Very First Experice of Gloryhole Swallow

The bookstore on the second floor regularly organizes cultural events. She is a poet friend I met in the "New Poetry and Micro-Reading Club". with shoulder-length hair. She is like a new poem. People who don’t understand treat it as lyrics, concocting it, and follow the true meaning of chanting. It is called romantic love, and she is my new poem emotionally.


She is shy; she always blushes and shyly when she kisses. Making love to her for the first time, she was so nervous that she covered her hands secretly. I am a cultural person and know how to be gentle, picking up the tie I just removed from the bed and covering my eyes: "This way I can't see you, so don't be shy."


That night, my blind man felt another day when he felt the elephant, walking the unknown curve, alternating between softness and tension, everything between guessing and reckoning. I was a barbecue fork strung carefully around the fire with marshmallows. She was the survivor who clutched the lifebuoy in the sea. The tighter she held me, the deeper I probed, smelling the scorching aroma of marshmallows. Blindfolded sex is more exciting than opening your eyes, no visual distraction, and devoting yourself to the world, and I am in love with this joy of unknown exploration.


"I have a Gay girlfriend. He loves to go to the United States and is addicted to Glory Hole." Poems covered their naked bodies with exquisite and embossed lines to add sexiness.


"What is Glory Hole?" I know, but be modest.


"Open a small hole in the gap, stretch it out, and give it to someone on the other side to play with, whatever." She panted, her voice poems were generally beautiful.


"Very perverted." I knew that my mouth was not right; that's what the literati did.


"He said that Hong Kong also has this kind of place, Glory Hole is not Gay's patent, do you dare to try it?" Glory Hole, which is called gloryhole or gloryhole swallow, is also very poetic, like a new poem. Hearing my heart is no longer a question of daring; it is anxious when.


The matter between Sharon and me You gradually spread in the "New Poetry Micro-Reading Meeting", and everyone's eyes began to lose the elegance of Wen Qing. Close my eyes and listen carefully to the new poem read by the speaker. There is no visual noise, and the space of the text is larger than the black hole. My soul sucks it in, and it has a fairy hole--oh! The black hole was pulling my blood, and the rocket suddenly erected. Still alert, she threw her coat between my legs and blocked the missile from launching. To cover it, whispers all around me, snickers hugging me.


I dragged my poet to leave the "New Poetry Micro-Reading Meeting", left this lost paradise where Wen Qing is no longer and went to a nearby coffee shop to drink coffee to relieve boredom, and met her Gay girlfriends. The poet friend mentioned Glory Hole to Gay girlfriend, she seemed far more open than I expected. Gay girlfriends promised to be our guide, exploring the secret hole every night.


I thought that Glory Hole must be in a public toilet or the like. It was initially set up in a private club. Gay girlfriend reminded that the unwritten rule here is not to ask or answer, and to enjoy the fun in the guessing and guessing quietly. I nodded, anyway, there were poets on the other side of Glory Hole, and everything was passed to her.


I walked through the lonely hallway of the clubhouse. The lights were dim and almost lost my vision. I heard faint breathing in varying depths. Everyone became a "caveman" and tasted the thrill of the cave. Flash into one of the dark compartments, wait for the poet to "join" the other room, and can't wait to squeeze the small rocket into the little black hole, expecting my helmsman to come soon.


She hadn't moved yet, and when he wanted to call the poet's name, the little rocket was held. She is familiar with the feel and temperature. His chest was against the cold wall, but the partition was enthusiastic. The accuracy of her movements is very high, and each action is correct, leading me into the struggle of patience and distribution. I can no longer do it myself, call loudly, and finally, send a string of abridgement numbers to end everything.


"It's wonderful, it's wonderful." Reclaiming the small rocket from Glory Hole, I couldn't help sighing.


After waiting for the appointment, I waited outside the gate. The poet friend walked faster than me and waited outside the gate.


"I lost my way just now after separation, somehow came out and kept waiting here, where did you go?" My heart stopped for half a second, and she kept outside the door? Who did I entrust to just now?


"Ah! I lost my way too, the diarrhoea went to the bathroom and turned around, so I came out late." Suddenly guilty, nonsense.


"Oh! You guys are here." Gay girlfriend flashed out suddenly, "pleasant? I just met an idiot and called very violently. After that, I kept calling" too beautiful, high ", and laughed to death."


"Ha ha ha ha, it's a real pretence." I don't know what to say except to laugh with dripping sweat.

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