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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Gloryhole On The Monmouth Services
by Lesley (ouirup4it@yaho.co.uk)
***
A conversation with guy on the internet leads to
fulfilling his fantasy in a service station toilet.
(MMF, bi, oral, glory)
***
It's almost 9.0pm and I'm driving from Usk towards
Monmouth looking out for the services. The light is just
beginning to fade and I have the headlights on. My
stomach knots as the entrance comes into view. I ease
the car off the highway and follow the access road round
to the car park and come to a halt in front of the
entrance doors as instructed. There are only a couple of
other cars and a transit van parked up but four or five
wagons in a separate area fifty yards or so away.
Ordinarily on such a warm evening I would have had the
top down on the car but was a little unsure how things
were going to develop, so the hood was up. In tribute to
the weather I wore a thin pale blue sun dress with
string shoulder straps. Underneath, nothing except a
minuscule thong and the garter belt with light tan
seamed stockings as requested. White heeled sandals and
a clutch bag completed my outfit.
Also as asked, I wore my dark hair in a ponytail and had
been heavy with the make-up and the lipstick. My mobile
phone rang. Heart bumping I pressed the answer button.
His voice said, 'Go on, it's clear,' and disconnected.
Switching off the engine, I sat suddenly nauseous.
My husband would go crackers if he knew what I'd agreed
to do. Don't get me wrong. He'd have no moral
objections, only reservations about safety and the level
of risk involved. He was away for a couple of weeks and
now I'd allowed my treacherous curiosity and 'try
anything once' attitude to overcome common sense.
A couple of years earlier I'd struck up a telephone
acquaintance with a lorry driver, at least that's what
he told me he was. I'd arranged to meet him via an
advert in a contact mag but he'd stood me up. Ringing to
'sort him out' had resulted in regular chats of a risque
nature. In one exchange of fantasies he told me his
favourite turn-on's were stories of glory holes. I at
the time hadn't a clue what he was on about but when he
described what happened etc., I admitted I found it
sordidly intriguing and that I might be tempted to give
it a go.
Last week he told me he'd found one on one of his runs
up into Wales. He guessed it was mainly used by gay men
but said he'd not ever encountered anyone there when he
had checked it out. Twenty minutes of extremely fruity
banter and here I am about to step into his fantasy and
make it reality. Another car swings into the car park.
I'd better make a move or the 'all clear' I'd been given
would be history.
I swivelled out of the car, a light breeze, cool on my
legs and lifting the hem of my dress as I crossed the
car park to the entrance lobby of the services. Through
the swing doors. As he had described, the Little Chef
and Burger King on the right, toilets on the left, shop
through the lobby. Catching my reflection in the Little
Chef window I approved of how I looked. The silky dress
hung nicely on my size ten figure and showed off my
36A's perfectly. Not bad for fortyish I thought but
probably not an issue considering the current venture.
Taking a deep breath I headed for the toilets. A quick
glance over my shoulder to check no one was following
and turned left at the end of the corridor into the
Gents. Crossing the room quickly, my heart pounding and
the sound of my heels on the floor crashing in my head I
noted there was no one at the urinals, before gaining
the sanctuary of the designated centre cubicle of three.
Closing the door behind me, the lock worked thank
goodness, I put the seat lid down and sat on it.
After a few seconds I felt secure enough to examine my
surroundings. To all intent and purposes a normal
toilet, a bit shabby, not well lit with more graffiti
than you would get in the women's but passably clean
with a heavy aroma of Jeyes fluid. It could have been
worse I mused.
The only significant feature was a hole in the partition
between this and the adjacent cubical on the left. This
was the reason I was here. It was just big enough to put
your hand through and sitting on the seat I could just
about lean forward enough to look into the neighbouring
toilet or place my mouth in front of it, The hole edges
were a bit rough and it had clearly been hacked out with
a penknife or some such.
In the increasingly salacious conversations that
proceeded tonight, I had agreed to try to be 'on
station' in this cubicle from 9.0pm and to stay here for
at least an hour. He, (and I had agreed in the heat of
the fantasy) wanted it to be an authentic experience,
where maybe he would not be my only, or even the first
punter that I would pleasure at the 'hole.' As the
seconds ticked by I was becoming more anxious and this
seemed less and less a good idea.
Not a turn on at all.
Then came the sound of approaching footsteps, squeaking
on the floor. I found myself holding my breath as I
listened to make out any signs of interest. Could they
see my sandaled feet under the door? Would they inform
the proprietors etc? It was just possible to make out
the sound of a guy peeing at the urinal, then washing
his hands. The sound of the hand dryer. Then his shoes
squeaking away into the corridor. Then there was a
cough. Someone must have entered the gents while the
hand dryer was running.
He? was at the urinal I could hear the trickle of the
waste pipe. The sound of the tap. He was moving very
quietly. Then the door of the cubical to my left clicked
shut. Unsure of the protocol I sat still on the toilet
seat frightened to move, my eyes focused on the hole.
After what seemed an age, a stubby finger traced the
edge of the hole then another. I watched the hand
circling the edge of the hole then in the air on my side
of the partition.
Thinking 'It's now or never' I shifted my knee into
range of the groping fingers. They came to rest on my
knee, tracing the surface of my stocking as they had the
inside of the hole in the cubicle. Sliding up the inside
of my leg the advance of the hand was halted by the
restriction of the aperture just at the top of my
stocking. To facilitate its exploration I stood up and
in front of the hole. It resumed its upward progress,
pausing only momentarily encountering real flesh, before
probing at the silky thong.
Without ceremony the flimsy scrap of material was pulled
aside and with only minimal assistance from me
(shuffling my legs apart) two or three digits thrust
their way along and in and out of my cunt. He spoke
quite softly but clearly in a valleys accent 'you're a
woman, then.' I didn't respond. 'thought you might be a
cd or a tranny.' His hand withdrew and a light shone
thro' the hole. He had a torch shining into my crotch.
It was then I realised I was holding up the hem of my
dress so he had an uninterrupted view. Shuffling my feet
till they were under his side of the partition I pressed
my groin to the hole, parting the folds of my fanny to
reveal the inner flesh.
I felt his fingers push briefly in. It was difficult
holding the position against the wall. Then his tongue
lapped up and down my slit. In reality it was not great
but it felt really dirty and I was beginning to get off
on it. The tonguing stopped. I kept myself, dress up
round my waist, pressed against the hole waiting for it
to resume.
For an instant I thought his fingers were opening me up
again then I realised it was a prick sliding easily into
me. 'Bloody hell' I thought stepping back.
'Wait' I hissed.
I'd made up my mind anything not wearing a mack was only
going in my mouth. Grasping the disembodied weapon, I
happily observed it was already sheathed for action.
'Ok' I thought, 'here goes.' Turning my back on the hole
and guiding the twitching member, with one hand I
reversed back onto it until my behind felt the cool of
the partition wall.
The anonymous cock began a spasmodic assault on my cunt,
accompanied by the suppressed grunting of its owner.
It's probably not ideal as an arrangement being up
against a flat wall for the bloke and after a couple of
minutes the prick withdrew. As I turned round, it
reappeared jutting through the hole, the condom taught
around its bulbous end. Rolling the slick sheath off, I
squatted face to the wall and lowered my mouth over the
dick, cupping the hairy balls in one hand. The knob was
circumcised and fat, bulging my cheeks but overall not
so long I couldn't get it all in my mouth without
gagging.
I'm not that good at the deep throat stuff, but enjoy
sucking cock. Whoever was on the other side of the
partition wasn't complaining as I worked my lips up and
down his shaft. In the quiet of the toilet all you could
hear was the slurping of my mouth on this anonymous cock
and the restrained but tense murmurs of approval from
the other cubicle. These became tenser and the dick
seemed to push even further into my cubicle before it
throbbed and pumped its salty snot into my mouth. He was
not a big comer and I swallowed down easily each spurt.
Within seconds the cock began to wither. It pulled out
and retreated through the hole. There was a brief
shuffling, the sound of a zipper, the door latch of the
adjacent booth rattled and I was on my own again. I
laughed, 'Well thanks for everything,' and sat down
again on the seat of the toilet.
I tried not to look at my watch as I waited on events.
It seemed extremely quiet. Someone came to the urinal
and left. Without washing his hands I noticed. Then two
sets of footsteps approached and came into the gents.
There was some whispered conversation, followed by
someone entering the recently vacated toilet. The door
latch rattled shut.
Again I held my breath in anticipation. Deciding to move
things along I put my hand to the edge of the hole and
beckoned. I was immediately rewarded with a hot cock
being pushed into my grasp. Drawing it back into my side
of the partition I looked at it in the gloomy light. It
was uncut, slender probably longer than its evenings
predecessor. After a few perfunctory manipulations with
my hands I dropped my mouth over it. It was rock hard,
hot in my mouth and I bobbed my face up and down on it
with all the energy I could apply. The owner of this now
pulsing rod was muttering something or other and I
realised that he was not talking to me and that he was
not alone in the next cubicle.
There were two guys in there.
Must be a squeeze I thought and wondered if they were
gay, continuing to lavish my attention on the cock in
hand. Pushing down over the prick till it made me gargle
nudging the back of my throat I was imagining the scene
the other side of the wall. The elegant cock suddenly
withdrew, to be immediately replaced by a short fat
stumpy number complete with very hairy bollocks all
thrust into my side of the partition.
Resuming where I had left off, with this new dick, it
was not long before its owner was making suppressed but
audible groans. As I worked up a lather on the stumpy
knob, it occurred to me that the rhythm of his
appreciation was not entirely synchronised with my
efforts but also with a perceptible push of the genitals
into my face. The guy was being buggered as I sucked him
off.
'Lucky sod' I thought, the idea firing me up. Locating
my bag, I retrieved a condom and rolled it onto the
angry knob. Turning round and slipping off my thong, I
backed up reaching between my legs to guide myself onto
it. Thick as it was, my cunt opened up eagerly and my
arse nestled against his balls and the cool formica.
Bracing on the opposite wall I gyrated on the cock as
rhythmically as I could. A combination of grunts and
twitches indicated he'd shot his load after only a few
minutes. The stubby prick had retreated to its own side
of the partition by the time I turned round and the slim
tool I had previously gobbled reappeared, this time
slick with the juice from its recent scabbard. I grasped
it. It was slippy and softening. Squatting, I lowered my
lips to it. It smelt of sweaty cock and the other guys
arse. Luxuriating in the squalor of the moment, I drew
the slimy flaccid sausage into my mouth and once again
began to give it the treatment.
Frigging myself with one hand, the other against the
wall for balance, the cock returning to hardness against
my tongue I raced the cocks owner to a conclusion.
Abruptly the now rigid prick, withdrew. A clean shaven
mouth appeared at the hole and whispered 'push your tit
through the hole.' Although I was wary of this I knelt
on the floor slipped the straps of my dress over my arms
and offered my left breast to the hole.
The mouth licked the engorged nipple and sucked as much
flesh into it as it could. I could feel the rough sides
of hole grazing my skin as the mouth pulled the whole of
my breast through to its side. Two mouths competed then
to suck and bite (quite gently) at my protruding tit. I
heard some sniggering as I prostrated myself to the
wall. A sensation of warm fluid on my tit.
The other guy must have emptied his condom on me.
Followed by firm kneading as they pushed their pricks
into the flesh of my breast. Cautiously I pulled away
from the wall, my breast, which is not at all pendulous,
stretching as it dragged against the abrasive edges of
the hole.
There was further indecipherable muttering from next
door. I bent to look through the hole. The mouth there,
muttered 'put your arse to the hole.' Placing my nether
regions over the hole, I immediately began to squirm as
one set of fingers reamed my cunt, while two or three
others probed my arse ring. God knows what they used to
lubricate it, but in seconds I was pushing on the hand
in my fanny as fingers delved and opened up my rectum.
'Put a condom on,' I grunted under the onslaught and
turned back to the hole putting my hand through
demanding a cock. The long slim one slipped into my
hand, again softening. Drawing it through the hole, I
sucked it back to firmness for the third time and rolled
a rubber onto it. Resuming my previous stance I braced
myself on the opposite wall as 'whoever' drove his prick
into my anal cavity.
Somehow the other guy managed to get some fingers
alongside his accomplices bollocks and onto my clit. He
knew what he was doing and I was soon writhing to his
tune as the tool slid firmly and relentlessly in and out
my bumhole. It slowed down, then as I began to shudder
into an orgasm, jabbed at my arse with a frenzy.
I managed to stay on my feet feeling his cock twitching
inside me. Before he was done I turned to roll off the
condom and jerk and gobble him to a finish, taking his
spunk on my face and tits. Reaching in, he spread the
goo over both my breasts pinching the nipples before
withdrawing. The short stubby cock reappeared. Seating
myself on the toilet seat, more out of duty than
anything, I sucked him again, fisting his thick prick
till it to spat its musky stuff onto my face and neck.
I sat back on the toilet seat, dress up round my waist,
bare breasted, stockings, for whose benefit they were .
I don't know?, dirty and laddered. sperm in my hair and
congealing on my face and breasts. A great picture and I
thought and an interesting evening without any
unpleasantness. If my telephone contact had not been one
of those guys then he had missed out.
I had fulfilled my part of the bargain and was ready to
make a run for it. I waited hearing my partners from the
next cubicle shuffle and mutter then, I think a gruff
'thank you' before the latch rattled and their footsteps
quickly died away in the corridor. Slipping my arms back
into the straps, I made myself shipshape, determined not
to acknowledge anyone I encountered as I left. Opening
the cubicle door I walked quietly to the door of the
gents and then straight out to the car.
Not waiting around I started the car and headed for
home. Parked up about an hour later at Strensham the
mobile rang. It was him. 'You've been busy,' he said. 'I
came across twice to see if there was anything doing,
but you were already in action, maybe you'll tell me
about it later.'
Maybe I will but I'm not sure I'll be doing that again.
Things may not run so smooth next time.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 72