Gay Erotic Stories

I graduated from high school in 1979. My parents divorced when I was in the second grade and Dad moved away to a larger city a couple of hundred miles away. I saw him occasionally but only when he came for short visits. I never went to his house. That summer, my mom was finally going to marry her longtime boyfriend, a certified SOB, and everyone knew that it would be a disaster if he and I lived under the same roof. It was decided that I would live with my father for the summer and then start college in the fall. I don't remember whose idea it was for me to move in with Dad but it was wonderful. I had known forever that I was gay and had become quite a proficient practitioner. I had obtained an exhaustive and thoroughly enjoyable education in all things sexual in the restrooms of the local shopping malls and the public library. There were several excellent and well-used glory holes. I loved my studies and I was a diligent student. Although the first few days at Dad's house were a bit tense, I knew it would all work out when he told me he didn't mind if I smoked. Mom hated it, her SOB boyfriend preached to me about it, and Mom made me go outside to smoke, even in winter. Dad didn't mind. He even smoked occasionally. I don't think he liked smoking so much, he just thought it looked cool. He bummed a cigarette from me once but turned up his nose when he saw that it was a Salem. He didn't like menthol but he smoked it anyway.

The thing I missed the most at Dad's house was sex. I had gone cold turkey. I didn't know where any tearooms were and I didn't know anyone. I jacked off a lot but that just isn't the same as real man-to-man sex.

The only thing that helped keep my mind off sex even a little was the summer job Dad had found for me. It was a day job but that left the evenings free for fantasies and jacking off. On the morning of the first Saturday, Dad walked into my bedroom wearing a thin nylon tank top and skimpy nylon running shorts cut very high. He wanted to let me know he was going for a run and would be back in an hour or so. The sight of him got me incredibly horny. As he turned to leave the room, I could almost see each cheek under that thin fabric. I'm glad I was still under the covers or Dad would have seen my boner. I wasn't surprised by his outfit and didn't read anything into it, this was the 1970s and running shorts that revealing were common.

I was too horny to stay in bed (at least by myself) so I got up. I remembered that there was a park nearby so I thought I would go check it out. It was a couple of block away and was a rather large park. Portions of the park were heavily wooded. I followed a path up one slope and another randomly choosing which direction to go whenever the path divided or intersected with another path. Suddenly I found myself in a clearing with a small building off to one side. When I got closer, I realized it was a bathroom – one side for men, one side for women. It didn't look like it got much traffic. On the inside, it was a long narrow room with a sink, a urinal trough, and two stalls, all lined up against one wall. With my extensive tearoom education, I immediately knew that this was an excellent set-up. The location was isolated and there was gravel at the entryway so anybody approaching the door would be heard. There was a door and just inside the tearoom was a partition so even when the door was open, an outsider could not see in. There would be more than ample warning if anyone entered the tearoom while anything was going on. The advantages of a urinal trough are obvious – without partitions, guys peeing can see everything and stand as close or as far apart as desired. I went in the first stall and saw that it was fitted out as well as any young tearoom queen could have wished. There was a peephole in the wall next to the trough and a glory hole on the other wall into the next stall. I pulled my shorts down around my ankles (I don't wear underwear) and sat down. It felt like home. In the peephole to my right I had a perfect view of the door, the sink, and the urinal trough. The glory hole to my left was just the right height for a cock and was not too close to the toilet. I leaned back and lit up a cigarette. My dick was growing with anticipation. Now all I had to do was wait. Sure enough, almost on cue, a guy came in. He pushed a bicycle in front of him and leaned it up against the wall. He was wearing biker's tights with a large obscene bulge. He looked directly at the peephole and groped himself lewdly. He knew that if I wasn't interested in dick I wouldn't be looking through the peep hole. I ever so slightly raised my toes in response. He walked to my stall door and looked through the doorframe. I raised my hips and let him see my hard dick. I pumped it a few times for him to see. Just as I was about to stand up and open the stall door, I heard footsteps approaching on the gravel outside. The door opened and a runner came in breathing heavily, covered in sweat. He went to the sink, splashed water in his face and chest. He had a shirt wadded up hanging from the back of his waistband. He pulled the shirt loose and used it to dry his face and chest. That's when I realized it was Dad. God he was gorgeous. The biker moved to the urinal and pulled his tights down in front exposing his dick and balls. His arms were folded across his chest and his dick stood straight out in front of him. He made no effort to hide his erection. Dad looked up from the sink toward the biker and nodded in my direction with a questioning look. Biker whispered, "He's cool, I checked." Dad moved to the urinal and pulled his dick out and gave it a few strokes. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Was he gay? Was he just looking for a quick blowjob? What was really going on here? Then the biker pulled his tights down to mid-thigh, exposing everything front and back. I couldn't believe my eyes but Dad did the same. Then they turned to face each other and they moved closed together. Their arms went around each other and their lips met. They were kissing. Straight guys looking to get their rock off with a quick blowjob from a fag don't kiss. They certainly don't slurp and French kiss. The biker's back was to me; I could see Dad's arms around him, groping and exploring his butt. He ran his fingers up and down the biker's crack and squeezed his cheeks. They weren't just kissing; they were necking, making out. Their hips were grinding in unison.

Dad knelt down in front of the guy and I thought he was going to suck him but instead he turned the biker around and rimmed him. The biker bent over with his arms against the wall of my stall for stability. Dad spread the guy's cheeks and rimmed deep. I could see Dad's fully erect dick swinging between his legs. The biker was moaning and cooing like a girl in love or a bitch in heat. Then dad stood up and inserted his dick into the biker's butt and fucked him. Hard. It didn't take long. He pulled free. I though Dad would leave but instead he turned his back to the guy and bent over spreading his cheeks wide. It was turn about fair play. The biker returned the favor by rimming him and then fucking him. They both got their rocks off. After a moment to catch his breath, the biker pulled up his tights, rearranged himself and left with his bicycle. Dad stepped out of his shorts, picked them up, and walked to the stall next to me. He was stark strip naked. I watched him in the peephole until he passed in front of me and then through the glory hole as he entered the other stall. He wiped himself good. It took several wads of toilet paper. The biker must have cum big. I watched each wipe. His heavy dick bobbed, tired and used but too excited to completely deflate. I looked down at my dick and it was dripping precum. I touched the bloated head and instantly I shot off all over myself. I let out a gasp; the force of the orgasm surprised me. I think he heard and knew I came. Rather than leaving when he was all cleaned up, Dad sat down on the toilet, still naked. He leaned back. I lit up a smoke. After a minute or two, he asked if he could borrow a smoke from me. Without saying a word, I passed him a cigarette and my yellow plastic lighter under the partition. His fingers touched mine as he took them. All he said was "Salem, huh." He lit up and handed the lighter back to me. After he had smoked the cigarette, he put on his shorts and left. He made no effort to see who I was and didn't look back as he walked out of the tearoom. I stayed there for a while, thinking, and chain smoking, ... still hard as granite.

I had just seen my dad have sex with another man, in ways that made it clear he craved and enjoyed cock, balls and ass. He was butt naked in a public restroom and wiped cum from his asshole while a complete stranger he never even saw watched the whole thing. Don't get me wrong; I was excited as hell by what I saw. To say it took me by surprise would by the understatement of the year. The thing that kept coming back over and over again was just how fucking sexy he was. My god he was gorgeous. He exuded sex and I wanted him so bad it hurt. When I got home, Dad was out in the backyard getting some sun. He was stretched out on a large towel in the grass. He was wearing the same running shorts, now with the waistband rolled down to make them even smaller. When he saw me he looked up with a big smile. "Just the person I was hoping to see. Rub some of this on my back would you?" He held out a bottle of sun tan lotion. "Sure," I said. He was stretched out on his stomach with his legs spread wide. I knelt down between his legs and pushed them apart a bit wider. I leaned over him, put some lotion on my hands and then started rubbing it on his back. I started at his shoulders and worked my way down. I didn't linger but I was thorough in covering every single square inch. "Did you have a good run," I asked. "Yes, I did." "While you were gone I walked over to the park."

"See anything you like?"

"Yeah I did. I went exploring and followed a path up a hillside. It was covered with trees. I thought it would lead somewhere interesting but it ended in small clearing with an old restroom."

"Red brick?" Dad asked.

"Yeah."

"I know it. It is off the beaten path. Did you go in?"

"Yeah."

"Any one else there?"

"Not when I got there but two guys came in later.” "Together?"

"No they came in separately."

My hands by this time were down to the small of Dad's back and I was working my way toward his butt. "You'll never believe what I saw," I said.

"What?"

"Those two guys I saw in the bathroom, they stood next to each other at the urinal and started kissing."

"Really. Why do you think they did that?" Dad asked.

"I guess because they liked it. Their shorts were pulled down and their dicks were sticking out hard." As I mentioned that their shorts, my fingers went under Dad's waistband and traced across the top of his butt. He ground his hips in response and pressed back against my hands. "What did they look like, these two guys?"

"The first guy was a cyclist, he pushed his bike into the bathroom and left it propped against the wall. I'd guess he was in his twenties. The second guy was a runner. He came in wearing nylon running shorts without a shirt. He was very sweaty. He was in his thirties. They were both very nice looking, very muscular." As I described their bodies, my fingers found the top of Dad's butt crack. I traced it lightly with my fingers. He started to rock his hips, almost imperceptibly, in time with my fingers. “It is getting hot out here," I said as I pulled off my shirt. I tossed the shirt onto the ground making sure my Salem’s and yellow plastic lighter fell out of the shirt pocket where Dad would see them. He didn't say anything but I could see his smile.

"So, these guys, did they just kiss?" Dad asked.

"Oh, they did a lot more than that, that was just for starters. The runner knelt down behind the cyclist and rimmed him, licked his asshole and made him squirm." My fingers were now well down Dad's butt crack. I pulled his shorts down, as I went revealing more and more of his butt. From watching him earlier I already knew he had no tan line. "Then the runner stood up and started to fuck the cyclist."

"Really, right there in the john?"

"Yes, I couldn't believe it."

"How long did that go on?"

"Quite a while. The cyclist seemed to really be enjoying it." By now my fingers had found Dad's hole. His hips were rotating in rhythmic imaginary fuck strokes. My fingers were covered in sun tan lotion making them very slippery. "The runner fucked long and hard, his cock pounding in and out." My thumb rubbed circles around the tight ring of muscle at the entrance to Dad's asshole. "Eventually the runner came. But that wasn't the end of it."

"No, there was more?"

"They switched places. The runner pulled his dick out of the cyclist's butt and the cyclist knelt down and rimmed the runner's butthole. I had a better view this time. It was a very tight hole but the cyclist spread the runner's cheeks as wide as he could and licked and sucked and kissed that hole every way he could." My index finger pressed past his sphincter. With my other hand, I pulled my own dick free from my shorts. It was hard as a rock and primed to go. "After the cyclist rimmed the runner for a while, he stood up, pumped his cock a few times to make sure it was very hard and took aim. I could tell the runner was looking forward to being fucked." I pressed my dickhead against Dad's butt and ran it across his hole several times. His butt was primed and ready for more action. He wanted it. He raised his butt up in anticipation of more dick. "The cyclist pressed his dick against the runner's asshole and slowly entered him completely." I did the same, my dick slowly entered Dad's butt. As his asshole parted to welcome me into him, Dad relaxed completely and seemed to melt under me. I pushed until my dick was completely buried and my short hairs were pressed tight against Dad's butt. "The cyclist then fucked the runner until he came." I did the same.

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