Gay Erotic Stories

I guess I've always liked the danger of being caught. Back as a little kid I used to steal things from the drugstore just for the thrill of stealing. It wasn't like we couldn't afford those cheap things I would slip into my pockets and grin as I walked out the door. I got caught smoking in the garage when I was eleven, but I can't begin to tell you how many times I'd done that before getting caught. Throughout most of my high school years there was a bottle of something hidden in the bottom shelf of my locker, and they didn't even suspect that it was there, until I finally got caught during my senior year. I was in the Navy back before anyone ever thought of the expression "don't-ask-don't-tell". How was I supposed to know that the young enlisted man they caught me fucking was the son-in-law of the admiral. My departure from the service was immediate and definite. There's just something about the risk of getting caught that's always excited the hell out of me, especially when it comes to being with other guys. We'd just moved into the new house, the monstrosity up on the hill in the "right" side of town. I was in the shower and almost didn't answer the door at all, but then I recalled that my wife had made an appointment to have cable installed into the new "entertainment system". Like the rest of the house it was too much, too expensive and would probably not get a lot of use. Still, Gloria had insisted on doing the "up-scale" version of it. I'd just as soon be back across town in the little bungalow where we'd been for the previous two years. With her career taking off and the need to entertain people "at certain levels," Gloria had insisted that we move to better quarters. What the hell! I stepped out of the shower and the water turned off automatically due to some sensor thing built into the wall, wrapped a towel around my waist and answered the door. There was no doubt that it was the cable guy. His uniform shirt advertised the company name on front, and on the left upper corner was the embroidered named "Mike". "C'mon in, I'm sorry it took me so long to answer the door," I apologized and he said it was okay. I led him to the "entertainment" room and heard him explain "Holy fuckin' shit! Look at this setup!" "Pretty outrageous isn't it?" I commented and he just stood there staring at the several thousand dollars worth of hi-tech equipment built into the wall. "Go ahead and get started and I'll finish my shower" I said, but I didn't tell him the real reason I needed to leave the room. Truth was that I was afraid the front of my towel would start to tent outward, due to the fact that I was really turned on by how hot this young guy looked. I figured him to be in his mid-20's or so. He wasn't really big, a few inches shorter than me, and a little stockier. No the thing that got to me about Mike was the appearance of a thick coating of dark hair all over his arms and poking out the opening of his work shirt. His face looked like he hadn't shaved in a week and I wondered what the coarse whiskers would feel like rubbing against my relatively smooth butt. I went back into the bathroom, stepped into the shower and the water went back on automatically. I finished up my shower and dried off, then opted for a pair of loose-fitting jogging shorts rather than the expensive Chinese silk robe that hung on the hook. (Gloria had gotten it for me on a recent trip there). I returned to the entertainment room and saw Mike leaning over to make some connection to the TV receiver. The back of his shirt rode up to expose a lower back thickly coated with dark hair and I realized I was staring. He stood up and turned to greet me with an announcement that he was just finishing up. He took the remote control switch and cycled through at least 30 stations, each of them more useless and unnecessary than the one before it. It struck me as odd that we never watched TV at all but somehow needed to have the premium level of cable installed. Mike allowed the picture to stop on one station, one showing a shot of two big-breasted women kissing. "Whoa, what's that?" I said, surprised that anything of this sort would be on TV, even on cable. "Oh that's the Adult Channel. You can see 'teasers' all day long, but have to call for a special code to punch in if you want to see the whole thing," he explained. "I watched it last night at my place.....it's not worth it," he added. Just then the screen went blank and another advertisement came on. "See what I mean?" he said, and I realized he was starting at me. "Some thing wrong?" I asked, and he said he was just looking at my tattoo. "That's really cool" he said, pointing to the outrageous figure I'd had permanently etched onto my shoulder during my stint in the navy. A bunch of us had gone out one night and gotten drunker than shit before visiting the tattoo parlor. Mine had been the most outrageous of the lot, originally more obscene than it is now. Gloria had insisted before we were married that I visit a dermatologist to see about having it removed. I never kept the appointment there but insisted to her that it was there for good. Our compromise was that I go to a second tattoo artist and have some changes made on it to make it more "socially acceptable". Her most irrational fear was that one of her co-workers or friends would someday see me without a shirt on and would see my tattoo. When she's not around I almost never wear a shirt, and something told me Mike Polk was not going to object. "Can I touch it?" he asked, running his finger over the picture of a devilish character with a serpent-like tail extending over my shoulder and under my arm. Then he went on to explain that he'd once tried to get a tattoo on his arm but the guy told him it wouldn't show up well because of all the hair. "Well, you could get it somewhere else" I suggested "unless you're that hairy all over!" It was just the thing he needed to hear. He reached down and pulled his shirt up over his head and I couldn't help myself from saying, "Oh shit!" His entire front was completely coated, from neck to waist with thick, near-black hair. It wasn't as heavy on his shoulders, but there was some there, and his arms looked like those of a gorilla. I didn't wait for an invitation, nor did I ask permission. Instead, I just reached out and put my hands against his furry chest, feeling a pair of well-mounded, muscular pecs beneath the thick blanket. I could feel his nipples react immediately to the feel of my hands, and I leaned forward to press my mouth to his. Inside his mouth ,I could taste the combined flavors of cigarettes and booze. He probably kept a bottle under the seat of his truck. We kissed that way for a while, our tongues digging deep into one another's mouth while I continued to roam over the hairy expanse of his body. I felt his hands slip into the back of my running shorts and he cupped my twin buttocks, squeezing them and pressing me into his mid- section. We were both hard, and I could feel his cock through the material of his jeans. I fumbled with the snap and the zipper and pulled them down as I dropped to my knees in front of him. Mike wore no underwear at all, so it was very easy to get to his cock. Not so big as mine, it was still thick and already oozing out pearly droplets of pre-cum. As you can guess, it was nestled in an absolute forest of pubic hair. His legs and ass were as hairy (if not more so) than his upper body, and I ran my hands all over him as I took his hard cock down my throat. It didn't take long for him to lose control, and I felt him blast his load into my face. I started swallowing as hard and fast as I could but there was just too much for me to get it all. Lots of his load dribbled out the sides of my mouth, onto my bare chest and then onto the expensive white carpet ($56 per yard) that Gloria had put in the room. "Turn around" I said to him, and he did so, presenting me with just about the hairiest ass I've ever seen. "Oh shit!" I exclaimed, diving right in and burying my face in the fur-pie of his butt crack. I've rimmed plenty of guys before him, but few who could compare to the animal appeal of his almost grotesque hairiness. Each time I withdrew my tongue from the puckered opening I could feel dozens of hairs coming out with it. As I spit them out onto the white carpet they mingled with the pool of cum already there. "Aw yeah, eat my ass!" he said, encouraging me to shove my tongue way up his hole. Finally when he couldn't stand it any longer he asked (hell, he BEGGED) me to fuck him. He leaned his dirty hands against the fabric of the $4000 sofa and kind of bent over to accommodate my cock invading his ass-hole. It was a tight fit, but it was obvious that this hot and hairy stud had been fucked before if he could take me without screaming out in pain. There were screams all right, but only the combined ones of his and my lusty pleasure. I grunted and swore like a trucker as I rammed my big cock deep up his hairy fuck-hole and he went on and on about how great it felt to be fucked so deep. As our frenzied ass-fuck built in intensity we got louder and louder, making it impossible for either of us to hear when the front door opened. I had already warned him that I was about to come up his butt when a voice behind us demanded to know what was going on. I pulled my cock out of Mike Polk's pulsing ass-hole, but it was too late to stop my explosion. It was about as much as I can ever recall shooting, and it spewed all over the hairy base of his lower back, up into the hair on his head, all over the surface of the silk sofa and more onto the expensive carpeting beyond. I think my wife was less upset with catching me fucking another man in our house than she was with the fact that we'd ruined her furniture and carpet. Like from the navy, my ejection from the house was immediate and definite. Getting caught with Mike was worth it!