Gay Erotic Stories

It was one of those hot muggy afternoons you had to spend in your backyard pool or next to an air conditioner. My mom had already claimed the pool for herself and some girlfriends and told me to disappear. That meant they would all be nude at the pool before long. One of those girlfriends brought along her eighteen-year-old grandson and told him to disappear. He came looking for me upstairs and found me nude in my room, lying on the floor between my bed and my air-conditioner. "What the hell are you doing?" "Trying to keep cool. What the hell does it look like?" "Is it cool down there?" "It's cooler under the bed, but I can't get very far." "Got room for me?" he asked, stripping off his clothes. "Did you shut the door?" "No." "You'd better or we'll have a hard time explaining what we're doing." We both found it cooler under the bed, but after a few minutes the hardness of the floor became a problem. "My back hurts," Jimmy complained, and back out he slid. He went into my bathroom and got under a cold shower. I joined him and we sat down under the cold spray. There was only so many ways two guys could sit in there without touching, so something had to give. "Maybe it would be better if we lay down?" he asked. So there we lay facing each other. It was impossible not to look at each other's dick or feel a bit of excitement over it being under close scrutiny. Finally, Jimmy wrapped his hand around his and began stroking it. It grew to be a good four inches. "Now you do yours," he said. But mine had already stiffened while he was working on his. I showed it off. About four inches the same as his. "Well, it's not the size that counts, it's what you do with your dick." "That's true." "It's where you aim it." 'Uh . . .where would you aim yours . . . if you could?" "Where would I aim it?" "Yeah, Toward some girl or another guy?" "Well, that's for me to know and you to worry about, isn't it?" "I'm just asking. Just asking." "Well, you're getting a little too personal. Let's get out of here. I feel stupid lying here. This is what little kids do and we ain't little kids." He grabbed a towel and walked out my door drying himself. Minutes later, I found him in the kitchen eating the quart of vanilla ice cream mom had saved for me. Everything was gone from the fridge---the cold melons, the leftover chicken, the milk. Mom and her girlfriends had taken everything. I filled a glass with water and cooled it with pinches of ice from the freezer. "It's just too damn hot, you know?"