Gay Erotic Stories

Now that I’m over thirty and more mature, I look back on my younger days and chuckle when I think about what a horny puppy I was. I knew I was gay from the age of thirteen, my first masturbation fantasies involving classmates as well as older male figures in my life on whom I had crushes. I remember having a wicked crush on my 9th grade gym teacher, Mr. Allen. He was also the high school football coach and had the body of a former football jock himself. I spent many nights wanking off and thinking about his mid thirty-something hard, rugged body and what I would do if I had just one night with him in bed...Of course this fantasy could never come true, and I didn¹t have my first sexual experience until four years later. I was 18 and had just graduated from high school. I had spent the previous four years masturbating a LOT, dreaming about having sex with another man. The opportunity never came- I was too shy, too scared of my own budding sexuality to ever act on it, even if I had known how. Of course the opportunity to do it with girls in high school always came up- most of my friends had lost their virginity by tenth grade. Needless to say, I had no interest whatsoever in any of the girls at my high school, or any girls period. I was content to pleasure myself at night before going to sleep, my thoughts on various older classmates: the quarterback of the football team, Mr. Allen, the scoutmaster of my Boy Scout Troop.. I had gotten into an above-average “Baby Ivy League” college in rural Pennsylvania. I spent that summer between high school graduation and my freshman year at college in Manhattan. My hometown was in suburban New Jersey, about one half hour from the city. My older sister Cheryl lived in Manhattan in a one-bedroom apartment. She was spending the summer living with her boyfriend in Brooklyn and suggested that I live in her apartment before going away to school. The rent was paid for, and my parents thought it was a good idea too, since it would help “prepare” me for living on my own at college. I was both scared and excited at the idea- living in the big city was a first for me, on the other hand maybe I’d finally have my “first time” that I’d been so anxiously waiting for. My sister lived in a third floor walk-up in a brownstone on the Upper East Side. It was a small but cozy building, and her one bedroom was comfortable. I spent the first few weeks there learning how to live on my own- buying my own groceries, doing my laundry, etc. with plenty of phone calls from my Mom to make sure I was alright. My sister never came over- she called once or twice to make sure I hadn¹t burned the place down, but other than that I was on my own. I didn’t have the courage to go into a gay bar, and I didn’t even know where any were. After the third week of living on my own I was hornier than I had ever felt in my life, but had accepted the fact that I’d probably have to wait for college to get any action. As it turned out, the chance for me to lose my virginity came in a very unexpected way. One Saturday morning in early July, I was awakened by a knock on the door at about 9:00. I was used to sleeping in until about 11, so I was surprised and still half-asleep as I stumbled to the door. I opened it without even asking who was there, and immediately I felt a lump in my throat and the familiar quivering in my stomach that I felt when I was saw a man on TV or on the street who turned me on. Standing in the hall was this guy, about 6’2”, older, maybe in his mid-forties, dark, Italian-looking, with a mustache and five o¹clock shadow, towering over me. He was wearing a “wife beater” white tank top, which very tightly clung to his muscular torso. His nipples stuck out like sharp points, his chest under the tank top was slightly hairy. He was wearing tight dark blue janitor pants, no belt, and heavy work boots. All I saw though my sleepy daze were big biceps, hairy forearms, cannon-ball shoulders bulging with veins, a couple of gold chains and a crucifix. A scent of musky man-smell wafted towards me as he spoke, and I finally looked up into his rugged face and saw him smiling at me. “Looks like I woke you up,” he grinned as he spoke, glancing down at my crotch. I looked down and in embarrassment realized I was only wearing a pair of white briefs, which at the moment were sporting a very large morning erection. I quickly put my hands down to cover it and felt myself blush as I stammered, “Yeah I was still asleep.” ”My name is Angelo, I’m the Super. I noticed you were coming in and out of the building. Are you staying in this apartment?” he inquired. I tried to keep my eyes off the big bulge in his crotch, straining against his uniform pants, as I explained that my sister was letting me stay in her apartment for the summer. ”Ok, I just wanted to make sure. Good to meet you!”. He shook my hand hard, forcing me to expose my erection again. It was one of those times you wish and hope there were some way to kill an erection FAST. He didn’t seem to care, though. He gave me his number and told me to call him (he lived on the first floor) if anything went wrong in the apartment. I thanked him and started to close the door. As he walked back down the hall, the clunk, clunk, clunk of his boots making my erection even harder. I watched him from behind. He had a nice bubble butt that looked awesome wrapped in the thin cotton uniform pants, and I noticed he was balding a little which turned me on even more. After I closed the door, I ran back to bed and immediately had a jack-off session, fantasizing about my new crush, “Angelo”. The next few days, I saw Angelo all the time, when I was coming in and out of the building he always seemed to be around: on the front steps sweeping, in the hallway mopping, or fixing a light fixture or a tenant’s lock. Every time I saw him he was wearing the same “uniform”--tight custodian pants that showed off his beautiful thick thighs and perfect bubble butt, tight white tank top that was practically painted on to his big pecs and flat tight abs, and big dirty boots. Now that he knew who I was, he always said “hi” and usually I blushed, murmured a “hi”, and quickly moved past him, scared that I’d get hard. I always did get hard, but I don¹t think he ever noticed. I spent nights thinking about ways to get him to come up to the apt. to fix something. I even considered “clogging” my sink or somehow breaking a light fixture so I could call him up. The idea of it made me too nervous, though, and I was terrified he’d find out a “fag” was drooling over him. One afternoon, though, a situation came up that gave me a reason to call Angelo. My bathtub would fill with water while I took a shower--the drain obviously was clogged up. I could have gone out and gotten some Drano, but I thought, with a grin, why not let the Super do his job! I got Angelo’s number and dialed and then hung up. My hands were shaking! I was so excited, yet scared. After a few minutes I took a deep breath and dialed again, determined to go through with this. Immediately he answered, with a deep, gruff “Hello?” “Angelo?” I asked, although I knew it was him. “Yeah?”, his voice was so deep and strong I already had a boner. “This Brian in 3-D. Remember me?” He knew who I was right away and his tone became instantly friendlier. I explained that the drain in my tub was clogged and could he come up and take a look. He told me to give him about 20 minutes and he’d be by. When I hung up the phone my stomach had butterflies dancing in it. I was excited to know that I’d have the chance to watch this big swarthy hunk Italian guy working in my bathroom in his sweaty tank top! Angelo arrived about 10 minutes later. I was in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, barefoot. He was wearing the usual getup of tank top and workpants. I had put on one of my jockstraps under my jeans, in an effort to “control” the inevitable boner I would pop when I saw him. Sure enough, I felt my cock spring to life and strain against the pouch of my strap when I opened the door and drank Angelo up with my eyes. At least I knew I wouldn’t be making a tent of my pants with my erection. Angelo came in with a toolbox and headed for the bathroom. I sat on the toilet seat and watched him as he sat on the edge of the tub and work on the drain. We made small talk as he snaked a long tool down the drain. Every once in a while he’d spread his legs wide as he strained over the drain. His crotch just inches away from me! I swallowed hard as I gazed at the big basket that strained in his tight pants. God how I wanted to just get my face in there and go to work! Over the next 15 minutes I found out that Angelo was 45 (older than I had thought), had come to this country from Italy 20 years before (that explained the slight accent), had a wife and 3 teenaged kids who lived in Brooklyn. Angelo lived in my building during the week, and spent the weekends with his family in Brooklyn. The idea that this big swarthy man was married with kids somehow turned me on even more. I barely answered him as he spoke, I just sort of murmured, “uh huh”, as he told me about the various tenants’ apartments and the work he was doing in them. I was crazy horny, and the bulge in my jock strap was aching to get free. Suddenly, he was finished, standing up and walking out of the bathroom. Without even a second thought I asked him if he¹d like to relax and have a beer before he left. My own words surprised me, but I wanted as much time to look at him as I could get. He said, “Sure” and went into the living room and sat on the couch as I went to the fridge to get a couple of beers. As I was popping the tops on our beers I heard a loud, deep chuckle come from the living room. I carried the two beers into the living and almost dropped them when I saw what Angelo was doing. He was sitting on the couch, leafing through one of my “Honcho” magazines that I had carelessly left lying on the coffee table. I had completely forgotten to hide them before he had come up to the apt. ”Uh, those are, um…” I mumbled, not knowing what to say. As he turned the magazine sideways and opened the centerfold he glanced up at me and grinned. “Hey, it’s no problem, guy.” I put down the beers as he continued to leaf through the magazines, full of photos of hot young muscular men nude and partially dressed. Angelo tossed the magazine on the coffee table, picked up his beer, said “Thanks” and started to drain it, staring at me the whole time. “Aren¹t you a little young to be drinking beer?” he asked me. I took a sip of my beer and said, “I’m eighteen, I think that’s old enough.” “Eighteen?” he said. He seemed surprised. “You like looking at pictures of men?” Angelo asked, grinning. I must have turned bright red because he chuckled and grabbed my knee with his big hand and said, “Hey, we Mediterranean men are very open about sex. It doesn’t matter. You’re young and probably very horny.” I gulped and took another sip of beer. “Yeah, you’re right. I like the way those guys look.” I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation with this gorgeous stud, who was sitting inches away from me. Angelo smiled and put his big arms over his head to stretch. I could swear he was flexing his biceps a little, knowing I was watching and liking it. I was afraid and turned on at the same time. “Yeah, well, these guys are pretty good looking.” Angelo said. “I’m happily married with kids but I know a hot looking guy when I see one.” This surprised me- I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Angelo went on, “We Italian men appreciate beauty, whether a man or a woman, it doesn’t matter. The human body can be a beautiful thing.” I couldn’t have agreed more, looking at his gorgeous chest hung with shiny gold chains, covered with a little black hair. Angelo took another swig of beer and asked me, “So have you messed around with a man yet?” I laughed nervously at his question, blushing. He looked right at me: “What? This is a part of growing up, becoming a man, becoming a sexual human being. If that’s what you want, you need to have that experience.” “I don’t know how to find the chance to have that experience”, I said. That sounded awkward, so I said, “I mean, I really want to, but I’m scared to go to the bars.” He just smiled at me, then crossed his arms back behind his head, exposing his delicious armpits and big biceps. “Do you think I’m a handsome guy?” Angelo asked. My head was swimming- I didn’t know where this conversation was going but I was really excited. “God yeah!” I blurted out, a little tipsy from the beer. Angelo laughed, his hard chest shaking. “I think you’re a handsome guy too.” he said. Then he added, “I want to help you ou.” “How?” I asked. Angelo put his hands on my knees and leaned close to me. His face was inches from mine, his masculine scent making me dizzy--it was a combination of armpit odor, the scent of hard work, cheap after shave, and deodorant. “I want to teach you how to make love to a man” he said in a sexy, gravelly, low voice, his dark Italian eyes half closed. I took a breath and swallowed. Before I knew it, his hand was on the back of my head, pulling my lips to his. I loosened my jaw and let his tongue slide into my mouth, tasting of beer. His thick mustache tickled. We sucked each other’s tongues for about 3 minutes before he pulled away. My hands had been on his big strong shoulders, feeling his hard muscles. He stood up, leaving my dizzy with lust. “I have to call my wife and check in with her. I’ll be back up in about 10 minutes,” he said in a low voice. The bulge in his crotch looked even bigger. I just nodded as I let him out. I was so excited. Finally I was going to have my first experience with a man. I decided when he came to the door again I’d greet him wearing nothing but my jockstrap. I slipped out of my jeans, tore the T-shirt off, and looked at myself in my sister’s mirror. I was proud of what I saw- I had played football in high school and I had a lean, completely smooth, boyish but muscular body. I was proud of my 8” cock, and my boy-next-door blond/blue-eyed features. I knew they were in deep contrast to Angelo’s swarthy, older Italian man rugged looks, but that turned me on even more. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. I opened it and Angelo’s eyes ran from my face down my body. He stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him. Immediately he took me in his big arms, I buried my face in his chest, breathing in the delicious scent, my hand grabbing his big biceps. He cupped my sweet boyish ass in his rough callused hands and lifted me, our lips meeting. We hungrily tongued each other as I wrapped my legs around his waist and he carried me into the bedroom. He gave me a good “spank” on the ass and then started caressing my butt and legs as he laid me gently on the bed. “Spread you legs baby” he commanded, and I lay back on the bed and did as he told me, spreading my legs and pushing my bulging pouch up. “Hmmm,” he murmured as he stripped off the tank top, revealing a dark, hairy, muscular chest, his gold chains and crucifix gleaming. His dark eyes looked hungry. He reached out for me and pulled me up into a kneeling position as he stood at the end of the bed. We made out for a while and then his mouth moved to my nipples. I moaned as I sucked and licked them, teasing me, my hands running all over his chest and powerful arms. I reached for his big basket and caressed it though the thin material of his pants. “You want to see what’s in there?” Angelo whispered in my ear as he put his hands in the straps of my jockstrap and fondled my ass. “Yes” I replied and I got off the bed and dropped to my knees, my face in front of that bulge that I had been dreaming about for so long. I unbuttoned the pants and started to unzip his fly, as I looked up and saw Angelo looking down at me, his muscular chest heaving with excitement. I got the fly down and then tugged his pants down to his knees. I had expected Angelo to be naked under those pants, but instead I saw he was wearing a pair of paper-thin white bikini briefs, the kind European men wear. They were almost completely transparent, and I could see his huge dark cock curled up in them like a sleeping giant, semi-erect and growing in the briefs. I felt Angelo’s hand on the back of my head as he pulled my nose and lips into that bulge. I took a deep breath and almost fainted when I smelled that musky man-scent from his crotch. Immediately, I put my tongue to work, determined to drench that bikini bulge with my saliva. I heard a moan from above as I worked, almost instinctively since this was my first time. Soon the bulge had grown so big that I knew the bikini wouldn’t hold it much longer. I tugged the briefs down and Angelo’s huge sausage popped out in my face. I swallowed it immediately, pumping my mouth and throat up and down on it. For a beginner, I must have done a pretty good job, by the way Angelo was whimpering. I took care to swallow the pre-cum that filled my mouth and Angelo seemed to like that even more, and soon he was fucking my mouth in a steady rhythm. After a while I pulled off his cock and got under his crotch, breathing in the heavy man smell and loving every minute of it. Angelo pulled me to my feet and we turned sideways, him behind me, and watched ourselves in the full-length mirror as he reached around and caressed me from my hard nipples to my thighs, my hands on his powerful hairy forearms. The image of this old-enough-to-be-my-father, swarthy, Italian man towering over this skinny, smooth, muscular twinkie-boy, fondling and feeling me up, was almost enough to make me cream in my jockstrap. We tongued each other’s mouths as we looked at ourselves in the mirror, Angelo’s strong hands all over me. His bikini briefs were at his ankles. He stepped out of them and slid my jockstrap off of me. I spent a good 15 minutes exploring Angelo’s hot body with my tongue, Angelo guiding me with his hand on the back of my head. He laid me back on the bed on my back. Before he climbed on top of me he picked up his bikini briefs, bunched them into a ball, and told me to open my mouth. He stuffed them in my mouth like a gag, pulling the waistband over my face almost like a mask, so the crotch area was right against my nose. I could see through the legs holes, and Angelo climbed on top of me. “Am I too heavy?” he asked as he lay his big hairy build on top of me. “No way” I murmured. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his big shoulders. Our cocks rubbed together and he started humping me, his mouth stuck to my left nipple and sucking hard. I breathed in the delicious, musky scent from the crotch of his bikini- a bikini he had been wearing all day, working hard and sweating in. It got even better when Angelo reached up with his left hand and held onto the head board, covering my face with his armpit. Now I was inhaling the musky crotch of his bikini briefs AND the delicious, manly odor of his left armpit. After about three more humps, his cock rubbing against mine and his mouth firmly teasing my nipple, I shot my load, shaking and moaning and breathing in as much of Angelo’s man-scent as I could. Not long after, he also shot, shouting “Oh God!” so loud I was scared the neighbors would hear him. I felt his hot load spray all over my stomach. He pulled the bikini off my face and we lay together for a long time. After showering, we got dressed, had a beer, and Angelo said he had to go. He gave me a deep long kiss before he left, and I thanked him for taking my virginity. He told me I had a lot more to learn. There were all sorts of things he wanted to teach me. I spent the rest of the summer having weekly sessions with Angelo. No one ever found out and we both understood that at the end of the summer our “affair” would be over. But it was all I needed to prepare for college, and I went to school confident and ready for more experiences.