Discovering the purpose of a glory hole

I started playing with glory holes when I was younger. Since my age always comes up, this enabled it to not matter at all, since the other person never saw who I was.

For all they knew, it was another guy, a grandma, or some other deviant.

I remember how it all got started.

One day, we were taking a family trip to the mountains. Since the drive was long and had very few rest stops along the way, I ended up having to hold it more than once. At one stop, we pulled in to gas up and I needed to go very badly. When I walked over to the female restroom, I noticed it was halfway flooded. Since no one else seemed to have been around, I went to use the male restroom instead.

Upon entering, the stench rolled over me. I gagged slightly, but I could not hold it anymore. I felt like I was about to explode. I also realized I was not alone. There were three stalls, and two urinals, and the doors to two of the stalls were closed. The middle stall had a muffled slurping sounds, while heavy breathing was coming from the last stall, although I could hear the two people trying to muffle the sound.

I found myself a bit aroused, but at the same time, my bladder was keeping my mind focused on one task only.

I went to the first stall, pulled down my panties, lifted my skirt, and promptly started relieving the entire bottle of Pepsi I picked up at the last rest stop.

As I felt more relieved and the yellow flow slowed, the sounds from the next stall started entering my consciousness again.

I was a bit shocked, thinking they would leave once they heard that someone had intruded during their playtime, but it seemed they were still going, and if anything, were getting a bit louder.

Intrigued, and because my nose was already numbed to the stench by this point, I held off on flushing the toilet as I finished. I pulled up my panties and smoothed down my skirt, then I slowly, carefully placed my feet on either side of the seat and stood up so I could see over the top of the stall next to me.

I was shocked, but not greatly, since I already suspected what was going on, to see one man on his knees in the stall, licking and slurping at a penis sticking through a hole.

The man giving the blow-job was older, in his early 40s, with black hair sprinkled liberally with grey. No where near handsome, it appeared that he at least was very proficient in what he was doing to the other man.

The penis he was sucking seemed about average. It was 6" long, circumcised, and had no distinguishing marks.

My mind immediately gave the man giving the blow-job the name Bob, for obvious reasons.

Bob would take the member into his mouth and vigorously move his head back and forth. I was almost afraid he would suddenly smack his face against the stall wall, but he seemed to be able to judge his movements perfectly. He would occasionally remove the member from his mouth and lick it up and down, then gently press the tip of his tongue against the pee hole at the tip.

He would then put it back in his mouth and start moving up and down the shaft.

Watching him, I started to feel the heat build between my legs, as my pussy started watering. Licking my lips, I imagined myself down where Bob was, sucking and licking this strangers penis that was sticking through a hole in the wall.

My hand moved slowly toward my panties, which were already starting to become wet with my own juices. I worked my fingers under the waistband and down the fur until they came in contact with my own throbbing area.

My eyes started loosing focus and I rubbed on my clit, gently at first, then with increasing urgency. I moved my hand further into my panties and started working them into my now dripping pussy. It was very quick since I was already lubricated with my own juices.

Unfortunately, unlike Bob and the mysterious penis, I lost track of where I was and started moaning. Bob's head snapped up and looked right into my eyes. The penis on the other side disappeared to frantic zipping and the sound of running feet.

Bob, realizing that not only was someone there, but that the someone was looking right at him, slammed into the door, fumbling a bit in his panic before finally getting it open and running out the door.

While I still felt a bit of the thrill, I also felt a bit of the others panic myself. I quickly pulled my hand out of my panties and almost slipped and fell into the toilet where my pee was still yellowing the water.

I flushed quickly, washed, and left the bathroom feeling unsatisfied in one way, but with my brain thinking naughty thoughts that satisfied me in another way.

I passed my dad as he was getting ready to look for me. Good timing I guess in the end, because it could have been much worse if he had walked into the rest stop bathroom while I was masturbating and two men were busy exploring each other through a glory hole.

I kept thinking of myself in Bob's place, and started thinking of how exciting it was. Unfortunately, the more I thought, the wetter I got, and it was a long ways to anywhere I could change my increasingly wet panties.

The rest, I will leave for the next post.