Gay Erotic Stories

I was leanin' against the brick wall of the old abandoned warehouse. It's my corner. A corner is a pretty important thing to have for a hustler. As long as you show up there regular and keep to your place, the other hustlers respect that. Every once in a while some greenie tries to muscle in, but they're usually just scared kids and if you handle them right they leave you alone. Hell, sometimes if they're cute enough and scared enough and you're strong enough, you can get 'em to bend over a trash can for you as an apology for trespassing.

The cops on the street all know me, and so long as I give 'em a blow-job every once in a while for nothin', they don't harass me. I don't usually suck a guy off, but when John Law wants you to go down on him, you do it. It's worth it in the long run, and anyway, some of the younger cops are pretty damn cute.

The way I work it is, I stand there against the wall and wait, like I'm just passin' the time. I wear real tight denims, faded and worn pretty thin in the butt that hug my dick and balls so the johns can see what they're buyin'. Then we negotiate. Five dollars and I get a hand-job. Seven-fifty and I jerk them off. Ten and the guy can blow me. If he wants me to fuck him, that's fifteen. I always tell 'em I won't blow them and they can't fuck me. Pisses some of 'em off, but I'm not gettin' into that routine. They'll think I'm some kind of fag, and I don't play that game.

See, every hustler has his own identity. Mine is acting like straight trade. I'll jack 'em off if they want, but that's as far as I go. There are plenty of kids on the streets who'll bend over, and that's fine. Sometimes I'll even send a john to one of them. But they've get reps as pussy-boys, and a rep like that follows you. Once the johns hear you put out, your price goes down. For one thing, it spoils their fantasy. The guys I service like to think I'm a straight boy, and don't want to imagine a stud takes it up the ass. For another, they figure you're desperate -- like you'd stick your butt up in the air for a fiver. Give 'em some head and they think they own you.

Of course, it's different when a cop wants it. That's my protection. But when they come to me, they know my limits, and for some guys the frustration can be a real turn-on. They all think they're the one who's gonna get me to give over. I let 'em touch my butt if they want, or even squeeze my cheeks, but if I feel a finger goin' anywhere near my asshole, the transaction is over. I mean like that! They get their money back and I send 'em to one of the pussy-boys around the block.

Anyway, the guy came strolling up to me, and I checked him out, casual-like. He was pretty hot lookin', but you don't ever let 'em know you think that. You act like you couldn't give a flying fuck, and that turns 'em on. When the john starts talkin' I usually stick my hand in my pants pocket and stroke my cock. When it starts gettin' hard, they're pretty much hooked.

So the john offers me fifty but won't say for what. Now I gotta tell ya, fifty bucks is a big deal to me. A big fuckin' deal. I mean, that's ten blow-jobs! I'm 19, and even though I can get it up three of four times a night if I have to, no hustler can shoot ten in a row. And this guy's offerin' me three nights' worth of suck-offs for one hour!

I tried not to let him see how interested I was, but I wasn't sure if I pulled it off. I did warn him I wouldn't put out, even for fifty. He seemed cool with that, and he didn't look like a maniac, so I figured what the fuck? See, a hustler's gotta be pretty good at sizin' up a john. If they seem hinky, or act too nervous, or I can see a knife in their coat pocket or somethin', I'm outta there.

One of the advantages of givin' head to the cops is, one of 'em's bound to sorta fall for you. There's this one cop, Officer Blake, who's sweet on me. He gave me this "I've fallen down and I can't get up" thing I've got pager hooked to my belt. I press it and he's there inside of three minutes. Never had to use it, but it makes a good threat.

I hadn't really been busted like I told the john, but I wanted him to know it could happen. We have to look pretty casual goin' to the hotel, because you never know who's on duty. It might be some hard-ass who likes to push hustlers around. Better to be safe than sorry.

Like I said, fifty bucks is life for a couple of days. See, I'm savin' up my cash. I work free-lance, so I don't have to give anybody a cut except the night manager of the hotel where I take my tricks. He gets a percentage of my wages, and the rest I keep. I sleep wherever I can. Sometimes if a john is real sweet to me when we get to the hotel, I'll let him stay the night as long as he pays the night manager for it. But that's pretty rare.

Most of the time when the weather's warm I sleep in the warehouse on my corner. It's not run-down enough to be dangerous, and I've got a sleeping bag I keep hidden there. I hide in an old storage closet, and I've got a nice little combination lock for the hinge so the winos can't bug me. If it's cold, I pony up the cash for a room at the "Y".

I've got my money stashed away in a safety deposit box. I've only been hustling for two years, since my old man kicked me out of the house when I was 17, but I've got two thousand now and when I hit three, I'm gettin' a part-time job and a cheap apartment and goin' to trade school. I'm real close to my goal, and I figure one more summer of this and I can start a new life. So if this guy wants to give me fifty for an hour, I'll take it, just as long as it's safe and he doesn't expect to pop my cherry.

I knew I should have made the guy state his terms up-front, but there was somethin' about him I liked. He felt safe. I know how stupid it sounds, 'cause one thing a hustler's gotta know at the beginning are the conditions. I mean, here this guy was askin' me to take fifty bucks and I didn't have a clue for what. I should have stopped the whole thing right there, and I'm usually damn cautious. But part of me really wanted to see what he had in mind. The mystery of it was kinda kicky.

Partly this john convinced me he wasn't some loony or psycho because he acted like the whole thing was as normal as a walk in the park. Maybe that's a chancy attitude on my part, but I've been lucky so far. Then he wanted to know if I was gay. I always tell 'em the same thing. Pitch, yes. Catch, no. If they want a pussy-boy, let 'em go around the block.

Once he got it that I wouldn't roll over and play dead for him, I said yes and we walked the block to the hotel. I knew he was starin' at my ass the whole way. I'm always careful to wear jeans that look like they're about to pop the seat so the trick stays good and turned-on. And I always go up ahead. When I'm walkin' upstairs in front of the john, I swing my butt as much as I can. Keep him interested -- let him get a good look at what's waitin' for him. Every once in a while a john chickens out, and I know if you're in front of him he can duck back down the stairs without bein' too embarrassed.

Even though this john didn't want me to get naked for him I'd gotten to feel fairly safe with the guy. Whatever yanks your chain, man. But it bugged me that he wanted to be in charge. That's not somethin' I'm keen on. I like to let my tricks know that whatever their fantasy is, they gotta let me take the lead. Still, for some reason I let him. Maybe it was his eyes. They were real kind looking. Deep brown, y'know?

I have to admit, he caught me by surprise when he suggested I spank him. Man, this was turnin' into one wild scene! I've done all sorts of kinky stuff for my tricks in the past. One guy gave me twenty-five just to watch me sit on the toilet and act like I was takin' a shit, and another one had me call him every name in the fuckin' book while he beat off. But no one had ever asked me to spank him before. And damn if I didn't like the idea! My old man never laid a hand on me, so I wasn't scared of havin' my ass whipped. Hell, he was too doped up most of the time to even notice I was around. The only time he spoke to me in the last two years I lived with him was when he caught me and Jimmy Cole jerkin' each other off when I was 17. And then all he said was, "Get out of this house now and don't come back, or I'll kill you."

But this guy's fantasy was a total turn-on. It got me hard and kept me hard. I couldn't wait for his signal, so I could charge in there and blister his butt!

I really got into this spanking shit! Man! I mean, the guy was cute anyway, and when I pulled him over my knee and saw that hot butt waiting for me, I got a boner that wouldn't quit. As soon as I felt my hand hit that ass, and heard the CRACK! it made, I went wild! I got so carried away I even forgot about the signal he gave me to stop. All I could concentrate on was watching that sexy butt of his turn red until he yelled at me to stop. And when it was over and I touched his ass, I was amazed by how warm his butt-cheeks were. And then I felt somethin' weird -- somethin' I never ever feel.

See, I know the game. They pay. You cum. Then they cum. Game over. I like it when it's happenin', but once I've shot I don't give a damn. It's almost like drivin' a car with cruise control, you know? It' sex, but it isn't. I mean, I don't put myself into it. I just get it up and empty it out.

When I first started husltin', I didn't like the feeling at all. It was like I was a machine or somethin'. It got so bad I even went with some of the pussy-boys. They thought I was hot, so they gave it up for nothin'. (Stupid, like I said before.) But when I fucked them, I still didn't feel like it was me. It was just my cock gettin' off, that's all.

Even with Officer Blake, that cop who's sweet on me. He's pretty cute, so the first couple of times I blew him, I tried to make it real special. You know, heavy on the dickkissing, play with his balls. Stuff like that. But it didn't make me feel anything more than I usually feel. After a while, I just gave up tryin'. I figured it was part of the life, you know? To stop wanting to feel something more. I guess you could say I have no desire left. Maybe you can't have that if you make a living off other guys' desires.

But this was different. This was like -- I don't know, like it was somethin' I wanted. Except it wasn't complete. I don't just mean because neither one of us came, either. It was like I wanted somethin' more out of it. I couldn't figure out why, at first. But then ...

I only figured it out when I said it. It wasn't just that I wanted to cum. I did -- I mean, I had this woody that just kept gettin' harder and harder. But this little game Carl was playin' made me want what I gave him.

Like I said before, usually if a guy holds my butt-cheeks, I'll let him, you know, unless he gets a finger close to my hole. But this was somethin' different. I didn't want Carl to fondle my butt. I wanted him to spank it. Spank it hard like I'd just spanked his. Make my ass-cheeks red and warm the way his were. I'd been wantin' it since my hand first smacked his butt. All the time I was spankin' him, I kept wonderin' what it felt like. And wonderin' made my dick even harder. And the harder I got, the more I wanted to know.

But soon as I said it out loud, I started wantin' it like nothin' I ever wanted before. Maybe I needed it. Maybe somewhere along the line I wished my asshole dad had done it to me. I don't know. But I wasn't about to let this guy leave the room without tannin' my butt. I had to have it.

I'd never, ever let a john take control like this before, and Carl didn't waste any time. He had me butt-up over his lap in a heart-beat, and the next thing I knew his hand was slappin' all over my ass. There was a sharp pain for every smack, but it wasn't the kind that makes you wince or cry. It was different. This pain made my whole butt feel like sex. I've been sucked off by some experts before, and a few of those pussy-boys had assholes like a vise. But nothin' ever felt like this. It was like a shot of B-10, or a rocket goin' off up my ass. I felt like I could cum without bein' touched. It was like I'd been waitin' for this my whole life.

He pulled my jeans over my butt and then got himself naked from the waist down. When he started rubbing my ass, I felt a warmth that spread from his hand through my butt and out the head of my throbbing dick. He kept playing with my butt, and just as I was startin' to wonder what the hell was goin' on, that hard palm of his smacked my naked butt and I damn near flew off his lap.

The sound of it in the room, the damp SMACK! his hand made when it spanked my sweaty ass-cheeks, the feel of my cock pressed up hard against his leg, the helplessness of bein' held down over the guy's knee -- it really turned me on.

Then the pain really started. I knew I'd smacked the guy's butt pretty hard, but I didn't know how much it would hurt! Oh, man! At first it was just a little sting, y'know? Then the sting turned into a hot fire. By the time the john had only spanked me a half-dozen times, my butt was burnin' up!

I started yellin', it hurt so much. But as much as it hurt, I wanted more. Before I knew it, I was squirmin' -- I couldn't help it! -- but he just held on tighter and kept on wallopin' my bare butt 'til the pain was like hot lava -- and my cock was so hard it hurt!

What was happening to me? Here this john had me belly-down over his knees and not only had I let him spank my butt until it felt like it was gonna burst, I was even allowing him to poke his finger around near my asshole!

And I was lovin’ it!

When his finger pressed in between my butt-cheeks, I tensed up automatically. But some part of me was thrilled at the feel of his wet finger-tip rubbing up against my pucker. Then he smacked me hard across my ass and I let my glutes relax. This wasn't the way things were supposed to happen, but I have to admit the whole scene had my dick rock hard. I couldn't believe I was letting the guy do this. Somehow, I had let him take charge. And somehow, I found myself not minding one damn little bit.

The next thing I knew, he'd got his finger all wet with spit again and was pushin' that sucker against my asshole. He kept it up, but it was slow and deliberate. I think if he'd just stuck his finger up my twat I'd have hollered bloody murder. But once I got used to the idea, I found myself bucking up with my hips, pressin' my ass back on his hand and sorta pushing out with my butthole.

When it was good and slick from his spit, he let the tip slip inside me. I panicked a little and squeezed shut on him, but he just smacked my ass again and I relaxed. I felt his finger pressing forward, slow but sure, and before I knew it he had it buried up to the knuckle. When I squeezed down this time, it wasn't to stop him -- it was just because it felt so damn good! My cock was throbbin' away and my butt was squirmin', and I heard little gasps and moans comin' outta my mouth, and I wanted him to keep goin'. Wanted to feel that finger slide all the way up my butthole.

Finally, I felt the whole thing inside me, and I sighed like a kid who's just eaten a big box of candy. But there was a lot more to come. He started movin' his finger around in my asshole, kind of teasin' it, and then he hit a little knot deep inside me, and my whole body went stiff. It was like he'd just shot volts of electricity up my ass! My cock jumped, my balls bounced, my butt-cheeks slammed shut and my muscles tensed from my head down to my toes. Man! Whatever he was doin', I wanted more of it!

I wasn't sure what was about to happen 'til I heard the john rip somethin' open, and I knew without even turnin' around that he was gettin' ready to put a rubber on over his dick. If this had happened before today, I would have jumped up off that bed so fast it woulda made his head spin. Like I said before, I don't play pussy-boy unless it's for a cop.

But this was different. The whole scene had been different. I hadn't been in control of this one for a long time. But instead of gettin' mad or feelin' scared, I felt my heart leap up and beat in time with my throbbin' cock. This was what the whole deal had been leadin' up to, and somehow I think I knew it all along. And for the first time in my young life, I wanted it to happen.

It's a strange thing to trust a stranger, and I never had before. You just don't ever do that in my game. You make him know right off the bat that what you say goes or he can just forget it, and you stay in charge for the whole transaction. But this Carl had been in charge the whole damn time, and I think I knew it. And for the very first time ever, I let a john call the shots. I was so into the whole scene by now that I just plain surrendered.

His lips on my butt were like fire and his hand made my dick so hard I thought I'd cum right then. By the time he'd got done finger-fuckin' me, I was as relaxed as a bunch of steamed broccoli -- everything except my cock. None of the cops who fucked me, not even Officer Blake, had ever taken so much time or showed me my asshole could feel pleasure. There wasn't nothin' in it for me to enjoy, so I never cared when they fucked me. It was all about me lettin' them have it their way or they'd throw my ass in jail. They just shoved it in and got off. I was just a whore. Carl coulda done the same thing, and I'd of probably let him. But he didn't. He got me as hot as I've ever been, and showed me how much I'd been missin'. And for the first time I wondered if I ever gave a john anything at all when I fucked him except a dick up his butt. I guess so, since a lot of 'em came, but I never tried to please any of them. Not like Carl did.

I had no will of my own left. Just the wild desire to do whatever he wanted me to. And I knew that what he was gonna want me to do was give it up for him. But like I said, for the first time ever, I was ready to let a john take it, 'cause I wanted him to. I think if he hadn't climbed on my back, I would have begged him to do it. My butt was still smartin' from the spanks, but it wanted him inside it. It wanted that bad. I wanted it bad.

I felt his cock press between my sore ass-cheeks and I tried to relax as much as I could.

I was still nervous about what was happenin', but when I felt his dick touch my asshole, my butt opened up and swallowed it whole -- like it just couldn't wait to be fucked! It's never happened to me before. I mean, usually I get real tense when a cop sticks his prick between my legs. But with Carl, I took his cock all the way in one big gulp. I keep makin' it sound like my butthole was a mouth or somethin', but that's sorta what it was like. Like my ass was suckin' him.

I couldn't believe what was goin' on. This was the best fuckin' sex I'd ever had! I guess I'm a kind of expert on fuckin' -- well, givin' a fuck anyway -- but this john had a way with my butt that made it feel completely alive. It was like my dick was connected right to my asshole.

It was even better when he threw my legs up over his shoulders. Somehow it made his dick shoot right up my butt like a goddamn arrow! I loved this! I felt like I wanted to stay like this for the rest of my life -- my butt off the bed and him goin' in and out of my teen-hole like a piston and my dick leakin' like a faucet. Like his fuckin' me was what I always wanted and never knew.

And when he started spankin' me again, I went wild. My bottom was still smartin' from when I was over his lap, and this was like lightin' a fire under my ass! Between the spankin' and the fuckin' I was so turned on I couldn't hold back any more. My dick shot the biggest load of cum ever, and when my asshole grabbed hold of his cock like a vise, he came too. We were both shoutin' and moanin', and he just kept spanking me the whole time. There wasn't anything in the world except his prong shootin' in my hole and my dick spurtin' like there was no tomorrow.

I guess this made me a pussy-boy after all. Well, fuck it. If it felt this good, then I'd be the best damn pussy-boy ever!

The man lay atop the boy in exhaustion, the two sweat-soaked, naked bodies heaving and shuddering. Rivulets of perspiration flowed down Carl's back and down between the cheeks of his ass. He felt a spreading pool of warm semen between their bellies and he hugged the hustler tightly as his dribbling penis slowly began to soften in the still-tight grip of boy's anus. Their mouths sought each other and they kissed deeply, the teenager running his callused palms gratefully along the man's wet body.

Finally, they broke their kiss and looked at each other. Bobby was still tingling from the hottest sex he'd ever had, and he grinned sloppily at Carl, his eyes shining with a light the man hadn't seen when he'd picked the hustler up an hour before.

"Well, Bobby," the john whispered. "Was your time worth my fifty bucks?"

The boy laughed.

"Man, I should pay YOU!"

They chuckled, and rolled over, allowing Carl's now-flaccid penis to slide out of Bobby's dilated rectum. The man lay on his back and the boy rested his cheek on Carl's heaving chest. Carl played with the blond's matted hair with one hand as the other roamed down the slender body to cup one still-reddened cheek.

"Would you like to operate out of a better class of hotel?" the man asked.

The boy shook his head in agreement. Carl gently rolled Bobby over again and get off the bed. He reached for his empty wallet and extracted a small business card. He handed it to the hustler and smiled.

"Call me at this number tomorrow. You're worth a helluva lot more than fifty bucks an hour. If you like, I'll put you up at an apartment near the business district. I've got lots of friends who would love to spend an hour with you, baby. I'll pay the bills until you get going. You'll have a roof over your head and you can work your own hours. As much or as little as you want, as long as the rent gets paid."

The boy looked grateful, yet pensive.

"What's the matter, kid?"

"You aren't gonna take a cut? Fifty-fifty? You know, like -- well, like a pimp?"

Carl shook his head.

"Whatever you make, you keep."

The boy smiled brilliantly for a moment, and then the grin died on his lips.

"But what about you?" he asked softly. "Will I see you again?"

Carl leaned over the slim naked form and kissed Bobby's lips.

"Anytime you want, Bobby."

The boy flushed with pleasure. A sly grin stole over his features that Carl found utterly entrancing.

"I can be a real bad boy, you know. I might need a spankin' now and then."

Carl grinned at the hustler who, an hour ago, had never been spanked before. He could imagine the endless hours of carnal pleasure in store for them both. He held the boy in his arms and lifted him off the mattress. Bobby threw his legs around Carl's waist and smiled.

"You'll get one whenever you need it," the man reassured him.

"I might need it a lot!"

Carl was hoping that Bobby would say just that.