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The Hole

By: dark whisper



Knees aching as the bare floor presses deeper. Wrists held tight by a leather caress as fingers curl against the upper curve of a bare ass. Naked... heated inside with the knowledge of who I am, and why I am here. 

You stand above me. So tall and solid. Shadows dance over my features as adoring eyes look upward, and Your cock hangs heavily from an open zipper. My gaze drawn to the thick veins and swollen head. I watch, fascinated, as the shaft twitches and grows. 

Aware on some primal level of the disparity between us. Your clothes fit well – expensive slacks and tailored shirt decorated with a silk tie and gold tie-tack. Only the cock now jutting from Your pants to belie the image of a businessman's repose. And I... naked and bound as I kneel with thighs spread impossibly wide. The light shimmers over the smooth lips of an already wet and throbbing cunt. 

I know what is desired. There are no words, simply a soft sigh of understanding and pleasure as I look into Master's eyes and see what He needs – what He demands. Lips, full and glistening, open like a baby bird to its mother as You press the hot knob against the flat of my tongue. 

Closing around You, instinctual, sucking. 

Gasping as the cock is removed, yet no words crease the silence. Heavy eyes blink in confusion as You press forward once more and the silky shaft slides over my tongue. 

Lips circling You... tongue dancing over the thick veins along the underside. Withdrawal once more. A low whimper of frustration as my eyes lock to Your face. Seeing the almost bored look cross Your features as You reach down and grasp the cock at the base. A sudden SNAP of the wet flesh against my lips. Stinging pressure building as the snap comes twice, and then the slow insertion once more. 

Not daring to suckle now. Confusion remains, but something tickles at my mind as my own need rises to show Master how much I wish to pleasure Him. Hips circling slowly as You begin to rock – Your cock sliding into my mouth and probing the slightly rough flesh of palate, the heat of tongue. 

Feeling the moisture gather at the corners of my lips. Unable to suck it away. A swallow once more sending the tongue against the solid shaft. Panting as You pull away. Tongue peeking from between my lips to gather the moisture and stopping half way as Your hand cracks against my cheek. Stunned... blinking back the tears as Your hands settle into the thickness of wild hair and seizes my head. Immobile under Your grasp until a sharp, driving plunge into my mouth. 

Shuddering... sudden understanding as You use the mouth opened so lewdly before You. Iron hard cock forcing deeper as Your hands hold me still. Driving cock, silent thrusts filling the cavity of a mouth achingly open and warm – battering at the tight ring of muscle at the entrance to my throat. Aware now of what You need, of Your pleasures taking precedence over mine. 

Concentrating now – quivering as You use the hole left open for You... for Master.

Solid slaps to red cheeks. Each strike of Your hand building the fire in my face and the drool gathering around the plunging column of Your shaft. Unable to lick it away – unable to do anything but remain on my knees and prolong the screaming need rushing through my veins. Cock piercing the tight throat, choking, trying to breathe as I struggle to open more fully for Your use and pleasure. 

Tears sparkling in my eyes even as the cunt quivers and clenches. So excited, so aware of Your power and control. 

Used fully as the piece of slutmeat You require. The rush of Your orgasm filling my mouth and painting my tongue... unable to even swallow the precious gift spilling over my tongue and dripping from the point of chin to fall in hot splashes over straining nipples. Moaning low in my throat... yet obeying as You empty into the aching mouth. 

Yours. Your warm slut to use and take as You desire and need. And finding joy in my service for You.

The Hole



It was a strange group of people to be gathered around a queen-sized four-poster bed at 3 am. Julia, the roommate; short, petite, vibrant. Jeff, boy friend; very tall, very built, very shy. Kay, the lover; round, dark, mysterious. Me, Josh, the ex; Average, average, average, with my girlfriend, Ann, soft-spoken, warm, full of life and love.

We all stared at the form of the person who tied all of us together. Val. Tall, above-average looks, with a manner that seemed to attract anything that took breath. She had a walk, she had the outfit, she had the air. She also had a perfume that reeked. She seemed to be a paradox, so willing to accept men into her bed, but totally incapable of making any permanent relationships with people. She was a person dangerous to know.

The last straw that sealed our bond was the evening previous, when Julia awoke in the middle of the night to fervent screaming in the room next to hers. It wasn't uncommon. Val had a rotating door of men, and every week there were new grunts to be heard, along with Val's high pitched begging-for-more. 

After turning over and ready to go back to sleep, she noticed her boyfriend, Pete, was not next to her. She ran next door, thinking the worst, and found it. Pete was standing next to the bed, and leaning over Valerie, her legs spread, eagerly letting him fuck her. They were both totally oblivious to Julia, until she screamed, ran to Pete and punched him in the face. After he had fallen over, shocked and dazed on the floor, she kicked him in the balls, twice. Val leapt up to his defense, but Julia, even giving Val ten inches in height, did not back down. She instead, threatened Val with a fist, and when Val went to Pete to help him, Julia stormed out of the room. 

She went to her room, locked the door, sat down on her bed, and trying to calm herself. For a few minutes there wasn't a sound in the apartment, except for the noises from the street. Julia quickly put most of her clothes and precious items in her suitcase. Several times there was banging on her door, with muffled voices on the other side begging for the ability to explain. She put on some clothes, gathered her bags, opened the bedroom door, and left without a word. 

Fifteen minutes later, she was at our door, cold, wet, and crying. It was a complete surprise, because Julia and Ann were only coworkers and knew each other very little. It seemed she did not have other friends who lived close by, and remembered our address from some office paperwork. Over the next few hours, we learned all about her, including what had just transpired. Julia hadn't known that I had dated Val years before, and instantly we knew there was a bond between us, having both been grievously hurt by Val. Ann, always thoughtful and helpful, pulled out the sofa bed for Julia, put on fresh sheets, and pulled out some pajamas from Julia's bag. It wasn't a moment after Julia snuggled under the covers that she was asleep.

I hadn't told her the whole story of what happened between Val and I. That would come in the morning. Ann and I talked in our bedroom after Julia fell asleep, and we agreed to let Julia stay as long as she needed. Ann knew all about my past with Val, had helped me deal with it.

It wasn't simply that Val had cheated on me. If it were only that, it wouldn't have scarred me so much. She moved in with me after we had dated for several months, and I thought that there was a future for us. I even thought I was in love. One evening I came home after a very long day, and found Val's clothes strewn about in the living room. I smiled to myself, because several times I had come home, seeing the same thing, and Val had been lying in our bed, ready to show me something new. This time was no exception, except that what she had to show me was a large man I didn't know, with a very large cock, tied to the bed, our bed, with Val straddling him, fucking him like a demon. 

When I made my presence and my anger known. The man made no reaction. He couldn't; he was bound and gagged. Val turned to me, and with making no attempt to dismount, said,

" Sorry, Josh, but you aren't enough for me. You just aren't exciting enough. I need someone big, someone crazy, someone really ready to be so much more of a lover than you can be." She shrugged than resumed fucked the guy.

The next day while Val was at work, I packed up all my things, which took up most of what was in the apartment, and left. I found a new place two days later, and hadn't seen Val since. She didn't raise any objections, which angered me even more.

It months before I built up the courage to try and date again. The first time I found myself with a woman in my bed, I couldn't perform. For hours she tried everything to try and get me up, but she couldn't, and there wasn't another date after that, with that woman or anyone else. Ann was a friend of a friend and when we met at a party, we talked for hours. We met for coffee, for drinks, with friends and without. 

After several months, Ann asked me why I hadn't asked her out. There was enough comfort for me to break down and tell her the whole story. For hours I vented and cried, finally letting go all of the pent up anger and frustration I had inside. There were several more nights like that, with Ann patiently listening, encouraging softly, and holding me.

One of those nights ended in a kiss. Over time the kisses became passionate. Slowly, moment by moment, night by night, week by week, Ann built my sexual confidence from nothing. The first night I finally had an erection, we didn't even continue. I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the relief and we held each other the rest of the night. Ann turned out to be the nest lover I could ever have, not just because of technique or communication, but simply because we cared deeply for each other, and she helped me at a time, with something that no other person would or could help me with.

That was what we told Julia when she awoke the next morning. After I finished the story, she hugged me, then Ann, then broke down and cried again. Ann made her coffee, and told me to go out and find a moving van, so we could go back and get the rest of Julia's things. While I was gone, Ann and Julia spoke at length, and when I returned with the van, they were both on the phone.

Two hours later, Kay and Jeff were sitting at our table, listening to Julia's story first, than mine. Jeff sat there dumbfounded, his eyes watery. Kay's dark surface held an even darker look, and her fists were clenched on top of the table. Once I was finished, Kay told her story. She kept it very short; she seemed to be of few words. Val had put in a personals ad, looking for a female lover to explore with. Kay and Val soon embarked on a very wild ride into some very taboo things, which left Kay both emotionally and physically scarred. She didn't go into detail, but simply showed her neck and writs, both scarred.

When we returned to Julia's apartment later that evening, we found no evidence of Val. Silently we removed all of Julia's furniture and appliances, clothes and personal things, which left the apartment almost completely bare, except for what was in Val's room. When we were finished, we talked quietly outside the apartment. Julia didn't want to ever see that apartment or Val ever again, and wanted to leave right away. Jeff acknowledged that he'd have to see Val again, since Val was ignorant to Jeff's knowledge of the situation. Ann knew that I had harbored a desire to tell Val off, even after all those years, so she suggested that I stay and do just that. Kay mumbled that she wanted to do more than just yell at Val, but said nothing more. It was finally decided that we would all stay, to be supportive of each other, and try to purge Val completely.

We returned to the apartment and waited. None of us spoke, through the hours that passed. Kay walked impatiently back and forth, becoming increasingly agitated. At one point, she stopped and was staring out the window onto the street below. She then turned to us, and offered a suggestion. 

As she described her thoughts, I was first disgusted, then fearful, then agreeable. The others went through similar thoughts, and spoke to those ends to Kay. Ann stayed quite through out the conversation, and when it seemed to become a stalemate, she spoke up. I was amazed that she agreed with Kay, and want to go through with what Kay planned. 

It was Kay's plan that led us to be sitting around Val's bed, watching her try to free herself from the bonds that Kay had made. Kay seemed to be an expert, and within minutes of Jeff laying Val down in her bed, Val was completely restrained. Kay seemed to take a satisfaction in seeing Val that way. It seemed to me that this was a role reversal from a previous experience, but I never found out for sure. 

Val was gagged so she couldn't speak. We didn't need her to respond, only to listen. As she struggled her skirt rode up. The lack of underwear and sight of the out-of-control bush didn't surprise any of us. Her leather boots glistened in the half-light from the street. Her chest was heaving, no doubt in fear of the situation. 

All of us sat watching for several minutes, each taking a small bit of satisfaction seeing Val so vulnerable, something she professed never to be. Julia rose first, walking up to Val's side, and smacking her fiercely across the face, twice. She seemed to want to do more, but held herself back. She opened her mouth to speak, but didn't not say anything. She sat back down next to Jeff, sobbing. Jeff put his arm around Julia for a moment, before rising himself.

While an imposing looking man, he seemed small when walking towards the side of the bed. He body had a defeated look, with slumped shoulders, something I remembered feeling years before. He sat quietly next to the bed, saying nothing for several moments while he looked at Val. She didn't look at him, or any of us, opting to kept her eyes closed. Jeff said a few words quietly in her ear, inaudible to us, to which she opened her eyes and looked at him in a pleading way, shaking her head. He merely shook his head, and came back to our side of the room.

Kay looked at me and nodded. I stood, shaking, nervous, angry. I felt like I was going to be sick. As I got closer, the smell of Val's horrible perfume only made the nausea worse. She looked at me, her eyes wide, not pleading, but knowing. I got the sense that she thought she had power over me. That look made me hesitate. Ann must have sensed it, because she said," It's ok, Josh." Val didn't look over at Ann, but instead focused her eyes on me. The words that had left me when I moved to her side came flooding back to my mind.

"You stupid, filthy WHORE!," I screamed. The look in Val's eyes was pure shock. The were several gasps from behind, but I ignored them. "You think you have control over us, but you don't. You think you are some perfect sexual goddess, but you're nothing, but a hole, a receptacle for cum, and whatever else you might think of taking inside you." As I yelled I felt myself getting closer and closer to Val, close enough that the spit that was flying out of my mouth hit her face. I took a little satisfaction in that. "You take something from every person you let touch that slut body of yours. You stink of perfume, of cum, of alcohol. You think that thick, overgrown bush of yours protects that pussy of yours, but it only serves to show that you just an animal, without feeling, with out conscious. You're a waste of human life." After I finished, I felt the energy leave my body, and I impulsively knelt to the floor. Both Ann and Jeff rushed to my side, and carried me back to my chair, where I struggled to catch my breath. When I looked back to Val, she seemed to be crying, and I felt a small amount of pity creep into my thoughts. She was a waste of life, and was to be pitied. She was also the devil incarnate, and should be left to share her life with others, just as horrible.

Ann stood next, something I didn't expect. She walked over to Val and stood over her. Val looked at her blinking, a confused look on her face. She didn't know Ann at all. Ann spoke slowly and deliberately, in the voice I was used to hearing when she was dealing with telemarketers.

"Val, you have taken something from everyone here. I won't speak exactly to how Jeff, Julia, and Kay feel," she nodded to each one of them," but I know how you left Josh after you cheated on and humiliated him." She paused, as if contemplating something, then she turned to Kay and nodded, who returned the gesture. Ann continued," When I met Josh, he had no confidence in his own sexuality, he couldn't..." she did say the words I knew were next, and I thanked her for it. "It took a long time before he opened up to me, and even longer before he was ready to feel a woman's touch again. You took that from him, you horrible bitch," she growled the last sentence, startling everyone. 

Kay came over to my and took my hand. When I looked up to her questioningly, it was the first time all day I had seen a lock on her face that resembled kindness. I took her hand and she led me to Ann, who took my hand from her, and thanked her. Ann held my hands and kissed me on the cheek. I heard Kay whispering to Jeff and Julia behind me. "Josh," Ann said quietly," I want to give you something, small as it may be. I know that you'll never completely let go of the hurt and anger from Val, but I think I can take most of it away for you." She paused, then kissed my on the lips. "I want you to make love to me here, in front of Val, to show her what you have, to show her what she hasn't, and to prove to her, and to you, that you're the most wonderful lover anyone could have."

The look of shock on my face, mimicked the sounds I heard from behind me. I heard the door open, and I looked, to see Kay trying to hold Jeff in the room. Julia was sitting steadfast, her face blank. When Ann caught her stare, Julia nodded. 

"Jeff," Ann called to him," please, wait." Jeff stopped and turned, disgusted. He waited impatiently. "I know this may not make sense to you now, but I know I have to do this for Josh," she squeezed my shoulder. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. But I know that a part of you wants to see her humiliated, a part of you wants to show her that she isn't worth the time and effort that you've taken with her." Jeff hesitated, thought for a moment, and his expression changed, from disgust, to acceptance. He returned to his spot across the room, as did Kay. Ann turned to me.

"I know this is strange, even embarrassing, but I think it's best for you. Remember, I'm here with you and for you. You don't have to touch Val, in fact I know you don't want to and neither do I. Look at her," she directed, and I looked deep into Val's eyes. She was staring back at me, her eyes challenging. While I stared at her, I felt Ann's hand move over my chest, and down to my crotch. When I didn't feel anything happening right away, I started to panic. The despair of impotence was flooding back to me, and I hated it. I tried so hard to flush it from my thoughts, but I couldn't, not with the source of it right in front of me.

"Kay," I heard Ann say from my side. Ann walked to the other side of the bed, holding a pair of shears. Val switched her glance from me to Kay, and I saw her shiver. Kay, slowly and deliberately, cut through Val's skirt, then her shirt and bra, pushing the sides away, exposing her entire body. I felt a pang of satisfaction knowing that Val was being exposed against her will. She hated losing control. That I knew. The confident look in her eyes was fading.

Ann never stopped massaging me through my jeans, and as I gazed at Val's vulnerable, nude body, I felt something. Something that I never thought would happen in Val's presence. My cock started to harden. I felt a warm sense of relief wash over me, and I sighed audibly. Ann kissed me softly. She pulled her hand away, to my disappointment. She surprised me even more by pulling her shirt over her head, and quickly removing her bra.

"It isn't enough that you can get hard with Val in the room, Josh," she explained. " I want you to show her how good of a lover you are. I want you to show her that you know exactly how to please a woman. I want you to show her that it isn't enough to just want to fuck someone, you have to want to please their mind as well."

My mind was reeling, trying to understand everything, anything. While I couldn't exactly think logically about the situation, something stuck in my head.

"Val can easily close her eyes, and not look at us," I said, looking at Val, then Ann. She seemed to agree at what I said and looked towards Kay. She nodded, as she had done most of the day. She pulled what looked like a chain out of her bag, and came to the bed. Ann dropped her skirt, and sat on the bed, completely naked. She laid down and spread her legs. Kay, in the mean time what putting clamps on Val's nipples. She was definitely taking satisfaction with her work, judging from the look on her face. When she was done, Val gave a pained muffle. Kay then turned Val's head towards us, and moved her fingers close to Val's eyes, to keep them open if necessary I thought. Ann brought my attention back to her.

"I know this may be a little overwhelming for you, Josh. It's a little strange too. But I know what kind of man, and what kind of lover you are. Just focus your complete attention on me, like you always do. Val will see what things should be like." She pulled me closer by my belt. She took my hand and pressed it to her breast. Her free hand deftly unbuckled my belt and unsnapped my jeans.

Soon I was on my knees, pointing my cock at Ann's pussy, glistening, ready. Something stopped me from entering her at that moment. It was knowing Val was being forced to watch. Kay was intermittently pulling at Val's nipples by the clamps, keeping her eyes open and focused on us. 

I move my hips forward and without looking my cock found Ann's pussy, penetrating slowly. The perfect, wet warmth pushed a new confidence into my very being and as I slowly began to move my hips, words came to me that I had never been able to form before. The latent anger came back full force and soon I was yelling again, almost into to my thrusting. My eyes moved to Val, fixating on her contorted face. 

"You stupid, unfeeling WHORE," I screamed, repeating that word from earlier. I felt Ann tighten underneath me but I kept on thrusting almost unaware of the sensation of sex. "You never had regard for anyone, least of all me. You're just a HOLE." That word felt especially good coming off my lips. I was repeating almost everything I had already said, but I needed to continue, the motions of my body were driving me to yell. "You think you can use men, throw them away once your finished, but it's you who are being used. You aren't anything more than a shell, a vessel for all the cum loaded into that ugly pussy of yours." There were more vulgar and angry things pouring out of my mouth but after a few moment, I cease to be aware of them. I was lost in a strange place where I didn't seem to feel anything at all. The pressure of Ann's pussy, or her hand gripping my sides; the grating of my angry voice against the walls and the bed; the muffled grunting of Val as she tried to escape. I looked over to Kay for a moment and for the first time she had a look of surprise on her face. I couldn't see the other from my position, but in that in-between world I thought to myself that they would be horrified too.

A strange thing brought me back suddenly into my body. I heard my name. It was quiet so I almost missed it. But it came back again. Ann was calling me. I looked toward her and the quiet, calm look in her eye made the word stop in my throat. The blood rushed to my legs, hips and cock and suddenly I didn't have any control. My thrust became erratic and before I knew it I was erupting into Ann. She wasn't moaning, or making any sounds what so ever. I finished quickly, suddenly aware that I had just had sex in front of several people, who probably didn't want to see it. There was a flood of shame in me, enough that I climbed down from the bed and sat on an empty chair in the corner, trying to covered myself up.




The Hole



When I went to college in the 1970s I was incredibly naïve about the world of homosexuality. It helps to remember that in the United States in those days being gay was still something to keep secret. I knew a couple of guys in high school who I was pretty sure were gay, but it just wasn't something we talked about much. 

I was anything but naïve about sex, though, having had a long-term girlfriend who liked to fuck almost as much as I did. Both of her parents worked late and so we'd been screwing each other's brains out after school in her family's apartment once or twice a week for almost two years. I left for college planning to be just as sexually active as I had been in high school, only to find out that all the cute girls seemed to want to go out with juniors and seniors, not freshmen like me. If it hadn't been for my right hand, I wouldn't have had any sex at all that first semester. 

When I came back to campus in January, one of my classes was in the old music building, a throwback to the old days at my university when departments were considered almost homes to their students. In addition to classrooms, recital rooms and a small concert hall, it had its own grill with a cook who made a pretty mean cheeseburger. Because my class there ended at 11:50, I got hooked on those cheeseburgers pretty fast. 

One afternoon in early February I'd just finished my lunch when I realized that I needed to go spend some quality time in the men's room. So, grabbing a newspaper, I headed up the winding metal stairs that led from the dining area to the upper hallway of the building and to a bathroom that was tucked away in a corner of the building. It was small and kind of dim, having only one window high up on the wall. The fixtures looked like they'd been installed in the 1930s. Two stalls were in the corner and a couple of urinals and one sink were on the opposite wall. I'd found out about it only by asking the cashier in the grill where the nearest men's room was. Otherwise I wouldn't have known it was there.

When I got into the stall and sat down on the john I was transfixed by the artwork on the walls of my stall. Sure, I'd seen some pretty good graffiti in bathrooms around campus, but nothing like this! 

In addition to dozens of poems, rants and other graffiti, some art student (at least I assumed he was an art student by the quality of his work) had drawn an elaborate work showing a man, bent forward, his ass toward the audience and his face buried in the crotch of another man, half a hard cock protruding from his mouth. One of his hands was on the floor, the other was between his partner's legs fondling the balls that hung below that cock. The drawing was incredibly lifelike, right down to the veins bulging from the hardon that hung down between the man's legs as he sucked on his lover's cock. But what really transfixed me was that where the man's asshole would have been, a real hole had been gouged out of the wall of the stall, giving a clear view into the neighboring stall.

Of course, the first thing I did was peek through the hole to see if anyone was there. Thank goodness I was alone! I didn't want anyone staring at me in the middle of my daily constitutional. That and I didn't want anyone to see that I was very excited by what I was looking at on the walls of my stall.

Wrapping up what I'd come there to do as quickly as possible, I stared at the artwork for a couple of minutes, feeling my cock growing until it rivaled those that floated before my gaze. Then I began to take more careful notice of the graffiti. Although there were the usual limericks and a few rants against "fags" and "queers", mostly the walls of the stall were covered in cryptic communications that went something like this:

Men's room, 7th floor main library, 2-10-77, 9:00 pm

After I'd read several of these, I realized what they meant. I was looking at a system for arranging sexual encounters. It had never occurred to me that this was how gay men might meet one another. Something about reading these public solicitations, especially the ones that said things like 8", cut or very hard for you made me even more aware of how hard my cock own was. Without much conscious thought, I spit on my hand and rapidly stroked myself to orgasm, spewing my load into the john. 

Trying to wipe myself clean of the remnants of my orgasm, I realized my hands were shaking I was so excited—and so scared. I'd just masturbated in a public place for the first time, but more significantly, I'd cum because I'd been turned on by the idea of gay sex. Was I gay? What did this mean? 

Suddenly I was overcome by a need to get as far away from that bathroom stall as possible. Yanking up my pants, I bolted out the door and back down the stairs to my books, trying not to run as I left the grill and headed back to my dorm. As soon as I got home, I stripped off my clothes, wrapped a towel around myself and took a very long shower. Standing there with the steaming water pouring down over my face, I was very glad that none of my dorm mates came in to join me. The last thing I wanted to see at that moment was a naked male body.

That night I got roaring drunk with a couple of my friends and managed to forget all about what had happened back in the music building. Then there was a basketball game to go to on Saturday, which required some heavy partying before and afterward. But on Sunday, when I sat in the main library trying to study for a chemistry test, I couldn't help but think about the many messages I'd seen in the stall trying to arrange a meeting in one of the bathrooms on the floors above me. My cock twitched in my pants a couple of times as I thought about what might have happened up there over the weekend, but soon my fear of the chemistry test pushed my interest in gay sex out of my head.

Monday morning, it all came rushing back. As I walked to my class in the music building, I found myself obsessing about the pictures and the notes I'd seen on that bathroom stall. I kept telling myself over and over that I was not going to go up there again, so it didn't matter. I wasn't gay. I wasn't interested in that sort of thing. Not really. Not me. 

But when my class let out, what did I do? I went to the grill, ate lunch and then, grabbing a newspaper again, I headed up to the men's room. I just had to go.

This time I wasn't there for any reason other than to see what was in the stall on the other side of the hole. At least that's what I told myself.

But as I walked up the iron stairs, every nerve in my body was jangling. My cock was so hard that I thought it would burst through my pants if I wasn't careful, but what had me at such a fever pitch was a combination of arousal mixed with the fear of what might happen once I got there. The fear was stoking the arousal in ways I'd never experienced.

When I slipped into the bathroom, I quickly peeked under the stall doors, ready to run at a moment's notice. No one there. I let out the breath I'd been holding, then pushed open the door of the other stall, unbuckled and dropped my pants, and took my now aching cock into my hand. I was tempted to just cum immediately and get the hell out of there, but some voice in my head said "wait." So I did.

Sitting down, cock still firmly in hand, I checked out the artwork on this side of things. Instead of an asshole ready to be filled, the same unknown artist had drawn a man sitting on the floor, his legs spread wide, with balls hanging down just below the hole. Clearly the drawing was meant to be finished by someone in the other stall shoving his cock through the hole.

The man had his head turned to one side and was licking the underside of a cock so large I hoped it was meant to be an abstraction, but on his other side, he was stroking the cock of another man, this one more the size of mine. I stared at his tongue as it licked that spot where the head and the shaft of that monstrous cock come together. I felt my orgasm building and so I closed my eyes and imagined that it was my cock he was licking. When I came, it was all I could do to keep silent.

Unlike the week before, I didn't bolt from the room in shame and fear. Instead, I sat and read through the "meet me" messages. Then I pulled out my own pencil and wrote one of my own. Monday, 2-21, main library, 6th floor men's room, 10:00 pm. 7".. I had absolutely no intention of meeting someone there. I just wanted to see if anyone would actually show.

That night I found myself a table on the 6th floor that would give me a good view of everyone coming and going from the men's room. Sure enough, at 9:25 a guy walked into the men's room, stayed in there for no more than a minute and left. Was he looking for me? No one could have peed that fast. Five minutes later I was sure he was there to meet me, because he came back, this time staying a bit longer. And again, 10 minutes later he went in one last time before leaving and not coming back. The realization that I could be having gay sex at that moment put me back in the same state of jangling nerves that I'd been in just after lunch.

In my heart of hearts I knew I wasn't gay. I liked fucking women too much for that and had never found a guy remotely attractive. But I also knew that I wanted to experience gay sex. 

That night I couldn't sleep as I rolled over in my mind the quandary I was in. If I wasn't gay, how could I want a cock so badly? What did it mean? Maybe I really was gay and was just denying my true nature? The more I thought about it, the more distressed, and excited, I became. 

Needing relief, if only from the excitement part, I listened to my roommate's breathing. Because he was clearly out like a light, I slowly stroked myself to orgasm. I tried calling up images of my old girlfriend's tits, her pussy as my cock slid in and out of it, but those happy thoughts kept getting crowded out by cocks large and small that I wanted to stroke the way I was stroking myself. When I came at last, I fell into an exhausted sleep—more because I was emotionally wrung out than because I was sexually satisfied.

On Wednesday that same week, I returned to my men's room to see what had been written under my secret message. I was just about to push on the door to the stall where I'd written the note when I saw a pair of tennis shoes there, pointing towards me. Someone was sitting on the john. Part of me tried to turn and bolt, but the desire to see what would happen next won out and I stepped into the adjacent stall. 

Trying not to shake too hard, I latched the door, pulled down my pants and sat. Out of the corner of my eye I could see motion through the hole in the stall, so I turned to get a better view and damned if the guy next to me wasn't beating his cock just as I had done two days earlier. Because my own cock was almost as hard as his appeared to be, I joined in the fun, a whispered sigh escaping me as I took my cock in my hand. 

"Yeah, that's it," came a whisper from next to me. "That's it."

I stroked faster, needing desperately to cum, to spurt all over the walls and floor of that stall, to mark it with my desire. And as I stroked, I stared at the anonymous cock that was no more than three feet from me, watching the hand of the man I couldn't see pistoning up and down on it just as mine was.

But before I could cum, his cock disappeared from my view. All I could see was his thigh. He was standing. And then, there it was, sliding through the hole in the stall, the skin on the shaft stretching tight as he pushed himself as far through as he could go.

I'd never seen another man's cock hard before, except in a porn movie, and for a moment I was too fascinated by it to move. His cock was larger than mine, but not by much, but what struck me was how purple the head was. I looked down at my own and saw that it was a deep red in comparison to his. A drop of precum was glistening at the opening of his cock and he began to hump the hole ever so slightly, making the head flare, then retract a bit, then flare again as he stretched himself against the wall.

The idea that I might put it in my mouth repulsed me for some reason that I couldn't explain, but I knew I had to touch it, to feel it's hardness, to make it shoot. So I spit on my right hand, shifting my own cock into my left, and tentatively touched it.


Why I was so surprised at the softness of his cock I'm not sure. After all, I knew my own penis very, very well and it was no different. But something about the way he felt—the combination of hard and soft—was too wonderful to put into words. I stared, fascinated, as my hand spread my spit up and down the shaft, then came to rest on the head of this cock that was stuck so straight out though the wall. That it seemed to be emerging from the asshole of the drawing almost made me laugh.

Instead, though, I began to stroke him in the ways I liked myself. I teased the head by running my finger tips around the edges, then I stroked it firmly, alternating between the soft teasing of the head and full strokes for several minutes. Soon enough, his humping motions became more pronounced and before I realized what was happening, sperm came flying out of the hole in the head of his cock, spattering on my knees, my thighs and my pants. A muffled cry drifted over the wall between us and then his cock disappeared. 

I was right on the edge of orgasm myself and was about to shove my own cock through the wall for my turn, when I realized he was pulling up his pants and exiting the stall. I almost cried out "Wait!" but knew it wouldn't avail me. So I closed my eyes and rubbed his sperm into my skin as I brought myself to perhaps the most powerful orgasm of my life. It just went on and on and on, draining my balls completely.

Spent, I sat with my head in my hands for a moment or two completely unaware that I had sperm all over those hands. Then I realized that I was a huge mess—his sperm mixed with my own on my thighs and my forehead. So I cleaned up as best I could and returned to my books down in the grill, hoping no one there could see me trembling.

As I pretended to study, I glanced surreptitiously at every guy in the room, wondering if he was the guy I'd just brought off upstairs. If I could have seen their shoes, I might have had a better chance of knowing, because other than his cock, that was the only part of my lover that I'd gotten a clear look at.

On Friday I couldn't get to lunch quickly enough. When I mounted the stairs toward the men's room of my desire, I stared straight ahead, not wanting to give anyone there a clue that I was on my way to have sex. That and I hoped that none of them had noticed the bulge in my pants.

When I entered the men's room, I was abashed to see that I was alone. My lover of Wednesday had not returned to wait for me! Undaunted, I took my seat in the left hand stall, closed my eyes and began to stroke my cock, remembering his as it protruded through the wall for me to enjoy. 

I was lost in my own fantasies when I heard the door creak open. Fearing that it might be a legitimate visitor to the men's room, I pushed my hardness down into the bowl to hide it from view, lifted the newspaper off my lap and pretended to read. The new visitor entered the stall next to me but right away it became plain that he was there for the same reason that I was, because very soon I could hear the unmistakable sounds of a hand spanking a hard cock. 

Peering through the hole again, I saw that it was a different person altogether. I knew this to be true because the cock I was looking at was much smaller than the one I'd stroked just two days before, but it was no less hard.

I repositioned myself so that he could see me stroking myself too and for several minutes the two of us beat off together without speaking. I wondered who was going to make the first move, when I heard his voice rasp out, "Give it to me."

Standing, my pants down around my ankles, I shoved my cock through that hole, pressing myself against the wall until my pelvis was against the cool surface. My cock was stretched so tight it ached and something about it being there, on the other side of a wall, in the face of someone I didn't know and would never see, sent me into spasms of shaking. I wasn't about to cum…I was overcome by the moment, by what was about to happen.

For half a second I contemplated withdrawing, when all of a sudden his mouth closed on my cock. My high school girlfriend had given me a couple of blow jobs, but had never loved it, preferring to have me inside her. I'd enjoyed what she'd done to me, but within minutes, I realized that she had no idea how to suck a cock. This guy was doing things with his mouth that I 'd never felt, never imagined. His tongue was like a snake slithering around, over, under my cock, teasing it, tantalizing it. And then he would clamp down on me and suck so hard I thought the head would explode from the pressure. This went on for several minutes, but I couldn't take it and came, spurting semen into his mouth that he greedily sucked and swallowed. 

It was all I could do to keep from falling down I felt so weak.

So I did the next best thing and sat on the john, breathing hard, waiting to see what would happen next. 

Not surprisingly, the next thing that happened was his cock appearing through the hole for me to service. I tried to convince myself that I should suck him just as he'd sucked me. Fair is fair, I told myself. But somehow I just couldn't. I don't know if it was a line I couldn't cross because if I did I would be gay, or if I just wasn't ready to go that far. Whatever the reason, I did for him as I'd done for the other unknown guy two days earlier and stroked him lovingly, my face close to his cock, until he came. 

He must have had big balls, because the quantity of sperm he deposited in my stall was much greater than what had happened two days earlier. This time I was ready, though, and when he began to hump the stall, I pointed him away from me and watched, fascinated, as his sperm splatted on the door of the stall and dripped onto the floor.

Again I waited for him to leave, whoever he was. I didn't want to see his face, to know who he was. I wanted us to stay unknown forever.

The following Monday, I returned to my secret sex room, ready to resume my new secret life as a bathroom stall sex fiend, but instead of finding another lover, I found a disaster! 

Over the weekend the University had painted the entire bathroom bright white and worst of all had replaced the stall wall with the hole in it. Dejectedly, not really able to believe what had happened to me, I took a leak in one of the urinals, washed my hands and left. I felt like something had been wrenched from my body as I trudged back to the grill to resume my studying, a feeling of almost indescribably sadness sitting on my shoulders like a dead weight.

On Wednesday, I returned for one last visit, just in case someone had renewed the place, but it was just as white and pristine as it had been on Monday. Not one word of graffiti adorned either stall. It was if the gay community of the University had moved on to some other secret rendezvous that I had no access to.

For a couple of days I considered visiting every men's room on campus until I found out where they had all gone, but somehow I knew it would not be the same. 

Then in the middle of March I met a girl at a fraternity party who, after we'd both had six or seven beers, invited me up to her room "for some fun." It turned out that she liked to fuck almost as much as my high school girlfriend and before long, I'd consigned my secret gay sex life to a corner of my mind, to be trotted out from time to time late at night when I needed a fantasy to help me cum alone in my bed.

But sometimes I wonder what would have happened if the University hadn't ended my quest. I know I would have sucked a cock. The desire was on me even as I entered the bathroom that penultimate time. But would I have felt a man's ass slide onto my cock coming to rest against the cool walls of the stall? Or would I have pressed my own asshole up against the artist's rendering, eagerly waiting to be violated by an unknown man's hardness? Maybe. Maybe.



The Hole



When this story occurred I was about 18, my step-sister, the object of my observations, was a freshman in college. I was just starting to explore my own sexuality, and the nice round B sized cups of my sister were a good place to start. She was about 5' 2", dirty blond hair; blue eyes and a petite but rounded body. Not big enough to be fat, but a little bit of meat on her so not to be boney, so that when you really start to fuck her, you have a little bit of padding to hit, and the slapping of your ass on her's is a loud smack, smack smack. But I digress...

This was the first time I saw her in the shower. I had seen her change before, in her room, from under her bed. The bed was not quite tall enough, it was only 5 inches high with a sheer bed skirt, just enough to obscure the boxes, or people under the bed. I couldn't quite fit under there with enough space to see my sister's mirror, in front of which she changed. Well, the whole point was to see her in front of the mirror, as when she came out of the shower she was only in a short little towel, barely covering that cute little 19 year old ass of hers. From under the bed, you could barely make out though the sheer bed skirt her ass and her awesome tits. But not her pussy, you could never see her pussy because every time she would come out of the shower, walk into her room, drop her towel, and then bam panties. At first I was amazed by only her tits, but the urge to see her pussy became immeasurable. 

My sister's tits were the best thing I had ever seen. They are basically big B's, but as we all know there is a range of great tits. There are the ones that barely make the B level, only to satisfy the girls that they aren't an A, and there are the perfectly formed B sized tits that are a little bit bigger then your palm, squeeze through your fingers as you rub them, barely squeezing though. My sister's were the larger of the two, but with tiny nipples. Little pink nipples. Oh, these were the greatest thing ever, but no pussy. 

At this point I had my 'under the bed routine' down. It was simple. I would hear my older freshman sister start the water next to my room and then it was time to go to work. At this time I knew she was stripping down, taking off the bras and panties I had already come in. At this point I had made a point of jerking off in all of her underwear, stealing it from the clean laundry, and coming in the crotch so that my come constantly resided next to her cunt. I figured it was only a little crispy, usually wore our so that her juices were constantly intermingling with my sperm. So as I thought of her little pussy being striped of my come filled panties, I would grab the four blocks of 2" by 6" wood I had stashed, and carefully and intentionally cut, from inside my desk.

Then I would sneak into her room as she showered. The plan was basically to come in, put a block under each leg, sneak under her bed, then watch her undress when she cam out of the shower. Well, there were complications. First, the extra 1.5" of room neither creates a lot of room nor allows for extra visibility from under the bed. As much as you would like to, and god knows I did, stick your head out and take a look around, you have to stay behind the little sheer bed skirt, and see what you could see.


Well, at first this looked like looking out from under her bed and looking at her door, which was to right of her dresser. The dresser had her bras and panties in it, the frequent target of my raids. It was also where she changed. So the plan involved looking from under the bed towards the dresser and the mirror. Here is where I saw my sister sizing herself up, examining her beautiful tits, playing with them casually, and then putting on a bra. Of course after the bra went on, the interest decreased but the commitment could not.

I was now under a bed, not able to go to the bathroom, sneeze, and drink or do anything else. I watched my sister try on cloths, different bras, tight black pants, jeans, or skirts. I was in a divine hell watching my sister change, nude, barely clad, and listen to her talk to her girlfriends about her most intimate secrets. You were trapped and this meant that the 1-2 minutes of greatness left thirty to forty minutes of hiding and waiting. It was at the tail end of the last of under-bed expeditions that I decided I had to step it up a level. 

My sister had come out of the shower and I was under her bed. Sneaking and looking around but nothing. From my position I couldn't see shit. I would hear noises, but nothing. She was to the right of the bed, outside of my view because when you were under the short bed you couldn't look either way because your head was trapped either to the left or right because the low height of the bed made it impossible to turn without pushing up the bed. So I was trapped looking left towards the mirror in front of which my sister would display herself, but there was obviously something, at least a lot of noise to my right where I couldn't see. So I was left to make a decision, either turn my head and see what was to my right and squeeze my head into the bed as it rotates, possibly disturbing the bed, my sister, and giving away my position. Or, I can stay where I am and miss the action. 

You know which one I chose. I looked right risking her possibly feeling my head from under the mattress (It turns out 'actually felt' as my sister has later told me…). What I saw was hot, mysterious and inaccessible. Her legs were spread apart and moving a little bit. Moving a little bit, more of a shaking, and I could feel her wiggling above me on the mattress. She kept moving, squiggling, and then the muffled squealing and moaning started. I knew she was masturbating, fingering herself, pleasuring herself. Something I'd heard of but never was able to see. Also, the way my head was facing, the complete opposite of the direction I was looking, I couldn't relive myself by jerking off and simply had to sit there. So I sat there, tortured, under her bed as my sister fingered herself furiously on her bed, squealing, moaning, and wiggling above me with her thrashing transferring itself through the mattress into my trapped body that could not be relived because I was trapped. As my sister's fingers finally brought her to orgasm directly above me, she moaned and finally came in the empty house, eventually getting dressed in front of her mirror where I would have been able to see here if I'd still been turning left. At this point I didn't care, I needed to see my sister's pussy. 

So I turned to the random piece of military paraphernalia from my father's career that explained various surveillance techniques. The one I selected was developed by East Germany based on the Kodak Pinhole Camera. The camera that Kodak invented is a pinhole, with a makeshift shutter, and film behind it in a completely black box. I only stole the first part, but after seeing what I had seen I wished (still to this day) that I'd had the film and not my eye in it. Regardless, the East Germans were notorious for spying on each other (1 in 6 of the population was employed in some way by the Stazi) and developed interesting and cheap ways to do so. One of those took advantage of the construction of drywall, which is that there is paper on both sides with a composite in the middle. The method is to remove one side of the drywall, slowly and silently remove the composite between the layers, leaving only the paper on the interior of the wall.

So then, you just poke a hole in the paper and watch the action. If you set up a proper Kodak camera, you can see the Kodak website, and then you can have a proper photo but I never did. I only looked through the hole in my wall, hidden behind a poster, and looked out of the hole next to my sister's mirror. It should have been the best location ever, looking over where she changed, but only her unbelievable tits. Whenever she left the shower, she had panties on under her towel. The work on the hole was useless, all I got was what I already had but with a worse view. Although the hole is very discrete it does not give a great view, and the goal of my whole enterprise was to see her pussy. I'd never seen a pussy outside of the internet and this was the time. No matter what.

My plan was risky but possible. Our rooms were on the top floor, only the attic was above our rooms, and the only way into the attic was a fold down ladder from the ceiling, which happened to bed between my sister's room and the bathroom where she showered. So, she would have to leave her room, go into the shower, I would leave my hiding spot in the closest closet (It provided the best access to the ladder in the hall, less moving on the floor and its squeaks, and most importantly gave her the feeling she was alone in the house because I wasn't in my room which was conspicuously open). After I left the closet, I'd pull down the door and ladder, which I'd have already had greased to avoid noise, and then pull it up. After that, I moves silently, which was a challenge, over the shower. Then I moved the insulation out of the way and looked down through the hole I'd provided like the one in my room directly down into the shower and onto my sister.

Bingo. I win. I got the view I wanted, finally with the water running over my 20 yr old sister's unbelievable body and I had finally seen my sister's pussy. Well, bush, as she had a furry bush. It was my first bush and I didn't have anything to compare it to so that the fact that it was hidden under all of her bushy hair surprised me. It still surprises me, a little girl like that with a ton of hair covering her pussy was amazing. I laid there in my perch of plywood, looking through the drywall, surrounded by insulation, rubbing my cock and watching my sister shower from above her.

At first she just stood under the water naked, it running over her 110 pound five foot two inch body. Those great B's getting soaked down. Then she started to run through the normal shower activities, first soaking down her hair. Then her outstretched body rubbing the shampoo into her hair. Her hands were above her body, her 20-year old tits perking out from her chest as she rubbed the shampoo into her hair. She rubbed down her hair in the water then soaked down her body before she got ready to wash herself. She rubbed down her body with soap, starting at her chest, then rubbing her tits, playing with them seductively, rubbing down her pink nipples, as she worked her way down her stomach. Her breasts shivered as she cleaned her stomach. Then she rubbed down her ass and legs bending over, giving me the first view of my sister's unbelievable ass crack. As she bent over to clean her cute little asshole, it peaked out at me, which sent me over the edge. I came instantly, spewing come all over my hand and the two by four next to my perch. That was it, I'd seen her pussy and my mission was accomplished, then she started shaving her legs.

She shifted the water from the shower to the tub where it ran into the tub, got her shaving supplies and started shaving her legs. Well, as far as I was concerned this fell into the category of me having to wait until she was done, and then escape to secure my position. My sister started shaving, up and down her legs, the thing that really kept me into it was her shaving the edges of her raging bush. She would come up, rub herself with some cream and water, rub herself, the shave of the edges. After she was done shaving her legs, her bush still stuck out, she wasn't quite to the level where she started shaving her pussy. 

After she was done, I figured the water from the tub spout would be turned off, she would go back to her room, she would leave for whatever sexual accouter she had scheduled herself for, and I'd escape down the ladder and back to my room. This was the plan until she squatted down. What was she thinking? What was she doing? I'd seen her shower, shave, and all of the other typical shower activities. What was she doing? She got down into the running water, stretched herself out and rubbed her cunt. Outstanding, I was finally getting to see her finger herself; I got the show missed from under the bed.

But no fingering, she positioned herself spread-eagle under the faucet, with her pussy directly under the water. Its hard to explain how hot a 20 year old looks reverse straddling a faucet, with her cunt little tits perking up, her body squirming, and water rubbing down her furry bush. Leave it to say, its hot. My cock was immediately hard regardless of me having just come.

I'd never seen anything like it, my sister rubbing her tits, her thighs, between her legs, as the water ran through her legs. At first she squirmed as she started to come, her upper body wiggling, seeing her grab furiously at her own tits, leaving mars with her nail's as she pinched her own tits. Then she started to really come,. Her body jerking up and down, splashing in the shallow water. It was unbelievable. I jerk off and its more of a procedure, waiting my sister fucking the bath tub faucet was like a evangelical experience for her, she was clearly seeing another world. She shifted, wiggled, and then shivered as she came. She laid there, water gently caressing her pussy with her fingers as the water ran over it.

I blew my load again during her masturbation session, and I laid there as I watched her exit the shower, get dried and squared away naked. Then she put her panties on and her towel around her, the problem that led me to create my ceiling mounted solution. She got dressed and left.

My final view of my sister, whenever I see her, is her wide open below the faucet coming ferociously. I'll see her at a family outing, and the only question I have is if she has shaven that giant bush down, or more likely shaved it. I can only hope, plot, and wait and soon I will know. 



The Hole



I had dozed off a few times during the long drive in the morning. The family car, packed to the gills with camping gear and stuff to "ruff" it as my dad seemed to enjoy saying at least ten times an hour, rumbled down the highway for the umpteenth hour inching along on the map towards the days mileage goal. Being back from college for the summer I really didn't mind just relaxing in the back of the station wagon and listening to my iPod, zoning out after the rush and crush of final exams. My sister Holly, a year younger then me was also back from her freshman year in college and was staring out the window as the landscape rolled by.

When my mom and dad had suggested the idea in the winter it had sounded like a fun trip back to a more nostalgic time in our family dynamics. A trip like we had when we were kids (we being Holly and I) a last hurrah for the family as a unit before the inevitable shifts in our lives slowly worked us apart over the next few years. None of us spoke of it as such of course, but I think we all felt the same way.

So the car rumbled on, the scenery trundled past, and we all made small talk to while the time away. The only major difference on this trip compared to past ones was that Holly and I were no longer fighting like cats and dogs abut everything, being (slightly) more mature then in the past. Holly had grown quickly from an awkward teen girl to a vibrant, beautiful woman in her senior year of high school. She got into college on a scholarship for soccer and come back from her first year at school as a different person. She was beautiful, 5'5ish athletic, a nice tan from her spring break trip to Cancun, dusky shoulder length red hair, and wonderfully soft hazel eyes. It was no wonder the reaction she got from neighborhood males when they saw her now. (My dad said far too often that she looked like our mom did when she was younger. Not something an 18 year old girl wants to hear.) To top all this off she had proven herself to be quite the academic, and was putting my 3.0ish average to shame already. Of course I teased her about that, since freshman year is exceedingly easy, or so I told myself trying to forget the 2's I pulled for most of my classes.

We had stopped at a roadside burger joint for food an hour or so before, so as a sign stating 10 miles to the next rest stop flashed by my dad asked if anyone needed to use the head at an upcoming stop. (My dad had spent years in The Corps as he liked to call it, and still called bathrooms "heads" and stairways "ladderwells" regardless of how silly it sounded to the rest of us.) When my dad asked if anyone had to go, generally that meant he had to but didn't want to just come out and say it.

I said that I wouldn't mind stopping just to satisfy his need for not appearing to have a weak bladder. 

After 10 miles or so we pulled off the highway and into a generic little 90% kept up rest area with a food court and small store. Dad parked the car, then we all got out, stretching while walking towards the brick building to get the kinks out. Holly picked ungracefully at her shorts which had given her a bit of a wedgie in the middle of the parking lot as she walked for a step or two.

"You are so gross Hol." I chided her, pushing her on the shoulder a bit roughly. She stumbled a bit, one leg held out for a second like a drunken sailor as she finished fixing her shorts, then shot me look of mock anger, sticking her tongue out at me.

"mooooom.. Tom pushed me." She tattled, smiling now.

I pushed her again as we walked, and mom turned around "Tom, you are only allowed to push her if she deserves it honey." She turned back around and disappeared through the swinging doors a few steps ahead of us into the air-conditioned rest area.

I stuck my tongue out at Holly again, but then held the door for her and let her enter first. She giggled a bit as she went through

"Thank you sirah" she enunciated.

After my eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the entrance way I saw, to no surprise, that it was indeed a completely uninteresting generic highway stop. I wondered idly if route 66 still had any interesting stops on it, or if the world of highway travel was now solely populated by Popeye's and Roy Rogers with their heat lamps and limp lettuce.

We split up, Dad making a beeline for the bathroom, Mom to the Starbucks, and I to the store to browse the mags or something to waste time. I missed where Holly had gone. After spending all of two minutes in the store I had seen everything they had to offer and denounced it as either old or boring, and headed back out to the middle of the concourse between the bathrooms and food court.

Mom was all of halfway through the line to get coffee (where do all these people come from anyway) and I did actually need to pee a bit, so I turned on a heel and headed for the men's room after all. Might as well get it out of the way now as opposed to being uncomfortable in the car later I decided, making room for someone leaving the bathroom before entering it myself.

There was a wall of urinals, though most were occupied or broken it seemed. There is an unwritten law in the men's room that consists of three major components: 

1. Never talk to someone who is peeing, 

2. Never look at someone who is peeing and 

3. Always, unless there is an emergency, leave every other urinal open so you don't actually have to be close to someone else who is peeing. 

I start looking in the stalls, since the urinals are all full, and wonder if the people who design bathrooms know about these rules, and if they did how much money could they save by installing fake instead of real urinals in every other spot. 

Due to one reason or another even the stalls were not habitable until I reached the last one on the end and entered, closing the door behind me. The stalls were more of rooms, with sheetrock walls that reached the ceilings, a small frosted chicken-wire window high up on the wall to let in some light and the metal door that, when closed reached three-quarters of the height to the ceiling in the front. It was actually pretty snug and clean for once I mused as I pulled my dick out, staring up at the window, trying as always to act like I wasn't standing someplace, well, peeing.

My gaze swept around the cubicle, reading some of the rather dull graffiti and promises of blowjobs in the parking lot at such and such a time when I saw what at first glance looked like a fairly well drawn vagina on the left-hand wall. The lips and vulva had been drawn by a talented hand around a hole in the wall at about waist level, with spread, toned legs that faded off to nothing on each side.

The drawing was actually good enough that my cock started to get a little hard as I looked at it. Then to my shock I noticed movement in the hole! Someone was watching me form the other side! It was a damn glory hole.


Great, now what the fuck am I supposed to do. I was not quite done pissing yet but nearly so. It wasn't like Bubba on the other side could get to me through a wall; I'd just finish then get the fuck out of there. But then a thought occurred to me. This was the last stall in line in the men's room. The glory hole was in the wall on the LEFT side of the stall. The wall that was shared by the women's room.

These thoughts literally took a fraction of a second to chase around in my head; I went form thinking of some gay truck driver watching me piss to the realization that there was a woman watching me through the hole. This was a slightly more interesting situation now. 

I shook my cock like I normally do after going to the bathroom, then gave it a few slow strokes instead of putting it back in my pants, watching out of the corner of my eye what the reaction was in the hole. 

I heard a low, muffled but appreciative "mmmmm" come form the other side of the wall. Whoever it was had a really good vantage point all of a foot away from my slowly hardening cock. 

"Do you like?" I said in a low voice, my tone cracking as I tried to maintain my calm.

There was a pause, then another purring noise. Low, sweet, promising. 

I looked over my shoulder, unsure why since the door was shut and you would have to be a good eight feet tall to see over the steel thing, but nervous all the same. What should I do? I wasn't a shut-in, I'd heard about glory holes before though I've certainly never seen or used one. But it was pretty hot.

In the end, the end being another two or so seconds later, my cock decided for me. I stroked it a few more times, then turned to face the hole. I bent over a bit, and could see in about an inch or so deep a pair of lips with light pink gloss, slightly parted, her tongue barely visible between running slowly across her teeth. 

Fuck it.

Forming a ring around the base of my cock with my right thumb and forefinger, my other fingers keeping my balls happy, I slowly guided my cock into the hole, arching my back so I could watch as long as possible until physics required me not to. In a heartbeat my hand was flush with the wall, all seven inches of my cock sunk into the pussy drawn on the wall.

For a nervous second I didn't feel anything, and began to wonder if maybe this wasn't what I thought it was, but maybe I'm was going to feel a knife cut though my cock or someone grab it and try to run off or some such painful activity. Thankfully a warm, beautiful wetness then enveloped the head of my cock, and ran slowly, tantalizing down nearly the whole shaft.

"Oh fuck yeah" I say, a bit too loud. I froze for a moment but no one out in the rest of the men's room appeared to have heard, or if they did they didn't care. I relaxed again, enjoying the feels of her lips and tongue on my cock. 

She was good, very good. She worked me deeper into her throat, nearly gagging a few times, bobbing her head on my cock in the wall. I imagined her kneeling on the floor on the other side, though my mind couldn't focus on a specific image since someone was actively and eagerly sucking on my cock. In my minds eye she was a sexy slut, like one of those girls form high school you were never allowed by your buddies to hang out with but were rumored to be bi and fuck anything that moved.

The woman varied her pace, would sometimes pull all the way off then slowly lick around the head, trailing her hot rough tongue down the sides of my shaft, then suddenly suck me back into the deep warm recesses of her perfect mouth.

She worked her mouth and hands harder around my cock, her hands were petite but strong and felt wonderful when she would take a break from sucking to firmly jerk my cock in the hole. 

I could feel my balls tightening, and my cock thickened as I was getting closer to cumming. She held my cock as close to the wall as she could and slowly bent her head forward, taking me in as deep as she could. I felt her cheeks and tongue wrap around me as she moved her hand and mouth in unison. Right before I was about to come the bliss of her mouth disappeared and her hand, gentle to this point clamped down on my cock.

For a second panic started to bloom in me, she was a psycho! Damn! But then she released after a few seconds and let go totally. She was just delaying me from cumming, I realized a tad too late.

The good thing was my momentary panic now reversed the process of me coming some so I wasn't as close as I had been the second before. But where had my lips within the pussy gone?

I pulled my cock out and bent to peer into the hole. The stall on the other side must have been a mirror of mine but I guessed the light must have been out since it was dim. All I could see anyway was a toilet paper dispenser. Damn, she had gone, what a tease! I thought.

Then I heard the shuffling of clothes and my view was blocked by something. I backed up a bit to get a better view and my heart skipped a beat. Wavering on the other side of the hole I could clearly see her pussy and asshole. She had bent over, and had backed her ass up to the hole. She wanted me to fuck her and dump my load inside her!

"Oh hell yaah.." I muttered as I placed my cock in the hole again and bumper her through it. This was amazing, fucking intense! I thought. Not being able to see it took a few tries to get things lined up, which I didn't really mind since this involved my wet cock being pressed against this woman's cute asshole or cheek. I couldn't tell much in the limited glimpses I saw through the hole but she had a shaved pussy, and was probably in fairly good shape. It was hard to tell more (and I really didn't care that much at the time truth be told) through the hole. After a few seconds I felt a warm, tightness on the tip of my cock, then slowly she backed against me as I pushed into the hole, burying my cock inside her. 

I didn't know what to do really, did I pump? Did she? How did this work with a wall between us? Her pussy was amazing, fairly tight, very wet, and very hot. She fit me like a glove. At about the same time she moved her hips forward I pulled out some, and then we both drove back on each other a few inches. We quickly worked up a rhythm that worked, me rolling my hips, legs spread a bit to get as close to the gloryhole as I could, and she bouncing back on my cock in unison. It felt amazing, absolutely dirty and evil. I loved it. 


She must have felt that I was getting close again since, with a small thud on the wall, she bottomed out on me and the hole and stayed there, letting me just pump her cunt through the wall, thrusting harder and harder.

I heard small gasps coming occasion form the other side, and a definite slick whisping noise coming form the hole as my cock, slick with her juices, pulled nearly out to the tip, then plunged back into her warmth. 

I bit my lip trying to be quiet as my breathing became more ragged. After a few more hard, deep thrusts I buried myself as deep as I could into her cunt then came so hard I thought I would black out. 

A muffled "oh!" came form the other side, but the wonderful ass stayed in place, accepting greedily every hot jet of semen my balls pumped into her. After a few more thrusts and depositing a few smaller loads of cum I pulled out of the hole, my cock, thick and swollen bobbing in the air to my heartbeat, wet cum coating the shaft and a thin line of cum still leading into the hole.

The hole. It was dark. I bent over and looked but could see nothing in the other stall. I quickly cleaned up with some toilet paper, shoved my abused cock back into the confines of my pants and, after flushing this down the toilet, exited the stall. I looked around expecting there to be a line of cops ready to arrest the pervert in the last stall but everything was the same, a normal rest stop bathroom with people coming and going, washing hands and the like. I walked sheepishly out into the lobby looking for my family. 

I quickly located my dad by the starbucks, looking impatient holding a tray with three coffees. My sister was nowhere in sight. He grunted, and offered me one of the coffees form the tray.

"Where is Holly?" He asked no one n particular, obviously annoyed and wanting to get back into the car.

"She went in to use the head a bit ago, we need to get going." he added looking at his watch. 

My heart stopped, and then started again just so I could feel it stop again. Ooooooooh shit. No.. no way it couldn't have been her. I started to sweat some, feeling like I was about to fall into some deep pit. What if, what if Holly was in that stall? What if she was some closet slut freak and ended up fucking me through a glory hole? 

In a minute or so my mom came out, smiling when she saw us. She came over, and grabbed one of the coffees from the tray as well after making sure it was the half-decaf one.

She took a sip while looking at us.

"What are we waiting for?"

"Holly." My dad and I said at the same time.

"Oh, she is back at the car already, let's go." Mom said as she moved by us, already heading towards the door.

Mom turned to push the door open with her back then we followed her out into the sunlight once more, moving with a sense of purpose towards the car, as my dad would say.

Relief washed over me as I approached the car for sure enough Holly was sitting on the hood, looking very, very bored waiting for us. 

My dad scoffed at her, telling her to get her ass off the car (a nice ass I notice now, my messed up mind not quite back on its own legs yet) and get inside as he unlocks it with his key fob.

My mom started to get in the passenger side but she has magazines and junk on her seat. Turning slightly she handed me her coffee so she could move the stuff and get in while I stood there holding her drink like some Indian manservant from a 1920's movie.

"Okay I'm ready Tom." She said one hand back out the door motioning for her coffee.

"What's the hold up Susan?" my dad intoned from the other side of the car.

I took too long to give it to her apparently as I was still standing flatfooted, thinking. She half got out of the car and grabbed the coffee then got back in.

"Really Tom, just get in so we can get going and not disturb your dad's precious schedule." Mock annoyance filled her voice.

Dumbly, mechanically I opened my door and sank into my seat in the car.

The car pulled out of the parking spot backwards, and then picked up speed as Dad maneuvered through the gas station area and back out onto the highway.

"fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.." I said finally. Staring at the ceiling of the car, seatbelt ignored and limp at my shoulder.

Holly looked over at me quizzically, but after seeing the look on my face decided to just ignore me, and went back to gazing at the scenery rolling by, listening to her music on her own iPod.

We drove for hours, the three of them occasionally talking, but all attempts to engage me failed

All I could think about was the pink lipstick marks on mom's coffee cup.



The Hole



It was the look that unnerved me. 

It was too intense, too constant, unsolicited and therefore without reason. 

That's what I was telling myself. 

At the train station, standing in line and waiting to pay for my "Cafe Americano" is when I'd noticed it. 

Peering at me "through the heads" of others behind me. A few feet away, holding my glance too strongly. 

Certainly he didn't know me. He couldn't...could he? 

Then why the chill that ran down my spine?

Stepping forward I'm next in line and my mind went elsewhere, but for a moment only. Casually ... nonchalantly, I turned my head to look again.

There it was ... there he was.

Clear blue, unblinking eyes that stopped my head from turning. Held my gaze, held me frozen till the connection was broken by the woman behind me, her gentle nudge letting me know I could now pay my bill. 

///////////////////

It was a beautiful day in Italy.

High blue sky with billowy white clouds that dotted the green, mountainous landscape with moving shadows as they blocked the warm, energizing sun.

Altogether beautiful. 

There was still about a week to my vacation and I was putting thoughts of going home from my mind. I felt so comfortable, welcome and relaxed moving about all these strangers, thought of that time ending wasn't to be entertained.

I'd not rented a car on purpose.

I wanted to be amongst the people as much as possible and not sit solitary, alone moving from one location to the other. Normal life already had too much of that ; too much solitary confinement. 

Here I felt refreshed and invigorated by the warmth, graciousness of the Italian people. They didn't seem too hurried by everyday life to put some sunshine into yours. All you had to do was open your windows and let them in - which I was.

Making a train switch, I was waiting to connect with another that would take me to my destination and there was time to kill. So I was looking about at everything. Taking pictures of anything. Even small, inconsequential things that reflected their life. So different than mine, yet so familiar. 

I wanted to be able to remember, recall these artifacts and not lose them in a blur of memories. 

Then nature called and I set about finding a men's room. These too I'd found were different from ours. 

The camera was put up away. No picture taking to take place here. No interest to seem weird but I was still curiously noticing the subtle differences. 

The urinals in this bathroom were full body length not the little "depositories" you find nowadays and although the bathroom was empty, I sought out a unit that would offer the best privacy should someone come in. I wound up choosing the one at the end of the row, a unit in a small enclave with a "privacy door". 

Locked in and free to pee in privacy, I got to it and my eyes scanned the walls for any interesting reading. Not that I'd be able to translate or understand it but I always seemed to do this so why should Italy be different? 

No graphics could be found. No "For a blow job call ......" or "Suck my cock......" or what looked like the Italian equivalent.

No scrawls of an oversized cock and balls, a drip of cum coming from the dramatically large head. Universal symbols dating back to Cavemen times. 

Nothing. Just a plain ole "get in, get out" no kink for you today bathroom. 

It was then that I saw it. 

Not till I'd finished, not till I'd stepped away from the wall urinal, did I see the small hole in the ceramic tile.

About three feet from the urinal itself, about waist high and only about 1/4-1/2" in diameter, it was easy to overlook. If it were in fact a glory hole, which it probably wasn't since it was pretty small...I didn't think it in the right location.

I'd have thought it better to be nearer the urinal, where it would give the Watcher more that he'd come to see. 

It was then that I realized I was standing in the "line of sight" ... if it were a glory hole. It was then that I realized my crotch would be contained by that circle ... if it were a glory hole. 

It was then that I realized someone watching might think I was flashing them.

If it were a glory hole. 

It was then that my cock started swelling.

I knew the bathroom was empty. I knew that there wasn't anybody there, but still I looked at the door latch before I unzipped my jeans again. Before I leaned back against the wall and before before I pulled my jeans down. 

I was completely alone ... safe ... of this I was certain, but the idea of giving a show had made my small cock ache. 

Leaning back I gave the hole a good look at my bikini briefs. Rubbed myself slowly, squeezed the hidden hard on.

Pulling the briefs to the side, I exposed my smooth balls and the curve of my prick. Hard and pointed sideways. 

I stroked myself for "the hole". Stroked for the somebody I knew wasn't there but could be. The somebody who could be enjoying my self pleasures, could be getting excited by my giving myself up...could be...but wasn't.

Making it easier, I pulled the front of the bikini briefs down and snagged the waistband under my balls. This held them up higher and gave "the hole" a clearer view of my aroused cock, my trimmed pubes. With legs spread and pelvis pushed forward, I jacked off quickly. My prick aimed at the nobody on the other side of "the hole." My cum shots poised to fly at the nobody on the other side, looking through. .

Turning a bit sideways, I gave "the hole" a different view of my pole....my stiff and suckable pole.

Palming my balls, I let my cock throb loose while I worked my sac. Slowly ... fully ... I was teasing "the hole" with my prick bobbing up and down in front of it as I tugged on myself. I was giving the someone I knew not to be there exactly what he'd looked into "the hole" for : another mans need, his weakness and possibilities. 

Its these thoughts that would make another man look. These thoughts I was playing with. These thoughts that kept me stiff and stroking for five undisturbed ... safe and solitary ... minutes. 

I didn't want to make a mess in the bathroom. Didn't want the memory of leaving my cum on a bathroom floor in a foreign land, so I stopped and with some regret put my hard on back where it belonged and left the enclave.

It was then that I saw him ... or the shape of him at least. 

As I walked from the closed enclave I saw a man. With peripheral vision I saw him standing, leaned up against the wall. 

It was the wall with "the hole", the view into my area. 

My heart jumped. 

Heading for the door, I made quick stop at one of the sinks and saw him. From the corner of my eye he was walking towards me, towards the door. I finished and left just as he stopped three sinks away. 

I didn't look back ... but could "feel" him. 

As certain as I was earlier of being alone, now I knew he was there. 

Following me ... pacing me. 

I needed to get to people Needed to get lost in a crowd. Needed to run from the self I'd exposed. 

I'd thought I was alone ... free ... I was wrong.

My inner self was there ... always is ... and now someone else had seen it. 

///////////////////

There were only a few people getting on my train, but he was one. 

I watch him step on board one car up, trying my best not to get caught looking.

Hustling past people, I was no longer acknowledging them. Everything now seemed a silent rush, a desperate race to find an empty seat....to truly be alone. 

When the train started there was only one other person in my car. He was seated four or five rows behind me, his focus on the newspaper in hand. I took solace that it wasn't him, that he'd not come in. 

I was then that I noticed it. 

My cock was hard ... had stayed hard ... or just gotten hard ... I couldn't say. In all my mental hurry I'd not noticed but it was unmistakably stiff and showed no signs of giving up. 

Then he was there.

He was looking at me from the other side of the glass door between cars. That same plaintive, unemotional and blinking gaze. 

I looked back. I felt compelled to look back. 

He held my gaze as the door swung open...then closed behind him.

My cock was aching.

He held my gaze as he walked down the aisle to take a seat one up on the opposite side...facing me.

I could hardly breathe. 

His face always expressionless. I can only guess what he saw in mine but his clear blue eyes wouldn't release me. 

The train noise drowned out my hearing, the situation blocked out my thinking. 

All I could see was him. All I could feel was the pounding of my heart and urgent throbbing of my cock. 

I felt exposed...even more so than before. I felt completely naked before him...my hard cock making me weak, giving him my strength. I felt humiliated. I'd let this stranger peer inside a "locked up" me...but his stalking of it had me excited. 

I felt strangely safe. I sensed we knew each others minds...that our gazes silently transferred our needs, that both our cocks were rock hard and for the same reason. 

He glanced downward ...at my crotch...then back and "nodded."

I knew immediately what he wanted and it felt good. 

I wanted it too, more than anything now.

Oblivious to all else, I slid my hand over my crotch and squeezed hard.

The flicker of a grin across his face confirmed we were one and my knees spread.

In just a moment his full, hard cock was out. His fingers wrapped around it quickly and he began to stroke.

There was no wall between us now...there was no small "hole" funneling our desires. 

Sitting a few feet from each other in a open rail car, our eyes fed on each other. Our bodies were doing the talking and for the first time I was letting mine express something I'd never let it admit...that cock got me hot. 

My fingers found my zipper and soon I joined him...cock in hand.

I'd done it for "the hole" earlier. Now I did it for him and was much stiffer.

My pants down to mid-thigh I was fully exposed...for him....and I was smiling now... for him.

Watching him squeeze his balls...his hard cock thrust up to his lower stomach...I had to stop. 

I had to leave my cock alone. Had to let it throb untouched. Feeling that intense, almost burning sensation within it that only comes just before release, I could feel cum slowly creeping up. My dick head was fully expanded and glowing shiny red. The hole was stretched tight and any second I expected creamy white cum would squeeze itself out. 

Another tiny stroke ; just the slightest caress ; an inconvenient soft breeze....and my prick was going to spew! 

I "held" my position...laid out...cock pointed to the ceiling like a missile poised to blast off till the sensations subsided. 

He was smiling at my condition and began motioning "that way" and I understood entirely. 

Slowly putting myself together, handling my prick like a stick of dynamite I was soon headed to the back of the car. To the destination he wanted me at...where I needed to be...the men's room.

Conveniently, Italian train bathrooms are larger than ours, perhaps they do alot of this. 

I didn't lock the door. 

Turning, unzipping and lowing my jeans, I was going to give my hard cock to the first guy to walk through that door.

I didn't have to wait long before he came through to claim his prize and locking the door behind him, he slid to the floor and swallowed my prick in one wonderful gulp. 

"Ahhhhhhhhh........" I moaned. 

Slipping fingers through his hair, I gently pulled him close. 

I needed this so badly!

Still close to the edge, I couldn't hold out and with only a few pumps of his tender mouth I began filling it.

Long denied and emotionally charged, my prick unloaded powerfully. 

With ass cheeks clenching, I jabbed into him with each spurt...each convulsion of my balls. 

He was drinking it all ... or so I thought. 

Suddenly he was up and standing next to me I got the first true sense of how much taller he was. Dropping his lips onto mine, both our mouths opened wide and he let my cum slide down. 

With hands on the shoulders of his big frame, I was pushing my mouth up towards his and accepting the creamy treat. His tongue guided mine as it swirled and slapped the cum between us. 

My hands slid around his neck and I held his mouth and kissed him wetly, deeply long after we'd swallowed our share.

This was my first passionate kiss of another man and I was liking everything about it....not wanting it to end. 

So we sucked face for quite awhile. Playfully flicking and sucking tongue. So pleasing...so natural. 

Finally he stepped back, whispered something in Italian and unzipped his pants again. His rod slipped out as quickly as before only this time I was down on my knees, sucking on it.

I filled my mouth with him. 

Holding and pumping his shaft, my tongue whipped around the dick head.

My first cock and I was sucking it like an Old Pro!

I could hear him talking to me but couldn't understand a word. His hard prick was doing all the talking and its throbbing stiffness was saying that soon I'd be tasting some foreign cum...and it wasn't lying. 

He couldn't hold out either and soon his load was splashing between my cheeks. 

I wasn't sharing. 

Like all the pictures I'd taken ... I wanted to take this home to remember by ... so I did.

///////////////////

After I'd polished him off and put him back together all nice and neat, the two of us returned to our car. Sitting together this time, we rubbed legs and chatted like old buddies. 

Although unable to understand what one was saying to the other ... we felt a bond ... and it was floating in our stomachs. 

I never got a photograph of "the hole" ... but I'll always remember it. 



The Hole



Andrew Carson was a small time crook and an arsehole. The day he found out uncle Harry had died and left him a fortune he walked out on his wife without a word. 

He had never been close to Harry and was surprised at the inheritance. The lawyer handling the estate told Andrew that he was Harry's only remaining relative and that Harry had left the house to him. He handed Andrew a letter from Harry and the keys to the house. 

"This still has to go through probate," he said, "but it's straight forward and there is no reason why you cannot use the house right now. Besides, Harry specifically asked me to give you the keys and the letter immediately after his death."

Harry's letter told him there were two hundred thousand dollars hidden in the house and how to retrieve it.

Andrew did not want to share his new found wealth with his wife. She wasn't really his wife, just a cheap junkie whore he lived with. She worked the sleazier establishments in town. They lived in cheap flop houses, moving whenever they got too far behind with the rent. He had been living off her earnings for the last three years and if she found out about the inheritance she was sure to demand her share and take off with it. She would get it too. She knew enough heavies that would give Andrew hell until he paid up. He told her nothing about it.

The house was a simple two bedroom brick dwelling with an attached garage set on a quarter acre block in a working class suburb. Virtually all the neighbours were Asians who kept to themselves and left their houses only to go to work or to go shopping. This suited Andrew nicely.

After about three days in the house Andrew's kitchen tidy was full and he was looking for the garbage bins to empty the bag into. There were no garbage bins anywhere on the property. While looking for the bins at the back of the garage, Andrew discovered a trap door in the floor. 

When he lifted it all he could see was a perfectly circular hole of about three feet in diameter in the garage floor. It seemed to go deep. Andrew was puzzled. He went outside and came back with a brick, which he threw down the hole. He could not hear a report from the brick. The hole had to be very deep. He tossed his garbage after the brick and closed the trap door.

Intrigued about this he went to a boating shop and bought a packet of hand held flares that burned for 30 seconds. Back home he lit a flare and tossed it down the hole. It was still falling when it burned out. This meant the hole was well over one kilometre deep. 

I could hide a multitude of sins in there, he thought. 

It must have been an old ventilation shaft for a mine, Andrew reasoned, old Harry had found it and rather than covering it with concrete decided to keep it as a garbage chute.

Andrew salivated at the thought of the possibilities. Here was the solution to his problem. He called his wife and apologised for his four day absence knowing she would not find this unusual; he had done it before. He told her he had made a good score. 

"I've got enough money to last us for a while," he said. "Meet me in Dixon Street Mall in Chinatown and I tell you all about it over a drink.

After some complaining she agreed to meet him.

When they met he told her about the inheritance, showed her some papers. and apologised for his abrupt departure.

"I didn't want to tell you about it until it was all settled," he explained. "Until the last minute I still had doubts that it was real. Come with me, I want to show you our new home."

They walked two blocks to the new car with the tinted windows he had bought with Harry's money. She was so impressed that she did not find it odd that Andrew opened the door for her, something he had never done before. 

When he arrived home, he drove straight into the garage, pushed the button of the remote that closed the garage door, and hit his wife on the head with a hammer he had within reach before she could unbuckle her seat belt. There was little blood. Andrew dragged his unconscious wife out of the car.

He took her cash and credit cards and threw her down the shaft before she regained consciousness. He threw the hammer after her.

To his surprise the act of killing his wife excited him sexually. For the first time in years his dick was as rigid as a baseball bat. He unzipped his fly and masturbated. The thought of his semen dropping down the hole and landing on his wife's smashed up body got him undone. A massive orgasm shook his body as rope after rope of the teeming fluid shot down the hole. At that moment Andrew realised he had never had a proper orgasm before. For the first time in his life he felt complete. 

He had found his calling. He was liberated. He was God!

Andrew masturbated twice more that day. While the sensations were still good, they were nothing like the first time. The next day he felt even less, and on the third day he was again trying to squeeze a few drops of come from a semi rigid dick; like he had done all his life. He needed a new victim.

In spite of his many character flaws Andrew was not stupid. In fact he could be quite methodical and meticulous when the situation demanded it and when something caught his interest. If he was going to be a serial killer he would need to study the craft.

He did his research in the various internet cafes around town, never going to the same place twice. He was not interested in what the various killers did to their victims, all he wanted to know was how they got caught. He quickly found a pattern. 

The first group, and by far the largest, were caught because there was a trail of bodies that eventually connected up to them. The trail of bodies was established by similarities in the method of killing, patterns of mutilations, evidence of fetishism, leaving evidence that pointed to the killer, and so forth, as well as other peculiarities such as victims being gay, prostitutes or children. Andrew's hole meant he wouldn't be leaving a trail of bodies. 

Another group was caught trying to dispose of, or being in possession of, goods belonging to the victims. But here police had to know, or suspect, there was a victim.

The third group of killers were caught because they bragged about their deeds, they took photographs as souvenirs, or they kept detailed diaries of their crimes. Someone inevitably turned them in. 

Well, Andrew was quite sure he would not make these same mistakes! In fact, the whole endeavour seemed fairly safe as long as he stuck to a few simple guidelines.

He resolved to pick his victims at random and never from the same place twice, and only to take cash and credit cards, disposing of jewellery or any other property with the body.

The credit cards he would take to a group of Chinese he had done shady deals with before. They took the details of the cards and destroyed them immediately. The information would be sent to China, where duplicate cards were made within an hour and the accounts stripped. Depending on how much the cards yielded they paid you a percentage a day or two later. There was no way of checking if they were honest with you, but the system worked and there was little chance of getting caught.

Having done his homework, Andrew set about finding victim number two. He purchased a ball-peen hammer and put it in his car, within easy reach.

*** 

Andrew had found out a long time ago that is was much easier to work a scam if you were well dressed. He chose a conservative dark grey pin stripe suit, a white shirt, a discrete maroon tie, grey socks and black lace-up shoes polished to perfection.

He made his way to an upmarket gay bar in the city. He was known there but he was not worried. As usual, the place was dimly lit and because it was early in the evening it was just starting to get crowded. Arthur had an eye for a mark and there was a perfect one sitting alone at a small table in one of the alcoves. The guy had rich, coke snorting, Yank poofter written all over him. 

Andrew bought a drink at the bar, ambled over to the alcove and asked: "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," said the man. "My name is Peter."

Andrew introduced himself and sat down.

"New to this town?" he asked.

"Yeah, first time in Sydney. Just arrived from Singapore. Too many heavy meetings. I'm exhausted. I need to relax a little for a day or two and then it's back to the grindstone again."

Perfect, thought Andrew. A few drinks later they were quite chummy. Peter was coming on to Andrew and Andrew let him think he was interested.

"Where can a man get some good coke around here?"

"I wouldn't touch the crap they peddle here," said Andrew. "I've got some decent shit at home, if you are interested."

"Very much so," said Peter.

"Tell you what we'll do. I've got my car parked quite a distance from here. I'll go and get the car. You relax and finish your drink and in about ten minutes go outside, turn left and walk about twenty yards. You'll find a loading zone there, where I can pick you up without getting booked."

"Sounds perfect Andrew. See you then."

Andrew gulped down the rest of his drink and got up. Just in case anyone was watching, he waved to Peter as he made for the door.

Sure enough, the mug was waiting when Andrew turned up ten minutes later. 

"Gotcha!" he mumbled.

On the way to Andrew's place Peter was bragging about how much money he was making selling real estate. As before Andrew drove into his garage closing the automatic door behind them after they had come to a stop. He picked up his hammer as he opened his door and climbed out of the car. Peter was fiddling with the door. It wouldn't open. Andrew had jinxed it.

"Hang on a sec that blasted thing sticks sometimes. I have to open it from the outside." 

Andrew went over to the passenger side, keeping his hammer out of sight, and opened the door. As soon as Peter stuck his head out Andrew hit him on the skull. Peter went down in a heap.

After relieving the unconscious man of cash and credit cards he threw him down the hole. The murder weapon went after him.

Seconds later he was masturbating. The orgasm, if anything, was better than the first one. Again, after imagining his semen hitting the smashed up body, he shot rope after rope of the viscous liquid down the hole 

This time the murder had netted him a tidy amount. There was about five grand in cash, as well as several platinum cards. He would get good money for them from his Chinese friends.

Andrew was ecstatic. He was proud of himself. With a tally of two murders he would only need one more before he became officially a serial killer. There would be many more, he promised himself. 

And so it went. Over the next five years Andrew killed over five hundred people, making him the most prolific serial killer in history. No one suspected a serial killer was on the loose. There were a lot of missing persons, but in any big city there always are. Andrew's cupboards were bulging with cash. He had no friends and no one had ever been to his house except to get killed.

Housewives, teachers, students, doctors, nurses, business people, all joined the ever growing pile at the bottom of his pit as well as the rubbish from his house. He unceremoniously dumped the bodies, just as he dumped the rubbish from his house. Rubbish to rubbish he said with a smile when he emptied his household garbage down the hole. 

***

It was Sunday morning. Andrew was feeling good; he had killed only last night and his pecker was still lively. He was trying to decide if he should make himself some coffee or to have a wank first when the doorbell rang. Probably some pesky salesman, he thought, as he went to the door to give whoever it was a piece of his mind. To his surprise it was the lawyer who had handled his inheritance. Without thinking he bade the man to come in. Once inside the house the lawyer pulled a Taser from his pocket and shot Andrew in the chest. The electroshock deprived Andrew of the voluntary use of his muscles and when he had regained his composure he found himself bound hand and foot on the floor of his living room.

"What the fuck are you doing," he yelled at the lawyer who was going though the cupboards looking at all the cash stashed there.

"Very nice. You have been busy."

"Will you fucking let me go you arsehole. I haven't done anything to you, why pick on me?"

"Oh but you have Mister Carson. You have very much done something to me and I am here to square the bill."

"You've got the wrong man. Let me go."

"Remember a young man, early twenties, blond hair, blue eyes and ever such a beautiful body, dressed in black leather? I take it you two met about four weeks ago. On a Tuesday, if I remember correctly. He climbed into your car. What did you promise him? Some cocaine perhaps?"

Andrew remembered the fellow well enough. One of his victims. But how could this lawyer know? How could he prove anything?

"Might have given someone like that a lift, can't say for sure," he said.

"I know you kill people."

"Are you nuts? I am no killer."

"Oh yes you are. Only last night you hit a middle aged woman in a black dress on the head with a hammer and threw her body down the hole in your garage floor. You wanked yourself off afterwards."

Andrew knew he had been caught. All he could stammer was: "How?" 

"When Sean didn't come home that night I knew something had happened to him. I had seen him get into your car so you were my natural suspect. I took time off work and started watching you, stalking you might be a better word.

"You were so sure of yourself, you never noticed you were followed. Last night I caught you in the act. Your garage is not as private as you think. There are quite a few cracks through which you can observe what is happening inside. It happened too quickly for me to be able to help that poor woman. I went home, stole a Taser from a policeman I know, and here I am; face to face with the man who murdered the love of my life." 

"You won't be able to prove anything. It will be your word against mine."

"There will be bodies at the bottom of this hole, the police will find them."

Andrew laughed. "The police will find nothing. You are not as smart as you think Mister Lawyer. Go, call the police if you want to make a fool of yourself. Either call the cops or let me go."

"Tell me, Why will the police find nothing at the bottom of this hole?"

"Get fucked."

"Brave words from a man who is tied up and at my mercy, Mister Carson. I would urge you to be somewhat more co-operative. Perhaps this might convince you." 

With this the lawyer pushed the Taser into Andrew's testicles and pulled the trigger. The pain was so excruciating Andrew could not even scream. He waited until Andrew had calmed down somewhat and did it again. After the third time there was no more fight left in Andrew. His body was shaking uncontrollably and he was babbling nonsense.

The Lawyer left him lying there and looked around the house. He found a door that led into the garage and had a quick look around. He saw the trap door and lifted it. There was the hole. He still had the small torch he had used the night before. Shining the light down the hole revealed nothing. On impulse the lawyer tossed the torch down the hole and watched as the light became smaller and smaller until it eventually disappeared. He knew now what he had to do. Moving quickly before he could change his mind he went back into the house, grabbed the still shaking Andrew, dragged him into the garage and threw him down the hole.

Sean was avenged. The house, the money, the car, would be small compensation for the loss of his love, but it was something.

***

Andrew came out of his stupor as he was falling. He knew he would die as soon as he hit bottom. The fall lasted a very long time, hours perhaps. Time had no meaning here. When he landed on a mountain of garbage, it was painful, but not unduly so. With difficulty he managed to extricate himself from the trash with his hands and feet still bound. Amazed he was still alive he tried to orient himself. The garbage heap he was sitting on was inside a huge cave. The walls of the cave gave off an eerie green light, not very bright, but enough to see. As he was sliding and rolling down the pile of rubbish to get to the floor of the cave he noticed groups of people moving towards him. They were still too far away to make out details in the dim light, but they were definitely people. The first group reached him just as he arrived on the cave floor. He could see some faces now, they looked vaguely familiar. One woman stepped out of the crowd and looked at him. Andrew's bladder gave way when he recognised his wife.

Grinning from ear to ear, she said: "Lookie here people, see who has come to visit."

Suddenly Andrew knew it was going to be a very long eternity.



The Hole



Vicky Carlyle looked at the old Victorian style house as her husband carried some of their bags to the door. She couldn't believe it; they were actually moving... it had taken them three years to finally make the plunge from the busy city life to the middle of nowhere – because let's face it: that's exactly where they were. From the first moment she had laid eyes on it, Vicky had been in love with the house; the three story residence was everything she and Dave – her husband – had been looking for: peacefully isolated with lots of direct and indirect lighting – perfect for her painting and sculpturing – and lots of room for a couple of kids, maybe even a dog one day. Dave had joked on several occasions that the house reminded him of one of those houses they used in so many horror – and paranormal movies – and truth be told, it did look kind of eerie with the white wooden exterior and darkened oval-shaped windows. Off course the constant squeaking sounds from the hard wood floors didn't help matters along in that area, but Vicky considered herself a modern woman with no irrational fears and had vowed not to be scared in her new home. That vow was going to be put to the test quite thoroughly as Vicky was going to spend a lot of time in the house by herself, because Dave was going to be working full time at the local lumber mill. But that was all right with Vicky as she was actually looking forward to spending some time alone, cleaning up the place, decorating and furnishing it to her heart's content. Her husband was more of a practical, macho man and didn't care about the interior design, the color the walls were painted in or which type of fabric the drapes were made of.

Dave turned to look at Vicky and asked:"You okay love?"

"Perfect. I can't believe we finally did it!" she said as she walked up to the house, hugged her husband and delicately placed her head on his strong masculine shoulder, enjoying the feel of his body and his typical male scent. She closed her eyes and purred as he hugged her back and ran a hand through her brown weaving hair. A minute or so later, the moving truck arrived. The rest of the day was filled with unpacking, deciding which room to use for what and cleaning up the main living areas. Exhausted, Dave and Vicky were in bed by 10:15 and fast asleep by 10:20.

Come morning, Vicky couldn't believe how peacefully and relaxing she'd slept. It had been years since she had had such a restful night; maybe it was the complete silence in and around the house or the change of scenery; whatever it was, it had left Vicky energized and chirpy. So much even that she did something she hadn't done in a while: she pulled down Dave's pajama bottoms and swallowed his flaccid cock in one gulp. By the time Dave opened his eyes, his tool had already grown to such a size that Vicky could no longer fit it in her mouth. He couldn't believe the pure lust radiating from her as he looked into her eyes and smiled. He simply loved seeing his wife bob her head up and down his massive cock. Vicky looked up at him and felt the same way; she loved servicing his giant cock, which made her hands and even her mouth dwarf in comparison. For more than twenty minutes she sucked and jerked his cock for all she was worth; she knew he couldn't cum in that position and she loved to tease and please him endlessly. Finally, when he was nearly begging her to let him cum, she sat up, swung one leg over him and – using two fingers of her left hand to hold open her entrance – sat down on top of him, rocking back and forth, grinding her crotch onto his massive pole. He didn't last thirty seconds before his body started convulsing violently, pushing Vicky almost twenty centimeters up into the air, over and over again. She loved these powerful, intense orgasms of his; it always made her feel like she was riding a rodeo bull while getting deeply and wildly shafted. When his orgasm subsided, Vicky rolled off of him and looked at him, with a big smile on her face, whispering in a playful voice:"You okay there sweetie?"

Panting heavily, Dave replied:"That was amazing... god, you completely drained me!"

"Good." she said, hopping out of bed. "That was the whole idea!"

After an invigorating shower and a hearty breakfast, Dave gave his wife a big kiss goodbye and drove off to work; his first day at his new job. Vicky cleared the breakfast table and walked through the house, holding a cup of coffee, thoroughly enjoying her newfound peace and quiet. There couldn't have been a bigger difference between the busy, crammed apartment they had left behind and their new peaceful, spacious home. 

When she finished her cup of coffee, Vicky decided to get some work done; Dave had asked her to clear out the attic as they were planning it to use as storage. "Getting rid of the old junk, so we can store new junk!" Dave had so eloquently described it.

Except for a quick look around on their initial tour of the house, Vicky hadn't been up there at all, so she didn't quite know what to expect. The first thing that surprised her was how much light there was up there; she had expected it to be a lot darker and spookier, but the four circular skylights on each side of the pyramid shaped roof provided the attic with an abundance of light – at least during the day. Nearly the entire space was filled with old furniture, paintings and boxes, most of them covered in old dusty sheets. Full of resolve, Vicky started labeling what she wanted to keep, which seemed to be taking forever.

Because the attic was three stories up from the kitchen and Vicky wasn't a big fan of climbing stairs, she had packed some lunch. Around noon, she sat down on a wooden crate, leaning her back against a brick support wall, in the middle of the attic. While she was eating her lunch, she suddenly felt an ever so light breeze in her hair. When she turned around to look at the wall, she saw a tiny little crack in between two bricks and figured this was the source of the draft, which was strange considering it was a freestanding wall – connected only to the roof and the floor. Moving her hand around different parts of the wall, Vicky was unable to feel any kind of breeze. Confused and figuring she'd imagined it, she sat back down and poured herself a cup of coffee from her thermos. At that moment her cell phone rang; it was David, checking in during his lunch hour. He told her about his day so far and she told him about the progress she was making with the attic.

At the end of the phone call, Dave started getting frisky and asked her what she was wearing.

"A white halter top and cut-off jeans." she replied.

"And underneath?" he asked.

"All white." she replied, truthfully.

"Maybe I'll come home and rip the whole outfit off of you." he said, getting all worked up.

"Save it for the bedroom, hot stuff." she said, fighting a smile.

They agreed to save their lust until later that night and said their goodbyes. Vicky finished her coffee, doing her best not to think of Dave's words as she got up and turned around to pick up her thermos. As she glanced at the wall, she couldn't help but notice that the tiny crack from before was significantly larger than she remembered. The hole could now easily fit a marble... confused, she pressed her hands against the wall and pressed hard, testing the structural integrity of the wall. When it didn't budge, she ran her fingers over the hole, gently tracing the outside, trying to figure out why it was larger than before. Unable to find an answer to the multiple questions racing through her mind, she stepped back and looked at it one final time, thinking she would ask Dave to have a look at it. Immediately her mind wandered back to Dave's promise to rip the clothes off of her the first chance he got!

Suddenly, without warning, an enormously powerful, invisible force – originating from the hole – started tearing at Vicky's white halter top until it ripped in several places simultaneously, and sucked the shreds of fabric off of her body, into the hole. Startled and alarmed, Vicky screamed as she backed away from the hole several meters. Her first instinct was to run and get the hell out of there, but thinking of her promise to herself not get scared, she told herself that this was probably easily explained. As she no longer felt a force tugging at her, she calmly approached the wall again; when she glanced behind the wall and didn't see her top – or what would be left of it – she started getting alarmed again. She searched the entire attic, but her top, or its remains, were nowhere to be found. Eventually she decided to try and retrace her steps. A bit apprehensive, she stepped in front of the wall again and looked at the hole, squinting her eyes – anticipating some sort of reaction... but none came. Then she asked herself what else she was doing at the time of the incident and as soon as she thought of Dave ripping the clothes off of her, the force reappeared – this time directed at her jeans cut-offs. Although her body itself hardly felt any pressure or influence, Vicky could hear the fabric tearing and ripping under the no doubt enormous suction it had to endure. Seeing no danger to herself – aside from losing another piece of clothing – she tried to calm down and told herself not to run or scream, unless there was a clear threat. Although the jeans fabric was considerable more durable than the material her top was made of, in the end, her cut-offs had no other choice but to rip at nearly every seam simultaneously.

The resulting shreds of clothing were sucked into the wall through the hole, leaving Vicky in nothing more than her panties and bra. To her own surprise, Vicky found the phenomenon more arousing and exhilarating than frightening. After taking another peek behind the wall – and finding nothing – the mystery only grew, along with Vicky's fascination. Realizing she was alone in the house – and probably for miles around – Vicky felt a sexy shiver running through her body as she stepped closer towards the wall again, thinking to herself:"In for a penny, in for a pound..."

As she looked straight at the hole and forcibly thought about clothes being ripped off her, her flimsy panties were drawn into the hole in barely two seconds. Naked, aside from her bra, Vicky grew hornier with each passing second and as she kept thinking about ripping and tearing, she felt her bra beginning to stretch. The anticipation of being naked in front of this exciting phenomenon made her so horny that she actually started touching her crotch – finding her slit and probing it. Just five seconds later, her bra gave way and flew straight into the hole. Vicky moaned and immediately crammed two fingers up her twat, dropping to her knees and furiously fingering herself as even her most skeptical and cautious side had to admit that she was being sexually manipulated by an invisible force, manifesting itself through the mysterious hole in the wall!

Naked and on her knees, Vicky frantically masturbated as seldom feelings of lust and desire swept through her body, causing her to finish with a spectacular orgasm barely three minutes later. Fully aware that no one could see or hear her, Vicky screamed at the top of her lunges and ended up on her back, her legs spread high up in the air and her fingers digging down energetically, prolonging and intensifying her mighty orgasm.

Fueled by pure lust, Vicky kept going until she was too tired to keep her legs up in the air and her fingers inside of her. Drenched with her own juices, sweat and covered in dust, she drifted off to sleep, feeling strangely at easy and comfortable. When she woke up about two hours later, she smiled when she noticed the hole was gone. The fact that her clothes were still nowhere to be found proved that she wasn't going insane. 

After taking a long, hot, relaxing shower, Vicky spent the rest of the day absent-mindedly tending to the garden as her brain was trying to comprehend – and explain – what had happened in the attic: she wondered what was up there: a ghost or spirit of some sort, a miniature black hole, a magical portal...

She didn't know and frankly – after the spectacular orgasm it had given her – she really didn't care; if she loved the house before, she absolutely adored it now!

When Dave came home from work, he gave her a peck on the cheek and asked her how the rest of her day had been; Vicky gave him a pretty detailed report – except for the whole being naked and masturbating incident, off course. While Dave unwound from a hard day's work on the front porch, Vicky made dinner. After a few glasses of red wine and a romantic candle light dinner on their new patio, the happy couple continued their amorous evening in the bedroom, where they made love for the longest time before falling asleep in each other's arms. Life was good indeed!

The following morning, when Dave asked her what she would be doing today, Vicky fought a smile and stated that the attic still needed a lot of attention. As soon as he had left for work, Vicky climbed the stairs to the attic and paused nervously for a second, before stepping onto the wooden floor and walking towards the wall. Dressed in another white halter top and some kaki shorts, white socks and white sneakers, she stepped in front of the wall and looked at the hole, which had reappeared and seemed somewhat larger than yesterday. It was perfectly spherical and approximately three centimeters in diameter. No matter from which angle she looked at – or in – it, she couldn't see anything other than complete blackness. Curious, she knelt down in front of it and peered through it with one eye, as if it was a keyhole. Again nothing but pure blackness...

With no other option left, she gently traced the contours of the hole with her fingers, checking to see if they were sharp or not; they were actually quite soft and pleasant. As she suddenly felt a tingling sensation on her inner thigh she jumped up, worried that some sort of bug had crawled up on her. After verifying that that wasn't the case, she knelt down again and gently touched the outline of the hole again; when the tingling sensation reappeared, Vicky connected the dots. Telling herself she needed to be sure, she cautiously put a finger into the hole and smiled as she felt what seemed like a finger gracing her clit and entering her, although she was still fully dressed. She quickly put a second finger in the hole and laughed out loud as she felt a second one enter her too. "How are you doing this?" she asked, as her fingers starting roaming around in the hole, venturing farther and farther. Pretty soon her fingers were two knuckles deep in the hole – not to mention her own hole; almost as deep as the brick wall and still Vicky couldn't detect any edge or boundary to the phenomenon.

Exploring quickly became secondary as she felt her panties getting soaked from her fluids; she pulled her fingers out, got up and took off her kaki shorts and her panties, kneeled down again and whispered:"OK, let's see what you've got!" As she reinserted her two fingers, the hole immediately decreased its radius until it was approximately the same size as her Vicky's twat. As even the smallest of movements now caused a spasm in her pussy, Vicky put her free hand against the wall for support and closed her eyes as she kept fingering frantically, faster and faster, panting:"God... oh my god!"

Then, suddenly, Vicky got a nasty idea and whispered:"If it works for fingers..."

Anxious to test her new theory, she redrew her wet fingers and softly put her mouth at the entrance of the hole, giving it a gentle, cautious lick. After feeling the reciprocal lick between her legs, she smiled widely and immediately shoved her tongue down the hole – and her own twat. In the heat of the moment, she forgot – or either didn't care – that she already had her own tongue up there and inserted two fingers into her pussy; when Vicky tasted her own fingers and realized that she was violating several laws of physics by fingering and eating out herself out at the same time, a violent orgasm exploded deep within her.

While her tongue and fingers kept working, the rest of her body rocked and trembled, shuddering in a mind-blowing orgasm. Several minutes later, out of breath and unable to take any more stimulation without fainting, Vicky finally let up and collapsed on the floor. To her surprise, she was still feeling frisky and so, while she was catching her breath, she started looking at the hole and thought about her halter top and bra getting ripped off. As she had hoped, the hole reacted almost instantaneously by violently tugging at her top until it ripped at the seams and disappeared into the hole; a few seconds later, the same thing happened to her bra. 

Eager to put her newfound toy further to the test, she started thinking about Dave's cock, fully erect and vibrating up and down out of hardness. Half expecting a brick cock to materialize in front of her, Vicky was somewhat surprised to see the hole simply expanding its radius to about 15 centimeters. After staring at it for a few seconds, wondering what was expected of her, Vicky carefully – vividly remembering what happened the last time she stuck a finger in there – traced the outline of the hole; when she didn't feel anything between her legs, she decided it was safe and gently stuck her hand into the hole. Pretty soon, her whole hand – up to her wrist – was inside of the hole, which was a blatant violation of the wall's spatial dimensions. Suddenly her hand bumped into something... immediately Vicky realized what it was – hard as a bone, yet soft to the touch – and nonchalantly wrapped her fingers around it. As she started jerking off the otherworldly cock, she smiled at the hole's resourcefulness, wandering what else it could do. At that moment another hole opened up about a meter away from the first one; appearing at the same height and having the same dimensions, it didn't take a genius to figure out where the phenomenon was going with this...

Without slowing down the wanking with her right hand, she moved her left hand to the new hole and gently reached inside, already having a pretty good idea of what to expect. Seconds later she had her left hand wrapped around an equally big and hard cock. Vicky jerked and jerked through the mysterious holes, getting it all out of her system; she felt so naughty – almost slutty – although there was no physical cheating going on, nor would any sane person call this cheating. And yet, she felt like a slut: jerking two big cocks at the same time; something she'd never done before. As many minutes passed, Vicky's arms grew tired till the point where she could hardly keep them up anymore. Desperate for a break, she cautiously – not sure how the phenomenon was going to react – let go of the big shafts and redrew her hands. As she sat down on a nearby wooden crate and let her arms hang limply by her sides for a while, she saw both holes disappear before her very eyes, leaving behind a dull, brick wall.

Vicky was not extraordinarily vain or arrogant, but she knew she gave a mean handjob – and blowjob for that matter. That wasn't just Dave talking but also the many boyfriends she'd pleased before him. And yet, the cocks inside the wall seemed immune to her ministrations, which was kind of an insult to her. As she let her arms rest, she continued her analysis of the hole: it seemed to be there for her, adapting itself to her needs and desires, but apparently not needing any pleasure in return. Maybe the entity or ghost drew pleasure from pleasuring humans; maybe the only reason she felt those two cocks was because she wanted to feel them. In order not to be drawn into a metaphysical debate with herself, Vicky focused on another possibility: maybe the cocks didn't cum because she had made no such request. As this theory was the most appealing one of the bunch and the easiest to disprove, she decided to put it to the test. Sufficiently rested, she kneeled in front of the wall again and started thinking about the two cocks she had had in her hands just a few minutes ago. Instantly, the holes reappeared at the appropriate height.




The Hole



Vicky grinned and put her hands down the holes again, wrapping her eager hands around the two hard shafts and started jerking them. For about three minutes, she gave both cocks such a wank that no mortal man would be able to hold back his cum, her hands flying up and down the shaft – acting like a pornstar working for her money shot. Unfortunately, aside for the occasional random twitch, nothing happened!

As her arms grew tired again, Vicky started projecting thoughts of ejaculation towards the hole – thinking of the last few times she'd seen Dave spurt; just a few seconds later, both cocks began spewing thick, gooey cum all over her hands, wrists and underarms. Her hypothesis had been confirmed: the hole had simply given her what she wanted, when she wanted it!

Curious, she redrew her arms and looked at the cum on her skin; she ran her fingers through it and played with the creamy substance for a few seconds, telling herself she was just testing it for texture and viscosity. Playing with it actually eased her mind a little bit: even if she had imagined everything up until now, the cum on her skin sure seemed real enough. In fact, the feeling of warm, gooey sperm on her skin was making her rather horny. She went downstairs and walked into the master bedroom; after rummaging through her underwear drawer for a second, she found what she was looking for: a large, skin-colored dildo Dave had bought her as a joke several years ago. After hesitating for just a second – she had never actually used it – she walked back up the stairs, dildo in hand. She covered the floor in front of the wall with an old blanket, sat down on it – her legs stretched out towards the wall, not quite touching it – and leaned back on her left hand, as she used her right one to push the dildo into her sopping wet pussy.

Although she knew that the phenomenon didn't need any visual stimulation, it was clearly able to perceive its surroundings and it just felt so wickedly bad to masturbate in front of it. Reacting to Vicky's lewd behavior, the hole suddenly reappeared; rather small in size this time and completely inactive, it did nothing more than just be there. Which is exactly what Vicky wanted: she just wanted to be watched... nothing more, nothing less. Peaceful and completely stress-free, she used the plastic lover on herself for over twenty minutes; pleasuring herself longer than she or any man had ever done before – all the time enjoying the fact that she was being observed by her invisible, non-corporeal friend.

After several spectacular orgasms and after having completely drenched the blanket with her copious fluids, she lay down on the floor and drifted off to sleep, taking one of the most invigorating naps of her life. When she woke up, nearly two hours later, she put the blanket in the washing machine – as she didn't want the smell of sex to take over the entire attic – and took a long hot shower. To keep things interesting, she wore nothing but white socks and sneakers after coming out of the shower – walking around the house nearly butt naked, as she performed the most tedious of household chores with a naughty smile on her face.

As Dave was bound to go up to the attic one of these days to check on her progress, Vicky realized she still had a lot of work to do and so, in the early afternoon, she returned to the scene of the crime – still wearing nothing but white socks and sneakers. Ignoring the wall as much as possible, she managed to clear out a large section of the attic, sorting through everything and carrying boxes full of worthless crap downstairs. At some point however, unavoidably, Vicky's mind began to wander off and for some reason, her mind specifically recalled a request from Dave – made just prior before moving – to let him spurt in her face again. It was one of his all-time favorites: jerking off and aiming his cock at her face, making his cock spew its gooey, disgusting load all over her face, drenching her like a common slut. Although Vicky – like most women – wasn't a big fan of facials, she allowed Dave to give her one every once in a while, usually on special occasions, to keep him satisfied.

All of sudden, in the corner of her eye, she noticed movement and instinctively turned her head. Too late, Vicky realized that it was the hole materializing right in front of her face: before she had any more time to think, a long jet of warm, thick, gooey cum came soaring out of the hole and splattered against her face.

"What the fuck?" Vicky screamed, shocked and annoyed as she backed away from the hole; her hands quickly scooping the fresh cum off her face. Immediately, the spurts of cum ceased and the hole began to shrink.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? That's disgus..." she continued to rant, but stopped mid-sentence as she'd gotten over the initial shock and realized that the hole had simply reacted to her daydreaming. After giving the incident a little more thought, Vicky felt her pussy tingle and realized that she was actually quite aroused; feeling bad about her harsh reaction and with her lust slowly taking over, she began to contemplate the unthinkable as her hands impulsively started caressing the area around the hole. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted it... eventually, after abandoning all sense of propriety, she leaned in closer and whispered:"Do it! I won't back away this time!"

The hole quickly grew back to its previous size and a small trickle of cum came out, covering only half of the distance between the wall and her face – a sort of gentle warning of what was to come. Vicky smiled and whispered – while her body shuddered with pure lust:"It's okay... give it to me!" Immediately after saying that, she was treated to a huge blast to her face, and another one, and another one; covering her cheeks, her nose, her chin, her lips, her forehead, her eyes... thick gooey ribbons kept splattering against her skin, completely drenching her face.

"Yes, that's it... let it all out!" Vicky exclaimed enthusiastically, getting some in her mouth as she opened it to speak. She couldn't believe how much she loved this and jammed two fingers up her twat, leaning forward as she opened her mouth to catch and swallow as much of the inhuman spunk as possible. Outrageously horny by now and her face covered in a thick cum haze, she quickly grabbed a nearby sheet, cleaned all the spunk off her skin with it and dropped it on the floor, presenting her – relatively – clean face to the hole again, moaning:"Come on, again... more!"

As her fingers frantically massaged her insides, the hole hurled one juicy rope after another against her delicate, gorgeous face, covering her for a second time. Her body squirmed and shivered, until finally her legs gave way and Vicky sank to her knees. Although the hole remained stationary, the jets of cum that exploded from it immediately began following a different – more downwards – trajectory to avoid missing their more than willing target. The thrill of feeling the relentless flow of cum raining down on her naked body, gave Vicky the extra boost required to reach orgasm. Bucking and shuddering, screaming at the top of her lungs – even opening her mouth in the heat of the moment to gulp down some more hot, juicy cum – Vicky came like never before. It wasn't until her orgasm had reached its peak that the flood of cum finally began to let up and slowly died out along with her climax. Enjoying the aftermath of this nasty cum-session, Vicky remained on her knees, slowly letting her fingers slip from her pussy, her chest heaving intensely as she glanced at the wall and noticed that the hole had already completely disappeared.

Utterly satisfied, Vicky rose to her feet and stumbled towards the bathroom, where she took yet another long, hot shower and caught herself several times instinctively reaching between her legs, as she thought back to what she had just submitted herself to. Even when she came out of the shower, Vicky forced herself to put on some clothing as quickly as possible in order not to be tempted to start touching herself again.

Keeping herself occupied with dinner, the laundry and other daily tasks, Vicky tried her best not to think too much about her mysterious, non-corporeal lover and especially how their relationship was going to evolve. Due to the spectacular nature of the phenomenon and recent events, that attempt was doomed to fail and so before long, it was pretty much all she could think about. Eventually, she decided that masturbation, handjobs and facials were not going to satisfy her any longer, no matter how good the ensuing orgasms were. It was time to take this unique, extraordinary relationship to the next level; she would see to that, starting tomorrow!



Although Vicky was primed and sending out all the right signals, Dave apparently didn't pick up on them or was too tired to act on them, because except for a peck on the cheek and a big hug when he walked in, he barely touched her all night. The following morning Dave was in a hurry to get to work and didn't take care of his wife either, oblivious to the fact that she was so horny that she would have done virtually anything he asked. Instead, he left her in a highly aroused and impatient state, ready to give herself to her newfound lover... 

She didn't even bother with putting on any clothes; still in her bathrobe and wearing nothing but a flimsy nighty under that, she walked up the stairs to the attic. Pacing in front of the wall, trying to make up her mind, she was getting hornier by the minute. What did she want? Clearly, her brain was not used to generating sexual fantasies – Vicky habitually just followed Dave's lead in that department – as every thought she projected at the hole was too incoherent, too vague or too unspecified to be interpreted.

"Specifics." she thought to herself. "Dumb it down: what do I want, specifically?"

"Let's start with a blowjob..." she figured.

She turned towards the brick wall, took off her bathrobe and said, with a strong confident voice:"I want a big cock in my mouth and I want it to fill me up and make me choke, over and over again... and then, when I finally can't take any more, I want it to shoot a big, fat load in my mouth and all over my face. Is that clear enough for you?"

Instantaneously, the hole appeared at hip-level and steadily grew in diameter; Vicky kneeled down in front of it, getting ready for what was to come. To her surprise, the hole took the exact shape of her face and then just seemed to wait... confident, but still careful, Vicky put her face in the outline and took a deep breath, not sure if she was going to be able to breath in there. When her head was in, Vicky curiously opened her eyes, but aside from absolute darkness there was nothing to observe. Suddenly she felt the tip of what was, without a doubt, the biggest cock she had ever come across, bumping against her chin. She closed her eyes – as they didn't do her any good in there anyway – and tried to inhale through her nose; to her relief, breathing was not a problem, so she lowered her head a tiny fraction and gulped the big cock down. It was huge: Vicky estimated that it was five centimeters in circumference and she didn't even dare to guess as to the length of the thing. Feeling wickedly bad, she started sliding her lips over the shaft, more and more until her mouth could take no more, yet she still couldn't feel the base of it. When she was about to slide her mouth back down again, she suddenly realized she couldn't move her head... an invisible force was holding it in place; as she was still able to breath comfortably, Vicky didn't immediately panic. Then, slowly, the massive tip started blocking her throat; although she wasn't sure whether the cock was either moving or growing bigger, the net result was the same: in a few moments it was going to choke her. Vicky tried to fight her gag-reflex, but couldn't.

Suddenly the enormous cock retreated, only to thrust down again several moment later, slightly more aggressive and a tad deeper this time. After making her gag a second time, the cock redrew from Vicky's mouth and as her head was released, she impulsively backed away from the hole, still slightly gasping for air. Having given her a preview of what was to come, the phenomenon seemed to be offering her a chance to reconsider her earlier, lewd request; a respectful but unnecessary gesture.

Vicky was too horny to change her mind now and as she swiftly put her head back into the hole, she opened her mouth, impatiently waiting for the big cock to resume its vulgar assault again. As the hold on her head was restored, she found herself – again – at the mercy of the phenomenon... and she liked it!

Savagely, the huge cock fucked her mouth for about a minute, deliberately stretching her cheeks outwards – this made her feel like a slut, a feeling she desperately craved! Then, she felt the cock being pushed deeper and deeper, gagging her again. This time, there was nothing soft or careful about it; it was rough and unkind, just like she craved it: she coughed, gagged and gasped for air. As she felt the tip of the cock bump against the back of her throat several times, it brought tears to her eyes from fighting the repeated gag-reflex. Expecting to get another reprieve soon, Vicky endured the abuse for over a minute – her pussy was actually tingling by now – but the reprieve just didn't seem to come. Without mercy, her mouth and throat were getting fucked; gagging her over and over again. Just when she considered protesting for the first time, she felt a colossal blast of cum hitting her throat and filling up her mouth. At the same moment, the grip on her head was released and Vicky pulled away from the hole, coughing. As she spewed out the disgusting glob of cum, she received another five powerful blasts to the face and hairline. Degraded and drenched in thick sperm – exactly as she had requested – Vicky just sat there, scooping globs of cum off her face, thinking of how ridiculously horny she was and how much she craved a good fuck.

Deciding the time was right to take this unusual sexual relationship to the next level, she looked at the hole and whispered – between her clenched teeth and cum-covered lips:"Fuck me... fuck me like a whore!" Under her stare, the hole vanished and reappeared at the bottom of the wall in the form of two smaller holes, which quickly expanded to take the exact shape of her feet. Curious as how this was going to play out, Vicky quickly took off her nighty, got on her back and scooted down, bending her knees to put her feet against the brick wall, right next to the two holes. As soon as she put her feet in the openings, they started moving apart and up, spreading Vicky lewdly open. Next, a gentle force pulled her legs inside and as the holes grew larger, more and more of her disappeared into the wall; eventually the two holes combined to create one larger passage, which could easily encompass Vicky's pelvis. Soon, only half her torso was left outside of the wall. Although she was extremely horny and impatient, the fact that she couldn't see more than half of her body, made her panic just a little bit. That feeling quickly subsided when she felt a huge cock being shoved into her soaking wet pussy: it was big, thick and kind of crude – just thrusting all the way in, without any kind of warning or foreplay.

Although it felt kinda weird not to feel any legs, hands, arms or even balls down there while she was getting fucked, Vicky was completely at ease and enjoyed the torrid fucking she was getting. She screamed and moaned freely, without reservation, kneading her tits and running her hands through her hair and over her still cum-streaked face. All this buildup had left her body charged like a powerhouse and as the cock mercilessly pounded into her – penetrating her deeper than any man had done before – she realized that the orgasm that was surely coming, was probably going to blow her fuses. Not only did the mysterious cock remain unspeakably hard, it also fucked her in different angles; left, right, down, up, deep, shallow... her brain could hardly keep up with this much variation; the closer she got to her orgasm, the more frequent deep shoves she had to endure, each time bumping against her cervix. Suddenly, she felt her body being pulled into the phenomenon even further; out of reflex, Vicky slammed her hands against the wall to keep her from being sucked in completely. But, mere seconds later, when her body began to shudder and tremble as her formidable orgasm was setting in, she reconsidered and took her hands away from the wall, theatrically locking them together above her head. The danger and uncertainty of whether she was going to be completely pulled into the hole was an element of danger which only fueled her lust and gave her a mental orgasm to go with the physical one that was taking control of her body. As the massive cock kept pounding into her relentlessly, her body trashed and bucked wildly off the floor. Screaming much louder than she usually did, Vicky clenched her eyes shut, banged her fists on the floor repeatedly and squealed like an overacting porn-star – only she wasn't exaggerating. She was getting fucked by a force, literally out of this world!

Multiple orgasms: it was something Vicky didn't have a lot experience with. She could remember maybe two or three times, but even then they had been nothing like these: she couldn't even tell where one ended and the next one began. For over ten minutes Vicky orgasmed and orgasmed, constantly feeling the same hardness being pushed into her, constantly stimulating her in all the right places; stretching her, pushing her body and her pussy to the limits, but never hurting or forcing her in any way! Just when she thought she was going to pass out, the fucking slowed down, gradually giving her more and more reprieve to handle the aftermath of this unbelievable fuck. While the cock kept sliding in and out of her – in a very slow and gentle pace – Vicky burst out in tears, overwhelmed by the many emotions which had been awakened in her, but also because of the wonderful ache that she was feeling down in her pussy.

Bit by bit, the divine cock left her pussy and with her feet still in the wall, Vicky was given all the time she needed to compose herself and deal with the overwhelming sensations that had befallen her. Roughly ten minutes later, she pulled her feet out of the holes and stood up; still a bit wobbly on her feet, she went down to the bathroom and soaked in a hot bathtub for about an hour. Then, she got back into bed and slept the rest of the morning and a big part of the afternoon.



Dave would be in for a surprise tonight, Vicky thought as she enjoyed a relaxing cup of coffee out on the patio. Her "little" nap of six hours had left her in a rather playful mood, which wasn't surprising considering she had been aroused almost non-stop since she discovered the phenomenon. With her most recent indiscretion still fresh in her memory, Vicky was primed for either some extensive gentle love-making or some serious hardcore fucking... and nearly anything in between. Yes, if Dave played his cards right, he could pretty much do anything to her he wanted, Vicky smiled as she sipped from her cup of coffee, waiting impatiently for the man of her life to come home from work.

Although she practically threw herself at Dave as soon as he got in, the poor fellow was too tired to do anything about it; he apologized and promised to make it up to her the following morning. Although she understood, it frustrated the hell out of her. When Vicky suggested they get an early night, Dave agreed. He fell asleep almost immediately after his head hit the pillow. After listening to him snoring for about ten minutes, Vicky grew increasingly horny just thinking of what she might have been doing instead, if Dave hadn't had such an exhausting day. Feeling exceptionally naughty, she began touching herself, playing with her breasts and stimulating her clit, not even a meter away from her husband. Unfortunately, she got so relaxed that she drifted off to sleep and forgot to set the alarm clock. As a result, they overslept, forcing Dave to skip breakfast – as well as pleasuring his wife – and drive off like a maniac, hoping his boss wouldn't dock his pay for turning up nearly half an hour late. 




The Hole



Not feeling very hungry herself, Vicky decided she would just have a cup of coffee before getting dressed and starting her day – most of which would be taking place up in the attic again, Vicky thought as she felt her moist pussy contracting. As she finished her coffee as quickly as she could, she began to ponder the possibilities, wondering what nasty things she was going to let her non-corporeal lover do to her today. However, when she walked out of the kitchen – about to head up the stairs – she noticed a large white truck parked out in front of the house; in a moment of clarity, she realized that it was the carpenter's crew Dave had arranged to make some extensive repairs on the outside woodwork, the porch and the patio. Before she had a chance to move, the foreman knocked and – looking through the glass portion of the front door – greeted her with a friendly head nod. Reluctantly, Vicky – wearing nothing but her flimsy negligée – walked up to the front door and opened it. Although he was professional enough not to say anything, Vicky caught him peeking at her tits several times during their two minute conversation. Luckily, she was standing too close for him to glance down at her bush, which was no doubt visible through the delicate fabric. After getting some basic information, he told her he was going to check up on his crew – who were unloading all sorts of material from the truck – informing her that he would be back in ten minutes for a more detailed set of instructions; obviously a ruse to give her a chance to change into something a little less revealing.

After closing the door, Vicky – embarrassed beyond words – practically ran up the stairs, but when she walked into the master bedroom and saw herself into the full-length mirror, she froze. She could hardly blame the foreman for staring at her: her negligée not only scarcely covered her ass area, the material itself was so wafer-thin that it was almost completely transparent. Every freckle on her breasts and every hair on her nearly trimmed bush was so clearly visible that she might as well have been naked; this realization made her so horny that she began to entertain a ridiculously wicked idea: what if she didn't change, what if she were to continue parading around in this flimsy excuse of a nightgown, scandalously putting her private parts further on display. Vicky closed her eyes as her moist pussy contracted and made her weak at the knees for a moment; she gasped as she made up her mind and turned to walk down the stairs, feeling her erect nipples graze against her negligée with every step she took. She walked into the kitchen and poured herself another cup of coffee as she nervously waited for the foreman to return. When he did and she opened the door to let him in, he could hardly believe his eyes. He had provided her with more than enough time to change; then why hadn't she done so? Incredulously, he followed her into the kitchen as she sashayed her hips for his viewing pleasure, making sure that he got a good look at her firm ass. Meanwhile, she was working up the courage for what was coming next: she knew very well that by turning to face him, she would be exposing herself completely. As there was now a distance of several meters between them, he would be able to see everything!

The foreman, who hadn't thought that far ahead yet – as he was still admiring her gorgeous ass – nearly fainted when she turned around; instinctively, his gaze immediately descended to Vicky's crotch where it lingered for several seconds. God, she felt like such a slut! After a few moments, the foreman – embarrassed about his staring – quickly started asking specifics about the repairs and adjustments, meticulously writing everything down on his clipboard. While Vicky provided him with all the information he needed, she caught him staring at her private parts numerous times. At some point, during one of his technical explanations, Vicky caught herself staring at his crotch, more specifically at the central swelling that was fueling her imagination. They talked for nearly fifteen minutes, both acting as if there was nothing inappropriate about this situation – although his cock and her nipples seemed to be getting more erect with each passing minute. You could pretty much cut the sexual tension in the room with a knife!

As soon as the foreman ended the conversation and walked back out, Vicky rushed up the stairs towards the attic, urgently needing some relief. To her surprise, the hole was already there – in the middle of the wall, about the size of an orange – seemingly waiting for her. She walked up to it and stopped about a meter away from the wall, whispering:"I don't just want any cock this time, I want... his!"

Not knowing what to expect, she just stood there waiting impatiently for the phenomenon to make a move; her hand twitching nervously and every inch of her skin radiating sexual heat. After about ten seconds of inactivity, the hole quickly expanded and took the shape of a door; Vicky gasped as she realized what she was being asked to do here. Although the prospect of walking through a pitch black hole in the wall caused her some apprehension, she had absolutely no reason not to trust the phenomenon; it had never done anything except exceed her expectations at every turn. Besides, she was too damn horny to refuse anyway...

After taking a deep breath, she walked straight at it and confidently stepped through; in the few seconds it took her to do that, her pussy contracted several times. Once through, she found herself in her own hallway downstairs, her back towards a solid wall as if she had just stepped through it. Confused, she looked around, wondering why the phenomenon had recreated this particular venue. Just as she was thinking how incredibly detailed the recreation was, the focus of her current desires – the foreman – stepped through the front door and asked if he could use the bathroom. Figuring this was her queue, Vicky smiled as she approached him and – after grabbing his hand – led him up the stairs into the master bedroom. 

As he stood there dumbfounded, she unbuckled his belt and undid the button and zipper of his jeans, then squatted down in front of him, yanking his jeans down along with his boxers. As his hard tool veered up and hit her chin, Vicky grinned and opened her mouth, passionately gulping it down and swirling her tongue around the fat head. Whilst the foreman stared down at her, in utter shock and disbelief, Vicky started bobbing her head up and down his veiny shaft, exerting so much suction and pressure with her lips, that he started pulsating in her mouth. It was amazing how real this entire recreation seemed, Vicky thought as she walked over to the bed and turned towards her soon-to-be-lover. As she maintained eye contact, she laid down on her back and opened her legs invitingly, whispering:"Fuck me stud... fuck me as hard as you can!"

The foreman could hardly believe what was happening: he gawked at Vicky's perfect body, her left hand provocatively caressing her boobs. On automatic pilot, he hurried out of his clothes and got on his knees between her legs, carefully placing his massive cock at her moist entrance.

"My god, you're soaking wet." he said as he penetrated her slowly. Vicky didn't respond as she was finally getting what she'd been craving: a big cock sliding in and out of her pussy. She whined and squealed as she screwed her deep and slow, his handsome muscular body moving back on forth on top of hers; his large, hard cock stretching the walls of her vagina as he barely fit inside of her. The phenomenon had outdone itself yet again, Vicky smiled as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and pulled him closer, so she could kiss him. As they were sloppily exploring each other's mouths with their tongues, he started fucking her faster and harder, really slamming into her, giving her a thorough pounding. After a few minutes he pulled out and grabbed her legs, flipped her over onto her stomach and maneuvered her legs under her ass, so that it was sticking up towards him. Without much ado, he entered her from behind and started fucking her powerfully, sliding the entire length of his massive cock into her over and over again. Vicky, overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure washing over her, buried her face in her pillow and started shrieking and howling, her hands clawing at the matrass next to her pillow. As his strong hands kept her tooshie in place, he really started jackhammering her pussy, fucking her like a wild animal. After four divine – but exhausting – minutes of incessant cumming, she was actually relieved to feel him pulling out and spurting all over her ass and the small of her back.

While Vicky was recovering from the scorching fuck, panting and moaning into the pillow, her lover apparently couldn't get out of the room fast enough. Still putting on his clothes as he stumbled out of the room, he said:"Awesome fuck, thanks babe!"

If this wasn't a simulation, she would surely have been offended by his hasty departure, Vicky smiled to herself as she rolled onto her back and exhaled deeply. When she glanced around the room, she noticed the mysterious black door waiting for her, next to her wardrobe. Deciding she should probably get back to reality, she got up and staggered – still a bit drowsy from her wonderful climax – into the passageway. It wasn't until she had actually stepped through and found herself in the attic again, that she realized that she'd forgotten her negligée in the simulation. But even if the doorway hadn't already closed behind her, Vicky wouldn't have bothered going back for it. She just wanted to take a hot shower and check up on the crew downstairs. However, when she walked into the master bedroom to pick out what she was going to wear, her heart skipped a beat and an ice cold shiver ran down her spine as she saw her negligée lying there on the floor, in front of the bed. Telling herself that it was probably a piece of clothing resembling the item in question – although she knew very well that there was nothing else like it in her entire wardrobe – she stepped towards it, determined to examine it more closely, when suddenly she felt something cold and metal under her bare foot. When she looked down and recognized the foreman's belt buckle, she felt her heart pounding in her chest as she started to realize what had happened, what she had done...



The Hole



(Message written to an online forum)

Hello, gentlemen. I found this awesome forum just a little while ago, and I thought I'd introduce myself. I don't have a real name any more, but I am addressed most frequently as "hole" and "cumdump." Actually, although you can't see it in the picture below, "cumdump" is tattooed on my back.

So, about me: I am twenty-five years old, about 5'8", and somewhere around 135lbs. Like many of you here, I am a born cocksucker. I am a little different than you guys, though... in addition to being a born cocksucker, I am actually an owned piece of property. The word "slave" technically applies to me but seems inappropriate. The reason for this is that a slave is a person, while I am not. I am (by choice) an object -- a hole. I'll relate to you now the story of how this came to be.

About three years ago, I met a feeder just two years older than me. The first time I sucked him off, he didn't even ask if I swallowed. When he was ready to cum he simply held my head in place, shoved his cock all the way down my throat, and stared straight into my eyes as he dumped his load into me. I could barely even breathe, but he held me there until his cock started to soften. He never said a word. I was held there on my knees as though transfixed, with this man's -- this stranger's -- softening cock buried in my throat. Then he did something I really wasn't expecting.

My heart was beating like crazy. This man, just barely older than me, radiated a quiet sense of power that was simply magnificent. I felt awed by him -- and perhaps that's why when he started pissing down my throat, looking straight into my eyes as he did it, I simply swallowed. I let the man use me as a cumdump and a urinal.

This stranger, who didn't even know I was a cocksucker until that evening, took me completely for granted. I had never felt so completely and utterly used. I knew of course that I should have been deeply and irrevocably offended by his attitude toward me, but instead of being offended, I felt... well, I felt like I was where I belonged. While I had been sucking cocks for most of my adult life, I never realized exactly what I was until my future owner's piss started flowing down my throat.

Over the course of the next two years, we had many, many encounters like this. We got to know one another very well through texts, e-mails, and very occasionally, spoken conversations (usually when we were physically together, my mouth was engaged in other duties). Like me, he was a professionally successful young man. He was primarily heterosexual but enjoyed recognizing and using cumdumps to release his loads. He knew me for what I was, and what's more, he respected me for it. That might sound odd considering how he views me (as an object), but he knows that things like me are very rare, and very, very valuable. A person becoming an object is the ultimate gift. It's precious.

Finally, after the second year, we had The Conversation. We talked about my desires, about what I really was and what I was supposed to do, and although it terrified me, I made the decision. To become owned. To become an object. To be his hole, forever. And I've never been happier. I gave up my job and my friends and my family. I live with him in his condo; when he's not here, I am free to do pretty much whatever I want, within limits. When he is here, I sit in a corner on my knees until he wants to use me. He loans me to his friends from time to time, but this is relatively rare -- he's rather stingy with his possessions.

The hardest part of all of this is not being allowed to cum. He hates the idea of a hole having a cock, so he locked me in a chastity device a year ago after I gave myself to him. I've only been out of it for medical checkups and other such necessities, and so for the last year, I haven't had a single orgasm. I can relieve myself by milking my prostate, but trust me, it's not the same as having an orgasm. Given the length of time I've been in the device, it's highly unlikely I'll ever be able to have an erection again, even if it is removed, which probably won't happen any time soon.

Right now he is out on a date with a nice young woman. She actually knows about me, too, and she's cool with it. He makes this a condition of any serious relationship since he's not willing to give up his prized possession. I imagine he will, though, someday. Right now I'm a young and very attractive hole, but youth doesn't last forever. Who knows what the future may bring.

Anyway, that's my story. A bit unusual, perhaps, but nevertheless, I welcome the opportunity to know my fellow cocksuckers.

-hole