I read a story like this long ago in Penthouse Forum. It was one of the first things that got me thinking more about cock. Hope you like it…

Behind the Locker Room
It started as a rumor. A dirty little legend that floated through campus every year around football season.

Behind the locker room, there was a storage room with a hole in the wall — and on certain nights, there was a girl behind it.
Nobody knew her name. No one ever saw her. But they said she gave head like it was her purpose in life. Show up. Drop your pants. Slide your cock in… and lose your mind.

Guys would laugh about it in groups, nudging each other like it was just a joke — but some of them? Some said they’d been there. That they came so hard they forgot their own name.

Me?
I never joined the laughter.
Because I wasn’t laughing.

I was curious.
I didn’t care who started the rumor.
I just knew I needed to be on the other side of that wall — not as one of the guys in line… but as the one doing the sucking.

It was a home game. Loud, crowded, full of beer and sweat and noise.

I slipped out during halftime, down the old back hallway that led behind the stadium. The locker room was locked, but I didn’t need that — I needed the room behind it.

And just as I turned the corner… I saw her.

Or someone.

She was climbing out the window. Hoodie pulled up, sneakers hitting the grass as she sprinted away into the night. No one else saw her. Just me.

I walked over slowly, heart pounding. Looked through the open window.

And there it was.

A hole in the wall.
And from it… slowly, lazily, a cock began to slide forward.
Thick. Cut. Half-hard and already beautiful. A slow, proud rise. The kind that made your mouth water.

He didn’t say a word.
He didn’t ask who was on the other side.
He assumed it was her.

And I stayed quiet…
As I dropped to my knees.

I let my lips hover over the head. Just breathing. Feeling the heat, the weight, the pulse.

He twitched.

I kissed the crown gently, then licked — slow and warm, circling the tip as it hardened in my hand. His body shifted behind the wall. A groan slipped out.

I smiled around the head of his cock and took him deeper.

He was thick and hot in my mouth, and I welcomed it. My throat relaxed as I worked him with care — slow sucks, a slick hand pumping at the base, tongue swirling every time I pulled back.

He moaned louder. Still no words. Just pleasure.

He thought it was her.

He didn’t know it was me — a man on his knees, worshiping him like a god.

And when he came — deep and hot into my mouth — I swallowed every drop and let him slide out slowly, dripping, twitching, satisfied.

Footsteps. Voices.

“Yo, was she really in there?”
“Yeah, Tyler just came out white as a ghost. Said it was unreal.”
“No fuckin’ way.”

I stayed kneeling.
Lips wet. Cock hard in my pants.
And then… another cock slid through.

Thicker. Already hard. The head flared like it knew exactly what I was about to do.
And he didn’t hesitate.
Because he thought he knew who was back here.

I took him greedily.
He came fast — moaning, gripping the wall, shuddering as I sucked him through orgasm and into afterglow.

“Heard she’s in there tonight.”
“Isn’t that just a story?”
“Go ahead, try it. You’ll see.”

This one came in hesitant — half-hard, uncut, a little cocky.

He slid it through like he wasn’t convinced.
“I’ve had good head before,” he said, smirking. “Bet she’s overrated.”

I licked his tip once.
He gasped.
I swirled my tongue again, drew his skin back gently, and took the head into my mouth.

He groaned. “Oh… fuuuuck…”

I sucked softly, slowly — barely halfway down — and his cock exploded with a hot, sudden burst.

He whimpered. Actually whimpered.
Muttering “what the fuck” as his cum spilled across my tongue.

When he left, dazed, I heard him whisper to the guy outside:
“Bro… it was her. I swear. It’s real.”

The next guy didn’t say a word.

No swagger. No hesitation.

He just opened the door. Walked in. Slid his cock through the wall like he knew exactly where to aim it.
Thickest one yet. Long. Clean. Flushed dark at the head.
He was already leaking.

I pressed a kiss to the tip.
He grunted.

“You quiet now,” he said. “But you’re gonna be loud on this dick.”

I opened wide and took him in — deep and fast.
He fucked my mouth from the first thrust.

Rough. Wet. Perfect.

My spit coated his cock as I worked him. My jaw ached. My throat stretched. I was moaning around him, gagging slightly, letting him use my mouth like a hole built just for this moment.

He growled. Hands slammed the wall.

And then he roared — cock twitching, blasting his load straight down my throat.

I drank him like the others. Swallowed it all.

And when he finally pulled back, panting, he muttered:

“…who the fuck are you?”

I smiled. Still silent.

Let him wonder.

No one ever found out.

The girl never returned.

But the rumors?
They kept growing.

Some said she graduated. Others said she moved on.
But every now and then, when a new player came through… they’d hear the story.

About the locker room.
About her.
About the mouth that could ruin a man in minutes.

And I’d just smile.

Because the truth?

It was never her.

It was me.