Gay Erotic Stories

The general manager of the store brought him around the computer department and made the necessary introductions. I’d been having some staffing issues, and when the summer crop of high school and college whiz kids dried up with the beginning of fall classes, I’d been in heap of hurt, schedule wise.

Ross, the GM, was an ex-football player who’d gotten outta shape after he’d married and his wife had their first set of twins--boys. Yeah, I said first set. She was pregnant again…with another set of duplicates. Apparently this second effort was more of an accident…as good ol’ Ross attended Saturday morning clinic…and got his lil’ poker snipped! I just couldn’t think it was a good thing to have a potential of 4 little Ross clones inflicted on any one community.

Ross was an over zealous store team leader—to the point of it being sickeningly pathetic. He rode all us “team members” in our early morning meetings. If we hadn’t memorized our sales figures, our percentage of service plans we’d sold, etc. we were publicly castigated in front of the group. The big bloke just couldn’t comprehend why ALL of the team members weren’t as enthusiastic and gun-ho as he was. It never dawned on him that a part-timer or full-timer being paid a mediocre wage with no chance of commission just couldn’t maintain his level of fanaticism! God—was he dense!

His other three assistant managers…we’ll just call ‘em the “suck-ups” collectively shared one feeble mind. When Ross told ‘em to shit…they’d just ask “how much” and “where”. The whole damn place was run more like the Borg Collective!

Anyway, you can now see that I was really pleased—maybe even excited to see the big balding brute coming into my department with a new employee in tow. I was just finishing up an advance order for a customer at the counter when they approached. I really couldn’t get a good look at the neophyte until old “Q ball” stepped to one side.

The first glance was a double take! I hurriedly dispatched the customer, and shot Ross, and then boy gorgeous a second sizing up. Ross lost no time in making the introductions. “Charlie, this is Alexssandor” he’s going to be joining your department part time and he can start today.”

Since there were just two of us in the department during the weekdays, I was glad just to have a body present. Ross went on to say that Alexssandor’s full time job was also in the computer industry, so he’d be sure to fit right in quickly. Good news. It’s amazing I even heard the dribble coming out of Ross’s lips. I was deep in thought.

This was going to be sweet! Alexssandor was such a fine specimen and had such a captivating smile…shit…he could sell ice to an Eskimo! I knew my department numbers were going to improve dramatically. And with any luck…so would my department’s appearance!

Wednesdays weren’t very busy during the day, so I had ample time to show Alexssandor the ropes, acquainting him with our department and a quick run down of our sales procedures. He was a quick study and before mid-afternoon he’d made two sales of full computer systems to two separate customers…both women…both with service contracts! I’d watched him, and how he manhandled these young women. If I didn’t know better, it looked more like a dating introduction service. He probably could have sold ‘em a portable vacuum cleaner to blow the dust off the boxes! The babes probably both left with a wet spot.

I congratulated Alexssandor on his sales. He began talking about both women, especially the cute brunette. He’d already scored with her phone number and was planning on calling her later tonight. This guy wastes no time! Of course, his body spoke just as convincingly as his lips. At somewhere around 6’2” and solid muscle, broad shoulders and a radical V-shaped torso that ended in a 28-29” waist, he was a sight. His skin was a rich dark olive…not too dark…but the kind of color a sun lizard gets baking at the beach day in and day out.

This slight accent also didn’t hurt his style any either…as he expertly wove his web of charm. That smile, those pearly white teeth. He was an expert at handling people. Hopefully this extended to the male species too. He was definitely going to make my life a pleasure—at least at work! But the way he went after the fish…he must have been straight and just oversexed!

During the rest of the week, I’d been able to talk with Alexssandor at length. He was originally from South America. Bolivia—LaPaz. He was a gym rat…a fanatic with regard to his body. He worked out most every night, or early in the morning before work. I’d heard about all his female sexual conquests…he was very open and descriptive…sex was more of a sport and a pastime—no emotional attachment. Even though he apparently treated his “ladies” as he liked to call them, “like gold,” if the truth were known, they were more like toxic waste receptacles—giving new validation to the term “sperm bank”.

In the weeks that followed, on average, he was plowing fresh faces on the average of two a week…sometimes both at the same time. Between the two jobs, and the two timing, he sometimes would come in a bit tired and obviously wearing clothes from the day before. Alexssandor was a machine!

Now I’d be remise if I didn’t admit that my eyes were transfixed on his crotch. Even with his fondness for baggy type kakis, his equipment filled out the fronts nicely…boldly proclaiming a major weapon of pleasure. When he’d chat up about his nightly conquests, the bulge in his pants would grow nicely. It was a major distraction, and I struggled to retain the objectivity of management. If I wasn’t going to benefit on a personal performance level, my department’s performance sure would!

We were able to augment our department’s staff by two more part timers, young guys who worked a couple of nights during the week and on the weekends during the day or evening. They were both good looking and one was definitely—obviously—and openly gay. Kevin was a walking poster child for being queer. He was smart, articulate, but didn’t have a butch bone (except the middle leg nature had given him) in his entire body. His speech was affected and his word usage gave him away to anyone after the first 30 seconds. Mind you, Kevin was cute, and he had a sixth-sense when it came to ferreting out other gay guys. He kept me on edge constantly…and my smokescreen was saving my ass—at least so far.

After a couple of weekends I noticed that Kevin and Alexssandor had actually become rather friendly, taking breaks together, etc. This one Saturday morning, they’d become down right chatty! On Sunday, Alexssandor, in his usual candor just came out and declared that he didn’t have a problem with Kevin being gay, or which way he swung. He gave a wicked little smirk when he said this, more like “well…at least the little bastard would be in my way with the ladies.”

True to form, good ol’ Ross and his three stooges managed to screw up a good thing. It was increasingly apparent that Alexssandor’s burning the candle at both ends was catching up to him. His pleasant demeanor was still there for the customers, but his dissatisfaction with store management (excluding yours truly), became more apparent. Furthermore, this was expressed in our Computer Department meetings. Of course I had to peddle the corporate line of stink, but it was a diplomatic soft sell. Secretly I found myself agreeing, and cursing “Q ball” under my breath.

On one Saturday morning store meeting, “Q ball” picked on Alexssandor. It was obvious he’d had one hell of an active Friday night, and “fresh” only pertained to the probably cum spots in his underwear. Alexssandor didn’t know our department numbers, and “Q ball” make a storewide example out of him.

Actually, the tables got turned around on ol’ “Q ball”. After enduring a badgering from Ross for a good 3-4 minutes, Alexssandor just straight out told him to go fuck himself, shot him the finger, and then said, “Kiss my sorry ass!” and then stormed out of the meeting. There was a slight snicker that ran throughout the assembled group—nearly 100 of us. The three “suck-ups” apparently were entertained, as two of them uttered nervous coughs. Ol’ “Q ball’d been had—he knew it and he was red-faced. Stopped in his tracks. I’d never heard a store full of people so quiet.

I thought Alexssandor’s choice of words was especially appropriate—he had one sweet ass! That radical V-shape looked even better from the backside. Now he didn’t really have a bubble butt—but it sure as hell wasn’t flat! He’d always cut a swath with the girls in the store too, but as far as I knew, he hadn’t shit on his doorstep.

Well, I didn’t have to work that Saturday, just had to attend that damn 7 AM monthly meeting, I wasn’t on the schedule, and I made sure I hauled ass as soon as the meeting ended. I signed out and promptly plowed through the front doors, making a beeline to my car in the lot.

Alexssandor was standing by my car. The meeting had dragged on for nearly two hours following his theatrical departure, and I was to say the least—amazed to see him there. He began by apologizing to me, he didn’t want to screw up the department, but he just couldn’t take the big lunk-head any longer. His voice was quivering and he was close to tears.

I’d never seen him like this. I invited him to join me in the car and we’d take a drive—just in case ol’ “Q ball” or one of the “suck-ups” came wandering out the store, or didn’t have to work that day.

We went to a bagel shop to grab a coffee. It was over breakfast that Alexssandor told me of his disaster the night before. It’d been one hell of a night all right! It seems he’d gotten his wires crossed and while juggling three broads at once, he’d misspoken and called on the wrong girl’s name in the head of the moment. She threw him out and he lived too far away to go home and change and still make the early compulsory meeting.

I tried to be sympathetic, at least to some point, but I told him he was playing with fire and when that happens—one can get burned. He chuckled (he’d never heard of this trite expression?), and had to agree, I was probably right. He went on to say that he was getting really tired of these girls’ attitudes and demands. Apparently he had one hell of a gift—he wasn’t all just wind!

He thanked me for breakfast and headed for home. So did I, but not before making sure that Alexssandor and I wouldn’t loose touch. He made me promise. Who was I to disagree!

The weeks passed, and we exchanged emails mostly, as our schedules didn’t allow for too many calls—just phone tag. Alexssandor moved closer to his main job and gave me the new address and phone number. Once in returning his call, I got another male voice on the line…his roommate. No—it wasn’t Kevin, but the voice clearly didn’t sound like Mr. Macho either. Alexssandor called me back later that evening and in his typical style just came out with it…yeah his roommate…Daniel…was gay, but they were just friends and he made a good roommate to share expenses with. Fair enough.

Alexssandor then asked me if I had any days off, that his parent’s cabin on the lake was available. They’d rented it out for the season, but now the people were gone and it’d be a shame if he didn’t use it…being the weather was still nice. Besides, they had a boat docked there too…and we’d be able to use it.

Well this sounded good to me…whether he’s straight or not…it’d be fun…something I’d seen precious little of for just too long. “Yeah, sure. Sounds great! What can I bring?” I asked.

“Probably nothing more that what ever you’d like to drink…beer…wine…whatever. My parents were there last weekend and the place is probably pretty much stocked. How about you meeting me early Saturday morning and we’ll get there before noon?” Alexssandor’s voice was upbeat.

“You’re on! See ya bright n’ early Saturday!”

Work went well the rest of the week. Ol’ “Q ball” and his stooges “Hear no evil”, “Speak no evil” and “See no evil,” were in rare form and—caused no evil! Ever since that fateful morning meeting…management mellowed out and tried to redefine—if not outright reinvent—the concept of being a team. It was almost sickening. Apparently the incident had reached the new Divisional Manager and ol’ “Q ball” had gotten his ass chewed out.

Saturday, just a shade before 7 AM, I found the apartment address and was buzzed in. I took the elevator to the 17th floor and found the apartment. Alexssandor was still finishing up in the bathroom, so he sent Daniel to let me in. I introduced myself, but Daniel was in pretty much of a state…he’d been out until just a couple of hours ago, and had been caught in the middle of an early morning—or more likely an ultra late night conquest. He smelled of smoke and sex. Never did see his trick, but Daniel was handsome and I figured so was his “boyfriend.”

Alexssandor bounded out of the bathroom with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder—showing off one mean-sized bicep--just what I needed to see first thing in the morning. On the way past Daniel’s bedroom door he yelled, “Butch, see ya later…” then walked towards Daniel—who was standing their in “neutral” and gave him a pat on the butt, then just said, “Okay, we’re outta here!”

I was still trying to digest what’d just happened. Alexssandor knew Daniel’s boyfriend, trick or whatever…and the name…Butch…oh be serious! Once in the elevator, Alexssandor kind of chuckled…after reading the look on my face. “Yeah, Butch! His whole name is Bucherdt, it’s German or something.” He made no more of it, but I had other thoughts. I was pleased that Alexssandor didn’t make anything of it, and really was okay with Daniel and his “friend”.

On the trip out, we talked at length. Alexssandor didn’t talk about any of his wild dating escapades and I thought it strange, but not wanting to hear the blow-by-blow, or pussy plowing conquests, I just let it slide. What he did tell me was that over the years since moving to the States, he’d met quite a few friends…and many of them were gay. He had no problem with it, and they were all just good friends. He shot me a strange inquisitive look, sort of like he was looking for my approval—validation—or just maybe my reaction.

At this point I really didn’t care if he did find out…secretly…I’d rather he knew. It surely wouldn’t bother him—it’s more likely to bother me…that handsome hunk of a Latin—built and strong—and straight. Shit. Well, at least we’d have fun this weekend. I really enjoyed his company, and he apparently mine. Sometimes you just can’t have it all. I led him away from the conversation and got him to talking about his main computer company job. This sufficed to fill the time until we got to the cabin.

Cabin? Not hardly! This was a truly gorgeous beach house—quite the vacation hideaway—4 bedrooms and 3 baths, not to mention a full kitchen, dining room and an entertainment room—complete with big screen TV and a pool table. Apparently Alexssandor’s parents were well provided for. Then I got a look at the “fishing boat”, docked out back just beyond the swimming pool and deck. I’m no nautical genius, but it was sort of a cross between a cabin cruiser and a sport fish…and was well over 40 feet in length. Funny, I’d never really given Alexssandor’s background or the money issue any thought. I guess I’d just assumed he was just on his own, and had to work two jobs to make ends meet.

“You have this sized boat here on the lake?” I asked. Then I learned that the “lake” had no fixed bridges and provided open access to the Intra Coastal waterway and the open Atlantic if you wanted. Okay, that now made sense.

“We can take her out now if you want. Dad had her gassed up last weekend. She’s probably full.” He volunteered. He must have noticed the surprised look on my face and had been monitoring my reaction to the place. “Yeah, my dad’s connected with my country’s government. That’s why we moved here.”

He didn’t elaborate, and I wasn’t going to go any further that he wanted to, or could divulge. I gotta admit—this was all one hell of a surprise. We unpacked and rummaged around in the refrigerator for lunch material. I hauled out the 2 case of beer I’d brought from the cooler, and the wine. It was no problem finding room in the fridge—what a monster.

We finished lunch, and then Alexssandor readied the boat. After pulling the plug, disconnecting the boat from dock power, he thought to check the galley. The refrigerator was already stocked with an assortment of beer and individual canned cocktails, so he pronounced us ready to go. He sat at the controls, put in the key to turn her over. She grumbled and coughed, caught life, then sputtered and died. Remaining attempts were futile. Either she was flooded or whatever…the point being—we were going nowhere.

Alexssandor apologized, when in the house and called his father to have someone check out the boat. When he returned, he said the service guy couldn’t get there until probably about 5 PM, so we just decided to lounge around the pool. This was just fine with me. It afforded me my first glimpse of Alexssandor shirtless and nearly naked! This was going to be sweet.

I went into change, and by the time I’d come out, Alexssandor was already at the pool. He had his back to me and was already reclining on the chaise lounge he’d already covered with a huge beach towel. He’d also placed an equally large towel on the chair next to him. I just threw my “little” towel down and started to walk out. Then I stopped myself and grabbed a couple of beers first. I figured I was going to need a good swig just to calm myself while dealing with Alexssandor’s apparition.

He heard me approaching and asked, “Hey, as long as you’re up, how ‘bout bringing us a couple of beers?”

“No problem. I’ve already got ya’ cover…” I let go one of the beers…it landed on the deck with a thud. My eyes had just cleared the back of Alexssandor’s chair. The apparition was there…and stark naked! Stark isn’t the right word. Actually, I’m not sure just what the hell the right words could have been.

“H...hey, man, you don’t have to wear a suit here. Nobody’s around anywhere close.”

Good Jesus…there’s no way in hell I can lay here without something to cover up “mother’s runaway truck” It’d be a dead giveaway and besides…after looking at the size of that flaccid sausage—I’d be embarrassed either way. I offered him the can in hand, and exchanged the carbonated bomb for a fresh one in the kitchen. This also gave me precious little time to regroup.

It didn’t matter. As I bent over to straighten the killer towel…Alexssandor playfully just reached up and yanked off my boxer style Speedo’s. The damn things were now at my ankles and I fell forward onto the lounge. I kicked them off, lay down, opened the beer and hastily downed over half of it.

“Guess you were thirsty!” he taunted. Sorry about the surprise, but there’s no need here…besides…tan lines is kinda sexy.

I lay there and tried my level best to keep my cool, hoping “mother’s runaway truck” motor was as dead as the boat we were staring at. I had a contingency plan…I could always just roll the opposite direction from him—yeah I know—pretty lame idea.

The Indian summer sun was unusually warm, and the slight breeze teased the hairs on my legs as well as the sparse few centered on my chest and the few that trickled down my stomach, pointing to my bushy crotch. Alexssandor was virtually hairless with the exception of healthy armpits and a hefty bush surrounding that olive-skinned uncut monster. From time to time, he’d just absent-mindedly scratch himself, while plodding continuing a light conversation—much about nothing. I anxiously fortified our beer supply. I couldn’t help but notice, and I think he was aware of this, as he increased both the frequency of his scratching and their duration. This led to two problems.

Alexssandor’s cock began to swell and the monster’s head reared out of its darker protective sheath. It had grown from about 5-6 inches flaccid…to something around 8+ inches—but who the hell’s counting! B-Jesus—it wasn’t just the length either—the son-of-a-bitch was swelling in girth too…it was lookin’ like an amber long neck! It was makin’ me nervous and thirsty again. Quick—more beer—and don’t think about the damn bottle—that god it’s in a can!

I don’t know if it was the effect of the beer, or what, but I found myself getting bolder—looking longer. Yeah—longer was the operative word here! What I’d guessed was 8 was now pushin’ 10—that’s conservative I think. Think. Bad idea. I was aware of my own problems. I’d taken due care to make sure I didn’t brush against “George” but the sun, the breeze, and the beautiful beast on my right, were winning out.

Alexssandor’s voice broke into my paralyzed thoughts, “Hey…no problem…we’re both men here. I usually get horny this time of the afternoon…just anticipating I guess. If you don’t mind…I think I’ll take care of business. You can watch if you like…or join me stroke for stroke if you like.”

Jesus--that’s done it. I’ve popped a full-blown rod. He’s seen it…he knows it…he’s cool with it. What the hell. I’m watching Alexssandor’s hands—yeah—both of ‘em—stroking away. This guy sure has one helluva cavalier attitude! You fool—enjoy the show!

And a show it was! Within five minutes he blew a load a horse could be jealous of. He shot volley after volley. The first two hit him in the face, successive ones shoulder, mid-chest, belly, finally lesser spurts puddling just above his crotch hairs. To my amazement Alexssandor took his fingers and squeegees off some of his cum from his cheeks and licked it off his fingers and hand. He just turned, smiled, and said, “I taste good. That’s what they all tell me anyway.”

That did it…I been half-heartedly stroking along, but I’d become so engrossed in watching the show that I was unaware just how close I was. When Alexssandor’s lips and tongue licked the cum from his fingers, I blew myself. A pretty respectable load if I do say so. Now I didn’t hit myself in the face, but the first shot did go past my tits, centered perfectly on my upper chest.

“Hey, man. Not bad. How bout’ wanna see round two?”

What the h…? He was still rock hard…and he was jackin’ away again—just one hand this time. This time the cum which was lubricating his monster must have done the trick, because he came again in under three minutes. This time it didn’t reach his face, but it sure shot all over his chest. He was just covered with the sticky stuff…and against his dark olive tanned skin…it glistened.

Alexssandor started to sit up. “Get we’d better get cleaned up before the boat guy gets here.” As he got up off the lounger, he took his right hand and ran in from the top of his chest downwards through his cum…then leaned over and smeared my chest with the handful. “Guess you’d better get cleaned up now too!”

Whether it was the sun, the beers, or Alexssandor—I was seein’ stars! I was dizzy and just leanin’ forward was a struggle. Next thing I knew he was helping me up—sticky hands and all. My legs were like Jello…this just wasn’t happening.