Bizarro Gloryhole

Maria looked into Lois' eyes as she fended off the reporter's wandering hands.

"You feeling horny, baby?" she said huskily.

"Yeaaah," Lois replied.

"C'mon, then." The barmaid took her hand. "I want to show you something."

Maria took through a maintenance door in the bathroom—which, drunk as she was, she noticed was newer and sturdier than the rest of the fixtures, and had a biometric keypad. The barmaid laid her palm flat against the electronic rectangle next to the door, and the bolts unlocked with a heavy thunk.

They entered a narrow room with a window pierced at intervals with low holes. Through the window, Lois could bathroom that was the mirror floorplan of the one they had left—except for the pale porcelain trough against the far wall, which Lois eventually recognized as a urinal. It took her a moment to realize she was looking at the men's room.

Maria quietly shut the door behind her. "It won't be long now," she said, an edge of anticipation in her voice.

A man walked in. He was built like a linebacker, in an ill-fitted suit, hair a black crow's nest. The too-pale skin was cracked, uneven, almost craggy. What caught Lois' attention was when he stood, feet splayed, in front of the urinal trough and unzipped...and the pale blue tip of his pale white dick dipped below the crotch of his pants, to hang there as a pale stream exited. The reporter thought about what that monster would look like hard, and a familiar warmth began to stir in her groin.

Maria knocked on the window. The man turned his head, looked around...and now Lois gasped to see it, a long fat worm, rough and uneven in places that bulged in the middle, and hung down halfway to his knee. Even if it was shower rather than a grower, it was a bigger dick than she had ever seen in real life...bigger than any toy she'd ever played with.

Maria knocked again, near one of the holes, and gently pushed Lois to her knees in front of it. The man understood, and walked forward, dick in hand. Lois licked her lips.