the first one,” said Alana. “I sort of peeked on my side.”

“That’s not fair,” said Nikki. But she was too blessed out to care that the mystery was gone. She smiled, thinking she’d still had her fun, and the guys didn’t even know what hit them. She’d given the stud anal, and he probably didn’t even like anal. Those jock types are always so boob obsessed, and so straight vanilla. The college guy, he probably had a girlfriend. This was probably a fun, but unusual flash in his ongoing sex life. And the nerd, holy shit…this probably blew his mind. But as Nikki thought about it, she recalled his perfect cock. How it felt and tasted. What a waste of a good tool, she thought. Maybe I’ll have to go back to the store and try that one again.

HOW THE GLORY HOLE GOT ITS NAME

A Glory Hole, as you no doubt know, is a hole bored through a wall, about hip-high, and just large enough to accommodate a penis. An erect penis is simply inserted through the hole where the person on the other side of the wall performs fellatio or other sexual acts on it. The separating wall, of course, provides anonymity of either one or both parties.

But why do we call it a “glory hole.” The term, it seems, has been around a lot longer than most realize.

The origin of the term is unknown, but may have come from the mining industry, where the opening to a mineshaft containing the "mother lode" would be considered to be the "glory hole." (Hummm…hole with a big load….yeah, that makes sense.)

Or it could perhaps be in reference to the "glory hole" of a kiln used in glass blowing--an auxiliary furnace for reheating glass that has cooled during offhand blowing. (ummm…blowing….yeah, that origin also makes sense.)

In civil engineering, water from a reservoir can be quickly "sucked" through a glory hole and out of a dam. (um-hum, quickly sucked. Yeah, that makes sense, too.)

It could also have its roots in one of several meanings from seamen and shipbuilding. Sailors in the Royal Navy refer to a “Glory Hole” as any locker or enclosed space for loose gear, or any repository for general untidiness. A glory Hole can also be one or more rooms between decks aft used as sleeping quarters for stewards. (interesting…those Navy boys and their walls…)

The Army also uses the term Glory Hole for a “dug-out.” (I guess that’s the least convincing…but who knows, maybe those GIs invented the first Glory Hole.

Who knows, maybe Army and Navy guys, civil engineers, miners and glass blowers, have all used a glory hole in their own ways….

As for the actual wall with the cock-sized, hip-high hole, those began getting seen in men’s bathrooms sometime around the 1950s. Some say suburban heterosexual males would turn to glory holes to engage in homosexual contact without risk of being identified. Beyond the simple thrill provided by anonymity, keeping one’s identity undisclosed may have been also critical for gay men before the Gay Rights movement, when they were often at risk of severe discrimination and violence.

Once considered far to the fringe, Glory Holes have become much more mainstream. Glory Holes are commonly found in suburban adult video stores and there are many website posting amateur pictures of middle class couples engaging in the anonymous thrill the glory holes provide.

GOOD NEIGHBOR POLICY

In the the poem "The Mending Wall," Robert Frost writes about his annual task of rebuilding a stone wall along his property. His neighbor, a local farmer, repeats the saying, "Good fences make good neighbors." The poet, though, says "Something there that doesn't love a wall," referring to the winter heaves of ice, gravity, and the nature of entropy to pull down the small things man makes to separate himself. Truly, there must be some wisdom here.

Even though her husband spent several thousand in savings and worked a whole month to put up the fence so he and his wife could enjoy their backyard in privacy, something has lead the effort, ultimately, to fail. The neighbor-man, seeing the wife in the yard, called her over. Casual conversations led to exciting, but dangerous possibility. She started sunbathing, topless, then nude, when she thought she heard him over the fence. He worked from a home office. He'd often take his coffee outside. She began to know his patterns, and made her trips to the backyard match.

More and more they'd chat. The sexual tension simmered to a boil. She knew if she went over to his house, or if she invited him across the fence, there would be no turning back. There would be no barrier to stop her from doing everything. Everything would destroy her marriage. She didn't want that, just, a touch, maybe. A little kiss.

The fence offered her the security. Even, the anonymity. It was like a glory hole, but not sketchy, dark, and dangerous. She barely knew her neighbor, and didn't need to know. Only that he would be outside with his coffee about 10am. And she would, too. Yes, it wasn't right, but that's what she liked. The thrill, the risk. And still, the fence, the safe line.

Yeah, she thought. "Good fences make good neighbors."