Gay Erotic Stories

First thing I noticed was his walk. He sways on bow legs like a fucking sailor, you know? You can see a guy’s walk from way off, hits you long before you can make out his mug. A guy comes sailing down the street with a runway stride? forget it! No queens, no way. I’m into man meat. I get my pick, being the coolest looking piece on this here market. Why lie? Hell, I’m young, built, got all my front teeth and I know how to dress. Hey, men don’t come down here because they’re turned on by trash punks, they come looking for a substitute for that boy that lives next door. They want to make it with their old selves; the clean cut suburban types. Me, as per example! I don’t get no funky haircuts, I keep clean and wear a touch of familiar Old Spice. I wear socks, even. White jockeys, too. Just like they remember from their first time to cross the line. Most of them’s married, see? They don’t want to take nothing home to the wife, nothing that can’t be cured, you know? So they stay clear of the freaks. And they pay with a guilty conscience, that’s the best part! Mostly, that’s my trade, then he comes swaggering down the alley like Sinbad. He looks more like a seller than a buyer. He’s got a two day beard and a ripped tee shirt and oily jeans stuck to these huge fucking thighs and a basket out to here. Swear to god, I got a woody just watching him check out the action! I never got hot for a trick, ‘solute! But this guy? Jeesus H., you know? He don’t even look at me, that’s the problem! I mean I got a real problem. He’s checking out the rough stuff, the leather upholstery styles. What tha’? Oh, sez I. He’s a catcher! The package is false advertising, he’s looking for a topper. Diez gives him a dime worth of attitude, cocks him, “What you looking for, dude, bargain basement? You got the price of a ride?” The trader, he grins. A mean grin, the kind of curled lip Arnie gives when he’s pissed. “I got your price, punk. Enough to rent you for a month. You got a tattoo on your ass?” “Huh?”, Diez always kinda slow, “You better get up two months rent you wanna tattoo my ass, motherfucker!” “I’m looking for a tattooed ass. Twenty just to show me, a hundred if you got something I like.” He was talking to the whole damn alley. Loud talk don’t play down there, does it? Mostly guys get close and whisper their business, leave a man some dignity, you know? Hell, it ain’t no goddamn slave auction! Talking big about his pocketfull, shit, the hick wasn’t gonna walk out of there alive, anyway. Fuck him! I start off down the Terminal side. Ramon and Diez must have hit him just when I turned, I didn’t see it. I spin back around when I hear Diez scream. Sailor man is standing on Ramon’s head, well, his neck, anyway. And he’s holding Diez up in the air by his throat with one hand and he’s got the knife hand twisted around behind him with the other. He chunked Di up against the brick wall, jerked Ramon up and knee dropped him. Damn, that was a bad groan! It hurt me just to hear it! Diez slid down the bricks and sat quiet. Ramon curled into a lump and whimpered. Sailor was too cool! “All right, badboys, who else wants in my pocket? You can get it easy if you got a tattoo on your ass. Anybody? You? Step out.” He pointed at Kelly. Shit, Kell had tattoos all over his skin head body! He stepped out from the wall. The man pulled out a wad of green bigger than my hard dick, peeled off a bill. “Here’s a twenty, turn around and drop ‘em.” Kell looked around like, you talkin to me? “Shit, Bossman, I don’t sell my ass!” What else could he say with everybody watching and listening? “A peep show, Funnypapers, I just want a peep. Humor me, I’m tired and getting grouchy.” I couldn’t believe it. Kell turned around, dropped his jeans to his knees and bent over. The man swaggered over close and looked at the upturned illustrations of snakes and flowers. “Naw, not what I’m looking for. Nice job, though. Pretty work. Thanks, here you go.” He peeled off a second bill and put both in Kell’s hands. “Easy money. Who else?” Three other guys slowly stepped from the crowd. “Allright! Let the auditions begin!” I liked this guy, he was over the top, you know? Cocky and struttin’ but he could back it up. Tough enough! But he wasn’t interested in me, hardly noticed me at all, the fucker! While he was lookin at the booty show, I walked right up behind him and cold cocked the sonofabitch with a jack handle. I had his roll in my hand and the jack handle high and ready. Nobody fucked with me. Sailor was offline. A siren screamed, coming our way. Somebody always calls the cops if we get too loud. Every bitch in the alley went for the street, fast. I started off, went back and claimed my trophy. I drug the sailor down toward Terminal street and around the corner. Three doors down and then the stair well. He was heavy! I got him into the basement and shut the door, jammed it with the jacker. I had duct tape stashed over by the furnace. He was breathing stronger and groaning. I got him back in the shadows and taped him around his ankles and his wrists, behind his back. When the cops came down the sidewalk, I capped my palm over his mouth but they just checked the door and moved on. I patted him down. Car keys! hot damn! And a stubby pocket knife. A wallet that was too empty, no plastic, no ID, just some bullshit insurance salesman’s card and a couple of cash register recipes. I checked his socks. Open pack of Camels and a bic lighter and a fucking badge. Well, well, well. I got me a cop for a boy toy! I rolled him onto my bed. Okay, a pile of newspapers and a moldy army blanket, but I called it home. This is what I got the hots for? I unzipped him. His eyes popped open. “Hey, Sailor-man, glad you could join me, I was about to start without you!” “Listen, kid. What the fuck?” I had him by the dick. Funny, ain’t it, how the toughest badasses get all friendly and polite when you got ‘em hog tied and grab their dick. Shit, you can get ‘em to say, “please”, and , “thank you”, just by squeezing their balls. I didn’t answer him. I unbuckled his belt and pulled it off, “Nice leather, officer. You like leather?” I put a length across his mouth, gentle at first. Stroked it against his lips. “Lick it.” I pressed harder, slid it between his lips, against his teeth. “Taste of it. You like leather? and tattoos? You a rough boy, officer?” I tossed the belt aside, straddled him on my knees. I opened his pants and pushed them down. He wore boxers. I like boxers. Daddys wear boxers, boys wear jockeys. We had it right on track. A good omen. I worked the pants and the boxers down to his calves. “Talk to me, son. What are you doing?”, he started out the Daddy way, all reasonable, but he lost it. “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing? I’ll...” so I had to tape his mouth. He groaned loud! Where was the belt? There. I cinched it around his calves, above the pants. Peeled the tape off his ankles and stripped off the pants, shorts, shoes, socks. Retape the ankles. Nice. He was sweatin’ by the gallons! Naked made him nervous? He’d get used to it. I got the tee shirt over his head in front, pushed it down behind his neck. Great body, the thick and hairy kind. Looked powerful, looked well, restrained?... hahahah. I leaned down and kissed a nipple. He bucked like a mechanical horse. I grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged while I bit the side of his neck, licked his cheek, kissed his eyes. He screwed his eyes tight. I waited an inch away. When he opened them I saw the hate. Ah, half way home! I kissed his forehead and moved back to nipple territory. One, I bit pretty hard. He screeched behind the tape. I tasted blood. Good. I licked his belly, tongued his navel. Then... surprise, it was already hard when I got there. Guess he did like it rough, huh? It wasn’t real long, but thick as a fist. Not made to please, designed for pain! I like this cop I’m getting ready! I stood to strip. He watched, hatred and lust mixed on his face. Something was missing; the pain and fear, yeah! How could I forget? Where was that little pecker of a pocket knife? What’d I do with it. I was down to my jockeys. I rubbed at my full basket. His eyes followed my hand. How about that, he might catch a little, too! I knelt back over him, straddled his face and pushed my loaded crotch down on his taped mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut, again. Gee, wonder why he didn’t turn his face to the side? hahaha There’s the knife! The little blade, the tiny, immature one, yeah. I peeled off the gag. “Wanna’ call for help, now, officer? Want somebody to come busting in here and see this? Go ahead. Call. I pushed my crotch back on his mouth. He pinched his lips together. “Open wide, now. Eat all your meat and you can have desert.” I put the little knife to his temple, he jerked. “Uh oh, you made a boo boo!”, a tiny bead of blood welled up, trickled down to his ear. “Open up, fucker! You can die now or last a little while longer. What’s it gonna be?” When I pressed against his mouth, and against his temple, he opened. My dick was aching inside the tight cotton. I rubbed it over his lips. His eyes were shut but he kept his mouth open. I slid across his lips. “Lick me, Daddy”, it took a reminder with the knife, but he licked the jockeys. I was leaking like a drippy faucet, the top, at the elastic was soaked with my juice. My dick was trying to dig out of the waistband. I leaned back, reached behind me. He was still hard as a railroad spike. I pushed my shorts down. “We’re almost home, Daddy, just taste of me, just a little taste and I’ll give you what you need. Come on, do it for me.” I put my naked, wet dick head in front of his lips, so close I could feel his breath, feel the heat of his mouth. He closed his eyes. His lips touched me and I felt a shiver run from my ass all the way up my spine. “Yeah, just a little, a little bit, please.”, I didn’t want to beg, but it just came out. His tongue touched me, then his lips came up. He lifted his head and I pushed down to him. He took the head inside and I shook with a shiver of pure pleasure. “Stop, I can’t stand it. I’ll lose it!” I backed off and he watched my face with the fear I wanted to see. Damn, his temple was sure bleeding, did I do that? I ripped off my jockys and got in the saddle. One big handful of spit was all the lub I would give him. “Make it burn, Daddy!” I guided him to the entry, held him in place and dropped my ass hard as I could. He bucked up, somebody put a quarter in that pony! Dayum! His ass was jumping off that blanket like a trampoline! “God allmight that ... Oooh, fuck! I’m on fire! His knees came up behind me, jammed into my back. I leapt to his rhythm, tears leaked out my eyes and dripped down my chest. Son of a bitch, it hurt! Like a strop searing my hide! Oh, holy shit! I can’t take this! “come on, baby” the sailor found his voice, “fuck that pole, ride that thang, yeah! does it hurt? does it hurt? Gimme that tight ass, baby!” He was growling, muttering, groaning and fucking like a madman! I love it when they get off, you know? I hit it first, I couldn’t hold back. I spewed up in a fountain of jism that cascaded down across his chest and chin and his cheek. Two drops lit on his lip and he licked them off. Then he hit it. Damn! I squeezed down and froze on him. He arched up and groaned a full thirty seconds! I felt every pulse squirt out and ease my hot ass. Ah, like lotion on a sunburn. “Daddy, you split me open!” I collapsed on his chest and he was kissing my hair. I tilted my face up and he kissed my cheek, my ear. I climbed up higher, he clamped his lips on mine and I swallowed his tongue, tried to wrap my arms around his head, felt the cool, sticky blood at his temple. I broke away to see the damage. “I’m sorry, dude. Got carried away, I guess.” “It’s all right. Cut my hands loose, I want to hold you.” “Noway, Dad. Nobody holds me. That’s the rules.” I stood up and pulled on my pants, my shirt. I put on my socks and tied my shoes. The wad of money seemed even bigger than I remembered. At least three hundred, maybe more. He watched me, a half smile tugged at his lips. “You’re just going to leave me, like this?” “The knife is there on the blanket, somewhere. You’ll make it. Here, I’ll let you keep the car.” I tossed the keys to the floor. “It’s insured. Take it.” He smiled. “I’ve got cash and a cell phone stashed nearby, with my license and credit cards. I came prepared.” “Thanks, but you might have a bug in the car, huh? You really a cop?” “Absolute. The real thing. Do you really have an American flag tattoo on your ass?” “Oh, yeah.” I dropped my pants and turned to let him see. “You wanna to kiss it?” “Absolute!” He grinned in anticipation. I squatted down and put it over his face, he planted a big wet one, with a lick. “Be sure and tell your friends. I might change my hair or shave it bald, I might dress in leather or red rubber. Just the flag stays the same. I want to be found, I don’t wanna be caught!” “Tell me your name.” “Fuckin’ Aye! hahaha You a trip, sailor dude. Call me Sonny, I’d like that.” And he was one of the best. I’d give him a another fantasy for free, anytime. ........................................................................................ comment to Jackertoo@AOL