My Neighbor’s Glory Hole

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My Neighbor’s Glory Hole (bi)

Waiting for my wife I wasted my time watching tv. When she wasn’t working at the hospital I didn’t waste my time. She had plenty for me to do.

So on work nights, with time on my hands, I started to notice a pattern. Guys would pull up and go into my neighbor’s garage without going to the front door first.

I watched with keen but perplexed interest. They would be in there for ten to thirty minutes then just leave. Sometimes it would be three guys a week and sometimes more. Always guys. Always the same.

One day while cutting the grass, (only diagonal lines, just the way she wanted) I snuck into his yard to peek through his dingy garage window. Everything looked just like a garage would look until I noticed a hole in the door between the garage and the house.

It was a small mystery.

I asked Mike if I could borrow his lawnmower once, pretending mine was broken. We went into his garage and I looked closely at the door. There was a coca-cola poster covering the spot where I thought I’d seen the hole. Maybe I just saw the round top of a coke can?

Another time I was in his house, returning a hacksaw I’d borrowed. I asked to use the restroom and on my way I “accidentally” went down the hall to the garage. Sure enough I saw that hole bored through the door.

Later, I went online and searched for information. “Hole in door” resulted in many sites telling how to fix a hole in a door.

“Hole in door men” resulted in mostly random stuff with one exception. This exception was advice on how to have anal sex in the backdoor. I decided it was unrelated. But it got me thinking and going down a rabbit hole. And if I admit it, seeing how many people were into it, it normalized the act of butt sex in my mind and all these websites were saying it felt great. It opened my thinking to maybe agree to my wife’s insistent desire to put her nurse things up my ass.

I didn’t bring it up or approach her with my newfound acceptance. But the next time she tried something I just wasn’t as adamantly opposed. We were in bed and as she was fiddling with my nipples it was turning me on greatly. I’m sure that was a factor. So then she pushed on my side, to get me to roll over. This is where I would normally start to object, but this time I let her turn me on my stomach.

She tried to be sneaky by reaching between my legs and massaging my balls sensually. I relaxed into the mattress, spreading my legs to give her access. “Ethan, as a nurse, I can tell you that coffee has great health benefits, there’s liver detoxification, immune boosting, and people even use it to treat cancer.” She was quietly rubbing her little pinky on my taint, getting closer and closer to my back door. “It’s a simple thing to do it as an enema, then think how healthy you’ll be?”

Annoyed, I lifted my head, “You keep trying to get me to do weird stuff. Stuff that’s just way out of bounds, more than any normal people do.”

She looked at me with a sideways grin, “What if we just did something normal back there?”

I let my head drop down on the mattress again. I acted as if I had finally resigned myself to giving in to her wishes. But I was actually curious and wondered if I might like it, “Ohhh, alright. You can do something small and normal.” I spread my legs just a little wider, turning my ankles outward.

She practically shrieked for joy. Sitting up she rummaged around in the night table where she kept all her nurse/patient sex toys. In an instant she pulled her hand out, “These are small and EVERYBODY does them.” And the next thing I knew she was stuffing these plastic beads on a string up my bum. It didn’t feel amazing, but it wasn’t bad either. I didn’t really believe it was normal, but it was nice to see her so happy.

Next she announced, “Ok, it’s time for the best part. Up on your knees.” I let her put me on all fours. She started jacking off my cock, bringing me closer to an orgasm. The big surprise was when I was just about to cum she started pulling and popping the beads out of my ass one by one. I shot my cum out like a rocket. It was intense. The best handjob ever.

Slumped with my shoulders down and my ass still up I hated to admit it, “Ok, you were right. It was really good.” And so butt play became a thing that we did. Well, with my butt anyway.

Mulling it around for a couple days, later I entered, “hole in door sex” into the search engine. This time many videos came up showing sexy women sucking cock through a hole in a door. The videos were highly erotic and the idea of being serviced by one of those women through a door was unrelentingly hot.

So, another day I was home alone waiting until my wife, Cora, came back from her late shift. She told me repeatedly that I should always wait for her. But she didn’t always want sex at the same time I did. So I stroked one out. My tiny load dribbled out, dripping onto my hand and belly. Oh, to be young again when it would shoot big gobs straight escort kartal up at least four inches but sometimes as high as a couple feet. I longed for those days. I cleaned up with tissue, flushing the evidence of my solitary indiscretion.

The next night was one of her days off. Images of nude women kneeling in front of doors, sucking cocks, filled my mind. When I kissed her lips my thoughts were of her with her lips wrapped around a big cock protruding through a glory hole. I said nothing. Never in a million years would she do that. This was the struggle she and I had. This was the complete opposite of who she was. I had to shake myself when my mind turned it around so it was her telling me to kneel in front of a door. I didn’t want her to win even in my imagination.

After that gay thought, I needed to reclaim my manhood, I laid her back on the bed: kissing her prone and hopefully submissive body all over. This might be the moment I exerted MY dominance.

She let me delight in her body until I got ready for penetration. I was foolish to have dreamed that she would have gone for that scene, “Ethan, haven’t I showed you better? I need to be on top.”

“What if you don’t? I can be on top sometimes.”

“Don’t be silly. You can cum whether you’re on the top or the bottom. I can only cum when I’m on top.” She pushed me over, rolling until her body covered mine. Rocking her hips she scissored her legs on my cock, letting her smooth thigh-skin caress me until it grew and she could work it into her pussy. Sometimes she rode me cowgirl. But she preferred this position, the one she called ‘inverted missionary.’ Her claim was that missionary was the traditional patriarchal position so this was the remedy. Regardless, my cock loved her pussy no matter what and in no time I was pushing my dick up into her body in the throes of passion.

The next day was a shift day for her. I had time to ponder my neighbor, and call me slow, but while doing that internet search on doors my thoughts continued to be in disbelief that there was no woman living in Mike’s house to suck off all those men.

Then it dawned on me that Mike might be gay. Though I’d seen him date women before and he was nothing if not manly and aggressively Alpha, it was a wild explanation. But then again, there was no way he was a cock swinger.

I put it out of my mind until yet another evening I happened to see a guy creep furtively into Mike’s garage. The thought popped into my head to confront the guy when he came out: to make him tell me what he did in there.

I dashed out the door, not even sure if it closed properly. I avoided the oil spot my wife’s car left on the driveway then scurried across the street. I milled around outside waiting. This guy would come out in ten to thirty minutes. I hoped for ten.

It was only thirty seconds later when the guy came rushing past me and left before I could stop him. But he left the side garage door ajar.

I peeked inside. There was light streaming into the garage from the house. Cautiously, I approached the hole.

Would there somehow be a woman behind that hole? A fleeting image of Cora flashed through my mind. In my imagination she didn’t actually leave for work. Instead she was kneeling behind that door several times a week. It was a stupid intrusive thought. I mean, she brought home a steady paycheck. My mind was crazy.

Furthermore, she wasn’t at all subservient. In fact, she and I struggled for control constantly in our relationship. If anything she would want ME behind that door. Anyway, most likely Mike was a secret cocksucker?

As I stood next to the hole, Mike spoke, “I thought you gave up. But I’m glad you’re still here.” I didn’t know what to say to that. He thought that stranger was still here.

Mike continued, “Tap the door if you want to continue. He didn’t know it was me – I tapped just to see what would happen.

Mike brought his mouth close to the hole. I knew it!

He said, “Tap twice for blowjob. Tap thrice for anal.”

I was at a crossroads. Not about tapping twice or thrice. But about tapping at all. Getting a blowjob from a hot chick behind a door would be fantastic. Heck, getting a BJ from an ugly girl would be just fine too. And Cora only gave blowjobs when they fit into her authority kink. You know, it’s not often that a dominant wife gives blowjobs. Having her pussy eaten fit her artifices more fully.

Mike hissed, “Tap it, dude.” Impulsively, I obeyed, tapping it twice. Dropping my pants, I decided to step out of them and lay them over a nearby bench while he blew me. It would be bad if some evidence spilled on my pants.

I folded them nicely, placing them on the bench, but when I looked up, Mike’s cock was emerging through the hole into my side. I’d understood it all wrong.

Instantly, I turned to go. Then pivoted back to collect my pants. In my haste my hand brushed against his cock. It was hot, smooth, soft, bayan escort and hard all at the same time. But most importantly, unbelievably large. And he had gasped when my hand accidentally grazed it.

I gawked in awe. I didn’t know cocks got that large. I didn’t know they felt so hot and sexy.

“Come on, man, touch it again.”

I did want to see if it really felt as hot as I first thought. Purely as a scientific experiment I reached out with a single finger and placed it on the head.

Wow! It was burning hot, like fever-hot. And the head was spongey.

“You’re amazing. Touch it again. Wrap your hand around it.”

He thought I was amazing? Gingerly I wrapped my hand around the pole. It WAS hard! And it throbbed.

“If you tug it you can milk a drop out.” Really? So soon? So I tried. With the very first pull I gave it, a clear drop emerged. The drop was big. It slowly stretched, then dripped to the floor. This was crazy! I never dripped so soon.

I wanted to see another. Sure enough, I milked another, then another drop out. Each of them successively falling to the floor and gathering in a pool. All the while he was crooning softly and telling me how good I was. Cora never told me how good I was. Instead she told me I was a bad boy and tried to use it as an excuse to ‘punish’ me. So far I had resisted successfully and never been punished.

Then it felt gay when he suggested I start the BJ. Instantly I dropped his cock, heading for the door. I was still holding my pants and when I stopped to put them on, he begged. “You can’t leave me like this. It’s been days and my balls are so blue they ache.”

Frozen, I failed to zip up. I’ve heard how bad blue balls are. He was pleading, “I need relief. Anything. A handy. You just can’t torture me like this. I’m dripping just from what you started and it won’t be long until I blow a cup-load halfway across the room.” The image was mesmerizing. If he hadn’t said ‘cup-load’ I would have been gone.

Even from here I could see a string of bewitching goo stretching from his big mushroom halfway to the floor. I did that! I was responsible. I could finish what I started and it would be so cool to see it fly halfway across the room.

I noticed a short stool and the legs screeched on the floor as I pulled it over to sit on it. The dripping spooge was fascinating from up close. First a string would grow long, and then hit the floor with a splat. As I milked his beast another drop would form and elongate. There was so much! And while the ick was getting on my hand, it was worth it to watch it magically emerge.

Cora got my mess on her hand sometimes too, but it was usually as a part of what she called a ‘ruined orgasm.’ I hated it when she ruined my orgasms. But we had a tense deal. The times when she deprived me like that were followed a day or two later by a partial blowjob – not to completion.

I pumped his magnificent cock for an agonizingly long time. It was like eight inches long so I brought my other hand to bear its weight. Just when I’d thought I’d seen the biggest cock ever, the fucking thing snaked out another three inches. This had to be the sign that he was gonna shoot.

I scootched my stool to the side so it wouldn’t hit me when it flew. But he didn’t cum. His tool was just bigger and harder and more menacingly beautiful.

Gazing at it from the side it was the same length as my arm from elbow to wrist except now it supported its own weight.

I stroked and stroked and my arms grew tired: he was taking so long. At this rate I was gonna have to go without seeing the main event. Then Mike begged, “Kiss it. Just kiss the side and you’ll make me finish.” I would never abandon his cock, never ruin a man’s orgasm.

I so badly wanted him to finish and shoot half a cup across the room. And the side wasn’t threatening like the gooey end. It was dry and soft, just skin, and there was no harm in a little kiss. That’s what Cora told me when she made me kiss her vibrator. She also told me that, unlike this, anything that happens between a man and a woman is straight by definition. This was yet another area of conflict between us. Why couldn’t we just fuck like normal couples?

His cock was right there, a mere four inches from my face. I leaned in, then faltered. He said it would make him finish. I glanced to my left gauging how far his cum would land. On impulse I gave it a peck, then backed off watching and waiting for the spurts.

Of course nothing happened. Unless you count the deep soulful moan I heard escape my neighbor’s lips. I stroked faster and kissed it again, except that this time I let my lips linger. I pumped and kissed and watched for the cum-shot. None came.

Maybe if I moved my other hand to his nutsack?

I caressed those hairy orbs. I stroked the long shaft with my best technique. And when I kissed the side I allowed my lips to part just a little. It tasted surprisingly good. Better than my wife’s tit and escort maltepe just as soft. But still no show.

Mike was getting desperate to cum and I was getting desperate to see it. I tugged his sack. I shifted to a milking action with my strokes. And when I kissed the side of his log I ran my tongue along most of the length. I swear it gave a jerk.

I couldn’t stop now, even if I was late getting home. Picking up the pace I tugged, I stroked, and I wrapped my lips as far around the side of his sausage as I could. Running my tongue along the shaft I rained kisses from the root to within an inch of the scary leaking head. It started jerking regularly so I knew I was onto something.

My hand was getting wet with goo and the goo was being spread onto his shaft. It had to happen, but the next time I ran my mouth up the side a wetness permeated my mouth. It was shockingly sweet and syrupy. And good.

It didn’t taste at all like when my cum got on Cora’s hand and we would wrestle, me trying to avoid having my aborted ejaculate forced into my mouth. Every time she did her little power trip she promised me that the next time we had sex it would be with her on the bottom. But then she would make excuses and avoid any sex at all until I was so desperate I would give up my claim.

The next time my mouth grew close to Mike’s cockhead I looked forward to tasting the cummy froth. I closed the distance to the crown, tonguing the ridge which I found to have a very different texture.

Rubbery and coated in sticky nectar I found myself licking all around the crown until there was no denying that I was sucking his cockhead, like, only from the side. Mike’s response was to let loose with a list of sexy encouraging compliments. Cora was different, she would have berated me like she was prone to do. Though she wouldn’t mean it, it was a game to her.

I’d been here so long my back was starting to hurt in this position. The stool screeched as I shifted to sit in front of Mike’s big drooling mushroom. I doubted I could open wide enough to get the penile clementine into my mouth but I was definitely gonna mouth the end till just before he was ready to erupt. Then I would feel it jerk and I would pull off at the last second. My reward would be seeing that long spurt.

I was wrong. The bulb did fit in my widely stretched mouth. I circled my tongue round and round eliciting delightful groans from my alpha neighbor.

I was able to get the entire helmet into my mouth but barely any of the shaft. I sucked hard. I treated his nutsack to my best fingering. And I slurped carelessly, oblivious to the cocksucking sounds I was making.

Together we filled the garage with moans and obscene noises until it happened.

His guttural signs of pleasure didn’t change in the slightest to warn me. His cock didn’t snake out any longer. His balls didn’t draw up tight. But his cum did bounce off the back of my mouth with a sharp thwack.

Two or three shots hit me before I had the wherewithal to pull off. With a mouth full of thick cum I flinched and recoiled, not able to avoid the splats that stained my blue shirt with a darker wetness.

A huge white creamy splat slid down my front. I wiped it with my hands but that only spread it and covered my fingers with goo as well.

Pushing back, the stool’s legs screamed as I spit on the floor adding to the sizable spot already there.

I found a handy rag and did my best to wipe up all the nasty cum. It was on my face, in my hair, and running down my neck. Wiping the stuff from my pants I even found some on my erection which stood up straight. I didn’t even know I had an erection. But I’m not gay.

Sprinting for the door I threw the rag on the floor in a panic. I ran through the open side door, only stopping at the curb to look both ways before crossing the street.

There driving away were my wife’s tail lights. Confused, I walked up my drive realizing that I had in fact left the front door to my house open in my haste. How long had I been pleasuring Mike’s cock? Wasn’t ten to thirty minutes the norm?

In the house I changed my clothes, soaking the old ones in the utility sink in the basement. It was gross. It was disgusting. It had to become a bad memory.

When the phone rang I answered it, “Ethan, is everything ok?”

“Yea, why wouldn’t it be?”

“The front door was wide open. And when I called in you didn’t answer.”

“I went outside to pick up some garbage on the front lawn. But it had something gooey on it so I was in the basement washing my hands.”

“But the door?”

“I didn’t want to get garbage on it. Where are you?”

“I was afraid. But I’m coming home now.”

Fear must do things to her. Even after a long shift she was more alluring than I’d seen her in a long time. I reasoned that fear was the antithesis of dominance. With a lot of begging she agreed to a quick romp. I needed her that night. And I was even on top for the first time in years.

A few days later she was working the late shift again and from my recliner I could see a car drive up and park in Mike’s drive. How did the cocksuckers know? What did the cocksuckers know? Hastily, I wrote a note, dashed out the door and left it on the guy’s windshield.

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