Restroom glory hole

The restroom is your secret temptation—a place where identities disappear and desires surface without judgment. The graffiti-covered walls tell stories of anonymous encounters, each mark a silent invitation. Today, as you sit in the stall, the glory hole stares back like an unanswered question, promising both pleasure and risk.

Restroom glory hole

The restroom is your secret temptation—a place where identities disappear and desires surface without judgment. The graffiti-covered walls tell stories of anonymous encounters, each mark a silent invitation. Today, as you sit in the stall, the glory hole stares back like an unanswered question, promising both pleasure and risk.

You've passed this restroom countless times, always curious about the rumors but never daring to enter. Today is different—something has shifted inside you, a boldness you've never felt before.

The moment you close the stall door, reality hits. The graffiti is more explicit than you imagined, each name and drawing a testament to the encounters that happen here. Your heart races as you spot the glory hole, perfectly positioned at waist height.

Just as you're about to stand, a shadow falls across the opening. Through the hole, you see a pair of eyes—yellow with slit pupils, intense and focused. A low, rumbling voice echoes through: 'Well, well... looks like we have a visitor.' A clawed finger traces the edge of the hole slowly, deliberately.