Date: Sun, 05 Aug 2001 16:49:16 -0700
From: Backlash29 x <backlash29@hotmail.com>
Subject: buttsex-junkie-5

Author's note: This is the fifth installment in a multi-part story. All
feedback is welcome, though I prefer negative feedback be limited to
constructive comments. This is my second published story. My first series,
"Cup of Joe", can be found in the Gay/Authoritarian section of the Nifty
archive.

Disclaimer: This is a story about men getting it on with other men. If you
like this sort of thing, please read on. If you don't like it, get lost.
Many of the events and characters are based on my life. Safer sex practices
are not depicted here. If you decide to live out any of these fantasies,
please use condoms.

Buttsex Junkie

Chapter 5: Glory Hole Discovery

Our town was small but not tiny, around a hundred thousand people. It had a
small private college in it, plus two community colleges and a technical
school. The south side of town, where my family lived, was upper-middle
class. We lived between the college and the river, which comprised the city
limits at the town's southern edge,  in a long row of large tract houses
with deep lawns that spread down to our quiet street. The town's north side,
on the other hand, was older and more working-class, with older houses
occupying tiny parcels of land, all in various stages of upkeep or decay.

Downtown contained a few banks and large office buildings, but the primary
industry was manufacturing, mostly related to farming equipment that was
sold into the many rural agricultural communities nearby. As a result, the
north end of town, bordering the freeway, was home to several truck stops
and other businesses catering to the blue-collar trade of transport
professionals who came and went on a daily and weekly basis. What few fast
food chains and  tourist traps we had were also located near there, catching
whatever transient traffic might be passing through, offering an oasis among
the vast expanse of rolling hills that covered the central part of the
state.

Just off the freeway, near the largest truck stop, was the Holiday Mall.
Built in the fifties to capitalize on the freeway traffic boom, it had
slowly lost business over the decades since, and by the time I was in high
school it was clear the place had seen better days. Only about half the
shops were occupied, and the carpet and paint everywhere in it was stained
and dated. Not that I went there very often-my family generally did its
shopping in a trendier, newer section on the south side. But sometimes my
friends and I would hang out there, playing games at the video arcade or
having cokes and fries in the greasy diner at the mall's far end.

I guess I was vaguely aware of the rumors, that the restrooms at Holiday
Mall were used for sex. The guys would joke about it once in a while, saying
that truckers all knew it was a surefire place to get blow-jobs and other
sexual relief while en route on a long haul. I never gave it much thought;
in fact, whenever someone referred to blow-jobs in the restrooms, for some
reason I always pictured slutty women and girls doing it for them, not men.
I fleeting wondered whether the women waited for the truckers in the men's
restroom, or whether men went into the ladies' room, or whether the whole
thing was fiction.

We were at the diner one Saturday night, just the regular crowd and
me-Manny, Petey, and Dan, plus Dan's toe-headed little cousin Rick from
out-of-town-when once again the subject came up.

"So where's the famous restroom where all the girls give head?" Rick asked.

Manny snorted. "Not girls, you dope. Guys. Fags." I was silent, and seconds
later I kicked myself for not putting this fact together on my own. "And
like I'd know where they are, I'm no log-choker, ya freak."

"Yeah, right," Dan flicked a french fry at our friend. "I bet you don't care
who swings on your dick, horndog. Queer dudes, chicks, or 'other'...!" He
flashed a stupid grin.

Everyone laughed, myself included. It would be a few years yet before spoke
back to the queer/fag stuff. Even then, I was starting to shrug it off. What
I did focus on was the what Dan had said, and how he'd said it: that he was
familiar with the idea of getting a dude to suck you off, and all it means
is you're horny, not gay. I suddenly pictured Dan a different way. He was
very goodlooking, and I'd seen his dick a few times in the showers. It was
big, fleshy and uncut. I wondered what it would be like to satisfy him. And
I wondered if he'd be open-minded enough to go beyond a simple blow-job and
ram his huge bat up my ass.

Within seconds, I'd sprung a raging hard-on. I searched Dan's face briefly
to see if he'd catch my eye somehow, but that didn't occur. Just as well, I
figured. In that condition, I'd probably blush out of control.

As our inane conversation then veered in some other mindless direction, I
began to tune out and focus on this new realization about our current
locale. So, men had sex here at Holiday Mall. But in which set of restrooms?
There were three that I knew of. One was adjacent to the diner, and one was
near the video arcade. These were the only sets I'd ever used. But I knew
there was a third set, down at the mall's other end, where most of the shops
were empty. Now that I thought about it, I had rarely seen anyone at that
end of the mall in the evenings when we were hanging out, but what few
people I did notice were usually men, walking alone, dressed in the way
truckers might be.

My mind raced. I thrilled at the idea of random men showing up in a remote
place, for no reason other than to receive service. But I couldn't yet
conceive of the specifics of what went on. Did they meet in the stalls? How
did they indicate to each other what they wanted? What if someone walked in?

That did it, I had to learn for myself. Unfortunately Petey had driven all
of us that night, so I was without a vehicle temporarily and couldn't break
from the crowd. I was tempted to excuse myself to go use the john, and
travel there to check it out for myself, but I knew that walking to the
other end of the mall would take a long time and probably arouse the guys'
attention, if not their suspicion. So I had to content myself for another
hour, chattering about football and girls and school. The whole time, my
hard dick raged in my jeans, and every time I opened my mouth to eat another
french fry, I couldn't escape picturing Dan's cock slipping in between my
lips instead.

Finally, at around ten-thirty, the crew voted to change venues. I was glad
when Manny suggested the bowling alley on the south side, because I knew my
house was on the way and I could easily beg off. A short while later I was
crawling out of Petey's back seat and waving my friends good-bye, only to
walk in the house and make up some reason for borrowing my Mom's car for the
next few hours.

My heart raced as I drove back to the mall. I parked near the diner, in the
same exact stall that Petey had parked in earlier. I watched as people came
and went from the doorway. This late, the diner was the only shop open. I
realized that I would probably look stupid walking in there alone,
especially when I'd clearly been there with my friends less than a half-hour
earlier. I decided that the only acceptable plan was to enter the mall when
no one in the diner was paying attention, and make my way to the men's room.
I figured if anyone stopped me I could say I was just out driving around and
I needed to take a leak.

So that's what I did. First I got out of my car, walked over to the mall
entrance, and pretended to be reading newspaper headlines through the
windows of the machines that dispensed them. At a point when all the diner
workers were in the back of the restaurant, I took a deep breath, pulled
open the doors, and went inside. With barely a glance in my peripheral
vision, I busily strode right past the entrance to the diner and kept going
down the wide, empty corridor.

The whole way to the far men's room, I didn't see a single soul. About
half-way I started feeling extremely foolish, and I almost laughed out loud
at myself. I had no idea whether I would find anything happening in the
men's room or not. Most likely, I would not. It also occurred to me that the
men who went there might be older and flabby and gross. From what I knew
about truckers, they weren't universally known for their hygiene. Still, I
had committed to seeing whatever there was to see.

As I pushed open the door, I heard a brief noise-a slight scuffle, then
nothing. I stepped inside, and the door swung shut silently behind me.
Before me were the sinks, next to those the urinals, and following that,
three toilet stalls. I looked down and saw that two of the stalls were
indeed occupied: in one, a pair of sneakers was visible, and in the other, a
pair of men's work boots.

I decided to take a piss and observe for a few minutes, to see what
happened, if anything. I approached the farthest urinal, next to the first
stall, and unzipped. As I stood there, neither of the men in the stalls
seemed to do anything. Maybe these guys were just using the facilities,
after all. Or, if they were doing something else, maybe they had chickened
out when I walked in the room. Maybe they'd quickly gather themselves and
depart while I had my back to them, exiting the men's room and squandering
my luck.

Soon I thought: How could they be doing anything when they sat in different
stalls? It didn't make sense. The scuffle I had heard upon entering couldn't
account for one of the men moving from one stall to the other. There hadn't
been enough time. I decided they were innocent, or if they were trying to
cruise each other, they must have been doing it by some ritual I wasn't
privy to, and I must have caught them early at it.

Then, just as I finished peeing, I heard it. A groan, low and quiet, nearly
inaudible, but unmistakable. It couldn't have been related to any other
business: it was a sigh of pleasure. My eyes grew instantly wide, and I
paused again before zipping up. The pair had gone silent again, possibly in
reaction to the one man's utterance. But I wanted them to continue, whatever
it could be that they were doing. What should I do?

I zipped up my crotch and turned around. I was about to head toward the
sinks when I suddenly felt compelled in the other direction. I moved to the
nearest stall, the one that was still unoccupied, and stepped inside. I
turned again, latching the stall door, and then lowered my pants and sat
down.

Somehow this activity gave the other two immediate license to be as loud as
they wanted to. I heard slurping, groaning, and occasional shuffling of
shoes on the restroom floor. They guy farthest from me let go a low "Oh
yeah" and I realized it was he who had grunted a few moments earlier as I
stood to piss. These guys were headlong into a blowjob, and I didn't
understand how they were doing it. I looked down at the dividing wall: it
left a gap of scarcely twelve inches above the floor, not nearly enough
space for even the most flexible dude to maneuver his cock underneath.

My eyes then moved slowly up the wall, to crotch-level. Next to the toilet
paper roll, I saw it. It was a hole about three inches in diameter, stuffed
with tissue. I knew right then that there must be an identical hole on the
next wall over, and that through it one man was giving head to another. What
a perfect design!

All that remained now was to get up the nerve to remove the tissue. I put my
hand on it, and with a promise to myself that I could still back out of this
situation whenever I wanted, and justify my behavior as innocent if it came
to that-I pulled the wad of toilet paper out of the hole, and peered
through.

The guy in tennis shoes was on his knees, facing away from me. He appeared
to be in his late teens, with a blond buzz cut, probably a college guy. He
wore tight faded jeans, and his shirt was off, displaying cute strong
muscles in his tan back. I noticed his shirt hanging above him on a hook.
>From this angle, he looked very hot. His head moved toward and away from the
wall, mechanically worshipping the dick in front of him that I couldn't see.

I stroked my cock as I watched the show, fascinated. After a few minutes,
the blond stud backed off the cock to catch his breath, and he twisted his
hot torso around toward me. When he saw my eye at the hole, a smile lit up
his face, and I suddenly realized two things: He was even cuter than I had
imagined from viewing his back side, and...I recognized him! He was the
blond college stud, Alan, who had helped Kurt and Kenny and Horse fuck me
that first fateful day at Kurt's house, along with his boyfriend, the
dark-haired beauty Ben. I hadn't seen either of them in the months since
that encounter, and here he was, giving head in a public john. I knew he
couldn't recognize me without getting closer to the hole.

Before I had any time to react, he asked: "Do you like what you see over
there?"

I didn't respond. I was still in shock from recognizing him, and from
discovering this hot action.

He turned around and sat back on the toilet, his left hand jerking the big
throbbing dick that protruded from the opposite hole. I practically drooled.
He saw this, still smiling. "Why don't you show me what you've got, too," he
invited. His voice was soft, husky and cool.

Trembling, I stood up and slowly put my dick through the hole. Seconds later
a warm hand wrapped around it, jerking me off. It felt fantastic. This was
soon followed by his hot mouth, and for the first time in a long time, I was
getting a blowjob. Not just any blowjob, but the best one I'd ever had. The
only two boys who had ever sucked me were my cousin Kenny and Kurt (once).
Both were better at it than the girls I'd had, but none of them could
compare to this guy.

Fortunately he stopped after only a brief while, because I didn't want to
lose control so early in my first restroom encounter. He returned to
hand-jobbing me as he caught his breath, then said: "Dude, you want to turn
around? I love to lick ass."

Sounded great to me! I was light-headed from getting such an excellent
blow-job; my knees were practically jelly. But I managed to spin around in
the tiny stall, my jeans and briefs still at my ankles, and carefully I
leaned forward and placed my hands against the opposite wall, backing my ass
up to the hole. Once I had the pucker directly over the opening, I felt
Alan's expert tongue start lapping and pushing into my hot jock crevice.

Upon tasting me, he groaned deeply, sighing with pleasure. He pulled back
briefly. "Oh fuck, that's one tasty hole," he said before sticking his whole
face back in. This guy obviously loved licking around inside a good juicy
butt. To add to the essence, it even still contained some cum: Kurt had
deep-fucked me hard that afternoon, putting two big batches of cum in my
hole. I knew this guy had to be eating what was left of it.

As my blond stud rimmed me deep, I began to remember everything else we'd
done that day. While I was on my back getting fucked by Ben and Horse, Alan
had sat on my face and I had rimmed him good and deep, the same way he was
doing for me now. Then, he and I had kissed and made-out as he bent over for
Kurt's amazing fuck, while Ben (his boyfriend) finished squirting his
boy-cream into my hungry ass.

Best of all, however, I recalled Alan fucking me, me on my back looking up
into his handsome face, his strong arms holding my thick legs open as he
drilled in and out of me with his hard, solid dick. I had loved the face he
made both times he came up my ass: a tortured, soulful scowl of pure
ecstasy.

Without realizing it, my lips formed words, and I spoke them aloud: "Fuck
me...fuck me...please..."

Once I said it loud enough for my hot blond rimmer to hear, he pulled off my
ass and announced in a loud whisper to his friend: "Hey man, we got a real
pussy-boy over here. Wants to be fucked!"

I groaned. "Oh yes, god yes...please man, you gotta put it in my hole...!"

"No problem, man. I need to dump this load anyway."

There was a moment as Alan changed position behind me, and I felt the cool
restroom air on my hole. I ached for the absence of his hot tongue, but I
knew it would be soon replaced by something even sweeter.

Without warning, his pole drove into me. "AAAAAIIGH!" I yelped. The invasion
was sudden but instantly welcome. Alan sunk his huge rod in to the root. I
scrambled to regain my balance and catch my breath. "Oh fuck! Jesus! God..."

He gave me only a second to recover, and then was off and running. I was
impressed at how skillfully he could fuck me with a wall between us. His
dick slammed deep into my hole, pulled all the way out, and then drove in
once again. His strokes were deep and long, lunging in and out of me, slowly
at first but gaining in tempo as he continued his assault on my ass.

I relaxed into the fuck, loving every second and pushing my firm ass back
hard against the wall to maximize each stroke. I wondered briefly what the
other guy was doing, but then I remembered the hole he'd been getting blown
through, and decided he was probably watching from there and jerking off. I
pictured his giant dick as I'd seen it, coated with precum and Alan's drool,
and I knew I couldn't leave without feeling that monster inside my hole as
well.

"Fuck me...yes, fuck...oh please..." I moaned on and on. "Do me...cum in my
hole..."

When I mentioned cumming, Alan seemed to step up his efforts even further.
The rattling wall behind me started making a different noise, and I looked
back over my shoulders to see his knuckles gripping it at the top. He was
grabbing the wall to give himself better leverage on my hole. Instantly he
was fucking me twice as hard and as fast as before. The sensation in my hole
was unreal.

"Oh...Jesus Christ, fuck me dude...oh fuck, man...you know how to fuck a
dude..."

I fisted my own cock, and it was very hard not to make it cum while this
sexy college stud was power-drilling my jock-bitch asshole. But I knew I
wanted to persevere and maximize the pleasure I received before succumbing
to that pleasure myself.

Soon enough, after a few minutes of this relentless attack on my hole, Alan
shot his jism into me in hot, huge globs. I loved the feeling as it coated
my whole interior. It seemed to just keep cumming and cumming. Like many of
the men who fucked me, especially Kurt, this one shot a copious load.

After shooting into my asshole, Alan withdrew, breathless.
"Jesus-fuckin-Christ," he exhaled, panting, "that is one totally sweet ass."
He dropped to his knees, and I felt his heavy breath on my asshole. Once
again he stuck his tongue in, flickering it about, this time rimming out
some of the big sticky load he'd just deposited. The rest of his jizz
escaped down my cheeks on either side, creating a sticky layer between my
ass and the wall.

"My turn," came a gruff voice, and I realized the other man had joined Alan
in the stall. "Ready for some big trucker dick in your cooze, little slut?"

Was I? I was born ready. Hearing him demean me just made me delirious with
lust all over again.

"Fuck yeah man," I challenged him. "Use me. I fuckin' love it. Rape my teen
jock pussy-hole."

This time I had the forethought to prepare for initial entry. I hiked my ass
up tight against the hole, my strong hairy legs bent slightly to support me,
and braced myself with one had against the toilet seat and the other against
the opposite wall, my palm flat against the cool gray metal. Then I closed
my eyes tight and held my breath, in blissful anticipation of being entered
by that enormous, fat dripping trucker cock.

He plowed into me like an avalanche. His cock felt so big and wide that it
seemed to split me in half as it parted the sides of my hole, plunging
impossibly deeper and deeper into my slick, dark talented tunnel. When he
finally bottomed-out I swear I could feel his huge dickhead tickling my
lung. Just being impaled on such a huge stake was enough stimulation for me
to go weak all over again, the blood rushing to my head and my engorged
cock. But I managed to continue bracing myself, and a good thing too.
Without missing a beat, my trucker was soon sawing his huge erection in and
out of my hole.

"OH! Ahhh...aw, fuck me..." I grunted. "Jesus, oh yeah...oh it's so fuckin'
huge...Jesus Christ, man, give it to me. Gimme that huge fat cock...give it
to my hole..."

>From there I lapsed into a steady, low "unh...unh...unh..."  as this huge
dick continued turning my asshole inside out. Every single stroke felt so
fucking good, I couldn't imagine any other reason to be alive.

Meanwhile, my new trucker friend continued to talk dirty with me as he
fucked. "Yeah, what a good pussy-boy," he muttered. "Loves this big dick.
Loves his daddy's cock plowing in and out of his hot hole. Got a nice sweet
ass...loves this dick, loves getting a nice big cock up there..."

I drifted into a stupor of ecstasy, and for the next several minutes I could
focus on nothing other than the supreme pleasure of giving up my hole for
this splendidly hung stud. I was bent over so far that when I looked
straight ahead I saw his boots, firmly planted on the tile floor of the
stall beside me. I tried to picture the rest of him-tall, gruff, muscular,
hairy. To date I had never been fucked by anyone more than 22 or 23 years
old. I imagined this friend to be around forty. I pictured one of my uncles,
Eric, who was about that age, a well-built, dark-haired farmer who was my
mother's brother and whom I had always considered sexy.

And that's what did it. The whole notion of getting violently fucked by a
man twice my age, or even a little older, but still sexy and handsome and
strong....it was all so new and so alluring that I couldn't control myself
any longer. I took my right hand off the toilet seat and gripped my
rock-hard dick, beating it insanely fast to the image of myself bent-over in
a toilet stall getting team-fucked through the wall by a  horny trucker who
resembled my sexy Uncle Eric and a blond sexy college stud who had used my
ass previously but tonight had no idea who I was. Needless to say, I lasted
about five seconds, and then with a slight scream, I hit the edge, and my
boiling teen cum poured from my dick and all over the restroom floor.

"Oh yeah, fuckin' hot," the trucker said with a squeak. He was obviously on
the brink himself, and the natural tightening of my asshole around his
generous dick when I orgasmed was enough to pull him over the edge. His big
load soon joined Alan's in my hole.

He pulled out, and told Alan: "You like drinking cum from used buttholes so
much boy, you go ahead and lick mine out of this cooze." Alan, on cue, soon
covered my ass with his mouth and began hungrily lapping once again at my
hole. My ass was stretched and sore from the hard fucking it had received,
and my hot college friend's tongue felt as soothing a remedy as aloe on a
sunburn.

As Alan was rimming me, the trucker left. I never got to find out what he
looked like, so in my memory he looks exactly like the hot uncle I had
pictured. As I performed more and more glory hole sex over the years, this
aspect became one of my favorite indulgences: picturing the faces and bodies
of the faceless men whose dicks entered me through the wall, matching them
up with my favorite fantasies.

Alan's rim-job felt fantastic, but as soon as I caught my breath, I knew I
had to change position as soon as possible. I had been hunched over, getting
fucked, for over a half-hour. I gradually drew myself into a sitting
position on the toilet, and after a few more minutes of massaging my leg
muscles and wiping up the cum from the floor, I pulled up my jeans and
underwear, ready to face Alan. We both exited our stalls at the same time,
and the look on his face when he saw mine was priceless.

"Ohmigod, you're...?"

"Allen," I said. "Same as you."

He looked shocked for a moment longer, then cracked up laughing. "You're
that hot bottom bitch that Ben's teammate Kurt was always talking about," he
said. "I shoulda known. Your ass soaks up dick and cum better than I've ever
seen."

I warmed at the compliment. "Well, it was a lot of fun taking your fuck that
day at Kurt's house, with all the other guys. I wonder why we never did it
again?"

"My boyfriend, can be kinda a prude," Alan explained. "Usually I'm the only
ass he wants to fuck. And he doesn't like it when I go out and get dick on
my own. It's just, sometimes...I gotta have it!"

I certainly knew what he was talking about...