Gay Erotic Stories

I took notice of him right away that first day. It was a huge lecture class that met at 8:00 in the morning and it wasn't going to be very easy to drag myself out of bed to get there. At least the weather was still nice. The professor up front used a huge screen and a PA system in order to be seen and heard before the class of approximately 300. It didn't take long for me to notice the guy about three rows up, and what caught my attention right away was how the hair on his neck seemed to extend from his slightly balding head right down into the back of his t-shirt. I was determined to run forward at the end of class and see if he was as sexy-looking from the front as he was from behind. Unfortunately though, this extremely annoying bitch next to me asked to see my notes from the last couple of minutes of the lecture -- seems like she'd missed something and needed to copy my notes. By the time I got away from her the guy in front was long gone. Damn! The next time the class met I barely got there on time. In fact, as I settled into my seat I could see the graduate assistant who was taking attendance look up and frown, then erase a mark next to my name. It was almost as if he was getting points for making note of absent students. The overly cheerful bitch next to me started yacking immediately and I tried to ignore her by turning my attention a few rows ahead. Oh shit! I needed to put my notebook down on my lap to conceal my immediate hard-on at what I saw. The guy I'd noticed the first class was there again, this time he wore a yellow tank-top with very thin straps and it was cut way in back. His huge broad shoulders and back were enough to impress anybody, but the thing that got to me was the fact that his entire body seemed to be completely coated with thick near-black hair. No wonder it had appeared that his neck hair extended right into the back of his shirt. Hell, it extended damned near everywhere. This was the closest thing to a god-damned gorilla I'd ever seen and I couldn't think about anything else for the next 90 minutes. At the conclusion of the class the bitch said "Looks like you might need to borrow my notes today" and I asked what she meant. She pointed to the piece of paper in front of me upon which I hadn't written a thing. I'd been too distracted by the sight of the furry fellow down front to hear even a word of the whole lecture. "We could meet later and you could copy my....." she started to say, but I was out of my seat before she could finish. I was determined this day not to miss an opportunity to see if this guy was as hairy all over as he appeared to be. In my effort to get out into the aisle I stumbled and literally fell on my face on the stairs leading toward the exit. Collecting my books (if not my dignity) I looked up and saw myself staring at a pair of the most muscular, thickly coated legs I've ever seen. "Here, let me help you up" a deep voice boomed and I felt myself being lifted front he floor. As I rose I could see flashes of an enormous bulge in the basket of his cut- off jean shorts, and (this may have been my imagination but I don't think so) even a number of hairs on his belly seemed to poke right through the yellow material of his shirt. The front of the tank-top was very low cut, and the sides were cut way in, revealing most of his upper chest and his big beefy arms. Everything on front was as thickly (if not more so) covered with thick coarse black curls of hair as was his back. As I looked into his face I recognized him at once. I figured he wouldn't remember me though. I mean the last time I'd seen Clint McCall I was in seventh grade and I've changed a lot in the last six year between then and starting college. "Damien Reed is that you?" he said, shocking me by the fact that he remembered me. I'd never even had him for class, just a fifteen minute homeroom that met twice a week. Oh yeah wait, there'd been one time that McCall substituted for my regular gym teacher. Every eight grade guy idolized him, and could hardly wait to get into high school where McCall was the head varsity football coach. Every junior high girl was in love with him even though he was married and had a couple of kids (as if they had any chance even if he were single). He was listed on my schedule as my eight grade gym teacher, but when school started there was no Clint McCall there. He'd resigned very abruptly right before school began and our replacement was a real jerk. I suppose back when I was twelve I hadn't noticed what a hunk McCall was, but that was before I noticed a lot of things about other guys (and about myself as well). He explained that he was back in school to get his master's degree so that he could make some better money. "Yeah it must be difficult to raise a family on a teacher's salary" I said, and he mentioned almost nonchalantly that he was no longer married, that his ex-wife and her new husband had sole custody of his kids. "It was sort of a messy divorce" he said. "Was that why you left Lincoln back when I was going into eighth grade?" I asked, and he said that was only a part of his reason. Then, almost as if to change the subject he said "Hey look Damien, I've got another class right now but why don't you come by the house tonight and we'll catch up on old times. I'm house-sitting for a buddy of mine who's on sabbatical for a year. He didn't want to rent his place out but didn't want it empty either so I'm staying there for free. There's a pool and everything. Bring your trunks and I'll throw some steaks on the grill. What do you say?" What do you think I said? The idea of having an alternative to dorm food was great, but just spending time with the big burly guy was enough to make me jump at the chance. He scribbled down some directions and told me it was just a couple of blocks off the #21 bus route. I got there around 5:00 and saw a note tacked to the front door. "Damien, come around back" it said. I followed the sidewalk around the side of the house glad that I'd worn the "safe" trunks underneath my jeans. Back when I was in high school, swimming on the team I was always embarrassed by the team Speedos because they were so revealing. No one else on the team was concerned, but no one else on the team had an 11 inch cock as a sophomore. What should have been my pride and joy turned out to be a burden to bear. Going to McCall's place that afternoon I'd debated on what to wear. Shorts and a pullover shirt seemed safe enough, but he'd made a special point of saying that this place had a pool. I tried on my dinky, revealing trunks and realized that if I got at all excited (which I was certain to do) it would be very obvious. A pair of surfer-style trunks seemed safest and that's what I put on under my jeans. Rounding the building where McCall was "house- sitting" I saw that the back yard was considerably larger than the front, occupied mostly by a pool larger than most in a private home. I turned the corner and saw McCall's head above the water and called out to him. "Hey Damien, c'mon in" he shouted, and I stripped off my shirt and shorts, headed to the diving board and dove into the deep end of the pool. "Wanna' play some basketball?" he asked, pointing to the nets on either side of the shallow end and we moved the side leg of the "L-shaped" pool. That's when I got my first look at Clint McCall's totally bare (or "bear") upper body. When all that thick body coat was wet it seemed even darker and denser than what I'd noticed earlier that day in the lecture hall. We went through the motions of this stupid water basketball game for a while and then he climbed out of the pool and headed for the bar-on-wheels by the water's edge. It took every bit of my will-power not to make an audible reaction to the sight of him as he climbed up the ladder. I'd been concerned about wearing my swim-team trunks thinking they were too revealing. Compared to the suit McCall wore those would have been tame. It wasn't exactly a thong suit, but the pouch in front was really small, stretched to the limit by an obviously ample endowment, and the rest of the suit had only a small panel in the back and a pair of thin strips connecting the front to the back on each side. It did virtually nothing to conceal the man's beefy thighs, densely coated with hair or his incredibly well- mounded buttocks.....likewise blanketed with dark fur. I'd honestly never seen a man quite so hairy as he was and found myself glad that I was still in the water so he was unable to see just HOW impressed I was with his hairiness. Eventually he coaxed me out of the water to join him for a drink and that drink led to another and one more. "Guess I ought to get the coals started huh?" he said, and I told him I wasn't in any great rush to eat. "Do you still swim competitively?" he asked, and I gave him a surprised look. "How'd you know I swam in high school?" I asked, reminding him that he'd already left Lincoln by then. "It's obvious, at least it is to someone who's savvy enough to understand what muscles develop from what sport. I'm doing my masters in sports medicine and kinesiology" he explained. "You've certainly got a swimmers build, long and lean, with strong shoulder and arm muscles" he said, running his hand over my shoulder and down my bare arm. "I've always admired the discipline of a swimmer" he went on, adding that he could never have done it. "I'll say you couldn't, but I don't think it has anything to do with discipline" I insisted. "Huh, what are you talking about?" he wanted to know. "I'm talking about the fact that you'd be constantly slowed down by all this" and I reached out and grabbed a handful of his thick chest mat. It was an action I probably wouldn't have done without benefit of the booze loosening me up a bit. Oh, I would have WANTED to do it, but might have held back. "Yeah, pretty gross huh?" he said, and I replied immediately. "Gross nothing! I think it's sexy as hell!" and I reinforced that statement by running my hand all over his hairy front. "I wish I had just a little bit of this". "Well, I wish I could give you about half of it. I've certainly got plenty to spare, just like you appear to have something you could give up half of and still be okay". "What's that?" I asked naively, and he reached down and put his hand squarely on my crotch. "C'mon Damien, even these dorky trunks you're wearing can't hide what you've got inside them. Take 'em and show me what you've got kid" he suggested. I stood up and he put his hands on either side of my trunks, yanked them down in one big tug and my big 11- incher plopped out right in front of him. "Aw shi-i-it!" he gasped and he lunged down and took the head of it right into his mouth. I felt his tongue working my piss-slit and knew that I was already oozing out clear pearly pre-cum. With each downward lunch he was able to take a bit more of my huge shaft into his mouth, and I couldn't believe it when I felt his rough-whiskered face press right up against my bare body. Jesus, McCall had almost a foot of cock inside his mouth and was sucking it like there was no tomorrow. I knew I wasn't going to last long and I warned him that I was about to come, thinking that he'd want to let go. Instead he started sucking even harder and I yelled out as I felt my balls unleash their huge load (a blast of spunk much larger than any I'd ever pumped out by beating off). He kept on sucking and swallowing, massaging my cock with the muscles deep down in his throat, draining me until I had nothing left to get. Only then did he release his lip-lock on my dick. "Wow! That was incredible!" he said, getting up off his knees and pressing his lips to mine. I felt his tongue invade my mouth and could taste my own cum inside him. It was a real turn-on, but not nearly so much as the feel of his hairy body next to mine. I wrapped my arms around his broad back and reveled in the feel of his thick coarse body-blanket beneath my hands. I ran my hands up either side, realizing that the hair front the front sort of blended into the hair on his back to give him a furry-all-over effect. I slipped my thumbs into the tiny straps that held the two halves of his dinky swim trunks together and tried to pull. "Get these god-damned things off!" I said, and we broke our embrace just long enough for me to tug his tight- fitting trunks down. He wasn't quite so well endowed as me, maybe 8 or 9 inches, but the sight of his cock buried in a literal forest of hair excited the hell out of me. "I want to suck your cock now" I told him, and he insisted that I didn't have to. "I really WANT to" I assured him, but admitted that I'd never done it before and he would need to tell me what to do. Clint McCall had always been a good coach, no one understood why he quit our school after a couple of years of winning teams. It used to be said that he had a gift for coaching. Well, he certainly was successful in "coaching" me as to how to suck cock. At first I had a little difficulty accommodating his very thick meat, but once he explained to me how to relax the muscles inside my throat I found that I could take him almost entirely without choking or gagging. All the while that I sucked him I squeezed my hands against his muscular hairy buttocks, holding them while he fucked my face with his fat cock. At one point he suggested that I pull his hairy buns apart and finger his ass-hole, so I did. Then he told me to shove my middle finger up into him, and I did. Then (without being told to) I added another finger and yet a third. Somehow he was able to take them easily. Only my thumb and pinkie remained outside the hairy chute of his ass. "C'mon baby, fuck me with your fingers. Shove them way up there. I want you to finger my as while I fuck your face!" "Aw shit, here it comes!" he said, warning me of his impending explosion. Unlike him, I wasn't able to swallow and gulp fast enough, and most of his huge load shot all over my face. I wanted to get it all, but the force of his ejaculation was just too much for me to handle. I smeared my cum-coated face against his hairy belly and against his chest, rubbing the snotty white goo all over his front. Still though, there was plenty left on my face when I stood next to him and he started to lick me off like an adoring puppy dog might do. "Let's go inside" he said, picking me up as if I were as light as a feather and carrying me into the house where he showed me there was lots more that two horny men could do with one another. After he'd taken my enormous cock up his hairy ass he admitted to me that he'd been waiting for this ever since he saw me in the shower room as a seventh grader. "No shit Damien, I substituted once for your class and couldn't get over how well-hung you were for a 12-year old. I couldn't believe it when I ran into you this morning in that stupid lecture class. I've been hot for you for a long time!" After he told me that I explained that I knew even back then that I dug guys who were really hairy and really muscular.....men like him. "I can't begin to tell you how disappointed I was when you weren't my eighth grade gym teacher" I said, and once again I asked him why he'd left our school. He related to me (in pretty graphic detail) how his wife had come home one afternoon and caught him in the family room of their home with the entire varsity football team going at it. Clint had his cock buried up the ass of his "tight-end" and his mouth filled with the dick of a lineman. Up his own butt was not one, but two cocks of a pair of tackles. To make matters worse, they were the twin sons of the school board president and when McCall's wife blew the whistle on things Clint had only one option. He could either resign or be thrown into jail. "You see Damien, I didn't have a whole lot of power to negotiate for visitation rights after that. The funny thing is that after Gloria remarried and her new husband wanted to legally adopt the kids she admitted to me that neither of them were mine. She'd been fucking around almost as much as I was and had the blood tests to prove it. That meant I couldn't be held liable for child support but she married rich so she didn't give a shit. It was easier for her to be rid of me than to take the paltry amount I'd been sending for the kids I thought were mine." So there you have it! I moved my stuff out of the dorm the very next day. Oh yeah I was paid up for the whole semester but it didn't matter. McCall and I became lovers in every sense of the word, and by Christmas break I managed to tell my folks about him. They went off the deep end, but I reminded them that I was well over eighteen and that I could make my own decisions regarding my personal life. They threatened to cut me off financially if I didn't "come to my senses" but the only senses I could rely on were the ones that Clint McCall brought out in me. Eventually they will come around, but in the mean- time things between me and my big hairy ape-man are as good as it can get.