Gay Erotic Stories

That last year at the Union Hunt private academy on the James, west of Richmond, had been a testing one for Boyd. He’d known since he was ten what his father’s leanings were. Boyd’s mother had split a couple of years before that. Boyd didn’t think that had been because his father, Karl, was gay. He thought his parents were what were called swingers at the time and that his mother just wanted to swing out farther—and wasn’t much interested in being either a wife or a mother. Whatever the case was, she disappeared and left Boyd and his father in Richmond alone. Karl seemed to have been trying to lead a normal-looking life, but Boyd was only ten when Aaron appeared on the scene and Boyd’s revelation came that Karl would be switching to being his mother now and that Aaron was going to take on the role of father—even in Karl’s bed.

But it wasn’t really like Aaron had come into the world of Boyd and his father. It was more like Boyd and his father appeared on Aaron’s scene, because Aaron was older and richer than Karl was, and father and son moved in with Aaron in his larger house in Richmond. The only part of this that left Boyd feeling insecure, strangely enough, was that Karl didn’t give up the family home, so Boyd never had a feeling of permanence with Aaron. It had always seemed like Aaron was just a trial situation and that maybe Boyd shouldn’t even unpack his suitcase.

Early in Boyd’s senior year at Union Hunt, Aaron had unexpectedly died from a heart attack, and Karl and Boyd moved back into the old family home. Karl sank into a depression that turned Boyd increasingly to his teachers and counselors in school for guidance and fathering. For several months, the fathering was picked up mainly by his swim and tennis coaches. Vic Peterson was in his first year as tennis coach, and that’s where Boyd got most of his attention. They were still in their fall tennis schedule when Boyd began to realize that he was beginning to have an attraction to the tall, blond, and muscular Vic, not yet out of his twenties, that went beyond respect and fatherly advice.

And Boyd fancied that interest was being reciprocated.

Boyd didn’t have any prejudices against a man being with a man—his father had lived with another man since Boyd was ten, and Boyd wasn’t blind to the sexual relationship the two men were in. Aaron and Karl slept in the same bed and Aaron topped Karl, sometimes rather noisily. Karl made no effort to hide this from his son. And Boyd didn’t have any defenses against accepting that he could go that way himself, not that he had any such attraction to either the significantly older Aaron or to his own father.

Karl had attended the fall tennis team banquet. He was starting to come out of his depression earlier in Boyd’s senior year and had come to some of the tennis matches. Boyd was the team’s star player and Vic and Karl talked several times about Boyd’s promise and were working together on putting together an athletic scholarship for Boyd. By the beginning of spring practice, they had found him a berth at the second-ranked University of Virginia. It had taken a lot of time together for Karl and Vic to achieve this, a time in which Karl came out of his depression and started to become close with Vic.

All was good, at least for his father, Boyd thought. He saw Vic as a possible replacement for Aaron in Karl’s life. He saw the relationship in such a light, because on more than one occasion, he had come home unexpectedly and heard the two men fucking in Karl’s bedroom. Most of these times the bedroom door had been ajar and Boyd had seen the two on Karl’s bed, with Karl on all fours and Vic crouched over his hips and doggy fucking him.

Vic had a great body and was a muscular and handsome blond. Boyd didn’t always pull away from his vantage point at the door. His attraction to the tennis coach had advanced through the year, and Boyd looked at the two men fucking more with interest and a wish that he was in Karl’s place than in any judgmental way.

It was pulling Karl out of his depression, so Boyd didn’t have any problem with it—other than whether it would change his own relationship with the tennis coach. It didn’t seem to, though. The coach was as attentive to him and his development of his tennis technique and the progress of his studies and what he had to do to satisfy all of UVa’s entrance requirements as he always had been.

Everything was fine until the eighteenth birthday party Karl threw for Boyd in late June at the beach house Aaron had left Karl in Nags Head, North Carolina. The school year at the academy had just concluded, the tennis team had won the state championship for private schools, and Karl invited the team to Nags Head to celebrate Boyd’s birthday.

The team and coaches were stripped down to bathing suits and moving between the small pool on the deck at the rear of the beach house and the surf at the edge of the beach beyond. All of them were beautiful hunks, including the two tennis coaches, who had gotten to the lower ranks of the tennis pros before finding that the income from teaching tennis at private schools was more assured than trying to make it to a second round in a regional tennis tournament.

Karl was down on the beach helping to set up a volleyball net and most of the rest of the team, and the coaches were down there too. Boyd had been in the pool at the house and had come out of it and was standing by a lounge toweling himself off when Vic appeared at the French Doors into the kitchen area.

“Come upstairs with me a minute, Boyd,” the coach said. “Got you something special for your birthday.”

“Sure thing,” Boyd answered. “Soon as I dry off.”

“Where to?” Boyd asked as they mounted the two flights of stairs to the first of two levels of bedrooms. Vic had put his suitcase in Karl’s room earlier in the day, leaving Boyd to wonder what the accommodations would be. But since Vic’s luggage was in there, Boyd assumed that’s where they were headed.

“All the way up, to the crow’s nest,” Vic said. “Nice and private. Nobody will disturb us there.”

The crow’s nest was a small, square room, with windows on all sides, at the very top of the house. The best view of the beach was from here. The only furnishings in the room were built-in padded benches around all four sides and an oversized ottoman in the center.

As soon as they got to the top of the stairs into this room, Boyd looked around for whatever present Vic had stashed up here. But he quickly found out that the present wasn’t something stashed up here. The taller, more muscular, and more powerful coach embraced Boyd from behind, pulling Boyd’s back into his chest. One had went to Boyd’s chin, which Vic cupped and turned to his own face. The other hand slid down the front of Boyd’s Speedo and cupped his balls and the root of his cock.

“Coach!” Boyd exclaimed.

“You’re legal now,” Vic growled. “We both know you’ve wanted it for some time.”

He took Boyd’s lips in his in a possessive kiss. Boyd struggled against him, but ineffectually, and slowly gave in as the kiss mastered him and his cock engorged to the touch of Vic. He couldn’t deny that it was what he had wanted for some time. He just knew it wasn’t right, that they shouldn’t be doing this. It was his father, Karl, Vic should be paying attention to.

But Boyd’s want betrayed him.

When Vic pulled away from the kiss, Boyd’s face followed him and Boyd’s lips opened to Vic again, hungrily seeking Vic’s mouth. The coach laughed and then pushed his tongue into Boyd’s mouth again and curled Boyd’s tongue into his mouth, where he trapped it and sucked on it.

When Vic felt the young man relax in his embrace, he came out of the kiss and ran his hands all over Boyd’s body, caressing bulges and exploring crevasses. When Boyd’s “you shouldn’t” murmurs died down into sighing and mewing, Vic turned Boyd and laid him down on his back on the ottoman.

“Don’t fight me in this, son,” he murmured. “We both know. We’ve both had to wait. But I’m going to fuck you now, and you’re going to love it.”

He pulled Boyd’s Speedo off his legs and went down on his knees between Boyd’s thighs as he spread them apart. Boyd gasped and moaned as the mouth came down over his cock head.

“No, no, it’s not right. We shouldn’t. We can’t. Oh, shit, ohhhh,” Boyd groaned as the coach gave him head with his mouth and started worrying Boyd’s hole with his fingers.

He was standing over Boyd, between his thighs, and squeezing lube on his sheathed cock when Boyd lurched to the side, grabbed his Speedo off the floor, and with a “Just can’t do it,” tumbled down the stairs.

It was later, after all the partygoers had departed and they’d eaten dinner, with Vic acting normal and Boyd trying to hide his tension in front of his father, that Karl made his announcement. Vic and Karl had left Boyd in the living room watching a match on the tennis channel while they went to Karl’s bedroom and fucked. After that they both reappeared in the living room for a nightcap.

“We have something to tell you,” Boyd’s father said as they both came into the conversation area in front of the TV and took a seat, side by side.

Boyd turned and looked at his father, trying to avoid looking at Vic, who had a very pleased with himself and confident look on his face. He waited Karl out on what he had to say.

“Vic is moving in with us,” Karl said. “It will be like when you and Aaron and I were together.”

No, Boyd thought. It won’t be like that at all. Aaron never tried to fuck me nor did he ever suggest he wanted to.

“Oh, OK,” Boyd answered.

Karl got up to retrieve the Scotch bottle in the kitchen, and Vic turned a smile toward Boyd. “We’re going to have a great time, the three of us,” he said. “I know it will take some getting used to, since I was your tennis coach and all, but you and I both know what we want. Earlier, up in the crow’s nest . . . I understand you think you’re not ready, but you showed that you wanted me.”

Boyd got up, went to his room, left a note on his dad’s dresser to the effect of just now remembering having promised to play tennis with friends near their home in Richmond early the next morning and that he decided he should go back to Richmond tonight—and let his father and Vic celebrate their new arrangement alone. Then he quietly avoided the living room in exiting the house and was off to get onto Interstate 64 toward Richmond.

For the rest of the summer, the three cohabitated in the Richmond house, but Boyd made sure he never was alone with Vic when his dad wasn’t there.

For Vic’s part, he appeared happy taking care of Karl and just said a couple of times when Karl wasn’t right there that “it was going to happen” and that he could wait for it. It would then be all the sweeter for both of them when it did happen, he said. When he felt frisky, he asked if Boyd remembered how Vic’s cock felt in his hand and if he ever dreamed of it inside him. He’d laugh and Boyd would turn away, embarrassed.

But, yes, Boyd never lost the memory of the feel of Vic’s cock or the want to have it inside him. Boyd was no longer a virgin. He’d lost his male-male virginity, out of frustration, to the friend he’d gone back to Richmond to play tennis with. As chance would have it, this older friend had had the exact same eighteenth-birthday gift in mind for Boyd that Vic had had.

Boyd almost gave it all up to Vic in early December in Boyd’s dorm room at UVa. Vic had visited the university a couple of times in the fall, meeting with Boyd’s new tennis coach and making sure that Boyd was settling into the team. On each previous occasion Karl came with him—but not the second Saturday in December.

After tennis practice at the indoor courts at the university-owned Boar’s Head Inn west of the town, Boyd had gone back to his dorm, showered, and, with a towel around him and standing beside his desk, had picked up the note pad where the university tennis coach had written some notes for him on the day’s practice matches. He heard a noise at the door and looked up to find that Vic was standing there. Vic moved into the room and shut the door behind him and muttered, “It’s time.”

This time Vic got his cock inside Boyd. As before he moved quickly to him, embraced him in overpowering arms, whipped the towel off, and brutally possessed Boyd’s lips and stroked his cock until Boyd was moaning and relaxed in his arms.

When Vic’s cock entered Boyd’s ass for the first time, Vic was standing by the bed, and Boyd was stretched in front of him down onto the bed, his weight on his shoulder blades on the surface of the bed. Boyd’s knees were hooked on Vic’s hips, Vic’s hands were gripping Boyd’s buttocks cheeks, and Boyd’s arms were stretched out from his sides, his fists digging into the edges of the mattress.

Boyd was murmuring ineffectual objections, but upon the second stroke of Vic’s cock deep inside him, Boyd began to move his hips with the fuck, and he threw his head back and howled, “Oh, shit. O, fuck. Fuck me. Do me!”

By now Boyd wasn’t the least bit inexperienced. He had been seduced and fucked by an upperclassman the first week of classes, increasingly suffering from want for the man fucking him now, a man Boyd had been trying to think of as off limits. And since that upperclassman there had been three others inside him—all of them at college, including the upperclassman, more than once. All of them lost enough to him to continue to be sniffing around him.

There also was Chuck, a body builder champion and trainer at the gym that both he and Karl went to in Richmond. He’d gotten Boyd alone in the sauna right after closing one night and, using his superior strength, had manhandled and fucked Boyd. He was a hunk and a half, though, and Boyd had only put up resistance because Chuck had insisted on wrestling him for control and then helplessness as he pinned Boyd to the sauna shelf and took him with brutal thrusts. It was just this sort of taking by Chuck and Vic, more than the fumblings by the college guys, that aroused Boyd the most

There was nothing more Boyd wanted emotionally and physically than this fucking Vic was giving. But the guilt of it just would not go away. This was supposed to be his father’s man; he couldn’t do this to his father.

On the sixth stroke, Boyd was clutching at Vic’s buttocks and digging his nails in, holding Vic’s crotch close in between his thighs, but he was sobbing and muttering a mantra of “we can’t!” On the ninth stroke, he had his fists on Vic’s belly, pushing him away, and then he rolled away from Vic and off the side of the bed. When he came up on his feet, he had a pair of jeans gripped in a hand. He was out of the door and had escaped into a nearby unoccupied dorm room and shut and locked the door before Vic had been able to adjust himself and come out of his room. Boyd heard Vic moving around in the living room of the five-bedroom suite for a few minutes but then all was quiet.

Boyd waited another half hour. Then he came out of the room and, seeing only a suite mate sitting in the living room and declaring that no older man was there or in Boyd’s room, he went to his room, hurriedly packed a bag, dressed warmly, and hopped on his motorcycle. He couldn’t stay here until he knew that Vic had left town and he couldn’t go to Richmond where Vic undoubtedly would head from here. He had a key to the Wintergreen winter resort mountain house at the top of the Blue Ridge that Aaron had left his father.

It was a bit more than an hour’s drive on his motorcycle up the mountain. By the time he got to the base of the mountain, it had begun to snow. By the time he got up to the house, which was far down a winding and dipping lane off the main road up the mountain, he had had to get off the bike and push it. The snow already was accumulating. It was dark when he entered the house from the garage, where he’d stashed the motorcycle, and he had to rev up the heat. After turning it up, he went to the bedroom that was designated as his, climbed under the blanket on the bed, fully clothed other than the wet jacket and trousers he left on the washer in the garage, and was asleep in moments.

He slept through to the next morning. When he opened his eyes and looked through the undraped windows all he could see was white. He got out of bed and went over to the windows. White everywhere; deep snow. No sign of clearing on the road below the house. It looked like it was nearly a foot deep. The blessing was that there still was electricity, but just as he said that, the electricity went off as well.

There were large fireplaces in the living room and family room and he hurriedly laid and lit fires in those. They would keep much of the house warm. There was a propane gas stove in the kitchen, and he put coffee on that to perc.

With a sigh, he returned and went into the bathroom off his bedroom, did his “thing,” and took a shower, taking advantage of the water in the hot water heater still being hot. Coming out, he went to his bureau and took out a pair of briefs from the clothing he kept at the mountain house. He was pulling jeans out of his closet when he smelled it. The smell of strong coffee.

The coffee called him, and he padded down the hallway to the living areas.

Vic was sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, drinking a cup of coffee. He was naked. On the countertop in front of him was a pile of condom packets and a can of spray lube.

“It’s getting cold in here,” Vic said in a calm, matter-of-fact voice. “I think it’s going to take rubbing our bodies together to create heat.”

Boyd took off for the front door, with no plan other than escape. He got the door open and snow that had been a foot deep tumbled across the threshold before Vic reached him, pulled him back, slammed the door shut again, and then slammed Boyd down on his belly on the living room carpet. Holding Boyd in place with strong hands gripping his waist after he’d stripped Boyd’s briefs off, Vic came down on his chest on the back of Boyd’s thighs and Boyd felt a wet tongue working its way into his ass crack.

“Raise your butt,” Vic commanded, and, with a moan, Boyd raised his buttocks enough for Vic to pull his cock and balls through between his thighs so that he could work the asshole, cock, and balls together with his mouth and fingers.

Boyd bucked and writhed until Vic instructed him to lie still, and Boyd did so.

“Raise your butt more. Present your hole to me. It’s beyond time. I’m not going to wait any more.”

With a whimper, Boyd went up on his knees and raised his buttocks.

Vic laughed. “You want it, don’t you?”

Boyd’s answer was a gasp and a groan as Vic crouched over his hips and entered him. The thrust was accompanied by the electricity going back on. Boyd turned his head to look into Vic’s face. What he saw told him that Vic wasn’t going to be put off this time. Then Vic began to pump.

“Please, please,” Boyd whimpered.

“Please, what? You made me wait too long.”

“Please . . . fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

“About time, you little fucker. You’ve been a real tease.” Vic brought his chest down on Boyd’s back, reached for and gripped the young man’s wrists, and stroked hard and deep until they both had ejaculated.

Vic fucked Boyd from the rear, bent over the arm of a living room easy chair. Vic fucked Boyd on Karl’s bed with Boyd on his back and his legs being held raised and spread by Vic. Vic fucked Boyd in the shower, with Boyd’s back against the stall wall and his knees hooked on Boyd’s hips. That night after dinner, Vic fucked Boyd on Karl’s bed again kneeling between Boyd’s spread thighs, pushing his knees under Boyd’s buttocks, and pulling his channel on and off the cock.

Afterward, the two stretched against each other in the darkness of the room, Boyd wrapped in Vic’s arms, Boyd asked him, “How did you get up here? In the snow? I can’t see that anyone . . .”

“That’s right, we’re trapped in the snow up here. Well, you are. I’m just where I want to be. And I’m going to fuck you silly, make you completely mine before the snowplows come through.”

“But how did you . . . ?”

“I dropped in from heaven,” Vic said, and then he laughed. “I’m your saving angel.”

He was lifting Boyd up on his knees.

“Please, Vic. Enough. Haven’t we . . . enough . . . ?”

“Lift your ass. Present.”

Boyd cried out in surprise, frustration, and pain . . . changing to uncontrollable passion . . . as Vic thrust inside him and started to stroke hard and deep.

Vic was lying on his back, limbs akimbo, and snoring, when Boyd carefully pulled away from him and rose from the bed. As much as he had wanted Vic to fuck him, it still wasn’t fair to his father. It was just too complicating of all of the relationships involved. He shouldn’t be letting Vic do this.

How did Vic get here? Boyd had to know. Maybe it was a way for him to get out from under this—if he had the strength to pull away from the amazing fucking he was getting.

He slipped on flip-flops and went out into the corridor. He went into every room down the hall, checking out the view from the windows. Snow and more snow. It had started snowing again. He truly was trapped up here in the snow. Nothing but a sea of white from the windows and French doors in the living area. He went out to the garage. Nothing but his own motorcycle in the double garage. This was the last place for him to look. But then he remembered that the house had a third garage—the third one being through a door at the other end of the garage. He went over and opened the door.

The snowmobile was standing in the center of the garage. Boyd walked over and checked it out. Plenty of gasoline in the tank. Ready to go.

“Take it if you want.”

Boyd’s head snapped up, and he turned his head toward the door into the other garage. Vic was standing there, naked, his cock erect again, his body gloriously muscular, perfect, powerful.

“It’s your choice. You can take the snowmobile, go down the mountain, and continue with your life as it is. Or you can stay here and let me fuck your lights out until the snow clears. I can handle both you and your father. I’ll give him what he wants and keep him happy. And if you stay here I’ll give you what I know you want. Which is it to be?”

“You’re just with my father to get at me,” Boyd whispered.

“That’s not being very fair to your father, Boyd. He’s hot enough to want too. It runs in your family. Sure I’ve wanted to fuck you since I arrived at Union Hunt and found you on the tennis team. But I wanted a lot of guys I saw, and when I saw your father, I wanted him too.”

Vic could have gone on, saying how he liked the two-for-one idea of getting both father and son and that it didn’t hurt a bit that Karl’s previous lover had left him a fortune and both a beach house and a mountain house—and that snowmobile there, as a matter of fact. He decided to keep it to what Boyd was struggling over—what he, Boyd, really wanted was what it came down to.

“You wanted me from that time too. Tell me you didn’t. You’ve pulled away from me a couple of times, but not before you made your ‘want’ clear to me. You gonna pull away from me again? Did you come up here to escape me or to escape what you know you want? Being up here together could be a blessing. We can use these days trapped by the snow to burn off the heat of our passion for each other so that we can control it better when we get back to Richmond. Or we can both smolder down there and make clear to your father that something is wrong. If you’re thinking of your father, think about that.”

Boyd lowered his head, not answering. Not saying he was staying—but not saying he was going either.

Vic walked over and lifted him up in his arms and slowly walked into the house. “I’ll stop and let you down any time you want before we get to the bedroom. When we get there, though, it will be too late. You will have already made your choice.”

Boyd lay on his back at the foot of Karl’s bed, his fists gripping the bottom edge of the mattress on each side, his legs snaking up to where he hooked his heels on Vic’s shoulders, using the leverage of his fists to counterpunch the thrusting of Vic’s cock, as he cried out, groaned, and grunted at the pounding, pounding, pounding of his lover’s cock.

He turned his head toward a window and noted that it was snowing out there in earnest.

When he knew that Vic was asleep from the sound of his regular breathing and irregular light snoring, Boyd carefully rolled out of the bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. He padded out to the kitchen and then into the garage, where he checked the snowmobile out. The keys were still in the ignition.

This just wasn’t right, this thing with Vic. He was a great lover, and took Boyd forcefully, just as he liked, but Boyd had been with enough men now that he knew he wasn’t the only one who Boyd could melt to. He just came with too many complications.

Boyd pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and checked the bars. They were coming and going, but he had a sudden urge to talk with his father—to connect with Karl and confirm for himself that he wasn’t going to come between his father and Vic. Or maybe he’d tell his father that Vic was fucking him so that Karl could see the truth of Vic and cut it off, one way or the other. Boyd didn’t know what he’d say to his father. He’d play it by ear if he could get through to him.

“Hi, Dad, it’s me.”

“Great to hear you, son.” Karl sounded really happy. “How’s it going at UVa?”

“Really good, Dad . . . keepin’ the grades up and I’ve got twice as many wins as losses in the indoor tennis season.”

“That’s great to hear. Say, if you can get away from school, I’d like you to come to Richmond. There’s someone—”

“Dad there’s something I want to tell you about Vic.”

“Vic? Vic’s not here. We’ve split. He took off, took all of his things and left. That’s part of . . . could you just come back to Richmond? Maybe just for tomorrow night?”

“Sure Dad. I have a few things to do here in the morning, and then I’ll be there. Bye now. Somebody’s trying to get my attention.”

It would have been too complicated to tell Karl he was in Wintergreen, not Charlottesville. And his father sounded so happy—like it was good that he and Vic had split—that Boyd didn’t want to tell him about Vic coming after him over the phone.

He called his roommate from Nellysford, at the bottom of the mountain Wintergreen was perched on, and then he bundled up and took off. Vic slept on. Boyd left the snowmobile at a gas station at the bottom of the mountain, and his roommate found someone willing to take the drive from UVa to pick him up. In Charlottesville, he caught a few hours of sleep and then drove his own car to Richmond. He wasn’t worried about Vic finding him. With only the motorcycle up at the snowbound house in Wintergreen, Vic wasn’t going anywhere for a while.

Karl met Boyd at the door of the Richmond house, all smiles and in a terrycloth robe. Boyd’s jaw dropped and his eyes nearly popped out of his head when Karl moved away from in front of the hulking man behind him, dressed only in sleeping shorts.

“I want you to meet Chuck,” Karl said. “You may have seen him at our gym. He’s a personal trainer there. That’s what I wanted to tell you. Vic moved out because Chuck is moving in. You all can go in the living room and get acquainted. I have something on the stove that needs attention.”

There was an awkward moment when Chuck and Boyd were alone in the foyer, but Chuck allowed for only a moment before he had moved forward and embraced Boyd.

“Living room now, but bedroom later,” he growled. “You and me, buddy. Ain’t we gonna have some fun?”