Gay Erotic Stories

In the interest of time, we each cleaned up in separate bathrooms. The boat service man just might finish up early and arrive ahead of his estimated schedule. I was still sort of dazed by the whole thing, yet there it was in plain sight—staring at back at me in the mirror—my chest full of cum—mine and Alexssandor’s.

I stepped into the shower and flipped on the water, dialing it to a pretty hot setting so as to speedily wash up and effectively remove the stickiness from my chest and crotch. If left to my own devices, I’d probably savored it a while, inhaling the aroma of sweat and sex. Well, that would have to come later. I shampooed my hair and lathered my body up real good. The stuff came off quickly and I turned down the temperature just before rinsing off. I reached for a fresh bath sheet and dried off.

As I reached for my all purpose boxer style Speedo’s, I realized I’d left them on the pool deck. I figured I’d just retrieve them since they were still clean, so I wrapped the bath sheet around myself and headed out the patio door. I heard talking and seconds later spotted the service man already on the boat with Alexssandor. Plan B. I headed back inside and rummaged through my bag for another pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

Now dressed, I joined Alexssandor who was outside on the dock. He was shirtless and just had on a pair of standard white boxer briefs. He must have given the repairman quite a show when he’d arrived. These babies were skintight and showed off his ass and his package to their maximum potential. His dark toned skin shone through the fabric nicely—his “pinga” clearly outlined—he dressed to the right!

Alexssandor filled me in on what the guy thought was wrong with the boat. First impression was a fouled “glow plug”. I was able to look past his briefs and my gaze traveled up his still damp chest, still glowing with occasional beads of water…or whatever. My eyes traveled to his muscularly thick neck, his face with those broad-high cheekbones, and then to his coarse and perfectly straight raven black hair he’d slicked back. Then I saw it…the “or whatever”. There was still little pearly white chunks of what I was sure, was cum in his hair on the left side of his head…and his neck.

“What?” he questioned.

“You’ve still got some of that shit in your hair and on your neck.” I pointed to the area I was referring to.

He just ran his fingers through the offending area a couple of times and asked if it was gone. Then he brushed his forearm against his neck and then dropped it for inspection.

“Well, is it gone?”

“Gone? Where? No, but you’ve buried it successfully!” I chided him.

“Okay, good.” And he just shrugged off the issue. He really didn’t much care or give a shit if anyone saw it or not. Besides, against that black hair, it looked more like “Brylcreme” or some other gooey white hair gel. Who would even think…case closed!

The boat repairman isolated the problem. Apparently the plug was not the complete source of the problem, as there was also couple of corroded wires that had to be replaced. Typical mechanic speak…probably building up the repair bill…boat = black hole you throw money into. He finished the job around 8 PM and it was getting dark (good thing for daylight savings time). He invited Alexssandor to see the repairs he’d done, just in case something worked its way loose, or whatever.

Alexssandor was still just clad in his briefs when he joined him on board and they both disappeared below deck. I figured it must have required a detailed description or they were working out the bill. I decided to go back in the house and fetch a beer. I brought out two with me, intent on being hospitable. I’d finished about half of mine when they emerged from below. They both jumped off the boat and walked across the dock in my direction.

Alexssandor had definitely been below deck. His briefs were clearly soiled with grease and grime from the engine room, and he was covered in sweat, as was the mechanic. It must have been pretty hot down there I guessed. I offered them both a cold one, and each took it gladly. They both downed their beers straight away, and the mechanic got ready to leave. Alexssandor just told “Rickie” to put it on his father’s account, as usual. The mechanic shot him a glance of approval, a nod and a wink.

Rickie was a cheerful enough guy and probably not too back looking. I bet he’d clean up pretty nicely. His blue work pants and shirt were wet with sweat and his hands and forearms were darkly covered with engine grime. His forehead was streaked with the same stuff…probably from wiping his brow with his arms. Other than that, his face was clean-shaven and he had the really white teeth that sort of sparkled when he smiled. Rickie excused himself, apologized for the boat ruining our afternoon, and said he’d better get home to his old lady as he’d promised taking her out to dinner and a movie earlier in the week.

With that, Rickie thanked us for the beer and headed around the side of the house towards his truck. We heard the door slam and the clatter of the engine. The truck was a diesel too. Alexssandor advised that Rickie was one hell of a mechanic and had worked on the boat ever since they’d had it. Rickie could take care of anything!

We headed into the house and headed for the kitchen. Alexssandor flipped on the lights and headed for another beer, offering me one too. I took it and we stood there drinking. God, what a sight! If anyone harbored any fantasy of having dirty, grimy, sweaty, smelly sex…it was standing in front of me—personified! Alexssandor caught sight of me looking at him, and became aware of his grimy state.

“Better hit the showers. I’ve starving. Let me get cleaned up. What you hungry for, for dinner? You think, I’ll clean up and we’ll just go out. Too late to cook here, anyway.” With that he headed off, but I stopped him, asking him if I needed to change. “Nope, most any place around here’s casual. Shorts and T-shirt are fine. I’m puttin’ on the same thing.”

I went into the game room and flicked on the TV. I’d seen a snippet of some game show, and the obligatory 3-4 commercials sandwiched together when Alexssandor found me. Damn he showers fast! We headed for town, and after my telling him that seafood sounded good to me, he said he knew just the place. After passing through the center of town, we turned down a side street and headed for water. Three blocks later…we pulled up in front of a ramshackle building that looked more like a bait shop. The weathered and crooked moniker just said, “Sally’s”.

Understated and Spartan would probably be the two kindest words you could use to describe the place. Coarsely hone wooden tables covered in checkered oilcloth mats, wood plank floors, but the place was clean and the smells that hit you as you came through the front door made you insanely hungry after two whiffs.

We’d barely sat down and the waitress was on us. She looked at Alexssandor, “What’ll it be—Guinnsess? Two?” He looked at me, I nodded. “Two darkies comin’ right up! Cakes?” Alexssandor nodded. She headed for the kitchen, “Cakes—special, deuce!”

I could tell this place was going to be sweet! Guinness? He didn’t seem like the type. It’d been a while since I’d had a pint of the stuff…but I liked it well enough…just never thought of it very often. It wasn’t but literally two minutes and she was back, “There you go. What’ll it be, sugars? Cakes are comin’ right up. We got some fine lobsters left. Yellowtail’s real fresh too.”

I didn’t need to hear more. By now I was starving and could have chomped down on just about anything. “Lobster sounds perfect.” Alexssandor just nodded. She “ticked off” okay, and was gone in a flash. She yelled something to the cook, but I couldn’t make it out, as the table next door scrapped their chairs back on the floor, preparing to leave.

The crab cakes were a sight for the deprived. Usually silver dollar sized stingy portions; these beauties were the size of respectable pancakes! The accompanying dipping sauces were a dream. The lobsters were equally a sight to behold—huge granddaddy’s—two each! Hungry as I was, I barely finished. We each downed another bottle of Guinness, but passed on dessert. I tried to pay for dinner, but Alexssandor prevailed. I relented, only after he promised I’d treat the following night.

We drove back to the house, and settled in for the night. I was really feeling the effects of the Guinness and a full stomach. We were both showing the effects too…lobsters are dangerous things to eat…butter stains everywhere. We both commented on this, and then Alexssandor stood up and peeled off his shirt. “Problem solved. Wanna shoot some pool?”

I told him; he’d probably laugh at me, as I was the world’s worst pool player. He smiled and just said, “No problem, I’ll teach you some shots as we go.” Considering the typically lousy programming on TV on a Saturday night, I agreed. He racked ‘em up and we started in.

He broke and two stripped buggers found their pockets. It was downhill from there. I’d managed to get just one damn solid in, and he just had one ball left before the eight ball. I was hopelessly planning my next shot when he came up behind me. “Loose the shirt, you’ll shoot better. Let me line this up for you.” He started to pull up the tails of my T-shirt, but I finished the job. He then proceeded to show me how to line up the angles using the stick, got me set and reached in behind me.

The bare skin of his chest pressed against my back…it was electric! If I was concentrating on balls—it sure as hell wasn’t the ones my quivering stick was aiming at! He held me in position and I shot! It went in—the pocket you fool—the pocket! I don’t recall just how many more successful shots he helped me make, but he won the game. It guess it’s not whether you win or loose—but it sure as hell’s important how you play the game! I declined a second game…don’t think I could’ve stood it.

Alexssandor graciously relented, “Yeah, you’re probably right. We’d better hit the sack. We’ll take ‘er out at dawn. Show ya, the neighborhood!”

Now I knew he’s referring to the boat. My mind was on hittin’ the sack. To my immediate relief…and later confused disappointment, we just headed off in the direction of the bedrooms, Alexssandor took his, and just said, “You’ve used the bath anyway, it’s yours.”

I turned down the covers, shucked my shorts and crawled into bed—as I always do—naked. I was lying there just recounting what had been a truly amazing day. God, I could just have two weeks vacation! I began to drift… I heard muffled noise coming from Alexssandor’s bedroom, but just passed it off as the TV. But there was no TV in my room, and I didn’t recall seeing one in his either during my initial tour. The sun, the beer, the Guinness and the food…it was all too much…I drifted away to oblivion.

The night passed with lightening speed. And that’s how I awoke too…like a bolt of the stuff passing through my body…an involuntary muscle spasm. As I collected my thoughts for a second, coming back to the reality of where I was…I felt a rush of cool air. Then something nipped at my crotch. I must have still had lobster on the brain…I bolted forward and sprung up trying to focus my eyes against the sunlight. I took my free hand and brushed whatever it was away from my privates. It didn’t move, but instead applied more pressure. What the h…?

“Rise n’ shine sailor! Or in your case—just shine!” Alexssandor just laughed while his left hand gave me another pump and a tug. He was leaning over my bed—laughing—and stark naked. “Get your shit together, we’re outta’ here in 5 minutes! Full day ‘s ahead!” He let go, turned around and left.

Now I’m an earlier riser—guess I made my point already—and am up and rarin’ to go—you bet I was—but this morning I’d of considered breakfast in bed. I normally don’t even eat breakfast…but in this case I’d sure make one hell of an exception. I got up and navigated my way to the shower. I needed a cold one…