A young millionaire's gloryhole encounter

What did they do last night? Learn all about it here

"Well?" said Helena. "What are you thinking?"

"Hm?" said Damien.

He was glancing at the body of a waitress in the street. Her pencil skirt barely touched the top of her legs and was difficult to ignore. She walked away, and she sat in awe with a dark-haired male in the opposite room.

The man turned to him and smiled.

"Do you enjoy it this place?" Helena gestured around the tiny, kitsch restaurant.

The decor was extravagant, but not in an unintentionally sour way. The dim lighting may have hidden the many sins of the place however, the illuminated frames that contained erotic art appeared to take over the space.

"It's good," he replied. "The appetisers weren't the best."

Helena chuckled.

"No, I don't think they're anything extraordinary." The woman was drawing circles using her fingernail onto the cloth. "But the majority of people don't visit here to eat."

Damien furrowed his brow. "What are you referring to?"

Helena stopped, clearly content with having the advantage. She looked him in the face and she said, "they come for the gloryholes."

"They-they are what?" stuttered Damien.

He'd heard her flawlessly the first time around, but it was not Helena to offer anything that exciting.

"To be precise," she said, "it's the most convenient place located in New York City to play Gloryhole Roulette. According to the online site, it's the best place to play Gloryhole Roulette."

Damien's sexual appetite waned for a short time until he understood the gist of this scheme.

He wanted to know the meaning of Gloryhole Roulette was

"Colour me intrigued," said Damien. "I'm listening..."

Helena raised her glass of wine while she spoke. "In case you didn't know that restrooms are not gender-neutral. Both genders are allowed to use the restroom simultaneously."

"That's not unusual these times."

"Maybe maybe not," Helena replied. "But placing your dick on the wall of your cubicle and not being able to tell if it's either a woman or a man drinking it," she replied, " that's a little less popular."

"So did you not mean you as well as myself?" asked Damien, already having the answer.

"Almost everyone here is playing, Damey. This is why they're in this room. I do that to you constantly. What fun would there be having it all here?"

Damien took a sip of his whiskey as his mind was pondering. "What do you think if it's a male?"

Helena took a bite of her lip and smiled at the idea. "Then you'll get your dick pulled by an individual."

He was honest, the thought enticed him. He'd never had anything remotely sexual with anyone. Based on the way this game played out, there was a 50-50 chance he would be able to keep the streak running.

"What do you gain from the situation?" he asked.

"Why did you get me in the back the other evening?" came Helena's retort.

Damien knew exactly where the conversation was headed however he still asked. "It's my favourite thing to do," he shrugged.

"This is what I love about you," she shrugged, and then sipped deeply from her glass of wine.

The waiter was there to fill her up.

Damien was unable to challenge her reasoning and it was only fair.

It appeared that the man was planning playing Gloryhole Roulette

He sat up and headed towards the bathroom.

"So did I do it?" ...?" do it?" he inquired by pointing his thumb in the direction he was concerned about heading.

Helena invited him to come closer with smiles on her face. He sat down and she pulled him up to kiss him on the back of the tie of his Armani tie.

"Just select a cubicle that is empty close to one that's been filled," she whispered. "Lock your door and knock on the wall twice."

"Okay," he said.

"There'll get two more knocks in the event of a in a game, one note."

He let go of his tie.

He understood.

After a few minutes the employee was in the cubicle, knocking against the wall

Two knocks returned.

This is the end of the story,Damien thought to himself as the cock was threaded through the hole of glory.

It was greeted immediately by a warm, waiting mouth. Its owner had a soft face and soft hands. They were awed by the soft usage of their teeth as they chewed.

The absence of beards led Damien to think that it was female and he held on to the belief. But, he wouldn't rule out the possibility of seeing a man with a clean shave.

The soft sounds they released didn't reveal any information regarding their sexuality.

Damien was pleasantly thrilling.

He was poised to put his hand in the mouth of the stranger as they left. Damien hit his palm violently against the wall of the cubicle.

"Oh I'm sorry!" he reigned in the yell until it was half-tone. The person who was on the other side smiled with joy.

Then, he felt a distinct sensation of a lubed up and a snare squeezing the ends of his daddy.

Damien was fighting to keep himself from screaming in joy at the familiar sensation. At this point, he'd typically plunge his cock into the a**.

Being unable to drive from the seat was an entirely new experience but it was not one that you could say that he disliked.

"Ohh Fuck yeah!" he moaned as his fellow gloryhole mate pulled their body on Damien's waiting to get a sexy erection.

At this point, he'd pushed the subject of gender from his thoughts. It was a strange experience.

He was a brutal second or two after, and was unable to hold the back of him any longer.

He drew his cock from the glory hole

He put it back in the pants and secured his belt. He saw two cubicle doors open and open into the main space.

He then spotted an attractive Asian female as well as an ungainly white man making themselves look good in the mirror.

There was nobody else present, and none of them even glanced at him. Damien thought that was perfectly. It was better to not be aware of.

He returned to the dining area , and was seated at the dining table along with Helena. Her body was buzzing with excitement.

"So what was the result?" she squeaked.

Damien paused. "Pretty amazing," he admitted.

Helena was clapping three times before she was up on her feet. "Come on, let's go."

"Did I not get our dinners?" he asked.

"Oh, Damey. I'm ready for dessert."