Gay Erotic Stories

It was an unusually hot October day. The dorm was not air conditioned, so I had the window open. I had been jogging earlier, and I was still shirtless in a pair of running shorts, studying on my bed. The door opened, and my roommate also in gym clothes, staggered into the room. He pulled off his top and his shorts and fell face down on the bed.

"You’re late today," I commented. "Rough practice? You look like shit." That was a lie. Tim never looked like shit, and certainly not face down on the bed wearing only his jock.

"Coach said we were loafing," he replied. "He really loaded it on. I’ve never ached so much in my life. Even my ass hurts."

"Oh yeah?" I offered. "Just what goes on in gymnastics practice?"

"Fuck you. The muscles hurt. You can laugh if you want, but I feel like I’ve just fallen down a staircase."

Tim and I had been roommates for about six weeks and friends for the better part of a year. We had hit it off in English class last Spring. Since neither of us was thrilled with the roommates assigned to us as freshmen, we decided to room together sophomore year. Tim was a smart jock, and I was an athletically active "brain". Both our families were dirt poor. He was getting a free ride for his abilities in gymnastics and track and I for my grades and SAT scores.

Fortunately, Tim’s extraordinary athletic talents didn’t extend to either basketball or racquetball, so we had sports in which we were fairly evenly matched. That matchup extended beyond athletics. I respected his opinion, so I had someone to bounce ideas off of when writing a paper or just plain bullshitting—something I do a lot.

We had doubled dated for a while. Neither one of us had any trouble getting women interested in us--just the opposite. Unfortunately, I wasn’t very good at the sex part. Hell, I was plain awful! I had only managing to cum inside a woman twice in my entire life. I started drifting out of the dating scene to avoid the embarrassment. When Tim asked me why, I confessed my problem. Instead of laughing at me or pitying me, he dismissed it. Said that I probably just jerked off too much. Nevertheless, he cut back on his own dating, so I would have someone to pal around with on weekends. He said we were buds, and he’d filled more than his fair share of cumbags already. He figured that it wouldn’t hurt him to ease off. Maybe we’d eventually figure out what was causing my problem. Of course, I already knew the answer, but I wasn’t about to tell him.

I stared at the long body sprawled face down across the room. He couldn’t see me, so I indulged myself. Usually, I had to be satisfied with surreptitious glances when he was always changing or showering. I found my foreshortened view quite breathtaking. The head had a tousled thatch of light brown hair that would spill over the collar of a dress shirt, if in fact he ever wore one. Below that, the body was virtually hairless on the side facing me, and I knew that, apart from the crotch and armpits, only a light fuzz on the chest decorated the other side. There was virtually no fat on the six-two frame whatsoever. The arms and the back were well muscled. From the broad shoulders to the 31" waist, the torso was a dramatic trapezoid. The hips flared only a little and blended into long, exquisitely muscled legs.

What stood out most, however, was the spectacular ass. People talk a lot about bubble butts. Those gorgeous rounded firm orbs that result from good genes and a lot of gym work. I love them too. But this ass was more like twin mountains. Their peaks rode high, slightly nearer the small of the back than the legs. The outer flanks were concave. Two broad ridges rode down to meet the thighs. I knew that the vaguely triangular impression was reinforced from other angles as well. Framed today by the elastic of the jock, the ass looked particularly spectacular. You don’t see ass like that very often. I did though--every day, if only for a few seconds. I practically lived for those moments. I inhaled deeply and said, "If you’re that sore, why didn’t you go to the trainer? Isn’t he supposed to be really good?"

"Mike is very good, but he’s traveling with the football team. So is the assistant trainer. Those of us in ‘minor sports’ are pretty low on the totem pole during football season."

"I don’t know if I can do anything to help, but do you want me to give it a shot?" Where the hell did that come from?

"I guess you can try," he said hesitantly. "I’m really starting to cramp up now." He turned his head toward me as he spoke, but I couldn’t really read his expression. I put my book down and walked awkwardly over to his bed. I was pretty hard by now, but his head was turned away and he didn’t notice.

"Scoot over," I ordered. "I’m going to have to sit down. This bed is too low for me to do any good standing up." He wriggled aside to make room.

"Should I start at your shoulders?" I asked.

"Sore as I am, it’s as good a place as any," he answered. "You should use some Ben Gay. There’s a new bottle on my dresser."

I got the ointment and slathered it on the palms of my hands. The sharp smell filled the room. I dug my fingers rhythmically into his shoulders. "Tell me what I’m supposed to be doing. I need to know what works."

"That’s good, but dig harder," he instructed. "You’re supposed to be able to find the tight, knotted spots and work them out.

Son of a bitch, if I couldn’t sense them. He was tight here, and here, and over there. I worked the spots hard with my fingers.

"That’s it, dude!" Tim announced. "You’ve got it! If you don’t get into med school, Doug, you’ve got another career to fall back on."

I beamed like a kindergartener getting a gold star. I continued working on his arms and back, until I reached the top of his jock strap. I moved down to his calves and worked my way back up. I spent a lot of time on the back of his thighs. When I reach the bottom elastic bands, I stopped.

"We’d better pull that off, or you’ll wind up with Ben Gay all over it. You don’t really want to put on a jock filled with Ben Gay tomorrow." I started tugging the waistband down over his glutes. The front however snagged.

"Hang on, man," he said. "There’s something in the way." Tim reached in front of himself and in a complicated move pulled the jock down past his groin.

"You didn’t pull a boner on me, did you, buddy?" I wriggled the jock down to his ankles and unhooked the elastic. I hoped he wouldn’t turn around and see the woody I was sprouting.

"Eat shit," he burst out. "If you were more of jock, you’d know it happens to everybody on the trainer’s table from time to time."

"Well, I’m flattered anyway," I joked, finally getting the fabric completely off. I brought it to my nose, as I had often done with his underwear. There were brown stains at the bottom of cup. The smell was a rich brew of excrescences. It was great. I brought it up to his own nose. "How long since you washed this thing?"

"Three weeks? A month? I don’t know. It stays in my locker unless I come back without showering." I shoved it into his face. "All right. Get it away! You made your point. I’ll wash it tonight."

"Don’t do me any favors," I said, tossing the garment casually back toward my side of the room. After we were done, I would make sure it became "lost".

I was faced now with my fantasy come alive. I put my hands on his left cheek and a shudder ran straight through me. I grabbed and kneaded the muscles as Tim let out a long noisy breath. He was right. Rock hard as that butt was, I could still feel a ton of knots deep in the ass muscles. I dug in and worked them out one at a time. Tim squirmed as I pushed and pulled. We stopped the banter. This had become awfully intimate, and neither of us was willing to acknowledge what was going on. I worked carefully and methodically going back and forth between the two cheeks. My fingers dove into the cleft of the ass to get a good purchase. As I worked my way toward his thighs, they occasionally brushed his hole causing him to emit little gasps.

Finally, Tim said, "I think we’re done there. Thanks, guy."

"All right," I replied. "Turn over."

"Look," he said, "you’ve done more than your duty here. I’m good now."

"Bullshit!" I said. "I know your front is as knotted as you back. You’re just afraid to show me your woody. Look, if this really happens on the trainer’s table, you’ve done it before. Remember, I’m a doctor—to be, anyway. When someone pops a boner getting shaved for hernia surgery, they just nick him with the razor. Poof. It’s gone. What trick does that trainer have?"

"You don’t want to know," he replied.

"Probably jerks you all off," I countered. Tim was pointedly silent.

With a little coaxing, I got him to roll over. I had seen it before of course. Sometimes even half hard, like when he got out of the shower after jerking off. But this was the first time I had ever seen it in full bloom. It was thick, between 7 and 7 1/2 inches long, with a great, well-formed head poking far past the sheath that encircled the bottom part of the shaft.

"I thought it would be longer," I deadpanned.

Tim hit me with a pillow. Then he noticed the major tent in my own shorts. He smiled and said nothing. I started with his thighs, easing my way upward. With his tool in my face, it was getting harder and harder to focus on working out the knots. As I got near the groin, the outer part of my fingers rubbed against his sack. Both the sack and the member twitched as I worked. I moved to his chest, working it hard. I was as rough with his nipples as I could get away with.

"Stop it, Doug," he pleaded, "or we’re going to have a serious accident here."

I took his raging tool in my left hand and his sack in my right. "No accident, Tim. On purpose. Definitely, on purpose." The head of his cock was about three inches past my fist. I bent down and took it into my mouth. I think he would have cum right then, but I had his shaft tight in my hand, with the thumb squeezing down hard on the vein. With my other hand I squeezed his balls. Tim arched his back and moaned loudly. I hoped I was doing it right. I had certainly spent enough time reading gay porn.

He reached out and grabbed my ass. "Jeez, Doug. I've wanted those pouty lips of yours on my cock since I noticed them in the first day of English class." He pulled my own shorts down and fondled my ass as I worked his cock with my tongue. I released his nuts and let my fingers wander down to his asshole. He flinched as forced my middle finger into his hole. The only lube was the Ben Gay left on my hands. He stuffed the corner of his other pillow into his mouth and fought back the tears. I worked more and more of his cock into my mouth, sliding my encircling hand further down the shaft until only my forefinger and thumb held back Tim’s load.

The big head pushed against the back of my throat. I straightened out my gullet like I had read on the Internet and pushed forward. The back of my throat opened and the head pushed through. Vomit welled up to meet it. I immediately panicked and pulled off, choking violently. I managed to keep the puke in check.

"You okay, Doug?" Tim asked. "You don’t have to do that."

"Let me try again," I gasped. This time I knew what to expect and managed it much better. I went up and down the shaft, letting the head pop back into my mouth occasionally to work the slit with my tongue. Tim had not showered since his practice ended and his crotch smelled rich and musky. I continued to work his prostate with my finger. He writhed in response. When I felt he could hold it back no longer, I let the pressure of my thumb slacken slightly. A needle-like spurt of juice hit the back of my throat. Tim was sitting now. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back and forth on his cock, thrusting his hips at the same time.

"Suck me, buddy. Suck me dry," he was nearly shouting. The cum burst out as a torrent now, wave after wave. It tasted different from mine. Not better, but sharper. It was very thick. Eventually the pulses became weaker. It was not possible to keep both the cock and the large load in my mouth simultaneously. The gism leaked liberally from the corners of my mouth.

When he was done, Tim sighed and plopped back on the bed. He looked at me struggling with my mouthful of cum and said, "Swallow it, Doug. Swallow my spunk."

Unable to speak, I raised my index finger in the air as a wait sign. I reached into my mouth, pulled out a gooey glob and put it to his lips. Without hesitating, he stuck out his tongue and licked my fingers clean. I bent over then and kissed him. I shoved my cum-laden tongue into his mouth. He pulled me down on top of him and we exchanged that load for a couple of minutes before swallowing.

For me, this was the hottest thing yet. There could be no "that got out of hand/we were just way to horny" shit now. We had long wanted each other and now we both admitted it.

My shorts were down over my ass but were still hung up on my cock. Tim pulled them all the way off and then did the same with my jock. He put the jock to his nose.

"And how long since you washed this," he mimicked.

"I put it on fresh this afternoon."

"Figures." He threw it across the room. He took my ass in his hands and brought his face to my crotch. "My turn to do you, now," he announced. My cock is actually a tad longer than his, but not as thick. (It is cut and I think very pretty. Tim is a foreskin freak and says that I ought to sue my parents for child mutilation.) He took my tool hungrily in his mouth. After a few minutes of tongue massage, he tried to take it down his throat, but failed completely.

"Let me have another go," he begged. He failed again.

"It doesn’t matter, Tim," I consoled. "I don’t want you to do me anyway. I want to you again.

"I don’t know about that," he replied. "I dumped an awfully big load down your throat. I’m kinda drained."

"It doesn’t matter," I countered. "Roll over."

As I said, he wasn’t stupid. He got it right away. "Hey dude, I’ve never done that before."

"Well it’s all new to me."

"No shit?" He was incredulous. "That was your first blow job?"

"First cock in my mouth, anyway." A couple of girls had tried to suck me off. "I was good, wasn’t I?"

"Oh, yeah! You’ve got a knack." He considered for a few seconds. "Alright. Go for it, but go slow. I might bail. You got any lube?"

I was not prepared for this at all. "Some wet soap, I guess. But, what about a rubber? You got one?"

"I know we’re supposed to use one," he said. "But if we do this, I want to feel you inside me. I’m sure you’re safe. If you’re comfortable with me, let’s go bareback. But I want to do it face to face. Okay?"

"Deal!" I agreed. "But roll over first. I’ve got some other business back there."

Tim complied, and I shoved my face into that perfect ass of his. He was a pretty clean guy, but, unshowered since gymnastics practice, it was quite a nose full. It was also obvious that he had taken a shit since he showered that morning. I took along lick along the entire crack. As Tim squirmed, I spread the funky taste around in my mouth. I discovered I loved it. I spread the mounds and found the brown roseate buried within. The single sweep of my tongue had not cleaned it completely. I flicked my long, narrow tongue around the outside of the bud.

Tim gasped and clenched his cheeks reflexively. I pulled them apart and plunged full face into the pit. Tim repulsed my first three attempts to intrude, then relaxed and let me force my tongue within. As I worked him clean, those cheeks clenched my face with a vengeance. I was prepared to stay there for the duration. It was everything I had ever imagined and more. I could have had an orgasm without ever touching myself, but I had committed myself to something else.

I grabbed a well used bar of soap from Tim’s dresser. I took it to the sink and got it sopping wet. I rolled the compliant jock over and put his legs over my shoulders. His own fat cock was hard again. I worked the corner of the wet bar into his asshole. At the same time, I used my soapy hand to slick up my cock. I re-soaped my right hand and began working my middle finger into the opening.

"Will that stuff sting?" he asked.

"Not you." I pushed my finger gently in working it around. "They use soap solutions as enemas all the time. I expect it’ll sting me pretty badly when it gets into my pisshole. I hope you’re worth it."

"You decided that," Tim said. "This has been your show from the start."

"Like you weren’t wiggling your ass at me when you came in. ‘Oh, Douggy, my ass is so sore!"

He smiled. Then looked worriedly at my very extended rod. "Are you planning to put it all in? It’s starting to look pretty big to me. I’m thinking maybe I shouldn’t have called you Pencil Dick."

"I’ll be using it all. That is, if you let me. You should be thankful I’m not as thick in the shaft as you. Once the head is in, we’re golden." I began working a second finger into the channel. Tim clamped down, arched his back and let out a long "Ooohhh".

"Fuck me now, Doug," he pleaded. "Before I back out."

I put the head against the barrier and pushed firmly. "Make like you’re trying to shit." The orifice opened slightly and I took the opportunity to push it out further than it wanted to go. Tim cried out, but the head plopped in. My piss hole opened up, of course, and now it burned with the soap. I had the best of intentions to work slowly in and out to get him used to me. But I had him impaled now. What a rush! I owned him completely. I wanted my cock in this jock now--all the way. I shoved hard and my hips met his glutes with a loud smack.

"Oh fuck!" he cried. "You’re ripping me up! Stop!"

But I didn’t. I pulled out and slammed back in--again and again. He started to cry. I stopped on an inward thrust. Rolled his supple legs back against his chest and licked his tears. He tried to turn his head away but managed to kiss him passionately. He kissed back.

"The hard part’s over now, Lover," I declared. "Your cherry is fairly and completely busted. Lie back and try to enjoy the rest of the ride."

Now I took long slow strokes. After about a minute, he started working his own cock with his hand. I upped the pace, and so did he. Eventually, I was pounding him again with all my might. I thought he was going to tear his tool from its anchor in response. Not crying anymore, Tim babbled.

"Fuck me, man. Fuck me hard! As hard as you can! I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum. I want you to cum, too. Cum, Doug. Please cum now!"

Now any experienced guy knows that timing you cum perfectly is easier said than done. But what the hell did we know? I felt the outward rush of his cum though his prostate. The sense of this big jock--my jock now--cumming with me inside him hit me hard. I let loose myself in wave after shuddering wave, filling the tunnel to capacity and beyond. A milky wet ooze leaked out as I continued to pork my roomie long after I stopped spurting. Finally, he grabbed my ass and pulled me tight to him.

"I think we’re done," he announced. "You know, Doug. I figured you to be a more gentle lover. I’m glad you’re not. Frankly, I expected that I’d be the one fucking you, but this was better than anything I’d imagined."

"Day’s young yet."

"No," he insisted. "Let’s keep things as they are for now."

I reached down between us and came up with the Tim-gism smearing our bellies. We both licked it from my fingers. Then he reached down further and pulled up the stuff oozing from his ass around my tool.

As we licked it up, he asked, "Is this mostly you?"

"Tastes mostly like me," I answered. Then I pulled out and straddled his chest with my messy brown-stained cock looming in his face. "But this is definitely a mix of both of us."

He took a long lick, and announced, "Nice combination. Goes together well." He then took the dick into his mouth and proceeded to give me a long blow job. No deep throating, but very hot. He had to work hard. It took about 15 minutes to get me to come again. Later we moved to my bed to nap. His was now a disaster area.

As I ran my hands lightly over his body, Tim, drifting off, said, "We’ve got another problem."

"What’s that, buddy?"

"My ass still hurts."

End

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