("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2012. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Gloryhole On The Monmouth Services by Lesley (ouirup4it@yaho.co.uk) *** A conversation with guy on the internet leads to fulfilling his fantasy in a service station toilet. (MMF, bi, oral, glory) *** It's almost 9.0pm and I'm driving from Usk towards Monmouth looking out for the services. The light is just beginning to fade and I have the headlights on. My stomach knots as the entrance comes into view. I ease the car off the highway and follow the access road round to the car park and come to a halt in front of the entrance doors as instructed. There are only a couple of other cars and a transit van parked up but four or five wagons in a separate area fifty yards or so away. Ordinarily on such a warm evening I would have had the top down on the car but was a little unsure how things were going to develop, so the hood was up. In tribute to the weather I wore a thin pale blue sun dress with string shoulder straps. Underneath, nothing except a minuscule thong and the garter belt with light tan seamed stockings as requested. White heeled sandals and a clutch bag completed my outfit. Also as asked, I wore my dark hair in a ponytail and had been heavy with the make-up and the lipstick. My mobile phone rang. Heart bumping I pressed the answer button. His voice said, 'Go on, it's clear,' and disconnected. Switching off the engine, I sat suddenly nauseous. My husband would go crackers if he knew what I'd agreed to do. Don't get me wrong. He'd have no moral objections, only reservations about safety and the level of risk involved. He was away for a couple of weeks and now I'd allowed my treacherous curiosity and 'try anything once' attitude to overcome common sense. A couple of years earlier I'd struck up a telephone acquaintance with a lorry driver, at least that's what he told me he was. I'd arranged to meet him via an advert in a contact mag but he'd stood me up. Ringing to 'sort him out' had resulted in regular chats of a risque nature. In one exchange of fantasies he told me his favourite turn-on's were stories of glory holes. I at the time hadn't a clue what he was on about but when he described what happened etc., I admitted I found it sordidly intriguing and that I might be tempted to give it a go. Last week he told me he'd found one on one of his runs up into Wales. He guessed it was mainly used by gay men but said he'd not ever encountered anyone there when he had checked it out. Twenty minutes of extremely fruity banter and here I am about to step into his fantasy and make it reality. Another car swings into the car park. I'd better make a move or the 'all clear' I'd been given would be history. I swivelled out of the car, a light breeze, cool on my legs and lifting the hem of my dress as I crossed the car park to the entrance lobby of the services. Through the swing doors. As he had described, the Little Chef and Burger King on the right, toilets on the left, shop through the lobby. Catching my reflection in the Little Chef window I approved of how I looked. The silky dress hung nicely on my size ten figure and showed off my 36A's perfectly. Not bad for fortyish I thought but probably not an issue considering the current venture. Taking a deep breath I headed for the toilets. A quick glance over my shoulder to check no one was following and turned left at the end of the corridor into the Gents. Crossing the room quickly, my heart pounding and the sound of my heels on the floor crashing in my head I noted there was no one at the urinals, before gaining the sanctuary of the designated centre cubicle of three. Closing the door behind me, the lock worked thank goodness, I put the seat lid down and sat on it. After a few seconds I felt secure enough to examine my surroundings. To all intent and purposes a normal toilet, a bit shabby, not well lit with more graffiti than you would get in the women's but passably clean with a heavy aroma of Jeyes fluid. It could have been worse I mused. The only significant feature was a hole in the partition between this and the adjacent cubical on the left. This was the reason I was here. It was just big enough to put your hand through and sitting on the seat I could just about lean forward enough to look into the neighbouring toilet or place my mouth in front of it, The hole edges were a bit rough and it had clearly been hacked out with a penknife or some such. In the increasingly salacious conversations that proceeded tonight, I had agreed to try to be 'on station' in this cubicle from 9.0pm and to stay here for at least an hour. He, (and I had agreed in the heat of the fantasy) wanted it to be an authentic experience, where maybe he would not be my only, or even the first punter that I would pleasure at the 'hole.' As the seconds ticked by I was becoming more anxious and this seemed less and less a good idea. Not a turn on at all. Then came the sound of approaching footsteps, squeaking on the floor. I found myself holding my breath as I listened to make out any signs of interest. Could they see my sandaled feet under the door? Would they inform the proprietors etc? It was just possible to make out the sound of a guy peeing at the urinal, then washing his hands. The sound of the hand dryer. Then his shoes squeaking away into the corridor. Then there was a cough. Someone must have entered the gents while the hand dryer was running. He? was at the urinal I could hear the trickle of the waste pipe. The sound of the tap. He was moving very quietly. Then the door of the cubical to my left clicked shut. Unsure of the protocol I sat still on the toilet seat frightened to move, my eyes focused on the hole. After what seemed an age, a stubby finger traced the edge of the hole then another. I watched the hand circling the edge of the hole then in the air on my side of the partition. Thinking 'It's now or never' I shifted my knee into range of the groping fingers. They came to rest on my knee, tracing the surface of my stocking as they had the inside of the hole in the cubicle. Sliding up the inside of my leg the advance of the hand was halted by the restriction of the aperture just at the top of my stocking. To facilitate its exploration I stood up and in front of the hole. It resumed its upward progress, pausing only momentarily encountering real flesh, before probing at the silky thong. Without ceremony the flimsy scrap of material was pulled aside and with only minimal assistance from me (shuffling my legs apart) two or three digits thrust their way along and in and out of my cunt. He spoke quite softly but clearly in a valleys accent 'you're a woman, then.' I didn't respond. 'thought you might be a cd or a tranny.' His hand withdrew and a light shone thro' the hole. He had a torch shining into my crotch. It was then I realised I was holding up the hem of my dress so he had an uninterrupted view. Shuffling my feet till they were under his side of the partition I pressed my groin to the hole, parting the folds of my fanny to reveal the inner flesh. I felt his fingers push briefly in. It was difficult holding the position against the wall. Then his tongue lapped up and down my slit. In reality it was not great but it felt really dirty and I was beginning to get off on it. The tonguing stopped. I kept myself, dress up round my waist, pressed against the hole waiting for it to resume. For an instant I thought his fingers were opening me up again then I realised it was a prick sliding easily into me. 'Bloody hell' I thought stepping back. 'Wait' I hissed. I'd made up my mind anything not wearing a mack was only going in my mouth. Grasping the disembodied weapon, I happily observed it was already sheathed for action. 'Ok' I thought, 'here goes.' Turning my back on the hole and guiding the twitching member, with one hand I reversed back onto it until my behind felt the cool of the partition wall. The anonymous cock began a spasmodic assault on my cunt, accompanied by the suppressed grunting of its owner. It's probably not ideal as an arrangement being up against a flat wall for the bloke and after a couple of minutes the prick withdrew. As I turned round, it reappeared jutting through the hole, the condom taught around its bulbous end. Rolling the slick sheath off, I squatted face to the wall and lowered my mouth over the dick, cupping the hairy balls in one hand. The knob was circumcised and fat, bulging my cheeks but overall not so long I couldn't get it all in my mouth without gagging. I'm not that good at the deep throat stuff, but enjoy sucking cock. Whoever was on the other side of the partition wasn't complaining as I worked my lips up and down his shaft. In the quiet of the toilet all you could hear was the slurping of my mouth on this anonymous cock and the restrained but tense murmurs of approval from the other cubicle. These became tenser and the dick seemed to push even further into my cubicle before it throbbed and pumped its salty snot into my mouth. He was not a big comer and I swallowed down easily each spurt. Within seconds the cock began to wither. It pulled out and retreated through the hole. There was a brief shuffling, the sound of a zipper, the door latch of the adjacent booth rattled and I was on my own again. I laughed, 'Well thanks for everything,' and sat down again on the seat of the toilet. I tried not to look at my watch as I waited on events. It seemed extremely quiet. Someone came to the urinal and left. Without washing his hands I noticed. Then two sets of footsteps approached and came into the gents. There was some whispered conversation, followed by someone entering the recently vacated toilet. The door latch rattled shut. Again I held my breath in anticipation. Deciding to move things along I put my hand to the edge of the hole and beckoned. I was immediately rewarded with a hot cock being pushed into my grasp. Drawing it back into my side of the partition I looked at it in the gloomy light. It was uncut, slender probably longer than its evenings predecessor. After a few perfunctory manipulations with my hands I dropped my mouth over it. It was rock hard, hot in my mouth and I bobbed my face up and down on it with all the energy I could apply. The owner of this now pulsing rod was muttering something or other and I realised that he was not talking to me and that he was not alone in the next cubicle. There were two guys in there. Must be a squeeze I thought and wondered if they were gay, continuing to lavish my attention on the cock in hand. Pushing down over the prick till it made me gargle nudging the back of my throat I was imagining the scene the other side of the wall. The elegant cock suddenly withdrew, to be immediately replaced by a short fat stumpy number complete with very hairy bollocks all thrust into my side of the partition. Resuming where I had left off, with this new dick, it was not long before its owner was making suppressed but audible groans. As I worked up a lather on the stumpy knob, it occurred to me that the rhythm of his appreciation was not entirely synchronised with my efforts but also with a perceptible push of the genitals into my face. The guy was being buggered as I sucked him off. 'Lucky sod' I thought, the idea firing me up. Locating my bag, I retrieved a condom and rolled it onto the angry knob. Turning round and slipping off my thong, I backed up reaching between my legs to guide myself onto it. Thick as it was, my cunt opened up eagerly and my arse nestled against his balls and the cool formica. Bracing on the opposite wall I gyrated on the cock as rhythmically as I could. A combination of grunts and twitches indicated he'd shot his load after only a few minutes. The stubby prick had retreated to its own side of the partition by the time I turned round and the slim tool I had previously gobbled reappeared, this time slick with the juice from its recent scabbard. I grasped it. It was slippy and softening. Squatting, I lowered my lips to it. It smelt of sweaty cock and the other guys arse. Luxuriating in the squalor of the moment, I drew the slimy flaccid sausage into my mouth and once again began to give it the treatment. Frigging myself with one hand, the other against the wall for balance, the cock returning to hardness against my tongue I raced the cocks owner to a conclusion. Abruptly the now rigid prick, withdrew. A clean shaven mouth appeared at the hole and whispered 'push your tit through the hole.' Although I was wary of this I knelt on the floor slipped the straps of my dress over my arms and offered my left breast to the hole. The mouth licked the engorged nipple and sucked as much flesh into it as it could. I could feel the rough sides of hole grazing my skin as the mouth pulled the whole of my breast through to its side. Two mouths competed then to suck and bite (quite gently) at my protruding tit. I heard some sniggering as I prostrated myself to the wall. A sensation of warm fluid on my tit. The other guy must have emptied his condom on me. Followed by firm kneading as they pushed their pricks into the flesh of my breast. Cautiously I pulled away from the wall, my breast, which is not at all pendulous, stretching as it dragged against the abrasive edges of the hole. There was further indecipherable muttering from next door. I bent to look through the hole. The mouth there, muttered 'put your arse to the hole.' Placing my nether regions over the hole, I immediately began to squirm as one set of fingers reamed my cunt, while two or three others probed my arse ring. God knows what they used to lubricate it, but in seconds I was pushing on the hand in my fanny as fingers delved and opened up my rectum. 'Put a condom on,' I grunted under the onslaught and turned back to the hole putting my hand through demanding a cock. The long slim one slipped into my hand, again softening. Drawing it through the hole, I sucked it back to firmness for the third time and rolled a rubber onto it. Resuming my previous stance I braced myself on the opposite wall as 'whoever' drove his prick into my anal cavity. Somehow the other guy managed to get some fingers alongside his accomplices bollocks and onto my clit. He knew what he was doing and I was soon writhing to his tune as the tool slid firmly and relentlessly in and out my bumhole. It slowed down, then as I began to shudder into an orgasm, jabbed at my arse with a frenzy. I managed to stay on my feet feeling his cock twitching inside me. Before he was done I turned to roll off the condom and jerk and gobble him to a finish, taking his spunk on my face and tits. Reaching in, he spread the goo over both my breasts pinching the nipples before withdrawing. The short stubby cock reappeared. Seating myself on the toilet seat, more out of duty than anything, I sucked him again, fisting his thick prick till it to spat its musky stuff onto my face and neck. I sat back on the toilet seat, dress up round my waist, bare breasted, stockings, for whose benefit they were . I don't know?, dirty and laddered. sperm in my hair and congealing on my face and breasts. A great picture and I thought and an interesting evening without any unpleasantness. If my telephone contact had not been one of those guys then he had missed out. I had fulfilled my part of the bargain and was ready to make a run for it. I waited hearing my partners from the next cubicle shuffle and mutter then, I think a gruff 'thank you' before the latch rattled and their footsteps quickly died away in the corridor. Slipping my arms back into the straps, I made myself shipshape, determined not to acknowledge anyone I encountered as I left. Opening the cubicle door I walked quietly to the door of the gents and then straight out to the car. Not waiting around I started the car and headed for home. Parked up about an hour later at Strensham the mobile rang. It was him. 'You've been busy,' he said. 'I came across twice to see if there was anything doing, but you were already in action, maybe you'll tell me about it later.' Maybe I will but I'm not sure I'll be doing that again. Things may not run so smooth next time. END * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world contract HIV every year. You only have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Kristen's collection - Directory 72