Gay Erotic Stories

Separate vacations: Mary to visit our grandkids and me to tropical Mexico! Beside me on the plane sat a middle-aged fat man named Bill, a friendly guy who told me about the interesting tourist sites that I would see. He, however, was not going there for the ruins of ancient cultures, but for the Mexican boys. He enjoyed telling me about how easy they were to pick up, take to the hotel and have sex with. I asked if there were a lot of gay Mexican boys where we were going. "Oh, no, these are straight boys! Mexicans don't think they are doing anything gay by allowing a man to suck them off. Actually, they are demonstrating their manhood that way. Their girlfriends are too well protected for them to get any action, so they are horny as hell and ready to go! I love giving them oral pleasure and drinking their cum. They never do anything to me but that's OK, I get my pleasure in seeing them naked and feeling them all over. But don't touch their butts, that's an insult, unless, of course, you have a dick in your mouth at the time!" "Are these boys prostitutes?" I asked. "Well, no, they will do it for free. But I usually give them a little tip or take them out to dinner or something. Do you want to try one?" "Me? Well, no, actually I'm not interested in boys." "Too bad, you don't know what you're missing." We checked into a hotel, Bill taking a room next to mine. Later, while walking around town, I saw Bill with three teenage Mexican boys. He was heading back to the hotel. "Aren't they cute?" he asked me, "Are you sure you don't want one of them?" The boys were dressed in their soccer shorts and one didn't have a shirt on. They looked very healthy and decent, and not at all gay. "No thanks, not for me, but enjoy!" That night I heard Bill's door open and close many times. There was conversation in Spanish in the hallway. I looked out and saw four young men waiting outside Bill's door. My God, he was doing them assembly line! In the morning, I hired a canoe to take me upriver to see some ruins. I sat in the back of the canoe like a load of cargo while a barefooted young man, standing in the canoe, propelled us forward with a long bamboo pole. He was about eighteen, medium-dark-chocolate skin, curly short hair, and beautiful white teeth when he smiled. I guessed that he was a mixture of races, Caribbean Negro, indigenous Indian and Spanish. When we got out of town, he took off his shirt and pants, because of the heat and, dressed in a cotton bikini only, continued polling us up the river, planting the pole in the river bottom and walking back towards me, repeating the motion over and over. One did not need to be gay to appreciate his beauty. He was not massively muscled like the American bodybuilder ideal; his muscles were trim and close to the bone, but very strong. Bill would have liked him a lot. I used to be nice-looking too, at that age, but not beautiful like him. We conversed in our poor Spanish (his was a sort of local dialect) about the fish, birds, and monkeys in the trees of the jungle around us. We were all alone. He asked about my family and I told him of my wife and kids. He was the second of eight siblings, and his father was a fisherman. I asked if he was married and he said no, but he had a girlfriend who he loved very much, but he couldn't do anything with her until they got married. He asked if I wanted to connect with a girl, since I was by myself. I told him no, that my "pistola" doesn't work so well anymore. He said that sometimes men come to his village for a natural medicine, a very powerful vitamin that rejuvenates the vigor of an old man. Curious, I asked, "What is that?" He said, "A young man can give you the vitamin." He stopped polling and stood facing me. I looked up into his deep, mysterious, brown eyes and I understood. There was a swelling in his bikini. I reached out and pulled the bikini down. The beautiful boy stood completely naked in front of me. We were all alone, the brown boy's member in my mouth. The river gurgled, the birds chirped. The canoe drifted lazily in the current. To be continued…