Gay Erotic Stories

Did you ever wonder why a guy has one ball hanging lower than the other? I finally figured it out when I saw him standing on the dock, shucking off his shorts before diving into the still lake. I was floating in an inner tube drifting with the breeze and he strolled onto the last plank and slipped his finger under the elastic and pushed the jams down and stepped out. There they were, two of the biggest and fullest goose egg balls I had ever seen swinging halfway to his knees behind a lovely loose cut cock, one hanging, an inch or so, lower than the other. Bingo! that was it. If both sides of the scrotum were the same length they¹d slam into each other as his thighs pushed them back and forth beneath silk boxers. It would be like trying to drive two cars past each other on a one lane bridge... ouch! One higher, one lower it¹s like taking turns over the bridge. The movement is almost like a dance...at least that¹s what it looked like when he lifted the last foot out of the pile up pants on the dock and strode to the end of the board and dove in. Rick¹s were gracelessly akimbo, his floppy dick tilting to the water and those gorgeous gonads floating along before the splash. Neat and logical and tempting... and inviting to learn more, first hand, touch, mouth, about why they hang the way they do. About the time his head broke the surface again not 6 feet from where my tube drifted, I slid off of it and stroked to the same place for some ad hoc dunking and splashing, and not incidentally, clinging to keep afloat. At a resting point I could look down into the clear water and see those balls again, shriveled, a little by the coolness, buoyed, unequally, up along with their companion short arm. Being so close, I got to observe the whorls of salt and pepper hair on his body, covering his nicely muscled arms, down between the gym-built pecs across the washboard abs, growing into his thick groin nest at the root of his cock, furring the wrinkles of the sac, then adding texture to the runner¹s legs. It was all I could do not to test all the textures with my hands and fingertips. We had only be introduced up at the house an hour before and I knew nothing about him except the sketchy description our host provided of marriage history (twice divorced), inventory of kids and job (teacher). I had my sexual history and he had his and they didn¹t seem to intersect at any point. The stories didn¹t even come close enough to bring up the range of our human potential. We hiked ourselves back up onto the dock and let the sun dry us off. I spread sun block all over, taking care to protect those sensitive areas below the waist, my dick and balls, with extra care. I couldn¹t reach the middle of my back, never could, never will, so I asked Rick if he would smear some on for me. He obliged with large hands that ended in tapered fingers and slightly rough calluses. Though he couldn¹t see, his touch excited me inside with a tingling that spot between my asshole and scrotum that knots with a good sneeze. Finished, he stretched out on the planks and asked me to coat his back, too. I started at the base of his neck, swirling the stuff on first with one hand then the other, or both at once; smoothing it out my hands in tandem on the ridges of muscles that lined his spine - long sweeps, the thick of my palms pressing and massaging into the small of his back. I worked the cream onto his cheeks, into the concavities on each side of his bubble butt. I filled my hands with lotion and cupped each mound of flesh and squeezed down - thumbs in that cleft - down, around and out defining through the crease where butt meets legs - more lotion - hands stroking down the legs and coarsely silken hair. Maybe our sensibilities weren¹t so far apart... I sensed a subtle change in his breathing, in the energies expressed by his body, the tension of his muscles... he rolled over and asked me to finish. I was ready.... Two hands again, laden with the block, stroking down his chest... as the sensitive middle of my palms passed over them, I felt an excitement in the hardness of his nipples, more swirling down the abs to the curly nest of his root. I passed that focus and stretched my hands around the muscles and sinews of his thighs - pressing my thumbs again and again down through the groin crease. With each stroke, his sac-flesh caressed the backs of my hands. One side still was longer that the other as I lifted and smoothed in the protective cream, not forgetting the shaft of his still flaccid penis. I couldn¹t resist exploring the crinkly skin, the sparser curls, testing the weight of the eggs, tracing my finger from their base along that zipper-textured line to his cock root. He was moaning and getting hard. Seemed to be enjoying. Me, too and I stretch out beside his legs, resting my head on a thigh and began to nip and nibble at the loose hanging balls, licking here tasting with my teeth, there... I formed a big ³o² with my lips and drew in gently and sucked one nut into my mouth - let it fall out the drew in the other, let it roll and loll on my tongue, against my cheeks... it slipped out and I tugged on the lower one again, kept sucking ever so gently and the other followed. Just like the cars, one after the other onto the one lane bridge... traffic into my mouth. I played them against my inner flesh and against each other. There was no semblance of stillness or uninvolvlement now. Our sexualities had intersected. Rick ran fingers through my hair urging me on, stroking my shoulders the lifting me for a rich tongue-filled kiss, he stroked my raging hard-on. As our mouths locked, I kept working my spittle into his nuts, catching it where it had dribbled down his perineum with my index finger and I smoothed it onto the bud of his ass. Little tiny circles on the tight "protective" wrinkles... more kisses, tit tweaks, neck rubs. Little by little he relaxed. One of my favorite and most sensitive places is that tube of flesh between my rectal outer spincter and the anus inside... so smooth and tender - an introduction to the prostate. I wanted him to let me discover this place in him for him... The persuasion of the persistent gentle circular movements had him let go little by little. I moistened my finger on our precum and urge it in to the music of his gasps. I rested it and let him get adjusted to the feelings of penetration and acceptance, of submission and conquering his own fears... I pulled back, lowered him don again and let my face take in those wonderful balls and the raging rod and my mouth lavished attention on them all... taking his diamond cutter deep to the back of my throat, pressing my lips tightly, sealing to the ribs and cords of his cock, sucking and drawing back, tensions of the sucking countering the rearing back of my head,,, a tug of war... his cock the rope... his bushy root one team, my head the other... no losers... pulling back so my lips caught on the ridge behind his plumb head and I¹d tickle the piss-slit with my tongue... almost fucking it with my tongue as he was almost fucking my mouth... he bucked a bit as I lifted the sack and pressed my finger deep into his ass and pumped in gently. He was no longer a passive player... we had shifted to lie on our Sides heads to crotches in a perfect 69. Lord could Rick give head! New to it or not, He must have know what I wanted from what he wanted... Luxurious long pulls on my cock, suction on my scrotum to coax my balls down and out tongue to my ass, already relaxed and ready. My fingers in him a clue to him, he eased up a bit and put both thumbs in and worked it. I don¹t know how we kept it sorted out, the complicated sensations in the sun... four hands in motion, two mouths, four balls two raging, diamond cutter hardons in all the combinations possible. One , two three fingers working his ass, his in mine, mouth working my dick at the same time..... He rolled me to my back and spread my legs and I felt the largeness of him pressing against the forgiving but not quite ready ass spincters. a gasp from me, a pause from him and the on in and I welcomed to sensations. His goose eggs rested as he rested against my cheeks; they rustled and moved as he began his thrusting, slapping again and again. I made him stop and I rolled him to his back... and opened his ass to me. Instinctively he struck a yoga-like pose and drew an ankle in each hand and pulled towards his shoulders... I licked his ass-bud wetting it... I pushed a trio of fingers in deeply and he flinched... I took lotion and mixed it with his spit on my cock and pressed it to his ass, easing it in... pausing to let his breathing catch up and the tensions to adjust... My balls don¹t hang and swing so the sounds were of our panting and my skin slapping the back of his legs. I thrust over and over, I stroked his cock.. his ass took and worked my cock... and at the same time my hand worked his... the rhythm built... I came in his asses darkness as he shot pearls into the sun. So - that¹s why one ball hangs lower than the other... so they don¹t bang into each other when we wear boxer shorts and walk