His message arrived just after seven the next night. It didn’t need punctuation, didn’t require pleasantries or suggestion. There was no emoji, no question mark, no need for tone. He already knew I would come.
Same spot. Eight.
I read it once, closed my phone, and left it face-down on the kitchen counter as if that meant I wasn’t already anticipating him. The room felt hotter than it was. I hadn’t touched myself all day. Not because I’d been busy, but because I knew I’d need the edge.
I shaved, not out of necessity, but because I wanted the clean line of the blade across my skin. It helped me feel ready. Balanced. In control, even if that word had started to feel suspiciously like one of his.
By the time I stepped into the familiar fluorescent flicker of the block’s entrance, my heart was already moving faster than my stride. The sharp tang of bleach filled my nose the moment I stepped inside. Underneath it, something fainter lingered. Old sweat, stale lust, ghosts of nights like this one still clinging to the tile and grout.
I imagined every guy before me who walked in with hope. That he would find a hot experience like the ones I’d been having.
He was already in the next stall. I didn’t need to check. The silence had shape. It sat heavily in the air, already too still, too precise.
I locked the door behind me and dropped to my knees, not like I had something to prove, but because the setup had already begun.
His cock came through the hole the way it always did. Hard. Warm. Already leaking at the tip. Like he hadn’t touched himself all day either.
He hadn’t touched himself all day, I could tell.
I didn’t reach for it straight away. I just stared for a moment, soaking in the sight of something I had already tasted, already felt down my throat, already come to crave in a way I hadn’t expected. He’d stopped being anonymous the moment he stepped out of that stall and waited by my car. Now he wasn’t a stranger. He was something else entirely. A habit and an addictive ritual. A beautifully dangerous secret, and one I never saw coming.
I leaned forward, let my lips brush the head lightly, and licked it, tasting that bitter and salty precum. Then, I let my tongue circle just under his foreskin, tasting what lived there. So fresh and clean, yet also with a that familiar scent lingering under foreskin. That scent that often lives under foreskin. I licked it and sucked on the tip, feeling more of that tasty pre-juice.
And then took him in, slowly. My tongue pressed flat beneath the shaft, my hand rising to cradle his balls, and the breath that left his throat was low enough that I might’ve missed it if I hadn’t been listening for it.
Slowly, I let his thick, uncut dick slide along my tongue and through my mouth and let it reach the back of my throat.
Then I tightened my throat and felt his cock pulsate.
I sucked him deeper. Let my spit slide down, coating the length of his shaft. My hand followed. Slow strokes to match the rhythm of my mouth. He stayed still, no thrusts and let me work my magic.
When I pulled back to breathe, I let the head rest against my lips and kept my voice low.
"You waited for this, didn’t you son."
There was no answer, only the subtle twitch of his cock under my tongue.
"You wanted to be used again."
Still nothing.
Then he pulled back, slow and deliberate, and I knew exactly what was coming.
He turned, positioning himself just as he had before. His bare ass pushed against the edge of the hole, perfectly presented, slightly parted, already glistening like he’d been prepping before I even got the message.
I watched that perfectly round, bubble butt tease me. My dick went hard instantly.
No words were needed in a glory hole situation and saying anything more would be pointless.
The sun had gone down completely and the moonlight was very dim, so the shadows were deep.
I spit through the hole, watching it land between the cheeks and slide down. My fingers followed. I pressed two into the space between them, massaging gently. He arched slightly, giving me more room. Giving me consent without offering a word.
"You’ve been thinking about this since the shower, haven’t you."
I coated him with more spit, making it as wet as I could without lube. The hole clenched around nothing, tight and twitching. I took that as invitation.
"You like pretending I’m the one calling the shots."
He pressed back again, firmer this time.
"You want to feel it, and you want me to think it was my idea."
I guided myself to the hole, still hard, still aching. The angle was never perfect, but it didn’t matter. He’d made it work before, and he would again.
The head of my cock pushed against him and held there. I didn’t rush. I waited for him to ease open. I let him give it to me.
But then he moved away.
Confused, I moved back and looked through the hole.
I watched him pull up his football shorts and unlock the stall.
Disappointed, I realized I was being played.
He walked past my cubicle and I heard him walk away.
Except he didn’t leave. I heard him shuffle just by the sink in the open area by the sinks.
I pulled up my shorts and unlocked the stall and looked out.
He was bent over the bench, his knees on the edge of it and his hole presented. Waiting for me.
I walked over, still hard and still horny.
“Coach, please don’t tell anyone,” he said.
I gulped, the comment making my dick twitch.
As I pulled my shorts down, I said, “don’t worry, son. You keep being a star player on my team, giving me what I want and when I want it, and our secret’s safe.”
I put my dick up to his hole, feeling my precum lube it as I slowly pushed the head of my cock in.
He pushed back, “oh Coach. Do you do this to the other boys?”
The head of my cock slowly popped inside his hole and I heard him gasp.
“Yes son. But you’re the best one. You’re the one who does what he wants. The others aren’t as obedient.”
With his hands, he stretched his cheeks apart to open up fully as I slid in more of my cock.
“As long as this is our secret Coach. I won’t tell anyone. Ever. I promise,” he whispered, even as I heard the relief in his voice when my dick slid all the way in.
I felt my balls bang against his as my dick reached in as far as I could go. My thighs pressed against him, squeezed against the flesh of his butt.
I exhaled with a sound that wasn’t quite a groan, but something heavier.
I slid in and out, slow at first. His body was tight, clenched around me, hot enough to pull a curse from my mouth I didn’t even realise I’d said aloud.
With my hands I stroked his butt, around the front and towards his cock. With one hand I stroked his cock and with the other I played with his smooth chest and his nipples.
"You needed this, sir." He whispered, a slight tremor in his voice.
He pushed back harder and I pushed my cock deeper still inside him.
"You made me think I was the one taking it from you, but this was always what you wanted."
I gripped him firmly as I fucked him like it was the only thing that existed.
“Oh Coach! You always make me cum so quick. Can I let go now?”
“No son. Not until I say so.”
“Please Coach! I’m so close. Please Coach. I promise I’ll be good and let you do this to me every day.”
“You’ll do it every day anyway. But for now, you’ll wait.”
Although I was ready to nut anyway, feeling it somewhere deep inside me, threatening to explode out of my balls and through my shaft and deep into his butt.
I pumped him some more, then sped it up, fucking him harder.
“Oh! Coach! You’re hurting me!” he acted like he was sobbing, but I knew it wasn’t true.
I fucked him even harder, feeling that start to build.
“Oh Coach! You’re gonna make me cum!” as he said that last part, I knew he was about to unleach and so I kept control.
“GO!” I yelled in the darkness of that small building.
We exploded at the same time. I wanted to feel it, so I reached around and jerked him myself, feeling it rush out and squirt everywhere just as I myself shot huge loads inside him. It felt like rivers of cum ejaculating out of my cock inside him.
I came and came and kept on coming.
He sunk, a little exhausted, even as more of my jizz flooded his insides.
“Fuck! Coach you’ve filled me up!” he moaned with both exhaustion and pleasure.
“I did son,” I said breathlessly, as my dick finally slid out, not as hard and with jizz flowing out with it.
I leaned on him, catching my breath.
“You’re a naughty Coach. But I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered.
“Good boy.”
You won't believe what happens next. Find out now where parts 5 and 6 are already available on Patreon!