In this sequel to Welcome to the Club, Mr. P, the newest member of an exclusive men’s club (for those “who enjoy the Greek side of things”) is tasked with setting up the next quarterly meeting. And by “meeting,” read gay orgy. After running into an old college buddy who’s now at the D.O.T., Mr. P is able to rent an aging interstate rest area slated for demolition. On a hot summer evening, the old men’s room will be the site of the first annual, members-only, glory hole shebang. [MM erotica, gay erotica, gay orgy, glory hole, big black cock, fellatio, oral sex, anal sex, masturbation, public sex, public nudity] (Note: This story is titled Welcome to the Club II on Amazon).
E-Read Erotica Reviews: … I actually like this one. Most all of it is anonymous male/male sex in various places, bathroom holes, chain-link fences, and just a smorgasbord of unsafe fantasy sex. It is written pretty well, and the thing I like about it is that it just does not let up. It is not something you go into expecting a grand story or a sweeping epic, this is just down and dirty by the numbers anonymous sex.
Grungy was the best word to describe the run-down public restroom—peeling paint on walls, the steel mirrors over the cracked sinks were scratched and cloudy, and the odor of bleach couldn’t conceal decades of use. One nice touch provided by the club’s decorating committee were newspaper clips hung on the wall about state police busts of perverts arrested in sting operations—sting operations operated in this rest area, where men were arrested for soliciting and performing oral sex. A nice touch.
Coolers full of ice kept water bottles and soft drinks cold on folding tables in the lobby, and a laptop and projector threw images of retro porn on the cinderblock wall.
“Dude, this is fucking brilliant,” enthused a member, his erect penis bobbing as he approached me. “Everyone’s having a blast! It’s so goddamned perverted! How did you pull this off?”
“It’s all who you know,” I replied, acting cool. “Ran into a guy I went to college with who’s now a bigwig at the D.O.T.”
I stepped inside the rest room, eager and anxious to see how the blow job extravaganza was progressing. Grunts, howls, and groans emanated from the dozen or so, metal-enclosed toilet stalls. Two men, their backs to the sinks across from the enclosures, were being serviced by men kneeling on the floor—sloppy, wet blow jobs, with loud slurps and mouth pops. Two women volunteers, nude like the rest of us, scurried about armed with towels, spray bottles of disinfectant, bottles of lube and packets of rubbers, all held in small shoulder bags. I looked down at my cock, and it rose to half-mast. I hadn’t had an orgasm in a week. The pressure in my balls was intense.
Some stalls didn’t have doors, and it was easy to walk by and see if any action was going on. Men either sat on the toilet or kneeled on towels as they serviced cocks protruding from the glory holes. In the adjacent stalls, they splayed their bodies against the cold metal walls, hands gripping the tops of the enclosures, their asscheeks clenching and unclenching as they were serviced through the glory holes.
My self-assigned job was to make sure every cock was getting sucked. I moved down the row of stalls, looking in, until I found an empty one. I stepped inside, and, sure enough, there was a straining, but unengaged penis sticking through the glory hole.
I sat on the black toilet seat, chipped and wobbly from decades of use. The penis was large, but didn’t look fully erect. I lifted it with my palm and felt its heft and heat. My experience with cocks was extremely limited—really, my only session with other men was my club initiation a few months before—and I marveled at the miracle of this huge appendage that nearly filled my hand. It pulsed and lengthened from my touch, and rose off my palm. I placed my other hand over it, and it was almost like a prayer, my hands folded over this hot, hard and throbbing penis. That such a thing could stay attached all the time, hanging between a man’s legs, always ready for a fuck or a yank, amazed me.
The glory hole was almost at mouth level, so I only had to lower my head slightly. Using a fingertip to raise it up, I took the glans inside my mouth, very gently, and held it.
I could feel the pulse jump as I held his lengthening cock in my mouth. Smiling inwardly, I tried to imagine what it must feel like, after waiting patiently for who knows how many minutes, your penis pushed through a hole in the wall, to have your half-hard cock engulfed by an unseen mouth. It was a good-sized penis, more than six inches protruding through the glory hole, and a wide girth that made it more oval than round. It was circumcised, and I started to swirl my tongue on the soft, spongy head. My hands went to the base of the shaft, and my mouth bobbed up and down on the cock.
I was sucking an anonymous cock in an interstate men’s room! Under harsh fluorescent lighting! With sounds of other men sucking and being sucked!
Without thinking, I dropped a hand to my own cock. I was rock hard. So, now, was the cock in my mouth. I could sense its owner pushing against the steel enclosure, and I could hear his feet shuffle on the floor as he pushed his body against the hard, flat surface that separated us. Holding his cock at the base, I tongued the length of his shaft, always returning to the tip, where I tortured his piss hole with my lips and tongue. I sucked his cock the way I wanted my cock sucked—when my turn came. I sucked him slowly and then fast, back and forth, alternating my mouth with my hands.
“Oh, fuck, oh goddamn, fuck, fuck,” I heard him groan, only inches away but invisible, except for his straining member.
Word count: 5,600