Story of glory

I was twelve when my friend Steven showed me the glory hole in the public park’s restroom. He dropped his pants, briefly displaying his fuzzy erection, then stepped up to the cold stone wall and inserted himself through the small hole. The hole was meant for average-sized adults, so he had to kind of stand on his tiptoes to fit his penis inside.
After a few seconds, he turned away. “There’s no one back there, dude,” Steven explained, pulling up his pants. “But sometimes you can come here and get your dick sucked.”
I resolved to come back as soon as possible by myself.

Later that night I told my parents I was going to take the dog for a walk. I trembled for the entire half-mile stroll. When I got to the park, I tied the dog to a nearby fence and then entered the men’s restroom.
There was someone in the last stall, which was where the hole was located. I waited in the first stall until I heard the other guy exit his stall, wash his hands and leave. Then I dashed down to the last stall, locked the door, yanked my pants down and pushed my little dick through the glory hole.
Unlike Steven, I had very little hair on my crotch yet. My dick was like my middle finger — about three and a half inches long and a little under half an inch wide. It fit very easily into the hole along with my scrotum. Like Steven, I had to stand on my tiptoes.