Back To the Glory Hole

Lois took the dark stairs, back up to the club. The movement of her thigh up the step set her pussy lips to rub against each other, heightening her desire. She had never understood the idea of burning desire, but now she was getting an idea...it was like a liquid heat beneath the skin, like blushing except between her legs...an area of warm, feverish heat between her legs, spreading gently over her buttock, and deep, deep within.

She gained the top of the air and passed into the club. The reporter could almost taste the air, a mix of **** and stale sweat, the animal odor of bodies pressed into a mall space, warm and wet. Lois breathed gently through her mouth as she made a byline for the restroom...there was a line in front of the ladies' room, not uncommon in clubs, but the men's room was empty...

Lois told herself she hated what she was about to do. Yet the animal heat of the club had only made her unnatural excitement worse. Her pussy actually ached, muscles working involuntarily, trying to milk a cock that wasn't there. She felt the kegel spasm as she walked toward the door, and the long slow drip of her juices slowly drip out of the bottom of her pants, as though he had wet herself...but Lois knew what it really was, and what she needed. What compelled her to place her hand against the door beneath the bifurcated stick figure, to cross the threshold and let it shut behind her...

The bathroom was bright, lit by fluorescent bulbs. Lois blinked as she took in the unfamiliar white porcelain slabs attached to the wall in a row, running all the way down to the floor...and then recognized what they were, and blushed. There were stalls too...the doors open, apparently uninhabited...except for the very first one, where three holes were set into it, at about waist height. It was different from the glory hole in the women's room: there you had to go into one of the neighboring stalls to stick your cock through, allowing a bit of privacy, here...

Lois flushed as she imagined some frat boy finishing a long piss, then eyeing one of the waiting holes...and turning to stride right over there, without even tucking their dripping pecker back in or wiping it off, to let the slut on the other side lick and slurp and suck them clean...to feel their dicks get hard and wet, and then buck a little against the hard black plastic wall as their nuts tightened and they shot their load into the unseen honeys beyond...

The reporter's knees weakened a little, as she pictured herself waiting, waiting, mouth open, drooling on the first strange mushroom head to poke through...and then she noticed the knees.

There was about a foot of gap between the floor and the bottom wall of the stall. Two pairs of naked knees were visible on the dirty porcelain, positioned in front of the holes...there were scabs on those knees, and dark bruises and that spoke of long use kneeling on the hard tile. Lois went to the stall door. She tugged on it, gently...