Gay Erotic Stories

Yes, I remember exactly the day I found the diary. We were up in my uncle Grady's attic, where I'd just fucked my cousin Eric and was bent over this old trunk to take his cock up my hot and hairy ass- hole. Eric wasn't quite so good as his younger brother Tim or his older brother Mike, so I was easily distracted by the fact that the latches on the trunk were unlocked. I didn't do anything about it right then, but later on, after we'd finished our pre-lunch fuck I sneaked back up into the attic alone and pulled up the top of the trunk. Inside there were a number of things that held little interest for me, but there was a diary that I couldn't resist opening. It didn't take long for me to realize that my cousins and I weren't the first in our family to get off on gay incest. Despite the age of this diary (entries dated back to the mid 1860's) I was amazed at how well preserved the paper was, and how legible the writing was. The author of this particular diary was Jordan St. Germaine. Jordan's mother was Claire Davis, the only daughter of "Colonel" Beauregard Clayton Davis. Tracing the family line down from Jordan to my uncle Grady and my mother (Grady's twin sister) ended up being quite a round-about route. I opened the diary up to about the middle and began to read "....another huge fight between mother and father. He's so unreasonable when he's drunk and that's most of the time lately. She's given him no reason to make his outrageous claims that she is unfaithful to him. To the contrary, I'm surprised she has remained this long. Hopefully I will not inherit his penchant for overindulgence any more than I have inherited his physical features. Mother says that I am the image of her brother Boyd when he was my age. Someday I hope to meet my uncle - a man rumored to be a privateer on a pirate ship. I know I should not admire that kind of profession, but I cannot help but be intrigued by the idea. Soon I will turn eighteen and could leave to go out on my own. Fear that father may harm mother during one of this drunken rages is one of the things that keeps me here in New Orleans....... several pages later I read: The inevitable has happened. Last night (this morning actually) on his way home from one of his drinking binges father was thrown from his horse and broke his neck. I wish I could be sorry, but my only thought is that this accident will make life much better for mother and I. Ironically, I turn eighteen today. Due to the heat and possibility of disease we buried father immediately. There were few mourners at the gravesite..... a few pages later Jordan states: Mourners were in short supply, but there has been no scarcity of creditors visiting our home since father's death. We will have to sell everything we own to pay off his gambling debts. Mother has made plans to return to Seven Oaks (her childhood home) as soon as we can scrape up the train fare. The stable boy has been let go, as have all the house servants, so I must go to the blacksmith shop today to have our one remaining horse reshod..... an entry from the very next day spiced up considerably. In it Jordan tells: ....was quite dark inside the blacksmith's shop except for the area where the fire blazed an intense red. I stepped inside and saw the smith, a huge barrel of a man, nearly as broad as he was tall. He was almost completely bald except for a fringe of black around his ears and a few strands on top of his head. He wore a dark leather apron to shield him from sparks as he hammered the hot iron rod into a horse-shoe shape. His arms were enormous and muscular, blanketed with thick curls of dark hair and upon my approach to him I could easily see that the same dense coating completely covered his chest and shoulders. As he bent to dip the steel into a bucket of water I saw that his back was also thoroughly coated. He looked more like a bear than a man but the effect on me was immediate. I felt my cock stiffen inside my breeches and hoped he would not be able to detect my arousal. Favio Mourniere was a French-Canadian who spoke with a thick accent. He suggested that I go to the corner market for some bread, cheese and wine and that he would shoe my horse after lunch. I hadn't enough money to purchase the food AND pay for his services but I did as he said anyway. Upon my return from the market I saw that he had allowed the fire to subside a bit and had removed his leather apron. The sight of his almost grotesquely hairy body may have frightened or disgusted some but I found it to be incredibly arousing. He took me into the back of the shop where it was even darker but somewhat cooler (a result of the distance from the fire) where he set the cheese and bread on a small table. As he pulled the cork from the bottle of wine he discussed how I could pay for his services. We drank the wine from crystal glasses that looked very similar to ones my mother had recently sold. I had expected he would want me to sweep the floors or clean the horse stalls but he had other ideas. From Favio that day I learned that two men can do wildly satisfying things for one another. His short stature was misleading. As he stood up and removed his breeches I gasped at the size of his huge manhood. It had to be a foot long and thick as my arm. As he leaned over and took my own organ between his lips it grew to similar proportions and before I could stop him he had my whole cock inside his mouth. I felt my climax building and I exploded inside his mouth. While he started to swallow as fast as possible he could not accommo date all I was spewing and much of my eruption dribbled out onto his hairy chest and shoulders..... on a later entry Jordan states: .....I no longer feel any discomfort at all when Favio inserts his huge manhood into my ass. In fact, when it's not there I feel somehow empty. I can hardly believe how happy I am when I am with him, laying with my head resting on his sweat- drenched hair-coated chest. My visits have become almost daily and I cannot wait until the next one.... Wow, Jordan's descriptions of having sex with this hairy blacksmith are a real turn-on. Unfortunately, for him (and for me) they came to an end: Today after mother informed me that we were booked for the train tomorrow I told her that I could not possibly leave New Orleans. Of course it was not possible to explain that it was because of Favio that I wished to stay. It was the only real argument the two of us have ever had, and I left the house to head to the river-front district where Favio's shop was. I knew I had to leave but couldn't imagine not having his big cock up my hole (or mine pounding into his hairy ass) ever again. As I approached the smith's shop I noticed that the door was shut and a crude note had been tacked to the door. Parts of it were in French, but the gist of the note was that Favio had closed up and was returning to Montreal to be with his wife and seve children... There were several pages of writing while on the train from New Orleans to Charleston. Some of them dealt with descriptions of the land, others were bittersweet recollections of his secret meetings with the burly blacksmith. Toward the end of their trip something happened to distract Jordan's attention from his Canadian lover: ...everyone was cheering as he strained his body against the iron rod inserted directly into the inner workings of the locomotive. Cash McCall had stripped off his shirt, causing his blond/brown chest mat to glisten in the late morning sunlight. The train had been stopped for some time and most of the passengers had gotten out for some air. Women covered their ears as the crude railroad man cursed and swore at the jammed mechanism. "C'mon you nasty son-of-a-bitch!" he shouted and the muscles in his arms and back bulged and strained against the iron locomotive. Suddenly there was a loud groaning sound followed by a sharp "pop" and the gears of the locomotive began to turn again. Cheers went up for the man who'd managed to prevent us from spending the entire day in the blistering sun while waiting for another locomotive to come get us. As a crowd of passengers gathered round the hero the engineer came out and told Cash McCall to take the rest of the day off. (that meant only that someone else would handle his shift since he was pretty well stuck on the train). As he walked past me I knew I had only a few hours to satisfy my desire for this rugged and hairy hero. Once we were on the way again I told mother I was a little restless and was going to the dining car. She made a comment abouy the young woman from Nashville who had boarded the train the day after we left New Orleans. I'm sure mother thinks I am taken with that young lady. If she only knew...... from another entry of the same date: ....I nearly missed making the jump from the last car into the caboose. I'd stood at the railing for a few moments before Cash appeared at the opening of the caboose and motioned for me to jump. It didn't take long once I was inside the tiny stifling car for us to get down to business. Cash handed me a bottle of cheap whiskey and I took a big sip before he shoved me to my knees to take his huge hard cock in my mouth. All the while that I sucked him I ran my hands over his hairy front. He wasn't quite so heavily coated as Favio but almost. Cash's thick body pelt was considerably lighter in color, but similar in texture to my most recent lover. I left the caboose several hours later with a huge load of McCall's come up my ass. When I returned to my seat next to mother she asked if I had a good visit with the young girl from Nashville. "Yes mother" I replied "I had a wonderful afternoon!" It was true...... several days passed before the next entry into Jordan's diary. He indeed had been too busy to write: ....I noticed him on the ride from the station to Seven Oaks. His broad back stretched the material of his shirt and there was something very primitively attractive about him. Noah is the stable boy for my grandfather, one of hundreds of slaves that the family owns. His mother is Dilcie who runs the house hold. Dilcie and my mother grew up together and mother even admitted to me that she'd taught the slave girl to read when they were youngsters. As is typical with slaves, Noah's father was never clearly identified. My first night at Seven Oaks was fraught with anxious thoughts. During dinner I could hardly keep my eyes off my uncle Boyd, the man my mother insists I favor. Dressed in formal dining clothes the man appears quite dashing and virile. His handsome face required a second shave that day in order to be totally presentable, but the scruffy stubble he wore to dinner made him all the more exciting to me. I lay awake wondering what it would be like to have my uncle naked and next to me. Thoughts such as these should not be in my head, but I can't help it. I looked out the window of my room and saw a lantern-lit stable and decided to take a walk. Once inside the stables I rounded the stalls and saw a bare-chested Noah brushing one of the horses. His smooth black skin glowed in the light of the lantern and I couldn't help but notice the shape of his nicely formed buttocks. He turned to greet me and I saw that the front of his trousers were extremely distended. Evidently ours was a mutual attraction. Favio once told me that black men have huge male organs....at least that is the legend. Though he was only a few months older than me, Noah possessed a cock that was nearly as large as Favio's or Cash McCall's. Being fucked by this ebony skinned stable boy was damned near as good as the older, more experienced men. When I penetrated his black ass with my own cock it was obvious that he'd been well-trained by someone else there on Seven Oaks. I wonder who?....... from about a week later: ....today I watched as Boyd beat Noah within an inch of his life. Apparently the slave had said something my uncle perceived as impudent and he had Noah tied to a tree where he whipped him with a cat-o-nine-tails. Oddly enough, as Boyd returned to the house with his white shirt draped over his shoulder, exposing a hairy chest and belly for me to see, all I could think about was having sex with him. I found it impossible to control myself and exploded inside my breeches as I watched Boyd strut across the main foyer of the house. I have decided that after everyone goes to bed tonight I will slip into Boyd's room and tell him how I feel. It may cause disgrace to the family but I can't contain myself any longer in my desire for my extremely handsome and wildly erotic uncle. nearly a week passed before the next entry: ....once inside Boyd's room there was little doubt as to why I'd come. I indicated my desire to him and he said he'd been waiting for me to come to his room since the first day I arrived. "Was my attraction to you that obvious?" I asked, and he said that I was like everyone else who meets him. Boyd Davis is an arrogant braggart but he knows he's damned near irresistible to everyone who meets him. Making love to my uncle made everyone else pale by comparison. He took command of me in a way that no other man ever could (or will again) and I vowed to be his sex-slave forever if he will just keep my ass filled with his incredibly huge cock. Yes, Boyd is bigger than anyone I've ever met, larger than Cash McCall or Noah or even Favio. Now I began to understand why I'm so attracted to my cousins, and even my uncle Grady. It's all hereditary! Reading about how Jordan was fucked by his uncle Boyd made me want to find my uncle Grady and do the same thing right then and there. Instead, I read on: ...today the unthinkable happened. While I lay naked on Boyd's bed, my legs up to my chest to take his huge manhood up inside me, mother walked in and caught us. Instead of being furious (as I would have expected) she sat down on the bed with us and said that she had a confession of her own to relate. Her sudden departure from Seven Oaks nearly 19 years earlier had been a surprise to everyone who knew her. A whirl-wind romance with Gervase St. Germaine resulted in her marriage and move to New Orleans with him. Somehow she convinced him that I was conceived on their wedding night and that my birth was several weeks early. As I listened to her tell the truth I could hardly believe what I was hearing. The real father of the child she carried when she married Gervase St. Germaine was Boyd Davis, her own brother. The two of them had been having sex for some time and when she became pregnant with me the only solution was to leave Seven Oaks and pretend to be happily married to someone else. More surprises surfaced throughout the day. Dilcie, the slave who grew up in the house with my mother was the product of my grandfather's affair with a black woman. That makes Dilcie a half-sister to both Boyd and my mother. But that's not the end. Dilcie's child Noah was fathered by Boyd as well, and while he may have been angry enough to whip the stable boy a few days ago, he more often than not is fucking him. I figured it was a very large cock that had opened Noah's ass so well, but I never suspected my uncle. Let's see, that makes Noah my half-brother as well, since both he and I were sired by Boyd..... several more days pass before the next entry: ....as if the events of the last few days have not been enough, there is tragedy at Seven Oaks. Grandfather, upon hearing that Fort Sumter was fired upon has had a fatal attack. Immediately following his interment in the orchard Boyd made arrangements for us to sail immediately to Davis Island, a small family owned piece of property in an area that Boyd calls the Caribbean sea. Only a few of us will make the journey, Boyd, mother and I, as well as Dilcie and Noah. It appears that Dilcie is already pregnant with another child of Boyds. Mother hadn't known when we left New Orleans but she is also with child. The natural assumption is that the baby was fathered by Gervase St. Germaine, but she confided that they had not had sex for years prior to his death. I heard her tell Dilcie that the father of her child was none other than Favio Mourniere and I felt simultaneously jealous and thrilled that I would someday have a younger brother who might resemble the man who'd introduced me to the life of man-to-man sex I've so come to love. (That explains how our family wine goblets ended up in Favio's back room). ...As we settle in to life on this family-owned island (Boyd secured it during his days as a pirate) I can imagine that there will be a considerable degree of "inbreeding" happening. Oh, there's one more person who joined our group. It seems that Cash McCall had been a member of Boyd's pirate crew before joining the railroad. His experience as a sailor (as well as his fantastic hairy body) made him a real addition to the voyage..... Unfortunately, this page marked the end of the diary, though I imagined there might be another in the trunk. I put down the book and heard a voice behind me say "Pretty hot stuff isn't it?" Looking around I saw my uncle Grady standing on the stairs. He'd come up to the attic directly from the beach and I couldn't help but admire how he looked. Somehow, as I read the account of what Boyd Davis looked like, all rugged and handsome and quite hairy I kept thinking of my uncle Grady. Seeing him now I could well imagine why Jordan was so taken with his uncle. He looked straight at me and said "Wanna' fuck?" We did of course, that afternoon and when- ever possible after that. Oh yeah, I still make it with his three sons as well, but uncle Grady puts them all to shame with his huge cock and his hairy body. "Hey Drew" he said to me today, "how did you feel when you read that Jordan's 'uncle' was really his father. Were you turned on or grossed out?" "Are you kidding? I think it's about the hottest thing I've ever heard" I told him. "Why do you ask?" "Well, I've got a little confession of my own to make" Grady said and he went on to explain that Boyd and Claire Davis weren't the only brother- sister within our perverted family to fuck around. "Your mom's never told anybody but me about this, but I'm not your uncle...I'm your father!" Well I'll be damned! I might just have to write a diary of my own.