Gay Erotic Stories

This is a long story, but bare with me here. That night was the big game and I was psyched. Cardinals vs the Rangers-and as usual, I had a backstage pass. I'm a sports writer; I have been for about ten years now. I graduated with a degree in general Journalism, fucked around for about five years in Japan with their baseball league, and came back to write freelance. Usually at games I sit near the ESPN crew and write down stats or observations, sometimes I hang around the locker rooms looking for an interview. Most of the time I hang around the locker rooms looking for--well, just looking. Man, I have seen some of the hottest men alive prancing around with no clothes on, laughing and joking, covered with sweat, dirt. I love being in the winning locker room after a game watching the men surprising each other with wet towel whips to the ass. It smells great in there too. But that game was special. Afterwards, I had an exclusive interview with Mark McGwire. I had never met him before but from watching TV and talking to other writers I expected a distant, private man. After the game I marched down to the locker room like always, watching the parade of naked men present themselves. I was still hung up about the week old breakup with my bear boyfriend of two years, but I was trying to put that to the side. Life will go on. I looked around for Mark but he wasn't there. Pretty soon the locker room cleared out-the scent of man was still strong though and I thought about looking through some of the lockers for sweaty jocks before I left but decided against it. I was pretty disappointed, but hey, Mark was definitely an important and busy guy so I wasn't angry. I decided to leave and maybe try to catch him somewhere else. I got up to go and almost crashed into a huge chest that surprised me from behind. It was him. "Hey, Tom. Look, sorry about being late. I just got caught up with some fans out there and I had to sign these autographs and..." he babbled on, throwing his glove on a bench, opening his locker. I mumbled, "That's alright," but I'm not sure if he heard me since he was still explaining. Suddenly he stopped short and said, "Hey, it's nice to meet you, Tom." He grabbed my hand in his huge paw and squeezed firmly. I got my first look at his ruggedly handsome face straight on, his thick red goatee, his square jaw, and his intense eyes, and I knew I was already too close to him for my (his) own good. He was still holding my hand in his strong fingers (it was SO warm), until I, assuming it was socially appropriate, withdrew my hand. He smiled. "I really like your writing," he said, "You try to put feeling into your stories don't you?" We started talking about my writing career, he was very interested, and he began to undress. I'm pretty good at controlling myself; I kept up a good conversation, but I think at that point he already knew I was fascinated with him. He threw his hat across the room and took off his shirt, in the process nearly ripping it with his huge muscles. I switched from staring at his eyes while he talked to me, to staring at his huge chest, covered with thick red fur, to his gigantic forearms and biceps, to his large, luscious, dark pink nipples--all were equally enamoring. I have a thing for underarm hair so when he stretched both of his arms up and behind his head, there was no way to keep my eyes off his body. He stopped talking and sniffed his right pit. "Whew! That shit is strong!" he laughed with that great encompassing laugh that warmed me even then. I could smell him from seven feet away. The image of droplets of sweat running through his underarm hair, down through his soaked chest hair, to his belt is still stuck with me today. He turned away from me and began pulling down his pants as we talked about his home run records. He kept switching the conversation back to me, but I wasn't thinking about the interview at that point. I watched him put his pants to the side, standing with only his jock strap on. He glanced over his shoulder at me a few times during the conversation and no matter how hard I tried, every time he turned he must have caught me staring at his hard, muscular ass. The third time he caught me he kind of chuckled to himself and removed his jockstrap. His ass was pleasantly hairy, and darker than most of the baseball players' asses I had seen in the locker rooms and in my bed (they don't get much sun). Like his broad back and his amazing chest and arms, his ass and legs seemed to have extra muscles that most humans don't. I had a painful erection at that point, pushing against my jeans, threatening to bust some buttons. Mark threw on a towel and turned to me (I quickly-but painfully-crossed my legs). I looked away from him and saw his hat lying on the floor. I picked it up and began playing with it. Mark was rummaging through his locker for shower stuff and saw me tossing it up and down. "I love that hat," he said, walking over to me. "Yeah, the leagues hats are definitely a high point," I said, sarcastically. "Naw, they're great." He was rubbing his left nipple distractedly, staring at me. He seemed to be considering something. To this day I still remember the next minute or two in vivid detail, though I hardly believe it. "Here, try it on. I bet our heads are about the same size," he said. I smiled, Mark was a nice guy. I put on the hat, still damp from the game. It fit perfectly. "How do I look?" "You look..."he paused for a sec, a half smile, half inexplicable look on his face. "You look good, Tom." I gulped a little; Mark was staring into my eyes and I was melting again. I'm a good looking guy-black hair, thick black mustache, built body--but I was still amazed by Mark's intent gaze. My cock began throbbing again. "Yeah, it definitely looks good on you, it's just a....little, crooked." He closed in on me. "Here, let me fix it." I sat at his waist level, staring into his belly button, a hurricane of hair swirling around it. As he rearranged the hat on my head, I gazed down at his towel, where a movement had caught my eye. Sure enough, Mark--the strong, experienced, and sexy man playing with my head, was getting a hardon. In the few seconds that he rearranged the hat, I watched his bulge twitch a few times. "There," he said quietly, and he reached down to my chin and tilted my head up to gaze into his face. He laughed awkwardly, the first breach in his confidence, and he knelt down to check me out eye to eye. "I think I'm gonna have to give you this hat, cuz..." he drew his breath and shook his head, laughed again, "you're so damn sexy in it." I laughed too, feeling every part of my body become extremely sensitive, especially my heart (and my cock, nipples, ass, etc.) After a few seconds, I stammered, "Do you usually start off your interviews like this, or-" and he kissed me. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine, slowly working his tongue into my mouth, though not far. His goatee scraped my chin and lips--I cherished his chin, his lips, and his nose rubbing against mine, his breath warming my insides, the sounds he made, his scent. Gently, he pulled away, but not too far. We both laughed in unison, his a deep, satisfied laugh and mine a desperately unbelieving sigh. "That was fun," he said, his brow wrinkled and smiling. He had his hand resting on my thigh, still kneeled down in front of me, searching my eyes for approval, friendship. At this point I was past most rational thought, concerned only with the body in front of me. I grabbed his head from the back and pulled him to my lips again(he was a little surprised by my force, I think---I caught his lips in a bemused grin---I love kissing smiles) this time forcing my tongue into his mouth, pressing firmly against his warmth, frantically inhaling his face. He instantly wrapped his bear arms around my back, moving his body in between my legs, responding with pressure and choked moaning. The feeling of his facial hair filled me with so much lust that I almost came right then. I moved my hands down his back and across his powerful shoulders, enthralled with his raw scent, the sweat beginning to leak out of his body again. I think I tried to say, "You taste good," in between the kisses but what probably came out was a muffled sigh. He kept pressing against me, trying to rub his chest and cock against mine, so much so that I slid off the bench backwards with him still on top of me, cushioning my fall with his huge forearms behind me. He laughed between the kisses, completely on top of me, our legs still dangling on the bench. His bulge pressing against mine felt wonderful. He drew away momentarily, to reach up (me still cradled in his chest and arms) and take off my new hat and replace it on his head, backwards. "I'm ready for action now!," he said, grinning. "Finally," I said. We slid off the bench, our lips locked again, and he began exploring my neck with his goatee, lips, and tongue while I rubbed his back down. He started to unbutton my shirt while I slid my hands into his towel, finding the top of his crack, rubbing the slowly increasing coat of hair. He sat up a little, his elbows resting on either sides of me and finished unbuttoning my shirt, and immediately began licking and sucking my nipples, sometimes rubbing his goatee or nose across them, smiling as they became rigidly hard and goose-bumped, responding to his breath. After a few minutes of doing this and mutual crotch massaging, I had to get my share. "I think it's my turn," I said. He looked up from what he was doing. "Oh no. Not till I get these pants off," he said, seriously. He sat up, and unzipped my jeans, while I took my shirt the rest of the way off. The floor in the locker room was hard and cold, but Mark wasn't. He was kneeling between my legs again, lifting my legs up higher to get the jeans off, staring at me intently a few times. He finally got them off after I kicked my shoes off and he grunted, still holding my legs in the air, bending his head down to encompass my hard cock still hidden in my underwear. He couldn't get much in, but my underwear became thoroughly damp and warm. "Just take the shit off," I said. He did, and my thick seven inch cock was soon completely in his mouth. His throat felt amazing, his slow movement up and down my cock did nothing to stop the flow of precum dripping from it. I moaned in approval, rubbing his back. He grabbed my balls with his hand as he sucked and squeezed and tickled and then he grabbed my cock and licked it up and down both sides, tickling the tip with his tongue, rubbing it against his eyes and goatee. He sucked my balls for awhile, eventually moving his fingers and bulging arm up to my mouth to suck on. I sucked on his fingers and kissed his rough palm and soon both my dick and his fingers were well lubricated. He stuck an exploratory finger a few centimeters up my ass. I grunted. He had big fingers and I hadn't been probed in awhile. As good as all this was and as turned on as I was by this extremely handsome, masculine, middle-aged, hairy, and charismatic man working me over, I had to get mine. I pulled his face away from my cock (he looked up with a pleading face, his mouth still open) and steered him towards my mouth, kissing him again. With a move I learned in the locker rooms of some stadium in North Carolina, I wrapped my leg around his ass and pushed him over on his back, sliding my hard cock between us. I was aware of his as of yet unleashed cock pushing its way through his towel but for the moment I was mesmerized by his upper body. I grabbed both of his hands, lacing our fingers together which made his face beam, kissing his fingers and forearms and biceps, rubbing his shoulders, finally guiding his hands behind his head. "Relax," I said, "I don't mind doing some of the work." "Work? This isn't work. It's ..." he trailed off into a rambling whisper, soon surrendering to heavy breathing as I caressed his bulge with one hand and proceeded to bury my face in his armpit. Having myself that surrounded by his scent, his flesh, and his voice, his breath and strength, was too much for me; I moaned as shivers shot straight down my body to my full cock and with a few rubs against his towel, cum poured out and soaked it. I gasped for breath in his pit. "Oh well," he said after he discovered what had happened, "I really wanted some of that in my ass." I never thought I'd hear Mark McGwire say that. "Don't worry, Mark. That's just my warm-up," I said and I meant it. I had cum more than once during a short amount of time several times before, but never had my dick become so hard, so quickly. I told him so. "That's high praise," he laughed, pulling me down to kiss me. I drew away to pull the cum soaked towel away from his waist, now fully ready to satisfy my desires of his cock. It was beautiful. His penis was eight inches long and just as thick as the rest of him, the head dark pink and perfectly shining with the precum that had been leaking out for minutes now. Thick veins ran through it down to the base where there was a thick patch of dark orange pubic hair (graying a little), trailing up towards the belly button and his chest hair. His large balls were swollen looking though obviously pulled tight against him in anticipation. The smell was intoxicating. I grabbed his cock by the base and looked up at him. "God, just your hand feels good," he said, closing his eyes and arching his head back. I rubbed his shaft a few more times, only lightly touching the bottom of the head, watching his cock and his face. I bent down and nibbled at his head with my lips and tongue which brought the loudest moan yet from Mark (the man connected to this penis I had to constantly remind myself). I kept jacking him off as I decided to taste his balls, putting one and then the other in my mouth. I loved the texture of his wrinkled nut sack in my mouth and I could feel the warmth within them growing. I decided to cut to the chase at that point and moved back to his cock, filling my mouth with his throbbing meat, squeezing his testicles with my hand. I really sucked on it for awhile(it felt like fifteen minutes!), forcing it down my throat and all through my mouth, rubbing all around the head with my tongue. If that was Mark sucking on me like that I'm sure that I would have cummed all in his mouth by now, but Mark seemed to just need more and more. He glanced down at me every once in awhile with that seemingly blank look that men get when they're being blown--the one that is bordering so closely to a grimace of pleasure that staring intently with the mouth half open is the only face they can manage. I knew by his eyes that he wasn't close to climax, though he definitely was completely revved up and feeling each touch. I saw his huge hands clasping and unclasping so I reached up and placed them on my head. He sighed a little in relief and began to stroke my hair lovingly as I slowly let him take control of the situation. A rhythm developed as he guided my head back and forth over his cock, making sure that he wasn't going too deep for me, which ended up not being a problem as my throat and gag reflex gave way to the massive hunger in my gut to have his cock in me. I was oblivious to the world, only aware of his warm hands caressing my cheeks and neck, his thick pubic hair in my face, his balls bouncing on my chin, and the huge extension of this man seeking some distant climax with a sense of urgency that turned me on even more. After a few minutes, without saying anything, we switched gears. His hands shifted to his own dick as I moved down to lick his ass. He was sweating profusely down here, clumping the hair and creating a wonderful smell. I disregarded any preface to what came next and sat up on my knees, spread his powerful legs wide in a split that stretched his groin muscles, and thrust my cock into his asshole. I grunted and he barked, his face initially clenched in pain, but immediately loosening up as he grew accustomed to me inside of him. "Sorry," I said but he only grinned and looked at me approvingly. I was coming close to another orgasm, a huge one in fact, but I tried to borrow some of Mark's eternal potency to see this through. By the look on his face, he really needed to be fucked and I was definitely happy to oblige. He continued to rub his own cock, his powerful chest and arms bulging out from exertion. As I fucked him I watched his hands rub thoroughly over his cock head, down his shaft, squeezing his balls occasionally, and I was filled with such a joy, a longing, a gratefulness to be connected to this man that I broke my rhythm slightly to lean over and kiss him. His hands immediately left his cock to press my face harder into his. I rubbed from his shoulders down his arms to his hands, down his tight sides to grab his cheeks. We were tightly clumped together, his cock pressed up between us, my cock still exploring his ass, my lips kissing his collarbone. I think we both really needed this--god knows I haven't felt truly close to another man for a long time. "I'm ready," I said into his mouth and raising myself up and out of him, helping pull him up too. I lay back on the bench, with my ass hanging off the end, still holding his hand. He knelt down between my legs, surrounded by a locker on his right side and another behind him where I propped my legs up (the bench was even a perfect height for his cock) and he slowly pulled me on to his cock. I moaned, my head tilted up to watch. He pulled off the persistent baseball hat and I stared at his beautiful face, while finally satisfying the hunger to have him inside of me. The burning in my ass felt more like a completeness, like his cock was the key (a fucking big key) and a wonderful rhythm began. We were breathing in unison now, both sweating and muscles tensed, using what ever force we had left to finish it. After about four minutes of him dazedly fucking my ass, I could see Mark's eternal strength slowly fading. He would stare at me and smile, but his face was becoming more and more pained with ecstasy. Watching this powerful, fully-matured (not to mention handsome as fuck) man becoming so turned on by me and brought to such a level of helpless pleasure, longing for something that he wanted only from me and only I could give him, turned me on past belief. I think instinctively he realized all this, maybe feeling the exact same feelings, and his hands let go of my legs and grabbed onto my cock for leverage. He started moaning loudly and soon I was too, until I came explosively onto his hands and chest, even spraying some into his face and over his shoulder, which he furiously accepted in his momentous state. As my cock began to slow down the amounts of cum I poured on his chest, he shouted and released himself inside my ass. More than gushing hot cum poured into me; he thrust his entire self with each push. I grabbed his forearms for support which were still pumping my own dick and I shouted too. He was done quickly, though I'm still finding deposits of cum in my underwear to this day, and he leaned over, kissed me passionately and rather wetly, and withdrew to suck what cum was still pouring out of my dick. I wanted to do the same so I pulled his leg around, his mouth rotating on my cock, and positioned him over the bench and my mouth(a great 69). I sucked the last drops of cum from his slowly softening cock, and wiped his abundant sweat, cum, and hair all over my face, locking myself into that safe and warm world, closing my eyes. Apparently I either passed out at that point (I had Mark worried for a while) or just fell asleep with him still on top of me, emptying my balls(he told me later that he continued sucking cum from my cock for about two minutes! Apparently Mark wasn't the only one who needed a good flushing out). I woke up sitting up against him with my back on his chest (him leaning back on a locker), cradled between his legs with his arms wrapped around me and his face buried in my neck. He was rubbing my chest. "Tom......Tom. You're finally awake," he grinned, kissing me on the cheek. I looked up and huddled against him more tightly. "Mark, that was-" "Wonderful," he said, and we laughed. "You've got some cum in your goatee there, Mark." He grabbed the baseball hat and shoved it down on my face, over my eyes. I leaned back and licked his facial hair and lips. Later on he would drive me over to his house and we would start getting to know each other better, if that was really possible, but for some strange reason (maybe it was because I was just realizing that I had woken up in a locker room), all I could say next was, "So what are we gonna do about that interview?" He laughed and we kissed for a long time. Comments? Send to onthehunt45@hotmail.com