Glorious Experimentation

My heart is pumping like a steam engine, I swear it'll burst right through my shirt any second now. I take another sip of beer from the bottle sitting in front of me. It's God-awful quite honestly, but I didn't come to this bar to drink beer, I just thought it would've been a bit weird to just sit there without having something. And the lightness of my wallet dictated that the something would be the absolute cheapest swill they happened to have on hand. I could've just gone to the toilet, that probably would've been the smartest option, but I just had to gather my courage for a while beforehand. This was the place my friend told me about, a seedy bar on the even seedier side of town, the array of patrons almost as colourful as their language. Sitting next to me on the bar was a scaled lad, like myself. This one was a monitor lizard though, a bit overweight, wearing a slightly stained wife-beater and some track pants. He was busy watching a football match on the TV, occasionally gulping down some beer from his glass and flicking his tongue. I was a bit more lithe compared to him, and a bit shorter. Though having a couple of spines on my head, courtesy of being an iguana, made me seem a bit more in line with his height. As I'm looking him up and down, he glances in my direction. I quickly avert my eyes, fixating squarely onto the small TV showing the match, trying my best to look interested. I can only hope he bought the act, as he turns back to his drink. Though maybe this was the guy? I really can't tell. Not to fellate my own horn or anything, but I'd say I'm about as knowledgeable about women as the average man is. But with men, I'm really quite lost. My experiences with them are limited to me, my computer, and the ol' reliable lefty. But today would change that, at least hopefully. This is the place, and in that slightly dilapidated bathroom are the mythical stalls, and in those stalls is the ever-wondrous glory-hole. This place is frequented not only by whoever wants to get drunk as cheaply as possible, but also by hordes of truck drivers, frustrated husbands, horny teens, and everyone else who just wants a hole to blow their load in, but aren't too picky with regards to who that hole is. This is the perfect opportunity for me, a quick and anonymous way to fool around with a guy or two, without any need for awkward conversation or courting. I empty the last couple of drops of the awful beer into my throat, take a deep breath or two, then start making my way to the bathrooms. 

The door to the bathroom squeaks open as I step inside. The smell of chemical-y cleaner, cheap deodorant, and stale piss hits my nose almost immediately. The bathroom is pretty typical, white tiling on the walls, and peach tiling on the floor. At least it looks peach, it might've very well been white a long time ago, based on the condition of the place. There's no windows, the only sources of light in the room are a couple of florescent lamp tubes running across the ceiling. Half of those are broken or burned out as well. To anyone else this might've been a truly grim sight, a place you'd never want to even glance at, but to me this was basically heaven. Many, many cases of morning wood or bedtime hard-ons were cured by videos, pictures, or stories of casual and raunchy acts of buggery, most of them happening in places exactly like this. I practically skip into the open stall, heart beating even faster than before. I latch the door shut behind me, taking a look at the inside of it. There's graffiti and drawings here and there, a couple of pieces of trash littering the ground, some stains inside the toilet (a couple on the outside as well), and of course the most important feature: the glory-hole itself. It's a roughly cut hole on the wall separating the two stalls, the sides of it taped over, probably to not cause any sessions to end very quickly on account of a splinter. I take a peek through the hole, the other stall seemingly in a very similar condition to mine. My jeans are starting to tent slightly, the sight of a glory-hole alone causing a ping of adrenaline across my body. Now, I just wait, I guess? Should I have given someone at the bar some fuck-me eyes, or some sort of a secret hand-signal? Or maybe I need to drape a tie above the stall room, to show that there's someone here looking to fuck? My knowledge of guys was bare enough, glory-hole etiquette was completely foreign to me. 

Just as I start thinking about Googling for glory-hole tips (n. 9 will surprise you!!!), I hear the bathroom door squeak open once more. I freeze, not sure how I should act. If I look like I'm waiting for another fruit to play with, and this man isn't here for that, he might not be all too happy with me. But if I look like I'm just taking care of my bathroom business, and he actually is here for debauchery, maybe he'll think I'm uninterested? Why don't these holes just have a curtain or something? As I'm thinking of my first impressions, I hear heavy footsteps nearing the other stall, before the door to it opens. I try to kind of look inconspicuous, and not stare at the hole in the wall, just standing and facing the toilet. I hear some shuffling, pants being unzipped. I can see brown fur of some sort out of the corner of my eye. For what feels like hours, but is probably closer to about five seconds, I'm just frozen in place, not daring to try anything. Eventually I hear some tapping on the wall. I look to my right, and see a finger beaconing me to the hole. A deep, gruff voice comes from the other side, "You wanna fuck, boy?" Before I could answer back, his cock pokes through the hole, a drip of precum gleaming on the tip. Based on the look of his cock, he seems to be a bear of some sort. I grab his dick, giving it a gentle stroke, the scales on the insides of my hands much softer than scales on the rest of my body. He gives a small moan, few more drops of precum staining the bathroom floor. My dick is fully erect as well, the jeans almost bursting with the conical member fully out of my sheath. I get down on my knees, opening my fly and taking my cock in my hand, stroking it in rhythm with my other hand. The bear's meat is right in front of my muzzle, the musky smell making me twitch and drip. I let my tongue wrap around the tip for a moment, before taking it into my mouth, letting one hand still massage his base. The salty taste of his precum quickly coats my mouth as I try my best to please him, not knowing if my lack of blowjob skills was obvious to him. I get about 3/4 of his cock into my mouth without having too many issues, focusing almost all effort on not screwing this up. What little focus I had that didn't go to the blowjob was spent on beating my meat.

Just as I was getting the hang of using my tongue, the bear slipped his cock out of the glory-hole, leaving a trail of saliva on the floor and down the wall. I was sure I had screwed something up, and that I'd have to settle for my hand to get me off. If I saw myself in the mirror in that moment, I probably would've looked like a toddler who just had his candy taken from him. But before I could properly process what happened, I hear a thud from the wall, both of the stalls shaking from the impact for a second. The bear spoke once more, "How about you try your muzzle on this?" I looked at the glory-hole, and saw a bunch of fluffy brown fur, in the middle a pink bud, the bear's asshole. Along with the new sights came a new wave of musk, even stronger than before. Judging by the strength of the smell, he must've been working out, or doing some sort of construction the whole day long, not bothering with a shower before coming here for some fun. Intoxicated by his ass, I shove my muzzle right in, poking my tongue at his hole. I give his tailhole a couple of long, wet licks, before shoving my tongue in. The grunts and the wet slapping sounds coming from the other stall seemed to indicate that I had the gist of things, continuing my newfound dream job of eating ass like a glutton. My drips of precum had turned into a steady stream, my hand completely stained as I stroked like a madman. "Gaah, fuck...", I heard from the bear as I moaned into his ass, the fur tickling my nostrils. "Fuck me, cum in me!", he ordered, and I was more than happy to oblige. I stood up, quickly lining my cock with the hole, and pushing in a fervour. The copious amounts of saliva on his asshole and the slick coating of precum on my dick made me slide in with ease, the bear clenching as I bottomed out in him. His ass was milking me with expertise, the hot walls massaging my cock. I grabbed the upper edge of the wall to steady myself, and slowly started pulling back until only my very tip was still in him. I slammed it back in, drawing another lustful moan from the bear and a grunt from my own mouth. I knew I wouldn't last much longer, as I started thrusting in and out of the bear, quickening my pace with every second, staining the fur around his ass with precum. The whole stall structure was rocking as I fucked him, both of us way too preoccupied with caring if someone noticed what was going on. I thrust in as far as I physically could, groaning and grunting as I felt my seed rushing into his asshole. The first wave of hot, sticky cum flooded in the bear as I suddenly felt his ass clenching and contracting again. He had evidently reached his goal as well, hearing ropes of cum spatter against the wall and floor on his side of the stalls. Load after load, his ass was getting stuffed with my seed, drops leaking out and sliding down the wall.

After a full minute of both of us moaning, I felt my orgasm finally coming to an end, my dick sliding out of him. A wave of cum followed suit, splattering against the floor. His hole is gaping slightly, a steady trickle still flowing from both ends of him. I close the toilet lid and sit down, needing a moment to catch my breath, admiring the mess I had left behind all over the floor and wall. I hear the bear ripping some paper from the toilet paper roll, suppose he didn't want to mess his clothes too badly. Content with just basking in the afterglow, I lay my head back and relax, letting my cock slowly disappear back into its sheath. A few minutes go by as the bear cleans himself and zips back up. He opens the door, but before stepping out he reaches a hand back through the hole. I see a piece of paper drop onto the floor, before his heavy footsteps retreat, and I hear the familiar sounds of the bathroom door squeaking open. I scoop up the paper, seeing a name and a number on it. Well, whoever this Dale is, he'll definitely be getting a call from me sometime soon. I stuff the paper safely into my pocket, give a satisfied sigh, and fix my clothes up as best I can, hopefully not looking like a man had just milked me dry. I walk out of the stall, carefully stepping over the puddle of cum left on the floor. Out of curiosity, I peek into the other stall, seeing large streaks of cum all over the wall. I saunter out of the bathroom, quickly scanning the bar as I leave. No one pays me much attention, and the mystery bear seems to not be in attendance. I dig out the paper, saving the number onto my phone as I go outside. An evening of experimentation well spent, I'd say!