The 70s were glorious. After a day sunbathing in the nude in the mens’’ enclosure with periodic dips in the pond and trips to the Gents, the body and mind were fired up with the delights of the male form.
Quite by chance, on my way home one late afternoon, I discovered a small hut on a hill, a toilet with only two cubicles. I investigated and found a glory hole connectjng the two.
I didn’t have to wait long before a tongue came poking through; I didn’t need to have it explained what that meant. I then had my first, gloriously intense bj in, yes, a glory hole. The performer of this intense rite assured me I had a beautiful cock.
Encouraged by this, I was a regular at the font of pleasure many times thereafter…
