One time, when my partner was out for a weekend foray with friends, I decided to visit a nearby adult bookstore. I knew they had a video arcade area, and thought it would be fun to get some glory hole action. I hadn’t done this at a bookstore for over 20 years, so thought what the hell, why not?
I paid my entry fee, and headed back to the arcade area. I walked through, seeing people hanging out in the halls, and others stroking themselves in open booths, waiting for somebody to either join them or enter the booth next door for the glory holes. The atmosphere was pure sexual electricity, something I’ve come to identify in similar places, an energy that feeds my soul. It didn’t take long for me to lock eyes with somebody I was instantly attracted to. We talked for a minute about what each was looking for: bingo, a match! He was there to get sucked, I was there to devour dick!
He headed for one of the bigger booths where we could both go, which at first disappointed me because I was looking forward to the glory hole fantasy fulfillment. That feeling quickly faded as we started a movie playing and he presented his gorgeous cock to me! I promptly dropped to my knees and went to work. He was hot and lasted a very long time (sore jaws I hadn’t experienced in some time came later). At one point I heard him striking a lighter and figured he was smoking a cigarette. When he was finally finished with quite an impressive eruption, we relaxed and started to get ready to leave.
Suddenly he started getting agitated and was looking around the small booth for something, checking the floor, his pants, underwear, everywhere. He kept saying he knew he dropped it but couldn’t fix it. I asked what “it” was but he never did answer me. He was acting pretty creepy, but then wanted me to go with him to his hotel after he went out to the patio to smoke a cigarette. I decided he was acting too weird and left the store instead. Besides, I had to get to the barber shop before they closed! I’m on foot, so I walk the half mile or so to the barber shop. Once there, while waiting my turn, I had an itch so scratched my head. There was something in my hair! I pulled it out to realize what it was the guy at the bookstore had lost. I pulled a pellet sized rock of crack out of my fucking hair! I quickly went to the bathroom to flush the damn thing and make sure that was it. Damn the experience had been hot but ended with quite the damn bang!
So that, dear readers, is the story of how I was once, quite literally, a crackhead for an afternoon!
Until next time,