Gay Erotic Stories

Of course, Curtis and I slept in Saturday morning, waking up just before noon. A clearer head prevailed now, and I found myself want to know just how Curtis had met up with Ralph. One way to find out…ask. I was in a confrontational mood and was just about to pop out the question when Curtis interrupted my train of thought.

Curtis simply chucked his morning hardon against my stomach and began thrusting against my hard-pressed equipment. The friction against our “happy trails” and the crotch hairs were very much an issue after last night’s activities—both our dicks were overly sensitive—not raw—but sure as hell overly sensitive. Curtis felt me back away and asked, “Your dick’s kind of sore too, huh?”

“After last night, I’m not so sure it’s still fully attached!” I quipped.

“I can fix that. How about we get crazy with some lube?” That having been said, he reached under his bed and rolled out what can only be called the Giant Economy Sized Bottle of I.D. Lube.

“Jesus, I didn’t know they made the stuff in that big a bottle! What the hell do you do—bathe with it?”

“Sometimes.” Curtis had a shit-eatin’ grin on his face. “Actually, it’s sort of left over from college. I went through the two of these in just a few months, and then bought this one just before I flunked out.”

Note to self. “File that statement for future reference! This guy’s gotta be some kind of pro! Flunked out? Truth be known—he probably fucked out!”

I was amusing myself with the cleverness of the pun when I felt the cold lube splash on my dick. I jumped. Curtis was more than generous—I guess with a bottle that size—he could afford to be! He gave it a good four or 5 squirts—my dick and everything below my navel was covered in lube.

“That enough—or you want more?” He saw the surprised look on my face and then continued, “Don’t worry—if we run out—I’ve got another one yet! The stuff was cheap at school. Like I said, since we’re kind of tender down there, a little lube will help—and a lotta stuff will help a lot!” Curtis then sat back and squirted several healthy shots on himself, not being too careful. Some of the stuff missed its target and shot on the bed.

“Hey, your bed’s going to be a mess—better take it easy with that.” I warned.

“You’re right. The bed’s going to be a mess anyway by the time we’re through messin’ around. Besides the shit’s water based anyway. There’s also a liner underneath the mattress pad—just in case.”

“Just in case what?” I thought to myself. Maybe Curtis was into some kinky shit! If he was, I sure hope he’d respect my limits.

Next thing I know, Curtis was straddling my body, and then just lowered himself against mine. The lube squished and bubbled between our lower stomachs and our rigid cocks. He began humping my stomach, driving our cocks together, sliding around. God it felt great—both of us were throbbing after just a few strokes. I told him to cool it, or I’d shoot my load already. Curtis backed off and sat up on his haunches, then spun around so his ass was in my face, and his head was staring at my crotch.

“How about a few shots of lube and some ass play?” Curtis pushed the container to me. I gave it a couple of squirts to his crack, and was about to set it down. “No, no. Be generous—give me some LUBE man.” Okay, if it’s lube he wants—so be it. I pumped out another 5 or 6 shots. The shit was running off his crack and butt cheeks and onto my upper chest.

“That enough?” I teased.

“Yeah man, hand me the bottle will ya?” I rolled the bottle in Curtis’ direction. He lifted my rear end up a bit, and then began administering generous shots of lube aimed at my crack. I felt it roll off my butt cheeks and onto the sheets. Yep, the bed was sure going to be a mess. “Okay, finger my ass already will ya?”

Curtis’ hands were already busy with my crack, so I just followed his lead and gave him what he wanted. One finger, the my thumb, then two fingers, then three. Curtis was bucking and was truly into this. He was busy doing the same to my ass—which felt wildly good too. He lowered himself onto my chest and more of the slick lube spread around between us…we were now pretty much covered from neck to dick in the stuff. It felt great. Curtis was squirming around, and the combination of my dick sliding around on his chest and his fingers in my ass nearly sent me over the edge in the first minute. I told him I was close to cumming, he said he was too and to just blast off.

At this point, I’d already passed the point of now return and seconds later I was blasting my load against Curtis’ chest and my stomach. The feeling of the warmth spreading between us was ecstatic. A few more seconds and I felt Curtis’ cock erupt, spreading the warmth of his man juice over my chest. We were bathed in cum soaked lube and were a sticky slithering mess—kind of like pigs in slop—it felt wonderful. Suddenly Curtis arched his back a bit and had his mouth around my dick and was greedily sucking down the mixture. Normally, I wouldn’t have considered doing this, but it felt so damn good, I just got caught up in the moment and the next thing I knew, I had his dick buried all the way down my throat. I gave him a few sucks, but pulled myself away—my cock was just too sensitive—too much of a good thing now.

Curtis pulled off me and was laughing. “Tip of the morning to ya’ sport!” He turned around and laid on top of me, locking us in a mouth-to-mouth sloppy kiss. Our slimy tongues were doing a sticky dance as the remains of our juices co-mingled. Besides the cum and lube mess—we’d both broken a sweat, and beads of the salty stuff were running off Curtis’ forehead when he pulled away. “How ‘bout that for your morning workout?” He rolled off of me and parked himself on my left side, leaning his sticky self against me.

I decided it was high time to question him—get to know a little bit more about this sex maniac—or whatever. “How long you been playing around? You know…doin’ this shit?”

“Oh, probably a good couple of years. Kind of fooled around late in high school and the summer before I went to college, but mostly it just got really wild in the dorms and around campus.

Curtis went on to tell me about his hooking up with his dorm buddy, Hugh. Hugh was huge—and early on he’d caught Curtis looking too long at his body and crotch. Next thing, Curtis was sucking huge Hugh’s dick, and it went on from there. Hugh was a handful and demanded servicing at a minimum of once daily. He was also a jock—on the wrestling and track & field team. Word soon got around campus regarding Curtis’ special talents. Soon Curtis had more customers than he could handle, so in an effort to sort of weed out the crowd, he began extracting favors for sex. This didn’t work out too well, so he came up with the stellar idea of charging.

This worked out sweet! If business was too good, he’d just increase his rates a bit—to the point where he was making some really good money. He was able to buy any clothes he wanted, food, booze, and turned into one fine party animal. Unfortunately his thriving little business went bust—when he flunked out of school.

“So, how did you meet up with Ralph?” As long as he was spilling out his life story, might as well ask away.

“I figured you’d get around to that. Actually, I met up with him less than a month ago. After going through the hell of coming home and hearing the relentless parental castigations, I just spent most of the time in my room. Didn’t see anybody, and just jacked off a lot. This went on for probably three weeks, but it just wasn’t cuttin’ it. After I got my dad talked into making a couple of payments on my truck, before I lost it, I decided I’d need to find a job. I knew I could make money—either the 9-5 way, or the good old college way.

One night when my parents were away at a wedding (I’d managed to fake sickness), I just got too antsy, jumped in the truck and went downtown. I actually found Ralph by accident, as I was attracted to his car. Nice one huh? I followed him around, a bit, then he turned on the “gay circuit”, and he pulled over. We talked and then rode around a bit, and just like last night…things happened and all of the sudden, I was $100 richer. We met up several more times, and within two weeks, I was able to pay dad back the money for my truck, and make the next payment myself.

They asked me where I was getting the money, and I told them I’d been working some odd jobs. Since my “work” was mostly at night, I’d been able to develop quite a tan during the day, and the “laborer odd job work done outside” worked pretty well—for a while. But I got the feeling they weren’t really buying into this after a while, so that’s when I applied at the motel—I also needed a real job. Besides, if I was to ever move out on my own, I’d need some kosher source of income—a real job.”

“So Curtis, any idea how much money you made in school? I hope you don’t mind me prying, but going to school this fall, it sound’s like a good deal to me. I want to keep my grades up and my parents don’t want me to work. Sounds like some spending money to me for just a couple hours spent.”

“Well, I never really kept track—no black book or anything like that, but I’d guess that over the course of one semester, I’d probably hauled down a good $2500.”

“Shit, you’re pullin’ my leg!”

Curtis reached over and began stroking my shrunken cock; “I wouldn’t pull your leg, now would I.” He then just laughed. I guessed he wouldn’t—well not that way, anyway.

“How about rustling up some breakfast? You hungry? I’m starving myself.”

Curtis got up off the bed, I followed suit. He just walked out of the bedroom and headed for the kitchen. I hesitated a bit, and then recalled that his parents were at the lake and wouldn’t be home until late Sunday. I just went with the flow and followed his lead after making sure I wasn’t dripping anything.

Once in the kitchen, Curtis washed his hands at the sink, and then started rummaging through the fridge. He pulled out some fruit, milk, and then a package of iced rolls from the breadbox. “The plates are in that cupboard on your upper left.”

“Don’t you think we’d better clean up a bit before we eat and get the kitchen greasy?” I asked politely, wishing to take care of his parent’s apparently clean house.

“Why bother when we’d just be getting messed up all over again anyway.” Curtis answered as I felt his sticky body press against my butt cheeks and backside as he pulled me back from reaching for the plates. I almost dropped the damn things.

“Okay, I guess you got a point there, but I’d better just eat standing over the counter.” Curtis did have a point—it was parked comfortably between my ass cheeks. We finished our light breakfast quickly—we were both hungry and shoveled down the food. I’d probably eaten cardboard if offered. Unfortunately, when it came to washing things down, the milk had just turned sour. Curtis made a face and spit it out in the sink.

“Well nix that shit. How about a beer?”

“A beer in the morning? Not usually, man.”

“Yeah, but look, it’s past noon—nearly 1 PM, okay?” Curtis just reached into the fridge and pulled out two bottles of Bud, screwed off the caps and handed one to me. Well, I wasn’t going home anytime soon, and I was dying of thirst. I just took it and took a sip—a long sip—it felt so cool and good doing down. I drank about half of the bottle, letting it tingle down my throat. Curtis did the same. “Hey, I thought you didn’t want the stuff.”

“Yeah, we’ll I was thirsty!” We both just laughed.

“Hey, how ‘bout we check out the tube?” Curtis turned to the fridge, grabbed two more Bud’s and headed back to his room. I just followed while polishing off the last of the bottle of suds.

God, the bed was a mess. Curtis flicked on the set and we watched a tennis match. We lay back down in the cum and lube stained sheets. The stuff was initially cold, but warmed up with our bodies rather quickly. Both of us were in fact a mess front to back—head to toe. Curtis didn’t seen to care and neither did I—actually it just felt good lying there next to each other, our sides stuck together.

The tennis match heated up and the players were sweating profusely. Two athletic guys—really hot looking—and the more muscled of the two and pretty much sweated through his entire shirt—you could clearly see the outline of the build of his chest and both of his nipples. Curtis commented that it was a real turn on. His swelling little one eyed monster confirmed it. Seeing his state, my slimy little salamander gave a hearty twitch also.

Curtis reached over to his nightstand, I assumed it was for the canister of lube—but I was wrong, he just grabbed his nearly empty bottle of Bud, but instead of drinking it, he poured its contents on my dick and up my “happy trail”. I jumped a bit; the beer was nearly warm, but still cold to the touch. He set the bottle down, then just leaned over and began sucking my pud to life. The combination of his suckling and his slippery rod riding against my leg made me fully hard very quickly. I was surprised that I was apparently ready for another go ‘round so soon.

Next, I felt Curtis’ hand push under my thigh and up between my cheeks. “How about we graduate from our fingers to some real honest to goodness fucking? You’re the guest, you can go first.”

No sooner had he said that, than Curtis got on top of me, facing me and impaled himself on my boner in one fluid movement—sinking all the way to the base of it, then rocking back and forth a couple of times before pulling almost out, then slamming down again. He picked up the pace, his eyes turning glassy with lust, and then rolling backwards like he was in some sort of trance. I grabbed his rod sort of instinctively, but also to hold on to something, steadying myself under this boy-bitch in heat. I was tingling already and I knew it wouldn’t be long. I tried to communicate this to Curtis, but he wasn’t having any interruptions. He was too far-gone and was going to just go for it—big time. Some 15 or 20 thrusts later I’d reached that pinnacle of pleasure too—and exploded my wad inside his ass. The spreading warmth must have sent him over the edge too. Curtis’ rod jerked violently, then let loose, sending volley after streaming volley of watery juices spraying in my hair, my face, then my upper chest, and finally flooding my stomach and belly button.

Curtis leaned forward and pressed his body against my sticky mess, forcing the still warm stuff to ooze out both sides and run down onto the sheets. He then nuzzled my cum spattered left side of my neck, then licked it up, then attacked another splotch on my forehead before bending down and offering me his found treasure. It just felt so good—so wicked—so intoxicatingly pungent, so delightfully raunchy. I felt my own rod loosen its grip on his asshole, and then quietly slide out of its confines. Curtis sat up, leaned over and grabbed the two unopened Bud’s handing one to me.

“Whew, that was one fine fuck! I think I’m going to need a breather before I take my turn.” We both laughed and chugged down the beers—they were a bit on the warm side, but they sure wet our thirsty whistles.

Afterwards, we just both lay down against each other taking in the rest of the tennis match, matching the player’s sweat with our own, while reveling in the elixir of sweat, cum, lube, beer—the room reeked of hours of the scent of man-sex! I thought to myself—locker rooms smelt cleaner than this.

Whether non-stop activities of the last 24 hours, the beer, the soothing stickiness of Curtis sliding against my backside spooning me, or the deliciously arousing and mixture of man scent—maybe they all just collectively took their toll. We both drifted off for a well-deserved late-afternoon nap.

I’ve got to tell ya—if either of us had a wet dream—it would have been impossible to know, much less prove it.