Gay Erotic Stories

Gino Gino was squatting down in his blue jeans with a screwdriver right in front of the electrical socket. The wiring was off, and he’d been fiddling with it for hours. As he twisted the Phillip’s head screw into place, a drop of sweat fell from his forehead onto a hair on his thumb knuckle, and another from the middle of his neck down the top of his back. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and I could see the crack of his ass, with his back towering upwards out of it, splaying out to the sides in thick, ropy twists. "Cannot wait for that air conditioner to work," he said in his nasal huskiness. Like a true Bronx boy. Man, I should say. "Baby, you want some iced tea?" I asked, stepping out of the kitchen with a loud yawn. He was putting in another screw, and he didn’t hear me. It was the middle of June, around his birthday. The temperature was 102, and the humidity 110%. Simply unbearable. Gino was up around six to install the air conditioner, only to find that the socket where he wanted to plug it in was fucked up. Fucked up enough to take Gino, an electrical engineer, over four hours to fix. He hadn’t eaten, showered, shaved, nothing. Get it done, get it done, he would always say, then get on with the day. I walked over to him with two tall glasses, feeling sticky sweat sliding in between the cheeks of my ass. "Here," I said, bringing his glass next to his right cheek. "Put it right there, baby," he said turning his head to the right. "I’m almost finished." The screw fell out of the hole onto the ash wood floor. I put his glass a foot away from his right knee, watching the screw roll to his big toe. I walked around him and sat down on the floor cross-legged, with my back against the wall. I was staring at the tufts of wavy dark-brown hair on his chest and he was staring at the head of the screw. I was staring at his face--fresh, alive, searingly Italian, just like the first time we fucked in his Jeep Wrangler on 26th St. at 2:30 in the morning. Gino loved me, he loved me with a man-distance and man-removedness that was unbearably sexy to me. The depth of his love never quite got out of his eyes or his mouth. It just sort of welled up on the verge, waiting for me to dig it out. I loved that. "Gino, I wish you’d have got me up. I could’ve helped you." "Baby, this is shit work. I don’t want you to do this." He loved it, though, fixing things. He thirsted for every opportunity. He was concentrating so hard on screwing the screw, you could see the passion in every molecule of his face. He was turning the last turn when the painting right above his head jarred out of place. I put my glass down and sprung up to fix it, a 19th-century oil of a Florentine grape vineyard given to us by his mother. I had to cut my right foot in between his legs to get at it properly. Just a screw in the back out of place, I found, misplacing the wire it held in place. I felt a hand on my ass and Gino’s breath on my right thigh. I put the wire back on the picture hook and felt his tongue in the small of my knee. My glands swelled with sweat from the unexpected stimulation, and I could smell myself. Gino pulled my snug black briefs down, exposing my left buttock, then inserted the tip of his middle finger into my navel. It was so hot in the room, the wetness of his mouth was surprisingly cool against my thigh. He licked and kissed sloppily up the back of my thigh, lapping up my perspiration and leaving behind thin ropes of spit. With his teeth, he pulled down the other half of my briefs. My hands were still on the sides of the painting, my eyes fixed on the white of a green grape. With one swift movement Gino took almost my whole right buttock into his mouth, letting it out like he was spitting out a glass of water into the sink. "I haven’t showered, honey," I said under my breath, already a little heady. "Good," he mumbled, then spread my cheeks apart and plunged his face into my ass, with his big tongue covering almost the whole length of my crack. "Oh Jesus," I cried out quickly. He curled his tongue and slid it into my sticky hole, waving it back and forth in circles. "Oh shit." I let out an open-mouthed sigh that made my stomach collapse. He slid his tongue back out and into the small of my crotch, which he began gnawing at like a mango pit. I raised my left leg over his head and turned myself around, releasing his head from me and dropping my face to his mouth. I dove onto his lips and tasted my ass and night-old sweat with the sweet stench of his morning breath. How could my desire be so strong, I thought. I wanted him and I wanted everything, and I reached deeper into his mouth with my tongue to get it. Gino grabbed the short black hair on my head and leaned me closer to the wall pressing his platinum wedding band into the right side of my head. Lifting my legs, he pulled my briefs off, still squatting as he had been for four hours. "I want more," he said and brought my ass back up to his face, making my head slide down the wall. He grabbed me by the small of my knees and spread my legs wide. There was a pool of sweat forming in my navel. As soon as he inserted his tongue into my hole, it overflowed, and dripped speedily down to my neck. He could have eaten me for five minutes, five hours, I don’t know. He just ate, ate, ate. "I could live on your ass," he once told me at a Mexican restaurant in Tribeca when our food never came. My ass was still quivering from his tongue, but my neck was starting to hurt. I put my hands on his knees and pulled my ass gently away from his face. I hadn’t heard him breathing until then, and I found him panting. He could barely keep his eyes open. I reached out and clasped his neck and sat myself up on his squatting thighs. "You," he said with much effort, "make me," and now breathing heavily after each word, "you make me so high." "I love you." I ran my right hand hard up the back of his head against the grain of his short-buzzed dark-brown hair. I took his Roman nose into my mouth. The tip of my tongue briefly entered his right nostril, then moved on to his right eye. His mouth was embedded in the right of my neck sucking and pulling. I pulled my mouth away and lowered it down to a tuft of hair above his left nipple, which I wet and sucked and preened into a little cowlick. He threw his head back when I took his large hard nipple. It was like a little stubby dick, it was so huge. I sucked and licked salty drops of sweat dripping from it, watching his face cringe in pleasure. I lifted up his left arm and wedged my face into his armpit. His smell, so good. Ripe from the long night and early morning work. The whole mound of wet, sticky hair was in my mouth, catching on my tongue. He bent down and turned my face so he could kiss me. I had caught a couple of hairs from his armpit and he ignored them. I unbuttoned his Levi’s. No underwear. I pulled out his cock which still smelled of fuck from the night before. I lifted my left leg and cradled my calf on his shoulder, pulling my mouth to his with my right hand on his neck. With my left hand I stroked the length of his penis wet with sweat and inserted it gingerly into my ass. From his position there was only room for short thrusts, so he pushed into me cradling my buttocks in his palms. I leaned back against the wall to give him more room and with one slow thrust he was completely inside of me. "Oh holy shit," he cried. He loved being in me. He would just stay there sometimes, barely moving, concentrating on the moment. Gino grasped my waist. It was so small and his hands so large his thumbs almost touched. He pulled out, almost completely, then thrust all the way back in. "Oh my fucking goodness." He did this twenty, thirty times. All the way out, all the way in. "Gino, come." "Oh God." "Gino, Gino…come." More thrusts. "Oh baby." "Gino." Faster thrusts. "I want you…" "I love you Gino." "I love you baby. My baby." "Gino, I love you." Faster, harder thrusts. He was screaming now, "Holy motherfuck." "Gino come." My head beat against the wall, he was pounding into me very hard. "Gino," my forearms were trembling as I held his neck. "Gino, Gino." My fingers were digging into the flesh of his neck. "Baby, baby….oh shit." "Come." He slammed me into the wall. "Oh fuck, fuck my God." He shook his head back and forth. "Goddamn motherfuck." "Coooome," I wailed as I came all over his stomach. In an instant he clamped his mouth on mine and I felt a gush of warmth in my ass. He kept thrusting, slowing down each time. I hadn’t realized how wet we both were. Sweat trickled into my mouth from my upper lip. His face was drenched, and his whole body shined in salty sweat. I released my hands from his neck and they just slid off. A huge drop fell from his right eyebrow onto my knee. "Stay in me," I asked in a whisper. He closed his eyes and stroked my lips with the back of his fingers. I caught his middle finger and he let me suck it. So salty, wet, and soft. Still, sucking, I ran my hands against the long brown hair on his forearms and held onto his soft and thick bicep. He opened his eyes and lovingly took his finger out of my mouth. With both hands on my buttocks, he slowly withdrew, letting out a satisfied sigh. He placed me back on the floor and stood up, his shiny uncircumcised penis hanging out of his jeans. He smiled. What a smile. Like a Mafioso smile. Wide, strong, bold, with just a hint of badness in the lips and a glimmer of deceit in the eyes. With both hands, staring straight at me, he massaged my come into his stomach, until it all disappeared. He bent his legs and opened up his jeans, letting his cock and balls fall back in, and buttoned back up. "Why are you so beautiful?" he asked me. "Why are you?" "If I didn’t marry you, some other man would’ve had you. I’m the luckiest man alive—or dead." I laughed. "So am I!" I got up and headed for the kitchen, slipping him a long, wet kiss on my way. I could feel his come starting to drip out of my ass. Gino followed me, grabbed my waist, pushed me up against the counter. He leaned down and kissed my back, pecking softly. "So what’s for breakfast, Mr. Gourmet?" "Me," I said. He let out a series of sporadic chuckles, and I could feel the bursts of breath on my neck. "Okay," I said, "let me go take a shower." "No. I want to finish my breakfast." He lowered my torso over the counter and bent down to spread the cheeks of my ass again. "Beautiful. Mother in holy heaven, you’re beautiful." He lapped up his come, oozing out of me, and dove in for the rest. After having come myself, his tongue felt different this time, much more relaxing than the feverish intensity of the first time. It seemed cooler, and reached farther inside, since his penis had stretched me. He slipped out and made his way up my back with deliberate, forceful sucks. He turned me around and looked into my eyes. His breath was beating on my chin, and I could smell my come, his come, my ass, his breath, our sweat. His left eye twitched. His nostrils flared with a deep inhalation. His gaze was as intense as it was exhausted. He loved me. I knew he loved me. "I love you." "I love you, Gino." comments? chat? send to jbjock@hotmail.com