I had been out with the guys for what felt like hours, pounding back shots and beers until the world blurred around the edges. The bar was packed, pumping with music that vibrated through my chest. I remember thinking how great it felt to be alive, to be young and unstoppable. My buddies were egging me on, daring each other to do stupid shit—hell, we were all game. It was one of those nights where you knew you’d regret some of it in the morning, but in that moment, you didn’t give a fuck.

“You ever try a glory hole?” Steve asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He was always the instigator, the one who pushed us just a little further than we might have gone on our own.

“Nah, man, that’s not really my thing,” I replied, shaking my head. I was straight as an arrow, never even considered anything else. But Steve just laughed, leaning in close so I could hear him over the noise.

“It’s just a thrill, dude. No one knows who’s on the other side. Could be a guy, could be a girl. You don’t know until you try.”

Chris chimed in with a grin, “Yeah, come on, man. We’re all doing it. Just once. For the story.”

I hesitated, but only for a second. The alcohol was speaking louder than my common sense, and before I knew it, I was nodding along. What the hell, right? It was just another notch on the belt of wild stories we’d tell later.

The place they led me to was tucked away in the back corner of the building, hidden behind a heavy curtain. Inside, it was darker, quieter, almost like entering a different world. There were several small rooms, each separated by thin plywood walls. The air was thick with tension, a mix of anticipation and desperation.

Steve pointed to one of the doors, giving me a playful nudge. “Go ahead, your turn.”

I stumbled inside, the door clicking shut behind me. The room was cramped, barely enough space to move. On the wall opposite me was a small hole, maybe six inches across. I stared at it, feeling a knot of nervousness twist in my gut. This was it, the moment of truth. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

“Well, here goes nothing,” I muttered to myself, reaching down to unzip my jeans. My cock was already half-hard, responding to the excitement of the unknown. I maneuvered myself closer to the hole, angling my hips just right. The cool air on my dick made me shiver, an odd mixture of fear and arousal coursing through me.

I poked my dick through the hole, feeling a rush of adrenaline as I did. Seconds passed, agonizingly slow, before a warm hand closed around my shaft. My breath caught in my throat, and I leaned forward, instinct driving me to push deeper into whatever was happening. The hand started moving, stroking me slowly at first, then picking up speed. It felt incredible, better than I expected.

“Fuck…” I groaned, closing my eyes and letting the pleasure wash over me. The hand was skilled, knowing exactly how to squeeze and pull to make me squirm. My hips began to thrust reflexively, seeking more friction, more contact. The owner of the hand must have sensed this because they adjusted their grip, matching my rhythm perfectly.

“Oh god… that feels so good,” I mumbled, losing myself in the sensation. My mind was foggy with drink and lust, making it hard to think straight. All I knew was that this was incredible, better than any solo session or random hook-up I’d had in the past.

Suddenly, the hand disappeared, leaving me panting and confused. Had I done something wrong? Before I could dwell on it too long, a soft, wet tongue replaced the hand, swirling around the tip of my cock. I shuddered, unable to hold back a moan. This was new territory, entirely unexpected, but goddamn if it didn’t feel amazing.

The tongue worked its way down my shaft, licking and sucking every inch before pulling back to tease the head again. I felt something brush against my balls, and realized there was another person in the room, someone who wasn’t content with just the glory hole. They were exploring me fully, taking advantage of the anonymity to indulge in whatever fantasies they had.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” I warned, though I doubted anyone could hear me over the muffled sounds of the bar outside. Still, the warning went unheeded, the tongue increasing its pace, coaxing me closer to the edge. My legs trembled, and I had to brace myself against the wall to keep from falling.

“Please… don’t stop,” I begged, my voice cracking with need. It was too late to change my mind now, too far gone to care about anything except the overwhelming desire to come. The tongue flicked faster, teasing me mercilessly, until finally, I couldn’t hold back any longer.

My orgasm hit like a freight train, white-hot and explosive. I came hard, spurting into the mouth waiting eagerly on the other side of the hole. Spent, I slumped against the wall, gasping for air. The tongue continued to clean me off, lapsing me clean with expert precision. Only when I was completely drained did the tongue finally retreat, leaving me alone in the dark, quiet room.

As I fumbled to zip up my pants, I wondered who had been on the other side. Probably some random girl, looking for a quick thrill like me. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, it had been someone else entirely. Someone who knew exactly what they were doing, someone who had enjoyed every second of it as much as I had.

The thought lingered as I stumbled back out into the main area, rejoining my friends who were already bragging about their exploits. I said nothing, keeping my experience to myself. Later, after the buzz wore off and reality set in, I’d have to confront the fact that I might have crossed a line. That for a brief, intoxicating moment, I had indulged in something that didn’t quite fit into my usual experiences.

But in that hazy, drunken state, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that I had lived, truly lived, and that tonight would be a story worth telling—even if I’d leave out a few crucial details.