Gay Erotic Stories

I made a quick stop and the grocery store on the way home, picking up a few essentials and a couple of steaks. I was pretty sure that if and when Brian made it back to the apartment, he’d probably not want to dine out. If surprised, they would keep for a couple of days anyway. I arrived home at about quarter to six. I put things away and flicked on the TV. I grabbed a glass, filled it with some ice, and made myself a scotch and water, then sat down to watch the end of a golf match. I haven’t played golf since college (it interfered with my tennis game), but still have kept a keen interest in the sport). About a half an hour later, the door opened, and Brian shuffled into the apartment. “Hey, I thought you were going to call…” I began, but stopped short, when I looked at his face. He appeared emotionally drained, and I was sure things with the outlaws didn’t go well. “I…I just couldn’t talk. I just didn’t want to talk to anyone. I’ve just been driving around…” Brian continued to mumble faintly, then suddenly just let loose. “It’s over…it’s over. Jenny’s gone.” I wasn’t prepared for this revelation. Sure, I’d thought about it and had callously weighed the pro’s and con’s—from a biased perspective, but the reality of the news still was a shocker. I realized I’d not taken into account Brian’s feelings. What kind of additional private hell was being newly inflicted on him? I said nothing as I was sorting the information out in my head. Thankfully, the lack of response had a reassuringly positive effect. Secretly, I was punishing myself for my own agenda. I stood up from the couch. Brian took three or four steps forward. Within seconds, he was embracing. His arms planted around by back, quivering fingers pressing firmly through my T-shirt. He let loose. We were locked together—saying nothing. The thought occurred to me—sometimes not only is it better to say nothing, but also there are times when words just aren’t enough. The silence was a safe haven for us both. Soon, I was aware of his gentle rocking motion, cradling from side to side. He kept this up and I just went with the flow. There was nothing I could say. I decided I’d let him let it out in his own way—kind of his grief and his pace. I’d never really been good at anything like this myself, and it was more of a safe decision on my part, convenient, but probably best at the same time. Brian continued to press against me for several silent minutes. I became aware our crotches also working in unison. He was hard. Now, so was I. Now, I REALLY didn’t know what to do! Part of me said, “Now is NOT the time…nor the place…yet, I found myself desperately wanting to share myself with him—not really about sex, but the closeness, the support, unity…the sort of thing I hear women like to do, consistently. I was pondering what all this meant, when Brian suddenly backed away and then spoke, shattering the silence and any introspective thoughts I was entertaining. “If you don’t mind, I really need a stiff one!”, then realizing the potentially sadistic double meaning of his reference, he clarified, “Just something, whatever will make me numb.” “Have you eaten anything today?” I asked, not wanting to put him out of commission with a heavy-handed cocktail. “Yeah, Kev and I had something in the cafeteria. Actually, just a beer would be fine.” I had a cold one in his hands in seconds. He must have either been really thirsty, or wanted to get started quickly—he downed two thirds of the bottle without coming up for air. He finished the rest in round two. “Care for another?” I asked. I was going to give him whatever he wanted (within reason of course). “No thanks. What I NEED is some rest.” While Brian said these words, his hand clasped mine. He turned, headed for the bedroom with me in tow. I followed willingly, with the noble intention of being supportive any way I could. Brian was leaning against the side of the bed; he pulled his shirt over his head, then his hands undid his belt. I just stood there looking at this remarkable man—a strong, muscular and fit body, yet aware of more than his sensuality—his sensibilities, frailties—his vulnerability. It occurred to me--I’d not had any of these thoughts for some time—not even the last few years of my last relationship. I was immersed in these thoughts, when I felt Brian’s hand unfastening the belt of my shorts. They dropped to the floor, but I didn’t step out of them, rather I stood there—immobile, saying nothing. Next, my T-shirt was being pulled off. I absent-mindedly raised my arms to facilitate this. We were now both in our jockey shorts. A whisper left my lips, “Are you sure you want to…” Brian pulled me to him. “I was never more sure of anything.” We fell back on the bed. Brian had both of our jockeys off within seconds. We lay there for a few minutes, basking in our closeness, no barriers—clothing or otherwise. Just feeling each other breathing—the warmth of our bodies—reassuring without words—none necessary. Our lips met. A tender, expressive consolation. A feeling of absolute inner peace and joy came over me. My mind was falling into an abyss. Brian’s tongue suddenly pushed past my lips, searching the roof of my mouth, tickling me—asserting his presence. Not to be outdone, my tongue soon was dueling his—winner take all. The dueling soon spread to our groins. Brian’s stiff member played havoc with my crotch hairs, but I didn’t care—mine were probably doing the same—but he was oblivious as well. Brian pulled back his tongue, then whispered earnestly in my left ear, “I want you to fuck me…I haven’t been fucked with enough today.” I didn’t reply, my arm just found its way to the nightstand. Brian anxiously took the bottle of lubricant from my hands, while I busied myself with loading the latex. With new-found precision, Brian guided me into position, raising his legs. I inched forward, stopping respectfully at his entrance. Brian’s hands grabbed my cheeks and thrust me forward, impaling himself on the full length of my cock. He let out a whimper as he ground his teeth together. His dick twitched violently—and he shot two loads of cum across his chest. He now grabbed his shaft and pumped feverishly—another load shot forward, then another. His chest heaved as he caught his breath. I must have had one hell of a surprised look on my face. I sure hadn’t anticipated this. A most unusual—yet welcome smile flashed across his face, “Now FUCK me. Fuck the shit out of me!” he hissed. I gave him all the support I could muster. His facial contortions told me he enjoyed every thrust. The pounding didn’t last long. The electricity of the moment was too much. Brian apparently felt the end was close. He pulled himself off my cock, and eagerly separated the condom from me, a fraction of a second before the tempest. I shot a load over his head, thrashing wildly as his hands manipulated my out of control fire hose. Visually, I didn’t take in the rest of it. I closed my eyes—I don’t have any idea why. I opened them wide when the pleasure became too intense. I jerked back involuntarily. I looked down and beheld a true vision. An immediate mess, but more importantly a marvelous, caring man. For the first time in a long time, the word soul mate came to mind. Spent beyond words, I leaned forward. Brian pulled me on top of him. We didn’t say anything—actually we couldn’t, our lips were locked again, tongues doing battle. I felt Brian bucking again, then a new feeling of warmth between our crotches. “Are you hungry?” I broke the silence. “I was,” came the reply. “Actually, I think I could eat a horse,” Brian continued, gesturing with his hands and breaking into a welcome laugh. We cleaned up and I made the steaks. Brian’s mood was serious and often times interrupted with tears, as he recounted the events of the day. Jenny had passed away before he had even reached the hospital that morning. Rocky and his wife, Beverly, were waiting in an ante room when he got there. Overcome with grief, yet at the same time overcome with an urge to lash out. Words like “half-breed” and other unmentionable racial slurs, consistent with their uneducated intolerance. He’d taken Kevin to the cafeteria, more to escape than to eat, but not before Beverly (as in bitch) had told him “it’s probably the last time you’ll have him”. Kevin was just too young to understand all that had happened, and was easily pacified, sidetracked at seeing his grandma and grandpa. Brian had been viciously confronted by Rocky and Beverly upon his return. It was amazing how their anger could overcome their grief. Brian fled the hospital and had driven around until showing up at the apartment. Everything was unsettled, up in the air, a mystery, a mess. Yet, talking about it seemed to both underline the finality of it all as well as initiate closure. Certainly nothing came easy. There were many pauses, forced by uncontrollable cascades of wrenching emotion. It was after midnight when the events of the day and the limits of human endurance were exceeded. Both of us had succumbed while seated next to each other on the couch. To be continued,