Fifteen years ago, I traded my sheltered life for the dark hallways of Adultworld.

I was younger, leaner, and fueled by a hunger that my quiet upbringing couldn't touch. For R25, I bought my way out of the ordinary and into a den of raw, unapologetic lust.

The air inside was heavy, lit only by a dim, crimson glow that made everything look like a fever dream. The soundtrack to the movies playing was a chaotic symphony of wet friction, cocks driving into pussies in the hetero section and the frantic, sloppy sounds of deep throating coming from the gay section.

Driven by a mix of fear and horny (ness), I climbed the stairs to the glory-hole booths. Through a jagged slit in the wall, a hand reached out, fingers beckoning for my cock. I didn't stop to think; I just unzipped and pushed my hardening meat through the wood.

The contact was instant. Warm, greedy hands wrapped around my shaft, stroking me into a pulse-pounding ache. Then came the mouth, hot, wet, and incredibly hungry. As I was pulled deeper into that throat, I felt the rough graze of beard stubble against my skin. In any other world, I might have flinched, but there, the friction only made me harder.

He worked me with a desperate intensity, his tongue swirling around the head of my cock until I saw, what most would call, stars. I lasted barely a minute before I felt the familiar burn. I groaned as I shot my hot jizz straight down his throat. The sound he made - that wet, guttural swallow—sounded like someone finally sinking their teeth into a well deserved meal.

Breathless and vibrating from the rush, I tucked myself away and bolted for the first exit.The last image burned into my mind was another guy nearby, watching my face with rapt attention while he took care of himself. It was a wild, sensory-charged introduction to a world I never knew existed.....

Still, that last imprinted face, etched into my mind, in the shadows from the crimson light.