Gay Erotic Stories

Chapter Seven – Don’t Let Go Dave and I spent the following weekend making up for our ‘annus horribilis’, exploring each other’s mind and body, and generally fucking ourselves into exhaustion. Being with him was just so wonderful that I didn’t want to share him with anyone, but Neil’s comment kept sticking in my mind. If we were going to build a real relationship, we had to interact with other people, get to know each other’s friends and be part of the real world outside my bedroom. Two weeks later came our chance. Neil was hosting a barbecue at his home, and his invitation arrived, pointedly addressed to ‘Mike and Dave’. I showed it to Dave, who grinned, and said, “yes” straight away. I don’t know who was more nervous as the day approached, Dave or myself. My friends can sometimes be a bit overbearing, especially in a group, and I was concerned they might ‘gang up’ on him. For his part, Dave was determined to make a good impression. “Just be yourself,” I kept assuring him. “If they don’t like you the way you really are, then fuck ‘em. I happen to think you’re the best there is.” The afternoon was actually a raging success from our point of view. Apart from a few comments which got us both blushing when we arrived – “so you really do exist”, “no wonder Mike’s been hiding you away”, “what are you doing later, handsome?” – Dave fell right into place with my friends. He overcame his nervousness, and just let his naturally great personality do all the work. Not only was I delighted to see how well he got along with my mates, I started to feel a real pride, a glow inside. He was an instant hit, very popular and I basked in the reflected glory of being his partner. Several of my friends managed to draw me aside at different times during the afternoon to tell me how much they liked him, and to congratulate me on having finally found someone so nice. It seemed as though for much of the day we were kept away from each other, people often drawing one or other of us aside for whispered remarks which kept us both amused if somewhat exasperated by our enforced separation. At one stage, Rob, one of my closer friends, spied me alone as I fetched drinks for Dave and myself and made a beeline for me. He was a huge fan of old musicals, and I sensed a line even before he reached me. “Marry him the moment he asks you!” he declared as he grabbed my elbow. I laughed out loud. “I’m not Mame!” I said. “Maybe not, but he sure is a Beauregard Burnside. For gawd’s sake, don’t let him get away!” I chuckled as I escaped from Rob’s clutches and made my way back to Dave’s side. As I approached him, I took the time to drink in the view of his body, as he dominated the conversation around him. I wasn’t quite ready to marry him just yet, but the thought wasn’t entirely unpleasant either, I mused. On the trip home after the barbecue, Dave held my hand in his, smiling broadly. “Thank you,” he whispered. I looked at him in surprise. “No need to thank me – it was you who made the huge impression!” “Maybe, but they’re your friends, and I’m so happy that you let me meet them.” “It’s me who should be thanking you,” I replied. “For still wanting to be around after you’ve met the crowd I hang out with!” He laughed. “They’re not that bad. In fact, I like a lot of them very much, especially the ones you are obviously closer to.” There was something in his tone which rang alarm bells. “Did someone say something to upset you?” “Not really,” he said slowly. “But one of the guys there did try to pick me up, asked me to meet him tomorrow.” “What!?” I blurted out, my old insecurity coming to the surface. “Who?” “Don’t be upset,” Dave reassured me. “I won’t say who, but I know he was the date of someone else at the party, and that guy wasn’t one of your close friends. I told him that the only way I would be interested in him was if he were to have a total makeover of his face, body and manners, so that he was exactly like you, except that if he did he wouldn’t have asked what he did. And then I told him that until then, he could just go away and fall off the planet, and that if he didn’t fall soon, I’d push him!” I sat for a moment, mouth agape, and then started to laugh. When I quieted down, I rested my head against his shoulder, snuggling into him and feeling the warmth of his body against mine. “That’s my man!” I whispered. “Hmm, I like the sound of that…” he mused. I thought again of Rob’s words. Would Dave ever ask me to marry him? Would I have the courage to accept? ***** Dave and I soon became acknowledged and accepted as a couple amongst my circle of friends. We often found ourselves invited along to dinner parties, barbecues, theatre evenings, and he fell into place as though he had always been part of the group. I always felt so happy and so proud when we were out together, and he was always so comfortable, enjoying the things that I liked. I also got to meet his friends – a much smaller, tighter group than mine. There were only really about six people whom Dave called his friends, but they were such bright, warm people that I took to them instantly, enjoying the contact we had and the long deep discussions on just about any topic you could pick. They challenged my ideas without mocking me, and I looked forward to our meetings. One night Dave commented as we lay in bed, recovering from a long and sensual coupling that he was beginning to think his friends liked me better than they liked him. I looked up at him, both worried and surprised, to find that he was grinning, and not at all upset. I dropped back into his arms again, feeling so comfortable and happy I couldn’t imagine being without him. We spent every weekend together, sometimes at his home, sometimes at mine. During the week, we often met for dinner or a drink after work, and although we usually ended up going our separate ways so as to be bright for work the following day, it wasn’t unusual for us to stay over either. More than once I wondered what it would be like if we were together permanently, but there was still the nagging doubt, the inability to take that step, deep down inside. I never raised the subject, and neither did he. ***** It was almost five months since Dave and I had gotten back together, and we were spending almost all our free time together. It wasn’t something we’d planned, but somehow we’d gotten to the point where 5 or 6 nights out of 7 we were either at my place or his, and no longer did either of us get out of bed to trek home after an evening of sexual bliss. More from convenience than planning, we had ended up with a store of clothes at each other’s homes, to the point where we each had a double set of razors and toothbrushes, one at my flat and one at his. Of course, the down side to our arrangement was that you could almost guarantee that the one shirt you wanted was certain to be wherever you were not exactly at the time you wanted it! I started to wonder why we bothered. Life would be so much easier if we simply lived together, in one place, all the time. No more deciding whose flat we were going to tonight, no more agonising over missing clothes, no need to manage double lots of laundry each week. Yet despite the inconvenience, Dave had never mentioned our moving in together. Both of us whined about the annoyance when something wasn’t where it was needed, but the topic of a shared home wasn’t raised. Tiny questions began to insinuate themselves into my mind. Did he want to share his life with me completely? Why didn’t he discuss the possibility of living together permanently? I had no reason to think there was anyone but me in his life, and I trusted him completely on the occasional nights we weren’t together. It occurred to me that although Dave hadn’t mentioned us living together, neither had I. I could hardly criticize him for his silence on the issue then, could I? Why not just ask him? I agonised over my own feelings. Somewhere deep within me was a tiny voice which told me to leave well enough alone, there was no need to take that next step towards commitment on such a scale when everything was going just fine. And then my tiny doubts roared to the surface and tore me apart. It was a Tuesday night, and I had been asked to work back late. I rang Dave and explained, telling him I’d miss him tonight, and arranged to meet up with him the following evening at his place. “Okay, handsome,” he said easily, but with a tinge of disappointment in his voice. “But ring me when you get home, okay? I won’t be able to sleep until I hear your voice!” “I promise, but it won’t be until late, probably about 11.00!” I smiled into the phone as I hung up. I put my head down that afternoon and immersed myself in the task I’d been set, working on into the evening without a break, determined to finish it off as soon as I could. Around 9.30 I smiled triumphantly as I completed the final report and emailed it to my boss for her attention first thing in the morning. A job well done! I told myself. And I’d finished a good hour earlier than anticipated. I wondered fleetingly if I might yet go over to Dave’s place, but as soon as I did I knew I was too exhausted to spend any quality time with him. Better to just go home and collapse. I’d see him tomorrow anyway, so there was no rush. I wandered out of the building, and got on a bus, which took me up to Taylor Square, from where it was only a few minutes walk home. As I trudged wearily past the myriad restaurants on Oxford Street, I happened to glance into one of the windows only to see Dave at a table with an attractive dark-haired man. I stopped dead in my tracks, my mouth open and my heart racing. It couldn’t be! But it was. He and his companion were just finishing up and getting to their feet. Dave smiled at the other guy, patted him on the back and turned toward the door. I panicked, had to get away. I couldn’t bear meeting them here on the street. I felt faint, dizzy, my mind whirling as I stumbled away quickly. In a fog of blurred vision and emotional storms I managed to make my way to my flat and get inside where I collapsed on the sofa. Dave couldn’t be seeing someone else, could he? But I’d seen him with my own eyes! Yet I’d seen him having dinner with someone, that’s all. But why hadn’t he told me? I’d only spoken to him this morning about working late. Who was this guy he was eating with? I’d met Dave’s friends and he wasn’t one of them. Surely there was a logical explanation. But I couldn’t stop my doubts and my insecurities from painting a picture I didn’t want to see. Finally, I calmed down. There was no point sitting here worrying and fretting when I didn’t have all the information. I had told Dave I would ring him late, and he was expecting my call, so I steeled myself and dialed his number. “Hi there handsome,” came Dave’s voice as soon as the phone was answered. He sounded surprisingly up and cheerful. “Uh, hi,” I replied quietly. “Hey, you sound beat.” “Yeah,” I agreed non-committally. “I feel like I’ve been through the ringer!” “Pity, my man,” he said brightly. “I would have loved to have had you with me tonight, if you didn’t have to work.” I tried to think of something to say to that as my heart sank, but he didn’t give me a chance, going on immediately. “I’ve been up near your place for dinner tonight!” he declared. That really threw me. He was openly admitting it? “Oh?” I said in a trembling voice. “Yep. Had a call late this afternoon from my cousin. He’s in town from Perth for a conference, and wanted to catch up. I almost rang you, but remembered you were working overtime, so he had to be content with me telling him all about you instead of actually meeting you. We had dinner at a restaurant just around the corner from your flat. Now he says we have to try to get over there so he can meet you in person, see if you’re really as terrific as I claim!” Relief flooded over me, bringing a wave of guilt with it. I was so happy I almost cried. How could I have doubted him? I began to laugh with the sudden disappearance of the tension that had built up in me over the last hour. “Hey,” Dave asked, concern in his voice. “What’s so funny?” “Nothing,” I said between gasps for breath. “I’ll explain later.” “Okay…” he sounded unsure. “You must be more exhausted than I thought. Get some sleep, handsome, and I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?” “Yep,” I declared. “Tomorrow, at your place, right?” “Right. Goodnight.” “Goodnight, stud,” I said happily as I replaced the receiver on its cradle. Tired as I was, I didn’t get much sleep that night. I lay awake thinking about what had happened, analyzing my feelings, my irrational assumption that Dave was seeing someone else, my over-reaction to his having dinner with another man, my relief at the truth. I thought long about how I had been feeling lately, asked myself some serious questions about my own thoughts and needs. Sometime in the early hours of the morning, as I tossed and turned in bed alone, I was hit with a sudden flash of inspiration. Like a revelation, I suddenly saw very clearly what I wanted, what I needed. How could I have been so stupid or so blind? It was time to make things right! The next day, I took off from work early and made a few purchases at one of the convenience stores near my flat, then grabbed some clothes and headed for Dave’s place, getting there a good half hour before he was due home. I let myself in with my key, set myself up the way I wanted, and waited for him to arrive. A key in the lock alerted me that my man was home, and I sat up, looking at the door with a grin on my face as I waited for his reaction. Dave walked into the living room, and stopped as soon as he saw me, his jaw falling open. I sat as seductively as I could, sprawled out across his sofa, stark naked except for a large red bow tied around my neck. In my hand, which I held out toward him, was a single, long-stemmed red rose, and on the table beside me were two glasses of champagne, strawberries floating in the bubbling drinks. “Welcome home,” I said quietly, licking my lips as I did. His mouth closed slowly and a grin spread across his face, as I noticed his pants begin to tent outward at the front. “What did I do to deserve this?” he asked, still uncertain. “Nothing and everything,” I said. “You deserve it because you’re you. And I should have given you what I’m offering now a long while ago.” “And what exactly are you offering, as if I couldn’t guess?” he asked. “Myself! All of me. I realised yesterday that the only way I can be truly happy is to give myself to you completely, so here I am!” His smile turned from one of lust to one of pure joy. He leaned forward and accepted the rose I was still holding out to him, and then leaned forward to kiss me gently. As he pulled back again, I saw tears in his eyes, tears of joy. I stood up, moving to him and together we held our glasses, softly tapping them together and draining the delicious contents. “Why don’t you get more comfortable?” I asked softly, looking at his clothes. “Why don’t you come and help me?” he said, his eyes sparkling as he led me to the bedroom. I lay on the bed and watched as he stripped his clothing away, enjoyed the view as his magnificent body was revealed to me once again. His proud cock stood out and up from his pelvis, throbbing and rigid, a drop of pre-cum already forming at his slit. He sat beside my prone form, running his fingers sensuously all over my body, plucking at my nipples and scraping softly along the aching shaft of my dick. “I think it’s about time I opened my present,” he whispered. I grinned at the double meaning of his words as he settled himself between my legs and gently tugged at the bow around my neck until the flimsy material fell away. And then he was upon me, devouring me with his eyes and his lips, kissing me all over and covering my body with his own. Thrills of delight rocketed through me at his every touch, and I whimpered quietly with the joy of him against me. With a sense of controlled urgency Dave nudged my legs apart with his knees, and I willingly opened myself to him as he leaned forward and into me. His rampant weapon throbbed and leaked as he did, and our cocks jousted for a moment as he covered me with his body before lifting again to apply some lubricant quickly, his eyes never leaving mine. As he edged forward once again, I lifted my knees and wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him into me and offering up my puckering hole to his powerful prong. His face remained locked on mine, his hands continued exploring my chest and abdomen as I felt the solidity of his cockhead make contact with the soft muscle of my arse. He slid into me slowly but easily. To say I didn’t feel him enter would be a lie, but there was no pain, no discomfort even. It was if my body was empty, hollow, and his thick cock made it complete. I gasped as he sank into me, coming to rest against my butt as he buried himself fully, but the gasp was one of amazed fulfillment, of total completeness, rather than of surprise or pain. It felt so right, he felt so right, piercing my sphincter with his dagger of masculinity. Almost at once, Dave began to pull back, steady himself, and drive back into me again. His eyes were wide with delight as his cock probed into my hot wet cavern, plumbing my depths and filling my gut with its fiery steel. He quickly fell into a rhythm, leaning over and against me, thrusting in and retreating as my ring of muscle gripped at him, milking his tube with each motion. A sensual cadence of jabbing and withdrawal enveloped us as we fucked in an easy flowing union of our bodies. For more than an hour we remained locked together, fucking each other. My senses went into absolute ecstasy at the prolonged massaging of my prostate and the powerful driving of his very masculinity into my gut. Several times I felt myself approaching the point of no return, but a warning whimper from me saw Dave slow down and rest while my ardour subsided. He too, built up to the edge, his pounding into me increasing in speed and intensity before he would suddenly stop, and hold himself completely still, his throbbing sword resting in the warm moist envelope of my rectum. At those times I was in paradise, just lying there open to him and filled with him, our eyes locked together and our bodies totally motionless as the urges receded temporarily. At one point my mind began to drift. Physically, I was wrapped around Dave’s glorious body, my arms around his torso, my legs around his waist and my arse around his pistoning rod. Yet my mind seemed detached, almost as if it were floating free of my body. I imagined I was above us, floating, looking down at the two writhing bodies locked in the most intimate embrace. And to my mind’s eye we were perfection, the ultimate coupling of two beings, forming a single entity of blissful, passionate union. Emotionally, I felt like weeping with joy, while physically, I was so excited and aroused my body ached with sensual delight. Suddenly a sense of comprehension filled me, and as my mind returned to the trembling writhing power of our fuck, I became one again, and knew I would become one with Dave. I held him even tighter, bucking and humping at him as he rammed himself into me, revelled in the force of his thrusting weapon into my hole. I surrendered, to the joy of our sex, and to him. My body surrendered completely to the indescribable pleasure of his penetration, and my mind surrendered all doubts and uncertainties to the knowledge that I wanted him totally. And as I did, I claimed him for my own. With that knowledge, I shuddered again, and drew him harder to me, hissing encouragements to Dave, to my lover. I gripped at him with my arse and pulled him into me with my legs. His fucking increased in power as he drove himself deeper and deeper into me, harder and faster at my urging as he gave himself over to the natural instincts of a virile rutting male. I felt the tide of passion rise up within me, the waves of excitement starting at my arse and rolling through the rest of my body. I held back as long as I could while I held tightly to my man, and then I was there. Unable to control or prevent it, even if I had wanted to, my nuts boiled and my cock swelled as orgasm hit me. Load upon load of my juice pumped from my twitching prick, filling the narrow space between our bodies as I gasped and shuddered into my peak of abandonment. And in the midst of my climax my eyes flew open to find Dave leaning into me, his own eyes locked on mine, his body shaken with trembling release. As he rocked with explosion, he kept holding me, his hands on my chest and his eyes on my face. He continued to pump his beautiful cock into my body as he came, but the long steady strokes of his fucking were now replaced by tremorous jabs and with each inward hammer a spasm ran through him and into me. I swore I could feel the heat of his seed as he pumped his very essence into me. Even through the writhing ecstasy of my own fulfillment, I accepted his gift and possessed him, body and soul. We lay there, his weight on me but not a burden, a delight. I flexed the muscles of my sphincter, and felt his thick solidity still wedged within me, and smiled. The remnants of my ejaculation provided a gooey slime which joined us and our eyes were only centimetres apart as I stared at him, feeling myself lost in absolute contentment with him there, on top of me and inside me. “Dave,” I murmured, a whispering softness that only he could have heard. “I…” His eyes opened wide, and pierced my soul, a question and a hope written on his face. “I love you.” My heart didn’t race; my voice didn’t quiver. I knew what I was saying and I meant it, more certain of this than of anything before in my life. He looked at me, and instead of surprise, or revelation, I saw satisfaction. “I know,” he said. “I’ve just been waiting for you to know it too. And I love you.” I searched my thoughts, searched my heart, and I realised that he was right. With a happy smile of recognition, I whispered back, “I know!” To be continued… Comments, complaints or compliments? Email me at iainlthr@hotmail.com