Gay Erotic Stories

Sunday began in the half-light before morning. I had slept most of the night facing Sean, who was facing away from me, my body spooning and loosely snuggling his. It must have been between 4 and 5 AM when I awoke to hear Sean growling and sputtering words I could not make out. He was in the throws of a nightmare. His voice, despite my inability to understand the words, was filled with anxiety and panic. At first, I moved slightly away from him and I paused for a moment to consider whether it was best to wake him. In that pause, he began to twist and turn in the bed, shaking his head, and the words became simple and understandable -- "No, no, no......ugh, ugh, no, no. I said no, NO, NO!"

I had to wake him. I reached out, touched his shoulder, which was drenched in panic-induced sweat. When he did not wake immediately, I firmed up my grip and called out his name, quietly at first and then louder. After a few moments, he calmed down and I paused in calling his name. In the quiet that followed, Sean turned to me, opened his eyes, and asked me what had happened.

I explained softly that it had appeared that he had had a nightmare and that I had awakened him, because it was the only thing I could think of to do. "Jeez, I'm sorry, Mark," he whispered back. "I didn't hurt you thrashing about, did I?" he asked.

I laughed and replied that I wasn't any worse for the wear. I asked if he wanted to talk about his nightmare. He paused and slowly said no in a voice that convinced me that he didn't want to revisit that particular hell. Then he asked, "If I turn over, will you just hold me -- it will help me calm down and get back to sleep." I said sure and he turned away from me, lying on his side. I drew my body against his behind him. I put my arm around his waist and spread my hand up to his breastbone. He was still damp with sweat and his heart was still slightly racing. I kissed the back of his neck. Gradually, his heartbeat slowed and he fell back asleep.

As I drifted off myself, I thought about what particular demons had been pursuing him in the night. For the first time, I realized that despite his disarming smile, there might be worries and troubles in his own life. I wondered how I could have been so stupid to have thought of him as two-dimensional and just a handsome, self-confident guy. That was the thought I had in my mind as I drifted off to sleep.

At 7:30 AM, my alarm sounded and I rose quickly to shower and shave, leaving Sean in bed, where he had just turned over and fell back to sleep. A half hour later, as I returned to the bedroom, showered, shaved, and towel-wrapped, Sean was still asleep. He looked much more relaxed and serene than he had three hours earlier. For a moment I simply gazed at him, trying hard just to memorize everything about him that I could -- the shape of his calf and thigh, the curve of his butt, and even the veins that ran up his arm.

I sat down beside him to wake him and he rolled over on his back. He was hard. Through the sheet that still covered him, I began to stroke his stiff cock. It just got slightly more massive and harder, and I heard Sean slowly sound "Mm.m.m.m.m.m. Oh-h-h-h-h. Yes.s.s.s.s." He had only one eye open and was smiling. I went beneath the sheet and gave him five minutes of wet and sloppy head on his thick, hard pole before he came on his abs. "Now, go clean yourself up," I ordered him, "We tee off in less than 45 minutes!"

"YESSIR!" he shot back with a grin. "What a great bedside manner you have," he added as he went off to the shower.

That final day of golf, we started tied for the lead, but quickly fell behind as two other teams were incredibly hot. At the turn, after the first nine holes, we were already four strokes back and tied with three other groups for fifth place. Although each of Sean and me were playing our regular game, we hadn't gotten hot -- on the golf course that is -- all day. By the twelfth hole, with only six holes left to play, we were still four shots back. I suggested to Sean that we just enjoy the day, which was one of Cape Cod's finest, rather than get frustrated or foolish. Quietly, with some evident disappointment, he agreed. Then, he smiled and said, "Of course, if the putts start falling, I won't complain either." I laughed and just enjoyed his good humor.

On the thirteenth hole, a 180 yard par 3, having relaxed from worrying about the competition, I surprised myself by hitting my four-iron just ten feet beyond the pin. That was all that Sean needed to hit his tee shot stiff to the pin. We both drained our putts and immediately picked up two shots on the leaders. Over the next three holes, Sean though outwardly relaxed, played with a single-minded intensity that actually surprised me. By the final hole we were back in the lead, by a single shot. Being in the last foursome, all we needed was a par to seal the win. But Sean was unstoppable. With me just playing my consistent par-bogey-par-bogey style golf, he birdied the hole and sealed a win by two strokes.

In the clubhouse, we accepted the hearty congratulations of the other golfers, though I did hear some mutterings about the "ringer" and "sandbagger" that I must have brought with me to have won the tournament. Sean and I didn't care. We bought drinks for everyone at the bar and toasted our own good fortune. Celebrate, we did. Each of us had perhaps a little too much to drink in that celebration.

Around 5:30 PM, after five rounds at the bar, we made our way back to my condo. I knew that we should be heading back to Boston, but somehow, I just didn't want to face the crush of off-Cape traffic that would then be at its worst. Sean began packing his things and I stripped the bed we had slept in and put the sheets in the washing machine. By the time I had put the sheets onto wash, Sean had finished packing and was sitting on the bare mattress in a polo shirt and blue shorts.

As I came back into the bedroom, Sean started to giggle and laugh. He was feeling no pain. He laid back on the mattress and continued to laugh. "I can't believe we did it! I can't believe we did it! I can't believe we did it!" he giggled as his laughter shook the bed. I began to laugh, too. It was amazing. We had won the whole thing. I sat down beside Sean and laughed with him. "Victory is ever so sweet," I offered. Then I placed my hand on the inside of his knee and slid it up his thigh, inside his shorts. He stopped laughing and murmured "Hm.m.m.m. Mm.m.m.m. How long do we have before that washer is finished?"

"30 minutes, I guess," I said.

"Good," Sean sighed. Then for the next half hour he made love to me, touching me, kissing me, and nibbling on every part of me. I came during the rinse cycle and then stroked Sean until he came during the final spin cycle. That night, on the drive home, as we both sobered up in the off-Cape traffic, Sean told me that the weekend had been perfect. He also confessed that he was planning to leave our company to take a job in Portland, Maine.

A few weeks later, he was gone. We stay in touch, though. This year, he has asked me to come up to Maine for a tournament at his new course in Maine. I accepted. Who knows, maybe, we'll get just as lucky and hot as last year. And we might do well in the tournament, too.

(c) ByMarkBost. Posted with permission. Again, if you have comments or suggestions, please feel free to e-mail me at ByMarkBost@aol.com.