Gloryhole

 Wow, it's been years since I posted.  Not much has changed.  I'm still married, but I've semi retired.  The hubby doesn't like it when I get with the young neighborhood boys.  It's kind of a thorny spot in our marriage, but for now we are making it work.

So, I'm no stranger to gloryholes.  They are not my favorite, but sometimes if I'm just too horny and need to get off, as a last resort, it's better that just whacking off.

But the thing is, I've never been on the other side of the sheet.  I've never been the giver.  Well, almost never.  There was one of my regular boys that wanted to try it, and put up a sheet in his apartment, then invited me over to suck his dick, which I did, but I'd sucked his dick many times before, so we knew each other, which is not really the point of the glory hole, so in my mind, it didn't count.

But, I digress.

I don't know what made me go through with making the glory hole.  It's something I had certainly thought about.  I have a laundry room that had been built onto my house decades ago, with an entrance from the driveway.  A perfect place to hang a sheet.  A sheet with a slit cut into it.

So, with my husband at work. I stapled up the sheet, and took the photo.  I posted on Sniffies.com, and change my hosting status to "A Gloryhole."

I got a few replies.  One young guy said he was on his way.  12 min away.  10 min later, I tried to check his progress.  I had been blocked, and his profile no longer available.  One guy was too heavy for my tastes.  Another was heavier than I preferred, but I still invited him over.  

It was time to cut the slit.  The perfectly good bedsheet was now permanently ruined.

The guy showed up and messaged that he was here. He made his way up the driveway, until he reached the partially open laundry room door.  A 10 inch piece of duct tape with the words "Glory Hole" written in marker was attached, just so there would be no confusion.

I watched, through the blinds, the camera on my cell phone documenting the event, as he got out of his pickup truck and marched up the driveway.  Once he passed the windows, I got into position.  The throw pillow on the floor to protect my old knees, and I waited for him to present his dick.

His dick was average size.  Flacid, maybe two inches, but I put it in my mouth nonetheless.  Just like me, small when soft, it swelled to about 6 inches, after about 2 min of sucking.  The man on the other side of the sheet remained fairly silent. After 8 minutes or so, my mouth started getting tired, and I was considering admitting defeat.

I tried using my hand for a bit, giving my mouth a break.  He didn't seem to mind.  For the next few minutes, I tried to keep a constant rhythm, alternating between hand and mouth.  He wasn't as hard as before, and I was becoming more doubtful.  But, then, I thought I detected a change in his breathing.  Yes, I think his breathing increased.  I stayed on task, and a minute later my suspicion was confirmed and he silently shot and I sucked a small wad into my mouth.

I continued to gently suck him, just how I like to be sucked, delicately teasing out the most of the orgasm.  He never said a word, or made much of a sound, all the while I had his cum in my mouth.  I had considered spitting in the sink, but the post orgasmic milking was taking so long, I just ended up swallowing.

Finally, I had enough, and pulled off  his cock.  It hung down through the hole in a semi hard state.

I wasn't sure if he knew it was over so I was the first to speak.  "All good?"

"Yah.  Thanks."

And that was it.

I went to the sink and washed my spitty hands, and gulped a little water to rinse my mouth.  I'm assuming he used the time to pull up his pants and underwear, and affix his belt.  I grabbed the phone which had been recording my side of the curtain, and brought it to the window in time to catch a glimpse of him sauntering back down the driveway to his truck.

All in all, and interesting experience.  In hindsight, I would much rather be on the other side of the curtain.  But hey, now I know what it's like to be the man on his knees.