Gay Erotic Stories

Private Club for Men into Serious Leather, meet last Sunday each month’ said the small, classified advert in one of the gay papers, giving an address. My curiosity was aroused immediately. Today was Sunday, the last of the month, wasn’t it? Yep. Just how private, and just how serious? I decided to give the place a visit and see for myself. Determined to show I was ‘into serious leather’, which I was, I dressed in my favourite gear. A solid black metal cockring was slid into place around the base of my cock and balls, with a leather ball separator attached, which pulled my nuts down and apart. Instantly I began to harden. I loved the feeling of the restraint around me, and I knew it always made me look good, in addition to the practical effect of delaying orgasm. Over that I pulled on a tight posing thong of supple shining leather. My bedroom mirror confirmed that it emphasized what I had rather than hiding it. My semi-hard prong and round testicles were clearly outlined in black, and I ran my fingers across myself, enjoying the feeling of the hide against my skin. A pair of gleaming, skintight chaps were next. I had to struggle to do them up, adjusting the textured leather to fit perfectly around my calves and thighs, but the effect was worth it. The black second skin moulded itself to my legs and rippled with every movement, while the open frames at my groin and butt highlighted my equipment and my firm round cheeks. Then I pulled on my favourite boots, polished till they shone, the black leather and silver metal rings glistening. My harness was next, the wide black leather shoulder straps and matching bands around my ribs connected front and back to steel rings, and buckled tight so they pulled up under my pecs and framed my chest. Another leather strap circled my waist, joined to the rest of the harness by short pieces of leather and two more metal circles; simple but effective. I finished myself off with wide leather armbands around each bicep. The smell of the leather upon me wafted up and my prong began to harden again. The aroma of the leather, and the squeaking noises as I moved, were the best way I knew to build the anticipation of hot man-to-man sex. As a final touch I grabbed a leather hood, tucking it into the waistband of my chaps. In deference to public sensitivity, I pulled a pair of baggy denim jeans on, and threw a leather jacket over my upper body, before jumping astride my bike and roaring off. The location given in the advert was a warehouse, surrounded by others, the whole area seemingly deserted. I parked my bike in a secluded alcove and found the door of the place. There were no signs or other markings, and I was unsure if this was the right place. Pounding my fist against the heavy timber door, I waited. There was no apparent activity, and no sound from within. I pounded again. About to give up, I was on the point of turning away, when the door groaned and opened a crack. “What?” came a voice from an unseen figure. “I’m looking for the leather club,” I said, my uncertainty growing. There was no response, except that the door opened an inch or two further, although I still could not see the owner of the voice. “Is this where the private club meets?” I asked again. “Yeah.” “Can I come in?’ “You a member?” “Not yet, but I want to join.” I was becoming both concerned and irritated: I had expected some kind of interrogation, but not outside on the street. An indecipherable grunt, and the door swung slowly open, enough to grant me entry. Beyond was darkness, except for the faint glow of a candle. “Change in that room, then go through the other door,” said the voice, the man behind it still unseen in the gloom. I walked into the room opening off the entrance, to find a large enough space, with lockers along both sides, and a second door at the other end, closed. I stripped off the jeans, and placed them with my jacket and helmet in one of the lockers, then pulled the hood from my waist and over my head. It fit snugly, covering my eyes and the top of my nose, and down over my ears and the back of my neck. The scent of leather again filled my nostrils, the feel of it against my face causing a re-emergence of my erection. I took my time, making sure I looked my best. Ready now, I pushed open the second door. As I stepped through, the door closed quickly and silently behind me. My attention was captured by the sight in front of me: A large open space, completely devoid of windows, lit only by dim red globes and flickering candles, presented itself to me. The ceiling was black. The floor was also black, but springy, and felt like vinyl over some kind of soft underlay. The walls alternated between black paint and full floor to ceiling mirrors. Slings of black leather and silver chains hung suspended near each corner of the place, and leather-covered benches, beds and tables were spread around the room, interspersed with metal chains hanging from various points in the ceiling, or fixed to rings set in the floor. I stared in amazement, my cock twitching and my mind racing. I heard a soft click behind me, and turned quickly. My mouth fell open in shock at the vision confronting me. A man stood there, but what a man! Clad head to toe in black leather, he was a god. He must have stood at least six and a half feet tall, maybe more. On his head, a black police style cap with polished visor that was pulled low over eyes hidden by mirrored sunglasses. Wide powerful shoulders draped with shining black leather straps of a harness, the pinpoints of metal studs sparkling in the candlelight, supported massive arms that were crossed below his chest. And that chest! The shoulder straps of his harness connected with others around his ribs to large silver circles over each nipple that were joined by a metal chain. The hard, taut flesh was stretched across perfectly defined pecs that glowed and looked as if they had been oiled lightly. Beneath his arms, more bands of the harness connected from the rings over his nipples to a single ring at his navel and black bands around his impossibly narrow waist, forming a stunning ‘V’ over the muscular washboard stomach. On his forearms, black leather gauntlets were adorned with the same silver studs as the straps of his harness. From the same ring at his navel, a single, narrower leather strap fell straight down, running beneath the waistband of his chaps to disappear into a shimmering black pouch again set with brilliant silver studs. The chaps he wore were so polished they reflected the flickering glow of the candles, and seemed to have been oiled and sprayed onto thick strong legs, the muscles of his thighs forming ridges in the leather. Those same legs were spread wide, pillars that were anchored in high, polished boots dressed with silver chain. The studded black pouch at his groin was filled impossibly. My eyes feasted on a huge thick tube of black pushing at the restraining leather, and behind it large shining black spheres. As he stood there I stared, my cock hard as steel within the thong, drinking in the ‘V’ shape of his upper body, the inverted ‘V’ of his legs, and the smaller but much more impressive ‘V’ of his masculinity encased in hide and framed by the chaps. The entire apparition seemed surreal, as he stood unmoving in the dull red light, wisps of smoke swirling around him. Finding my voice eventually, I gasped out softly, “Hello?” “Mmm,” he responded. Slowly his arms uncrossed and his large hands fell to his hips, his legs still spread and unmoving. My cock throbbed within its leather envelope, and my heartbeat increased. “Turn!” I did as commanded, spinning slowly on the spot to face away from him. I could hear movement behind me, the padding of his boots against the vinyl floor. The room was bathed in an eerie reddish glow as the flickering candle flames danced in the blackness. There was a scent to this place too, a musky manly aroma I could not identify, mixed with the hint of oil, and something else…amyl! There was definitely the smell of amyl in the air. My entire body tingled with excited anticipation and my penis ached with the erotic arousal of the place. “Mmm.” Again. This time much closer behind me. I jumped with surprise when his hands touched my shoulders, the skin of his palms slippery with lightly scented oil. “Don’t move.” The deep voice said into my ear. I stood and shivered with pleasure as his fingers began at my neck and slowly spread the oil over my skin, rubbing outward from my neck across my shoulders and down my back. One or the other of his hands would be removed from me frequently, replenishing the oil in his palms, but at least one always remained in contact with me. His touch was erotic as he carefully applied the slick liquid, massaging softly, almost caressing me. The whole of my back was covered, and then he began on my arms, and still I stood there. The treatment continued, as he worked on oiling my chest and stomach. When his fingertips made contact with my nipples, I let out an involuntary moan, the sensation shaking me as my head rolled back. At that, he pinched my tits firmly, pulling the nubs out from my skin. I gasped with the pleasure and groaned again, but he let go and moved on to ensure my entire upper body bore the thin film of oil. Part of me wanted to turn and grab him, to attack him, but part of me begged him to continue, to tease me and thrill me like this for hours. His strong, oily hands were working on my butt, rolling the flesh of my arse cheeks and massaging the oil into the firm orbs as I tingled and moaned quietly with delight. He was ensuring that every inch of my skin not covered by leather was bathed in the musky scented oil he applied. As he neared the end of his task, his fingers traced the crack of my arse, sliding easily down between my cheeks to the softest tender spot around my anus. I gasped again, groaning loudly, and he rewarded me by slipping an oiled finger through the ring of muscle that was my sphincter, massaging my hole and playing at the inner ring of my arse. I began to bend forward, to allow him easier access, but he removed his oily digit, and I straightened to my original position. Now that I was fully oiled to his satisfaction, he placed his hands on my hips, and I felt a whisper of air at my neck. He was blowing softly, the warm breath exciting me as it touched my skin, moving gently down my spine. My groans increased in frequency and volume as this treatment sent me into rapture, and yet I had hardly been touched. I had never known such an erotic experience. As his breath played down my back, his hands crept slowly back from my hips, sliding easily with the double oil coating. His fingers began to trace the edge of my chaps, feathery touches that just scraped along my skin, emphasizing the border between leather and flesh, starting at the small of my back and moving out then slowly down around my buns. Not stopping, his gently probing fingers continued along the line of leather under my arse cheeks and toward my inner thighs. I was almost shaking with the pleasure, my cock threatening to burst from the cushion of hide. Still standing, I spread my legs so as not to hinder his progress as his hands eased forward between my thighs. One finger remained in place while he moved his other hand so that he reached around my leg and his finger resumed its contact with my skin at the exact place where he had left off, then repeated the maneuver with his remaining hand. Again he continued, still following the line of my chaps over the super sensitive skin of my pelvis, but now his warm breath was caressing the mounds of my cheeks, and blowing down the valley of my crack, as my pink rosebud twitched and ached in anticipation. When his fingers reached the waistband of my chaps again, he stood up, leaving his hands in position. Moving in close behind me, he placed his hands lightly against the throbbing bulge of my penis and my rolling heaving balls, letting his palms rest against the solid outlines of black leather, caressing me and giving the softest of squeezes. As he did this, I felt the gentlest touch on my butt. His huge meat, still encased in the leather jock, was pressing forward to just touch at the flesh of my buns. Instinctively, I began to move back against him, but again a husky whisper in my ear: “Don’t move!” Resisting the urges that were almost overpowering me, I stood as still as I could, although my entire body was trembling with pleasure. His hands journeyed upwards again, making contact with the flesh at my stomach, and beginning to trace ever-increasing circles on my skin. A new sensation now, as he moved closer to me, his oiled, leathered groin pressing more firmly against my butt, and his chest making contact with my shoulder blades. As his fingers once again traced the lines of my harness over my stomach and across my chest, he gradually moved into me further, his knees pressing at the back of mine, his shins rubbing against my calves through the double layer of leather we wore, his thighs strong and firm against the backs of my legs. As his fingers approached my nipples, he stood so that we were connected, skin against skin and leather against leather, from shoulders to ankles. His arms encircled mine, pinning my elbows to my side, and he began playing with my tits, pinching them lightly, drawing the nubs out and tweaking the erect tissue. I began to breathe in gasps, moaning loudly now, certain I had discovered paradise. When his mouth began to nibble and bite at the skin of my neck, my head lolled to one side, and I would have done anything, anything, he asked! He released his grip and broke the contact between us, his hands going to my shoulders and spinning me slowly around to face him. Once again, the vision of him was magnificent: the shining black leather and oiled skin gleaming in the soft light, the powerful masculinity evident and alluring as I looked through the eyeholes of my hood to the mirrors of his glasses. His hands came up to the back of my head, gripping the leather hood firmly, massaging through the hide. He began to pull my face towards his chest, uttering a single word: “Lick.” Happily, I obliged, having wanted to do exactly that for hours. I began to attack his neck, but then remembered the intense pleasure of his feather soft touches. Backing away a fraction, I used my tongue as he had used his fingers, just touching the oiled, firm flesh, following the edges of his harness straps down from his shoulders and across his chest, moving around him as I did. As he moaned quietly in appreciation, I became bolder, and my fingers joined in the touching, doing as he had done, tracing the lightest of circles on his skin. As my lips found his nipples, I concentrated on the most careful ministration I could manage, licking out at the erect brown nubs, then blowing softly over them, taking them gently between my teeth and pulling at them before letting go again. My hands were at his back, careful to just lightly scrape against the smooth oiled skin as I followed the lines of his harness down his back, then traced the edge of his chaps around the firm solid globes of his arse. My tongue drifted down his stomach, led by the sweet aroma of leather on his harness, and my hands came to meet my mouth at his groin. It was then that I beheld the magnificence of his manhood. Close up, my eyes feasted on the long black tube of leather. My fingers touched so lightly, almost reverently at the rolling orbs, large and inviting, sitting in their cushion of leather. As my hand prodded gently at his balls, my eyes led and my tongue followed as I licked and nibbled at the black textured hide that encased his prong. I traced the outline of his cock from base to tip through the leather, breathing in the scent of maleness and leather. I opened my mouth wide and closed my lips around his shape, massaging him with my mouth gently as he moaned so quietly, his hands returning to the leather hood over my head and encouraging me to continue. Fingers and tongue worked in unison to massage and caress that throbbing hot poker of black leather and its attendant spherical black jewels, and I was rewarded by his pushing forward, against me, his breathing quickening as he did. Suddenly, his demeanour changed. Gone was the softest gentle teasing. He lifted my head quickly up, his arms going around my body as he grabbed me in a bear hug, grinding his huge solid groin against my own, the leather sliding against leather, oiled and slick as we slid and thrust and held each other. His face leaned to mine, and I opened my mouth as his tongue invaded my lips, exploring and taking possession of me. I tasted him, suckled at his tongue and breathed in his very breath, desperate for all of him. The need, which he had built up within me, slowly but relentlessly became urgent and demanding. I had to have him, all of him, and I felt his own needs matching mine. In a frenzy we attacked each other, hands and mouths searching and finding skin and leather, as we pinched, sucked, groped, squeezed and nibbled. As we mauled each other, we slid down to the floor, rolling around on the cushioned vinyl, the oil on our bodies slicking the surface and adding to the sensational eroticism as his large, manly hands slid all over my body and I grabbed and groped at him. He lifted me bodily onto him, then rolled again so that he was above me, his throbbing black bulge pressing against my own. At that point he slowed again, the attack upon me easing. His hands pinned my arms to the ground, his knees pushing my legs apart as his body slid over mine and his chest pressed into my abdomen. Instinctively, I raised my legs, the leather of my chaps, oiled and shining, gripping his waist. The solid tube of his man meat pressed into the leather envelope containing my nuts and he leaned forward and took my left nipple between his teeth, biting firmly and pulling out from my chest. I gasped at the pleasurable pain, a long “uunnnhhhhh” escaping from me. At that, he reached for my legs, lifting my knees up to his shoulders as he leaned into me again. Now the solid black pouch at his groin nudged my exposed arse as his hands played over the thong I wore, squeezing my cock within its leather envelope, massaging the leathery orbs below. He mock-fucked me in that position as my body screamed out with delight at the attention he lavished upon me. Suddenly he reached between us, pulling the strip of leather from my pouch away from my puckering hole. At the same time, I heard a snap, and realised that he had removed the front part of his jock, which had been attached like a codpiece. I looked in wonder as his huge throbbing tool sprang out, leaking pre-cum and twitching, the blood-engorged head angry red and searching for release. From somewhere he produced a condom -- black latex -- and rolled it down over the monster cock between his legs. Slurping a liberal dose of lube on the living black latex prong, he pushed first one and then a second finger into my aching hole, opening me and readying me for his assault. The throbbing weapon jiggled before my eyes, black, slick, shining in the light, and I needed it, had to have him inside me. Re-positioning himself behind me, he took aim at the twitching pink target of my anus. His steel-hard tool nudged forward, the mushroom head making contact with the soft skin of my hole. He pressed forward as I willed myself to relax, opening to him. Suddenly, a burst of pain as my arse was stretched, and he was there, the head of his cock through the ring of muscle as my sphincter closed behind the lip of his glans. For a second he stopped as I grimaced with the pain, but his need was too great, and almost involuntarily his body surged forward, the thick length of his shaft penetrating me, sinking down, down into my gut. I let out a strangled yell as the pain of that massive intruder rocked me, and the full length of his eleven inches jabbed my innards. Incredibly, the pain disappeared as fast as it began. My eyes opened in surprise, and I looked up to find this huge, powerful leather god above me, shining with oiled skin and polished leather as his very masculinity came to rest deep within my body. “Fuck, yes!” I hissed up at him, and he grinned at me. Now he began to move, drawing back to push into me again, starting slowly and increasing his rhythm, a steady thrust and withdrawal that massaged my chute, filling and emptying my warm wet cavern, the solid steely shaft of him scraping against my prostate and sending electric shocks through me. I matched his pace with my own, my rectal muscles gripping at him as he withdrew, relaxing and welcoming him back with each forward motion. My head rolled back, then snapped up again, my eyes opened and closed as he humped continuously at me. The squelching sound of his pole jabbing into my hot cave combined with the occasional squeak of oiled leather and the gasping moans of my pleasure to fill the room with the sound of pure male sex. On and on he pumped, varying speed from a slow measured thrusting to a hard pounding motion and then slower again. My body ached with the incredible joy of his invasion, rocked and twitched under him, gripped at him in passionate abandon. Still he fucked at me, now pulling right back until only the tip of his cockhead remained within, to plunge his full length deep into me again, now thrusting with short sharp jabs that poked the upper limits of my gut. I had never known a fuck like this, never believed I could take so much and still want more. I lost track of time, but I am sure he fucked at me as I wrapped myself around him in ecstasy for an hour or more. So many times, I was at the brink, about to explode and I called out a warning to him, and he would ease back, or vary his probing, so that I fell back, squirming and delighted. He too approached that abyss several times, coming right to the edge before stopping, resting to allow the flood of passion to subside a little and so our coupling could continue. He played me like a musical instrument, and had the most amazing self-control. Eventually, and despite his efforts to prevent it, I could hold back no longer. He was leaning deeply into me, pounding that cock harder and deeper into me, ramming against me with furious pumping crashes. My body was squelching and aching, shocks of pleasure racing through me. I felt the waves of pleasure increase, knew I was close. I tried to let him know, but his head was down as he concentrated on plugging my arse with that dagger of masculinity. A burning, urgent ache began in my gut and spread quickly through my body as every nerve ending tingled with almost unbearable pleasure. His powerful frame rocked against me as he built up his speed and the strength of his fuck yet again. My cock, still restrained in the leather pouch I wore, throbbed and swelled, my balls rolled and heaved as the texture of the leather massaged my groin. With a mighty hump, he plunged his latex covered sword in to the hilt, crunching against my body, and that triggered my orgasm. My testicles contracted, I shuddered with the intensity of climax, and my cock exploded. A river of cum poured from me, gushing into the leather pouch as my prick spasmed and my body twitched in time. The gooey load was too much to be contained in the pouch, and leaked from the leather running onto my stomach and down my sides. My battered arse clenched tightly around the shaft of his still-pumping cock as total ecstatic pleasure flowed over me. Even as I continued to shoot he suddenly pulled back, withdrawing completely from me. The shock of being empty after so long registered through the haze of my spasming, but I could do no more than gasp. As I began to subside, I looked to him. He was kneeling over me now, still between my legs. He had ripped the condom from his cock, and that huge rampant fleshy pole was slicked and being pumped in his fist. Somewhere in my mind I marveled that that massive organ had been buried within me for so long. He gripped at himself and the muscles in his arm stood out in relief as his own pleasure built. I reached for him, reached up, and my fingers found his tits. Pinching suddenly, firmly at the erect brown flesh, I twisted his nubs and pulled at them. The effect was instantaneous and incredible. He let out a loud bellowing cry, his head rocked backwards and his monster cock erupted. A geyser of searing, white-hot man essence shot from him, arcing high into the air before falling in loud wet splatters across me. Globs of his jism landed on my face, my chest, my arms and stomach. The sticky liquid that shot from his weapon crashed to earth surrounding me and covering me as still more poured forth. The heated manjuice flowed from him, forming pools on my abdomen and chest, a seemingly never-ending stream of cum emptied from him as he shuddered and trembled, shaking with the power of his orgasm. Finally, the torrent slowed to a trickle, then stopped. With one last shudder he shook his still-hard meat, and collapsed forward on top of me. I welcomed the weight of his body, my arms going around him, holding him tight as he gasped for air atop me. After a few minutes he recovered sufficiently to roll himself to one side, sliding off to lie beside me. His hand crept up, lifting the edge of my thong and finding my naked, still semi-erect cock, scooping the pool of sticky cum gathered under the pouch up and onto my gut, where it mixed with the lake of white manjuice he had deposited there. Combining the two, he twirled his fingers around, scooping up a good helping of it and holding his hand to my face. I opened my lips, licking eagerly at the salty sweet taste of us. Filling my mouth with our joint outpouring, I grinned at him. He smiled back, and leaned to me, kissing me and drinking that cocktail from me, joining with me in tasting our mixed essences. Some time later, we collapsed again, beside each other, exhausted and sated. With an effort, I raised myself on one elbow and looked into his face. “Thank you!” I said with a conviction and sincerity I hoped he felt. “Fuck, yeah!” he replied. I lay there, wondering if he would ever say more than two words at a time. He rolled over, looking down at me, and removed his mirrored sunglasses so I could see his eyes for the first time. They were deep pools of green, and he smiled with a thoughtful look. “You know, the Club meets here on the last Sunday of each month.” “Yeah…today,” I replied, confused. “No, today’s the 24th. Next Sunday is the 31st. That’s when the next meeting is.” I sat up, looked at him, realisation dawning. I felt like a fool, until he spoke again. “Of course, I’m here every other Sunday…” We laughed, long and hearty, together. I never did get to join that club, but I certainly have a compulsory date every other Sunday now. The End Comments welcome – iainlthr@hotmail.com