When I was an undergraduate, I was at a party where, the rumour went, a glory hole had been set up in the basement of the host’s house. It seems a thin piece of drywall had been arranged to divide a section of the laundry room.
A platic cup full of gin and tonic in hand, I did creep down there to take a look. Sure enough, there was an unpainted wall behind a dark curtain… and there was a hole, maybe three or four feet above the floor, maybe three inches wide.
But there was no penis through it. Not at the time, anyway. And not that, in those years, I would have dared experiment with it.
Take your time, baby. I know, sometimes they can be quite the mouthful, can’t they? That just means that he really liked what you were doing. And, hey, it’s not nearly as bad as you were afraid of, is it? Now swallow it up like a big girl, baby. It’ll be ok.
