Gay Erotic Stories

It was a carnival the night we met. An absolute carnival. I was sitting in the noisy cafe at the corner table--the one I usually sat at--drinking the same thing I always drank. Taza's: the coffee shop is famous for attracting all kinds of people. There's Ratt--a teenager with dirty blond hair and enormous eyes. He is a skater who has always lived between the street and the charity of his friends--he was abandoned when he was little. There's David, who sits quietly watching the noise. His bright eyes don't miss a thing. There's John, who everyone knows, goes through phases--becoming some character or another--the charade sometimes lasting for months at a shot. There's Ray, who introduces himself to strangers as the World's Biggest Asshole. And me? I guess I come here to escape the hum-drum of a normal world. Anyway, that's off the subject. As I was saying, it was a carnival the night we met. I might have missed him in all the noise and confusion of talking and laughing. He walked in, and I noticed that he didn't look like he knew anyone. After ordering, he sat by himself at a corner table. I sized him up carefully. He seemed tall--6'1 or 6'2 perhaps. He had sandy-blond hair that fell into his face, but was otherwise short. I couldn't quite tell his eye-color. He seemed lost in his own world and I thought, as I turned back to the conversation around me, that he looked vaguely familiar. Throughout the evening, I would glance over at him, and a couple times, he seemed to be looking at me. It wasn't until I got up for a refill that we met. It wasn't planned--it just happened, like most of the good things in my life. He and I found ourselves standing at the counter together. From a distance he had been good looking, but at close range--he was positively breathtaking. He stood a good head taller than me. He had a boyish face and--when I shot a side glance at him--I caught a radiant smile. I swallowed, realizing I was completely tongue-tied--a novel feeling. As I turned to leave I found myself face to face with him. He smiled and stuck out his hand. "Hey!" he said flashing me a quick smile, "Aren't you in the same photo class as me?" I suddenly realized where I had seen him before. "Yeah! I was wondering why you looked so familiar." We shook hands firmly. I hoped my voice would not betray me. "I saw some of your work on display--you've got a hell of a lot of talent!" "Really? Thanks! I appreciate the complement!" I was genuinely flattered. I looked up. His eyes were a deep blue. I almost imagined affection, before I mentally stopped myself. "If you aren't busy--come over to my table, I'd like to get to know you better!" His honesty threw me off guard. The next two hours flew. We talked about everything. He would watch me--his eyes bright--and when he laughed, it was hard not to join in. I found myself tumbling head-over-heels for him. I immediately realized that he was a rare and beautiful person. The street was empty when we stepped out onto the summer-evening air. He walked beside me toward my car, his hands stuck in his jeans pockets. When we reached the car, both of us seemed reluctant to say goodbye. He looked up. "I love the stars." he said quietly. I watched him standing across from me, his hands in his pockets--hair falling in his eyes. He was lost in his own world again. "You think a lot don't you?" I asked. He brushed a loose strand of hair from his eyes. "Yeah. People say I live in my own world a lot." I smiled at the comment. "You going to be around tomorrow?" I asked. I did not want to loose him especially with summer vacation beginning. "No." He said vaguely. "Actually I am heading out." "Oh." My heart fell. "But I do have your number--I'll give you a call." I drove home--in silence--replaying the entire evening in my mind. Back in my apartment, I stripped quickly and fell into bed. I thought I'd be asleep in minutes, but for some reason I couldn't get comfortable. I had almost convinced myself that perhaps I needed to jack-off to relax--when the phone rang. "Who the hell could be calling me at this hour?" I wondered. I recognized his voice instantly. "Hey, this is Bryan. Listen, I'm sorry to call you so late, but I've been thinking." "Yeah?" I felt my heart skip a beat. " What are you doing this summer?" "This summer?" I sat up and rubbed my eyes. He plunged on. "Yeah--cause if you're not doing anything, you could. . ." He hesitated. "Actually it was just an off the wall thought--probably stupid anyway. . ." He grew silent. "Could what, Bryan?" I rejoined gently. "Well I'm going on a road-trip and I need someone to go along. Someone spontaneous, uninhibited, off the wall. . ." I heard him take a deep breath, ". . .like you." "How long?" "All summer--to Chile and back" "Just you and me?" "Uh huh." "And you leave tomorrow?" "Tomorrow night, yes." I took a deep breath and let it out, puffing slowly through my cheeks. I wanted to, but I wasn't sure of where this would lead. Hell, I hardly knew him. Financially and socially this was a big commitment. "You aren't going to bring a girlfriend or something?" I asked. "Don't have one." "Ah, so you're going to find one then." I couldn't resist the stab. His laugh was genuine. "No, actually, this is kind of a photography and. . .um. . .pleasure trip." "Well, I'll tell you what. I'll make you a deal. You postpone leaving 'till Thursday morning, and I will arrange my affairs, and come along. Lucky for you my passport is still valid!" "Great!" He was almost breathless. "I'll meet you at 7:00 Thursday morning--at the pier at San Clemente beach--in the parking lot." I didn't see him before then, though there were a lot of phone calls. When I did see him Thursday morning, it was in the gentle light of a California predawn. It was going to be a beautiful day. I stood watching the surfers and breathing the salt air. I had arrived first. I was so lost in my own thoughts that his voice startled me. He was gazing out over the ocean--hugging his arms. His eyes were more beautiful that I had remembered. He flashed me his brilliant smile. "Ready?" We drove away as the sun began to lift over the hills. I will never forget the feeling. The complete freedom. No School. No Boss. No Appointments--just the hum of tires and pavement running for miles in front of us. We passed through sleepy San Clemente. Our windows were down. Bryan turned, hair blowing across his eyes. "I'm glad you decided to come." He smiled. I had to look away for a second. "I'm glad I came, Bryan." There was a comfortable length of silence. Then: "Look in the glove compartment. There's a map. You can be my navigator." I looked up at him. "Tonight we'll most likely be in the middle of a desert. I was thinking we'd just sleep in the back of the truck--that is if you don't mind," he added hastily. "Not at all." I answered absently. We stopped late that afternoon and found ourselves in the middle of a wide open desert, just like Bryan had said. No company but tumbleweed, scrub-brush, and sand. The sun threw long copper shadows of the Joshua Trees across the ground. After the rush of wind and the rattling of the narrow road, the silence was deafening. My ears were ringing. Bryan got out and walked around to the back. I watched him in the rearview mirror--standing in the lengthening shadows--his head bent over a stubborn knot of rope. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the seat. It was growing dark. I was aware of the wind whistling through the brush and the slight bounce of the truck as Bryan pulled and tugged. I knew I was falling in love. I replayed the events of the day. The way he had laughed. The little things he did that were so trivial--but so captivating. Like the way he would sing with commercials, or the way he would buy me a soda--without asking. Or the way I would catch him looking at me. Deep down I was afraid I may not be able to follow through with this. I was afraid he might be able to read my soul--through my eyes--and might not understand the monster I lived under. I was afraid I might be loving something I could never have. The window was down, and I suddenly was aware of a presence beside me. When I opened my eyes, I saw Bryan's face in it. He was looking at me--his eyes were that same unnerving blue. He smiled, reached out and deftly--gently tousled my hair. "Come give me a hand pal." And before I could react, he had moved to the back of the truck again. I got out. We unloaded and set up camp. By the time the sun had dropped, burning into the desert, we had emptied the truck bed of everything but our sleeping bags. I sat beside Bryan watching the final rays of sunlight retract across the ground. The stars were coming out, and the desert seemed to be on fire. "First star." Said Bryan pointing. I nodded mutely. "Do you wish on stars?" he asked, turning toward me? "I do--sometimes" I didn't tell him I had wished on this star before he had even pointed it out. I felt peace descending on our little world. Bryan was quiet for a minute. Then he looked at me, and in the growing darkness, I could not read the expression on his face. "So, really, why did you decide to come with me?" "What do you mean?" "Well," he paused, "I guess I am just wondering, cause not a lot of people are this spontaneous." "So being spontaneous is a bad thing?" I teased. "Oh no, not at all--I admire that in you," he said seriously, "Among other things." I felt myself taking a quick breath. But all I said was: "I'm flattered." He laughed. "Like what?" I asked. Even in the dark I could see the impish light in his eyes. He seemed not to hear me for a second. "I guess. . ." he said at last, "I admire your photography for one." "What about it?" "Well you care about making your work expressive--you seem very devoted." "In all aspects, Bryan," I nodded, "In all aspects--friendships included." I hoped he would understand. He seemed to. "Me too," he said quietly, "friendships included." There is something about being outside that makes it hard to say awake past dark. Before long I realized I was dozing off in my conversation. I mentioned this to Bryan, who immediately apologized for keeping me awake. "You don't mind sleeping in the back of the truck next to me do you?" He asked? "No." I was too tired to use two words were one would do. "Okay, well, good night, pal, I'll be along in a bit--our sleeping bags are exactly alike by the way, so yours is on the right." I nodded. Bryan had laid out my sleeping bag beside his. Mentally I thanked him as I crawled in. The desert was considerably cooler at night, and I was thankful for the warm covers. I was barely awake when I felt Bryan slip into his sleeping bag beside me. "G'night" I mumbled. "Good night, glad you're here." He whispered. And as I drifted off, it vaguely crossed my mind that--even if I couldn't fall asleep in his arms--just having him strong and warm beside me might just be enough. Sometime in the gray half-light of the moon, I woke up. I looked at my watch. It was 2:34. Bryan was sound asleep beside me. I rolled over. I realized we were breathing in unison. His face as buried in his pillow--his hair tousled occasionally by the breeze that blew over the truck. I moved a little closer to him--until my face was on his pillow. His soft breathing was warm across my cheek. "I can't go to sleep like this. . ." I thought, "If Bryan wakes up, he'll kill me." Night dulls the senses, and I knew I would wonder in the morning at my bold stupidity of rolling over so close--but before the thought could fully materialize, I had gone to sleep again. I woke up early the next morning. The sky was turning color, a few stars were still out, and I could hear a bird somewhere just beginning to wake up. The first thing I realized was a feeling of incredible warmth. I was still on Bryan's pillow. Slowly it came to my senses--Bryan had wrapped an arm around me, and had pulled me against him. I realized he had buried his face in my neck. I froze, not quite daring to breath. I had straight friends who did things in their sleep they would never do if they had been fully awake, but I had never felt about them, what I felt for Bryan. There was no deep even breathing from him. Then his arms tightened ever so slightly, and he nestled his face deeper into my neck. "You awake?" His voice was startlingly warm and close. I was beyond words. I just nodded. He didn't move. "I love the stars out here." "Yeah." I didn't quite know what to say. "What were you dreaming about?" His voice was exceptionally gentle. I felt the breeze blow across us--his hair brushing my face. "Why?" "You were crying." "I was?" I couldn't remember what I was dreaming about. I felt him nod. "I have a confession," he said. I waited--feeling his warmth radiating through me. He plunged on. "When me met in the coffee shop, I fell in love with you--and since then it has only grown stronger." He fell silent. I rolled over--pulling out from under his arm. I felt him stiffen. I slipped out of my bag--sliding off the end of the truck. The sand was cold under my feet. I took a few steps away. I turned once and saw him sitting--his face still soft with sleep--watching me. I breathed hard trying to absorb all the information I had received. Now that I had everything I had longed for, I was afraid. The fear scared me more than anything. How many people had he told those words to? I felt a presence behind me. I turned. He was standing a few feet apart, hugging his arms across his chest--tousled in bare feet and a T-shirt. He turned toward me--his sweet eyes were starting to cloud over with tears. He spread his hands helplessly. "I'm sorry..." he said softly. "I shouldn't have---" I turned toward him, and a few seconds later I was wrapped in his warmth. I buried my face in his T-shirt, his arms tightened around me. Looking up, I realized now why his eyes would turn so soft whenever he looked at me. He reached up and brushed a tear from his cheek. His smile was beautiful. He brushed the hair out my eyes and planted a gentle kiss between my eyebrows. He is asleep against me now--naked and warm. I lie awake--looking at the stars--feeling his body against mine. Tomorrow we start the long journey back. I love Bryan more every day. Every part of him. I lean over and kiss him gently on his sleeping lips. I snuggle against his warmth--and as I drift off to sleep, I think of the night we met, of the carnival in the coffee shop that brought us together. What do you think? Drop me a line! I answer every e-mail stonewheel@hotmail.com