Gay Erotic Stories

I never knew I'd loved him until my sophomore year in high school. In fact, there had been a year or two when I had hated him, hated his guts. He was a year older than I was, but had been held back from the fourth grade because of his laziness. Both he and his twin brother had been kept back a year behind, and it was then that I had first met him. I grew up in Hawaii, on a small island in the middle of the pacific. We were just kids then. His name was Josh, his twin brother Thadd. And I remember now when we were in the fifth grade, and we'd sit alone after school, alone on the grass behind the gymnasium, and he'd move up close beside me and put his arms around me. I'd sit there in his arms and he'd hold me until I fell asleep. We were just kids then, and he already knew that he loved me. I forgot about those times. For some reason they had escaped me. Before I knew I loved him, I had only remembered one thing about those times. There was one afternoon when Josh had tried to do more than just hold me. I sat there in his arms as I had done many afternoons before, when he casually placed his hand between my legs, and I had freaked out. I ran home and told my mother, and she talked to him. She was a schoolteacher, and she pulled him aside, and threatened to put him on school suspension. And from that day on until our sophomore year in high school, Josh no longer held me in his arms. In my memories of our childhood, I had forgotten about his tenderness, I had only remembered his single act of lust. I was a child of ten, and I had been scared, can you blame me? But now I remember Josh for what he really was, a child who knew what he wanted, and I was his object of desire. And I recall our first year in junior high when he sat beside me in English class, and we'd get in trouble every afternoon. Always talking, always laughing. We were friends then, casual friends. And he would flirt with me every day. Rubbing his shoulders against mine, putting his arms around me jokingly on the bus ride home. And I would walk off that bus with the hardest boner, and I'd go into my bedroom, lock the door, and touch myself until I fell asleep. But he never touched me, he never held me like he had held me before, and he never told me what he really felt. And then, at the end of our first year in junior high, Josh and his brother moved away to another island, and I hated him for that. I told myself he'd never loved me, and those were the years that I forgot about our childhood. Although they lived on a separate island, I had heard stories about him and his brother. They were both getting in trouble together, nothing unusual. And they always had a girl on their arms, always the heartbreakers. And although we went to different schools, I even knew when Josh had lost his virginity. She was my friend, and I heard all about their first time. Of course, when I heard it, I thought I hated him, I thought he hated me. And then Josh moved back to my island in my sophomore year. The first day I saw him again, he was so beautiful. And I avoided him whenever he saw me. I didn't understand why my mouth was at a loss for words whenever he came near me, I never realized why it was that my heart raced whenever I saw him. So I avoided him. But he never forgot me, he found me, and he showed me that he loved me still. By my sophomore year, I had found my true self, or a good portion of the foundation that would later be myself. I had my friends, and we had good times. I wasn't the ladies man, but I had charm and an attractive face, and it was enough to keep my image up around my peers, and a girlfriend on hand whenever I was in need of one. I must admit that I was popular. But Josh was a god. Both he and his brother Thadd ruled the school. Every guy wanted to be them, and every girl wanted to be with them. They were hardcore surfers, and they were beautiful. We all hung out in the same group, partied at the same parties, and smoked weed in the same circle, but Josh and Thadd by far out shined everyone. And yet he had the courage to still love me. The ending of my sophomore year, two weeks before summer vacation, and we are cramming for our finals. I lean back in my chair, a math book in my hands, and Josh is in the chair directly behind of me, facing the other direction. My head comes to rest upon his back, and I feel him as he intentionally pushes his weight up against mine, telling me that it is alright to lean on him. And it was then, as I rested my head upon him, and as he sat there supporting me, that I realized what he really felt for me. And no one around us takes any notice, everyone is too busy studying. Then the bell rings, and I get up to leave. As I walk down the hall, he comes up beside, and starts to walk along with me. He sat beside me on the bus ride home, and held my hand in his. From that day until the last day of school my sophomore year, he held my hands on that bus ride home, and that was when I fell in love with the boy who was becoming a man. That summer was the greatest. We had our own secluded beaches, our hidden coves, and we'd surf all day until sunset. Then we'd sit on our boards at dusk, out in the ocean, feeling the water move beneath us past our legs, and watch as the sun set. Then at night, he and I would sit on the beach in the sand around a bonfire, and he would hold me, and kiss my forehead, until I fell asleep. In the mornings, we'd awaken with our arms around each other. Me with my head against his chest and my arm around his back, and he with his arms around my waist and his hands in mine. But we never had sex together, we were both too scared to know what that would really mean. And I never told him that I loved him. But I loved him so much, more than I loved myself, yet I could never tell him that. When school started up again that fall, w knew what we needed to do. We were both surfers, we had girlfriends, I was captain of JV basketball, and he was the pitcher for the baseball team. We both had reputations to maintain, and we both understood that. So for two years we loved each other, but we never spoke a word of it to anyone or even to one another. I was so madly in love with him, going to bed thinking of nothing and no one but him, waking up looking forward to seeing nothing and no one but him. In our senior year, Josh had just gotten himself a motorcycle, and he would come by after school and we'd ride together until dusk. I lived way out in the boonies, no one was around to see us as we hit the dirt roads in the old pineapple fields. I rode behind him, with my arms tightly around his waist, the wind whipping past our bodies, and I'd lean my head against his shoulders, and place my hands above his chest where I could feel his heart beat as it raced. I knew it raced because he had me as his love, and I had my arms around his body. At night, we would sit atop the rooftop of his house, and look at the stars. Two best friends who loved each other. He kissed me always, and he held me every time, but we never had sex. And then, late in our senior year, just after each of our 18th birthdays, we had our night. We were at a beach party, one of many that year, and we both had a little too much to drink. I had an old 74 Wrangler then, and I decided to leave the party early and find somewhere else to hang out alone. I got into my Jeep and started up the engine, then Josh comes along. He sits down beside me in the passenger seat, and says to me softly 'take me to our beach.' Then I drive to one of our hidden coves, and we both step out into the moonlight and onto the sand. The water is so calm and glassy, and I sit there listening as the waves roll up on the shoreline and slide gently back out to the sea. And Josh is standing quietly behind of me. Then Josh sits down behind me and he moves up against my back. He wraps his legs around me and pulls my body closer to his, holding me in his arms. I lie back in his embrace, my body between his legs, my back pressing against his hard cock, and my head resting on his chest. He strokes my hair with one hand, and wraps his other hand around my waist and takes my hand in his. We sit there together for a while, two best friends in a lovers embrace, and say nothing. Then I turn around in his arms and I kiss him. We had kissed before, but for some reason, we both know that this is the night. So he pushes me down into the sand, and kisses my neck. Then I take off my T-shirt, and he takes off his. All the while, his hands are holding me by the waist, and I smile as he moves his kisses lower, past my heaving chest, and past my sweaty abdomen. He unties my board shorts and slip them down over my legs, revealing my cock to him for the first time. For years he had held me, and kissed me, and loved me, but we never had the courage to do what our hearts compelled us to do. But the time had come, and we both knew we were ready. He takes my dick in his hands, and flicks his tongue lightly at first, then harder. He licks my shaft from the balls up, and I shudder as I feel the sensations move through me. His hands grab my hips, and I push up as he slowly takes my cock into his mouth. I run my hands through his hair, and push his head down harder, forcing him to take all of me. Then I run my hands along his shoulders, and we start to move together in unison. I thrust my hips slowly at first, then faster and faster until I find myself gripping his shoulders, and crying out in ecstasy, cumming so hard and crying out loud. He looks up at me with those dark sinful eyes, and I smile down at him. Then he spits my cum into his palms, and sits upright between my legs. He opens my legs, and rubs my cum over his throbbing cock. I stare down at him longingly as he casually strokes his twitching shaft. Finally he takes me, lovingly pushing his cock into my waiting asshole. He grabs me by the waist and starts thrusting his hips. I close my eyes and take in the sensations. It hurts at first, and then it all feels so good. I take in deep breaths as his sweet cock barrels into me with each thrust of his hips, and I move my body along with his heavy thrusts. Slowly he starts to thrust harder and faster, and I wrap my legs tightly around his waist as he cums so sweetly into me. He cries out and I shout along with him as I feel his juices flow all up into me. Years and years of pent up emotions and desires flow out of him and into me, and we continue our dance for a moment longer. I with my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, he with his hips gently thrusting the last of his lover’s thrusts. That night, after we made love, Josh held me like he had never held me before. We lay there together in the sand all night, like we had done the first summer we had been together, and it was before dawn's first light when he woke me up and told me that he loved me. He said that he had loved me as a child, and that he still loved me now. He said that he only held me each night for all these years, because he knew that I was scared of these feelings, and that he was just as much scared, but that he would hold me now, and hold me forever, if only I wanted him to. He said that I was his true meaning in life, and that the sea was second only to me. I looked into his eyes, and I wanted to cry out into his arms. I so badly wanted to give my whole self to him at that moment. Not just my body, but my heart and soul. But I could not find the words to tell him that I loved him. He waited for me to answer him, he wanted to hear my words, but they never came. And after a few seconds, he only nodded his head sadly, and held me tightly in his arms, saying nothing else. We never had sex again. We graduated together, and partied our last big party on graduation night. It was another beach party, and we left together again. But that night, he only held me. He held me to him like he did before as a child. And he kissed my lips and hugged me close for the last time that night. After we parted, Josh stayed on the island and continued to surf, and I moved on to another state. I never saw him again after that last night. I've moved away, and never stopped thinking about him once. About a month ago, I got word from my mother that Josh had been out surfing one morning, a few weeks past. He had caught a nice ten foot wave, but had accidentally taken a fall from his board, and the water had pulled him under. He was knocked unconscious by the coral reef in seven feet of water. He never came up from the water alive that day, the sea had taken him. And so I know now that he was finally claimed by his second love, and it was the only love of his that had the courage to claim him as own. Sometimes at night, I lie awake in bed and think back to try and remember what it felt like sitting alone with him in the ocean on our boards, the sea moving between our legs, and watching in silence as the sun set behind the horizon so peacefully. Or what it felt like as he held me to his chest up on the rooftops under the stars, and whispered to me softly about how much he had missed me in the day, kissing me so gently on my forehead. I think back about these feelings and cry because I often times struggle to remember them. I have never loved anyone as much as I had loved Josh. And I never had the words to tell him that. In memory of Josh… my first love…