Glory Hole – My Guilty Secret
Tem 21, 2022 // By:analsex // No Comment
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I’m Helen, and I’m forty two years old. That’s old enough to know about human nature. We all have desires, needs that we must fulfil. Most are harmless, or are kept under control, but sometimes they become an obsession. My Uncle is a good example of taking something to its absolute limit. He’s a nice guy, but he’s also a nerd. He’s obsessed with computers. You have one, perhaps even two, but he has a garage full of them. Anything new and he has to buy it. He openly admits that it’s out of control, but he doesn’t want to stop doing it. It’s his hobby, his passion, and it gives him a lot of pleasure.
I’m like him, not in looks, but personality. I don’t just dabble, I do things to extremes. In my early teens it was stamp collecting. Within a year of starting, what I didn’t know about philately wasn’t worth knowing. But then I moved on to something else. And that was the pattern until I was eighteen. That’s when I met Jeff, my future Husband, and he initiated me into sex. And since then, it has been my one and only obsession.
I met him at a party, and I was instantly attracted to him, even though he was a lot older than me. He was handsome and charming, and it didn’t take him long to get me, the shy young virgin, into bed. He was a skilled lover, and when he’d finished with me, I knew what it was that I wanted out of life. It was to be fucked as often as possible!
You now know something about my personality, and what makes me tick, but what about my appearance? Petite is a good way to describe me. However, even though I’m not very tall, I’m still curvy, with breasts that men, even now, always take a second look at. You wouldn’t describe them as large, but they are of a sufficient size so that they look impressive on my small frame. I’m proud of them, but in my opinion, they aren’t my best feature. That has to be my face. It’s angelic. Jeff always says that it’s what got his attention when he first saw me. That might be true, but now that I know more about men, it’s more likely that it was my tits.
But how have I aged? Very well. That might sound like boasting, but it’s not. It’s just a simple statement of fact. However, it hasn’t been by good luck, it’s been by hard work. All those hours in the gym, together with my sensible diet, have enabled me to keep my figure.
When we married, all of my friends were happy for me, but I knew what they were thinking. It’s not going to last. They could see that we were in love, but they thought that the age difference was too big. But twenty four years later, we are still married, and I still love him dearly. However, Jeff being almost seventy is a problem. Age has caught up with him. Once a week, might be more than enough for him, but it isn’t for me. I know what you’re thinking. He can pop some blue pills, and we can then fuck more often. But the problem isn’t that he can’t get it up, it’s that he doesn’t want to.
When we married, the age difference wasn’t an issue. And for a long time after, our sex life was very good. But I’m not stupid, so I knew that eventually his libido would decline. Over the years it did, while mine still remained high. Then, about five years ago, it became a problem, when I started to become frustrated. The sex was still good, but it wasn’t often enough to keep me satisfied. I even spoke to him about it.
“Sorry Helen, but I’m not the young stud that I once was. There was a time when I’d walk over hot coals for sex. Now, most of the time, I’d rather sit on the sofa having a beer while watching a movie. But I’ll try and up my game.”
And for a while he did. However, we were soon back to once a week at the most, and I was frustrated again.
Six months later I had an affair. It wasn’t planned, but it was something waiting to happen. It was with a younger man that I met in a bar while I was out with friends. We flirted, and as we were leaving he handed me a note. On it was his phone number. Three days later I called him.
The sex was wonderful, and I felt fulfilled. I thought I’d found the perfect solution to my problem. I was discreet about it, being careful so that Jeff wasn’t suspicious. But unfortunately it didn’t last. I only wanted sex, but he wanted a relationship, and he even wanted me to leave my Husband for him. That’s when it got messy. So, after only a few weeks, I ended it.
Since then, I’d had other opportunities to cheat on Jeff, but I’d always resisted. I’d even managed, to some extent, to control my frustration, by the skilful use of my fingers and my trusty pocket vibrator. But it was costing me a fortune on batteries!
And, until just over six weeks ago, that’s how things were. Then something happened that changed my life.
It was a Wednesday, and it was Jasmin’s twenty fifth birthday. She was a colleague from work. I didn’t know her that well, but on impulse, when she asked me to come to her party, I said yes. And I was glad that I had. It was at a local bar, and most of those that had been invited were close to her age, so it was lively.
At eleven, I called it a day. Then, instead of hailing a taxi, I decided to mariobet güvenilirmi go for a walk. I’d drunk too much, so some fresh air might help me sober up. Half an hour later I was ready to go home. But then I saw it, a neon sign flickering in a dark alley, I just had to go and see what it was. If I’d been sober, I would never have done that. But I was curious, and the drink had made me reckless, so, without hesitating, I walked towards the light.
When I got to it, I was disappointed. It wasn’t anything exciting. The sign was just the door number, 69. The owner must have thought that because they had such a suggestive number, it would be a good idea to show it off with a red neon sign. But it wasn’t. Rather than being impressive, it was just sleazy.
Then the door opened, and in front of me now, was a man mountain. He looked mean. Like Mike Tyson, but even scarier.
In a menacing voice, he said, “Don’t just stand there looking at the sign, come in,” and then, after scowling at me, he added, “And hurry up.”
His aggression should have frightened me, but it didn’t. In fact, for some reason that I couldn’t explain, I laughed, and that bemused him. This time when he spoke, he was a lot friendlier.
“You must be new. Who sent you?”
I didn’t answer him, because I had no idea why he was asking me that. Instead, I just gave him my best smile.
After shaking his head, and then muttering something under his breath, he said, “I guess it doesn’t matter who sent you. Now I’m going to tell you about the club. And you need to listen carefully because I’m not going to repeat myself.”
He then did, and when he’d finished, I was shocked. When he moved aside, so that I could enter, I should have quickly walked away, without giving him a backward glance. But I didn’t, because I knew that if I did, it would just be delaying the inevitable. It might not be tomorrow, or next week, but sometime soon, I would be back. So I might as well do it tonight and get it over with.
The room was brightly lit, but it would have been better if it wasn’t. The paint on the walls was peeling, and there were cobwebs on the ceiling. There was quite a strong smell of disinfectant. I didn’t dare speculate on why it was being used.
While I waited, I thought about what I had been told about the club.
“You don’t get to pick, you get whoever is next on the rota. It’s a fixed fee for each half hour. If you go over, even by a second, we charge for the full thirty minutes. And we never give a refund. If you have any complaints, we don’t want to hear them. If you don’t like the rules, then you can fuck off.”
His first words hadn’t sold it to me, but what he’d said next, had.
“All our studs are under thirty, and they must have at least a seven inch cock. We don’t pay them much, because we don’t have to. They don’t work here for the money, they work here for the pussy. So you will find that they are very enthusiastic.”
And that’s why I was here, in a place that could only be described as a ‘shit hole’. Very soon, a young man was going to enter the room that was on the other side of the wall. He was then going to stick his big cock through a hole, so that he could fuck my willing pussy.
When I heard him moving about, my heart started to beat faster.
“I’m Rocky, who are you?”
That had to be an alias, and I should have used one as well. But that was hindsight, because without thinking, I gave him my real name.
“Hi, I’m Helen.”
“That’s a nice name.”
I might be drunk, but I wasn’t naive. He probably said that to all the women, but hearing him say it, had still pleased me.
“Is half an hour enough for you?”
This morning, I’d fingered myself to quite a nice climax, but it had been more than a week since I’d had cock, so thirty minutes was plenty of time. Just thinking about what he was going to do to me was making me wet. If he was any good, then I wasn’t going to last long.
“After you’ve paid me we can start.”
What I had to pay wasn’t that much. I’d spent more than that this evening on drinks. But I’d charged them to my card. With horror, I realized that I might not have enough cash. If I didn’t, then it would be very embarrassing.
As I frantically searched through my handbag, I said, out of desperation, “Do you take American Express?”
“Sorry, no we don’t. It’s cash only.”
I would have been surprised if he had said yes, but it was worth a try. But what was I going to do? Leaving, wouldn’t just be frustrating, it would be humiliating. Then I almost laughed, because I’d just remembered the notes that were hidden at the bottom of my bag. They were there for an emergency, and not having enough money to pay for a young stud to fuck me, was certainly that. But were they still there? I might have used them and then forgotten to replace them. I’d done that before. When I found them, I almost cried because I was so relieved that they were still there. Then I quickly handed them to him through the hole, without counting them.
“Thanks, that’s mariobet yeni giriş very generous of you.”
I could tell that he was genuinely pleased with the big tip that I’d given him. Hopefully it would get me a better fuck.
“So do you want me to start with your tits?”
I was eager to be fucked, but some foreplay would be nice.
The room had three holes, and you didn’t need to be a genius to work out what they were for. The bottom one was for his cock, and the top two, that were currently closed, were for my tits. However, for my tits to go through the holes, I would have to stand on something. Not a problem, because there was a wooden box in the corner of the room. It was heavy, and I had to drag it across the floor. Before stepping onto it, I took off my shoes. Standing on the box in high heels, would be asking for trouble.
As soon as the holes were opened, I bent down so that I could look into his room, but then I quickly stood up. That had been a stupid thing to do. This was a place where both participants wanted to keep their anonymity. But fortunately, no harm was done, because I hadn’t seen anything of him. He’d had the good sense to stand to one side while he opened up the holes. So what was it like on the other side of the wall? I’ll give you two guesses, but you’ll only need one!
The holes were just the right size for my tits. A more heavily breasted woman would have found them restrictive, perhaps even uncomfortable. But now, when I was ready, why wasn’t he touching them?
“You do have nice tits.”
So he’d been admiring them. And now his hand was on me, and better still, so was his mouth.
This was what I needed. He was greedily sucking on my nipple, and his fingers were doing wonderful things to the other one. I was responding by moaning loudly. And what I liked, apart from the pleasure of having my tits played with, was his eagerness. He wasn’t just doing it because he was being paid, he was also doing it because he wanted to.
After five minutes, I asked him to stop. He did, and as soon as I’d removed my tits from the holes, he closed them.
“I’ll finger you until you’re ready for my cock.”
That would be nice. No, it would be better than that, but it was now time for the main event.
“I’m ready now.”
I wasn’t just wet, I was dripping. And my pussy was on fire.
When he put his cock through the hole, I squealed with delight, and it made him laugh.
“Do you like it?”
From my reaction on seeing it, he already knew my answer, but I was still going to reply.
“Like it? I love it.”
That got another laugh from him.
It was certainly impressive. At least seven and a half inches, and thicker than most cocks. It was just what the doctor ordered!
If this was literature, then what happened next would be described in elegant prose. We would start slowly. There would be an intimacy between us. It would transcend sex, and we would become lovers. But this wasn’t literature, it was real life. It had been quick, and it hadn’t been subtle, but it had been effective.
After removing my panties, I’d bent over. As soon as my pussy was against the hole, he was pushing his big cock into me. Not stopping until all his meat was inside me. Its length and thickness took my breath away. He didn’t wait until I’d recovered, before he started fucking me furiously. Every stroke was a deep one. There was a lot of noise. Me moaning, and him grunting. I was struggling to stay upright, because when he went deep into me, he was almost pushing me over. It lasted less than five minutes, but it was wonderful, and the climax he gave me was one of my best. It started in my clit, but then it surged through my whole body. It even made my toes curl up. When it ended I was exhausted.
While making my way home, despite having enjoyed my time with Rocky, I vowed that I’d never return. It was a sleazy place that only desperate women went to. But of course, I did return. And often.
For the first few times I felt guilty, but eventually I stopped beating myself up about it. Instead, I now embrace it, accepting it as something that I need to do. I’m no longer frustrated, because I regularly go to club 69, so that I can have anonymous sex in a Glory Hole.
It’s my guilty secret!
At the weekend, we had a pleasant surprise. When I opened the door, and I saw who it was, I squealed with delight. He then hugged me tightly.
He only lived forty minutes away, but it might as well be the other side of the world. We were lucky if we saw him once a month.
“I’m pleased that you’re here, but what do you want?”
With a straight face, he said, “I’m deeply upset that you would think that I only come to see you when I need something. But while I’m here, Dad could look at my car. It’s playing up.”
Then he laughed, and I joined in.
After lunch, they worked on his car. It would take them ages, and when they’d finished, it probably wouldn’t be any better than when they’d started. But that wouldn’t matter. It was mariobet giriş as much about a Father and Son spending time together, as it was about fixing the car.
We were proud of our Son. He was the best of both of us. He’d got his good looks from his Father, and his gentle personality from me. But we had no idea where he’d got his brains from. Jeff was clever, and I’m certainly not stupid, but James was smarter than both of us put together. He was only twenty two, but he was already in the second year of his doctorate. His ambition was to work for CERN, on the Large Hadron Collider, and I’d bet big money that he’d achieve it. I just wish that he would stop being so Independent, and come and see us more often.
After three hours, they were back in the house.
“Did you fix it?”
Both of them shook their head.
Then James said, “But it’s better than it was.”
“We should buy you a new car. We can afford it.”
“Thanks Mum, but I love the one that I have.”
It was my turn to shake my head. It was always going wrong. The easy solution was to replace it. What is it with men and their cars? Like most women, to me, a car is just a means of getting from one place to another.
On Monday, the urge to go to 69, was strong, and I didn’t fight it. I finished work early, and I got to it just after five o’clock. On the door was Tim, the guy that I’d met on my first day at the club. We were now almost friends. I’d seen a softer side to him. His bark was indeed worse than his bite. But I still hadn’t got used to him being called Tim. Don’t get me wrong, that’s a perfectly good name, but it doesn’t suit him. He was a giant of a man, with rugged features. He should do what the young studs do, have an alias. He should have a bad ass name, like Axel, or Butch.
“So who’s in the hole tonight?”
“Rocky, Dizzee, and Rocco.”
“Wow! All of them together.”
“No, just one because…”
Then he stopped.
But he wasn’t laughing, and there wasn’t even the hint of a smile. However, I was in a playful mood, so I was going to tease him even more.
“I’ve never had Rocco before, I’ll pick him.”
“You know that you can’t do that. You get whoever is next on the rota.”
“I’ll make you a deal. If you let me pick him, then next time I come here I’ll bring a can of paint with me. The rooms could do with smartening up. Is pink OK?”
“No. Now get your scrawny ass inside, before I kick it down the street.”
He’d said it with menace, and I almost shat myself. I’d over stepped the mark. And now I was regretting doing it. Then he suddenly laughed, long and hard. When he eventually spoke again, he was calm.
“Two can play that game.”
I muttered a quick sorry.
“And I should apologize as well. That ass of yours isn’t scrawny. In fact, it’s the best one that I’ve seen for a long time.”
Now that was a surprise. We’d talked before, but he’d always been formal. No jokes or inappropriate comments.
“Tim, are you flirting with me?”
He took his time answering, and then he just said, “Yes.”
Now we were friends.
When I entered the room, it seemed even worse than usual. This was no high-end establishment, catering for wealthy clients. It was a dump. But it would have to be a lot worse than this, before I stopped coming here.
Good, he was the one I wanted. It had been a while since I’d had a new stud.
“And I’m Helen.”
“That’s a nice name. My Mother is also called Helen.”
That might be true, but I had no interest in knowing it. I wasn’t here to learn about his family tree, I was here for his big cock.
“Half an hour?”
It was my birthday in two days. Jeff had given me money as his present, so I was going to indulge myself. I’d tell him that I’d bought some more of the perfume that I like.
“No, an hour please. It’s my birthday on Wednesday. I’ve been given money so that I could get what I want. And this is definitely what I want.”
That made him laugh.
When he’d finished, he said, “Did you say Wednesday?”
“That’s a coincidence. It’s the same day as my Mother’s.”
I was eager to start, but I could wait a few more minutes while we continued talking.
“And what are you buying her?”
“What I always do. Her favourite marzipan chocolates. And I’ll just write in the card a single letter.”
He was waiting for me to ask about the card. Why just one, and what was the letter? I did, and with a calmness that surprised me, because I thought that I knew what his answer would be. I was right, and hearing it made my legs go weak. I had to sit down on the floor.
“When I was a child, and learning to write, all I could manage to do was M for Mummy. And ever since then, that’s all I’ve ever put in her birthday cards.”
I was now driving home, but I was finding it difficult to concentrate, because my head was spinning. After nearly crashing into another vehicle, I did the sensible thing. I pulled over.
Lots of women are called Helen. It’s a popular name. Rocco’s Mother being one of them wasn’t unusual. And it wasn’t that big of a deal that she shared a birthday with me. But when he gives his Mother, what James gives me, and when he also signs the card in that specific way, then the odds of it being a coincidence are astronomical.
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