Gay Erotic Stories

Not long ago, a junior college chum told me he had converted a room over his parents' garage into a "bachelor pad." "I wish you'd come by and take a look at it," he said. "I'm really proud of it." A fresh paint job, new carpeting, and his bed and dresser were about all he could show off when I stopped by. A month later, however, his new pad looked like something out of a wet dream: A large round mirror was attached to the ceiling over a waterbed, colored lighting replaced conventional lighting, and a large framed poster of two naked men embracing hung over his dresser. A framed poster of a naked man stepping into a shower hung on the bathroom door. "Unbelievable" was the only word for the bathroom. Red curtains on the window, red linoleum, red towels, and a red high-back canvas chair faced a counter filled with all kinds of colognes, perfumes, and hair products. A wall was covered with framed photos of his "customers" sitting naked in that canvas chair getting "the treatment." "What's the treatment?" I asked him. "A shampoo, hairstyle, a lot of tender loving care and encouragement to make them feel special," he said. "Everybody needs a little TLC now and then. Everybody needs to feel special." "What do you charge for all this TLC?" "Nothing. It wouldn't be right if I charged money." His phone rang while we were in the bathroom. One of his "regular customers" wanted to come over and bring a friend. "I'm booked solid tonight," he told the caller ."How about tomorrow night . . .say around eleven?" "Eleven?" I asked. "You invite guys in here that late?" He finished the call before answering me: "Some guys want to spend the night." "That's part of the TLC you provide?" "If they're cute." I had to come by early the next morning to see if he was alone. He wasn't. He let me in to show off a sleepy redhead in his bed. "Want some coffee?" He filled a cup for me in his kitchenette and another for the redhead who still hadn't moved. "C'mon, baby," he called to the boy. "Time to face the morning." The teenager stirred, gave me a vacant stare, and slowly sat up in a tangle of sheets. "You gonna do my hair?" he asked. "After you shower." But the boy lay back across the bed. "C'mon, get up," my friend said. "I've got to change the sheets." After a sip of coffee, the boy untangled himself from the sheets and came for his coffee. Grinning up at him, my friend gave his bare behind a squeeze. "Isn't he a doll? His name is Tony and he loves watching himself in the mirror. Don't you, baby." "How do you get away with all this?" I had to know. "What do your parents say? "It was their idea that I move out here. I haven't talked to them since. I asked my mom to come check out my new place and she said she wanted no part of it. She said she'd leave me alone if I promised to keep quiet, not say anything to friends. I don't know if I can do that. This is too much excitement to keep secret! Imagine! A place where you can get laid and your hair-styled free of charge!"