Gay Erotic Stories

Rescued by Friar Patrick Wandering. Stumbling. Looking for nothing. Finding it inside myself. Two years before I had left this place with a diploma, a fantastic education, and dreams of helping to build young lives. Now I was back. My work was successful, too successful in fact, but my dreams were dead. I could not reconcile my ideals and the politics of teaching in rural Oklahoma. So it was over, and I was lost in a misty insecurity. My eyes and ears and feet took in the sensations of a sleeping building come suddenly to life as thousands of students rushed to complete their pre-term errands. The sensations pelted me like cold, stinging rain, and I circled again, more at home in the noise than in myself. Just then, over the din, came a voice I never expected to hear again, "Jacob Riley, my favorite person!" Before his name materialized in my mind, I melted into the embrace of an unexpected friend. "Josh. I can't believe it's you. What happened to Dallas?" He told me how his fiancée had left him in Dallas after he moved there for her career. I heard him speaking, but barely. Inside myself, I was surging with joy. His voice had quickened my hibernating heart, and there was so much to do, to ask and to say. After talking and exchanging numbers and e-mail addresses, we hugged again, and I walked away on much lighter feet. Josh had been the first person to befriend me in this town of friends, but my schedule never allowed me to spend the time with him that I was sure would bring us into a close, intimate friendship. Instead, I saw him at club meetings and with other friends, and developed a crush on him that was close to monumental. When he moved away, I never expected to see him again. It's late, and I am surfing porn on the Internet. I'm more bored than I have ever been. Josh. I close my eyes and paint his form on the canvas of my mind's eye. He is tall, about 3 inches taller than I am, and thin, with muscles from carrying his drums. His ball cap and casual clothes say "I have taste, but I don't need you to know that." His skin is the color of coffee with cream, smooth and clean. Short cropped black hair frames a relaxed face dominated by soft brown eyes. His jawline, strong without any angularity, is accentuated by a well-trimmed goatee. His perfect white teeth are evident as he smiles, because he performs this particularly human facial expression from wall to wall, without the smallest hint of insecurity. His mirth shines from his eyes between rows of lashes just long enough to notice. I see his trademark laugh, head thrown back to expose his long, sinuous neck, and I see the shyness that settles back on him just afterward. I know him to be careful with people's feelings without backing down when he feels the need to speak. Stubborn when his mind is set, he will yield to a friend without any grudge. I have seen him pass through storms and good times, and longed to be his confidant, to know his feelings and private thoughts, and share his heart. Rising on legs stiff from long sitting, I cross to my bag where I've stowed his e-mail address. Without any care for what might happen, I write him a letter in the wee hours of the morning. I tell him how good it was to see him, how much I want to be closer than before, how badly I've fallen for him. Slamming my hands over my mind's ears, I quickly hit the send button, barely ignoring the voice of fear and reason trying to stop me. Those voices rush in after the deed is done, and I head to bed, confused and worried. It is afternoon and my long shift at work is finally over. Fatigue and business have washed Josh from my mind today. Opening my e-mail account, my throat tightens when I see his name on the screen. How could I have done this? There was no way to undo it now, so I opened his letter and scanned it for angry words. Not seeing any, I settle back slightly to read. “What time does your bakery open? “I could do 5:00am to 2:00pm on Mondays and Wednesdays. “I teach at the college from 3:30 to 6:00 in the afternoons on M-W-F. Tuesdays I teach in the mornings. Thursdays I teach out of town in the evenings, I have to leave by 5:00. “Saturday's are game days, and Sundays would be cool, just about all day. “It's kind of a crazy schedule, but if I could work there like 20 hours a week, that would give me enough money to pay bills. Who knows, maybe I'll be really cool like you and be a supervisor and make $50,000 a year! “It’s a thought. “Give me some free days for you, and we'll see what we can work out to get together. “Later, Josh” The soft caress on my face ends as the first relieved tear reaches my beard. It is followed by a few more as I read and reread the short letter, especially its last sentence. Having no idea where to go from here, I am simply overjoyed to still have his friendship, and I head to bed for a nap. He walks my dreams. It is early Sunday morning when I hear it. "Shhhhh, it's ok man. Everything is fine." Startled, but too groggy to move quickly, I summon my thoughts. Oh fuck, the party. The tequila, the tears, I remember now, and wish I didn't. "You ok, man?" Josh asks. "No. I'm embarrassed as hell." "No need. Everyone was hammered except me, and I brought you in here before you made a total ass of yourself." "Here" was a fraternity brother's house. Rising and walking to the bathroom, I wonder vaguely where the person who's bed I just left had slept last night. Last night hell, it was probably only 2 or 3 hours ago that I passed out. Returning with fresh teeth, I trade Josh places and roll back into a ball. "You were crying," he said. "Last night? It was just the liquor, man. Thanks for saving face for me." "No. You were crying when I woke you up." "Dude, I'm sorry. Things have been pretty rough for me lately. Guess I didn't realize how fucked up I was." "You were saying my name." Well, nothing I did when I was conscious could ruin our friendship, so I had to go and do it in my sleep. Perfect. "Josh, I'm really sorry. Can't you just ignore the crush? We've always been such good friends." "No, I can't ignore it, and I think it's more than just a crush." I noticed for the first time that he looked like he hadn't slept at all. "Have you been to bed?" Blushing, he turned away. "No, I was sitting here with you. Thinking about the things you said last night, and what I was gonna do about it. Then you started saying my name and crying. I hate it when you cry." "Josh, I'm so sorry," I breathed. Closing my eyes, I started weeping all over again, telling him that I would not embarrass him like that again. "Please stop," he said, closing the distance between us in two strides. "I don't want to hear about that any more." "What do you want to hear then?" I asked. "I don't know what else to say." "Say my name some more, and look at me when you say it." "Josh, I can't man. This isn't a game for me. I love you." The words were out, and there was no way to get them back. I was committed, and I was afraid. Turning away from him to avoid his shocked expression, I braced myself for what would come next. His soft kiss, like a breath of spring breeze, was the last thing I was prepared for. I lay perfectly still, trembling, waiting. The weight of his arm across my ribs, and the touch of his fingers on my chest sang counterpoint to the sigh of his warm breath on my ear. I tensed as the weight of his body shifted the mattress behind me. Somehow I closed my fingers over his hand on me, and tilted my head back, exposing my unshaven neck. The touch of his kisses on my neck and ear were like nothing I had ever imagined. Arching my back and stretching my legs, I pressed back into his long muscular body. Lying fully prone behind me, he drew me close, and I felt his growing love against my backside. Turning to face him, I opened my eyes. The softness and desire mingled in the depths of his soulful eyes caused tears once more to well up. Before they could spill down my face, he kissed me. I parted my lips, and he entered me with his tongue. A long, languid, giving kiss, the urgent desire held in check, brought my own manhood to the ready. I pulled him to me, and we began our consummation. After what seemed like beautiful hours of unhurried kissing and stroking, my need for him rose to an unignorable pitch. I pulled his shirt over his head, and gasped at the chisled beauty of his chest, arms and stomach. Muscles tensed under golden skin dusted with a fine layer of black hair. His stomach moved rhythmically with his breathing as I stared openly at the thicker hair there, leading to his waist. I leaned in and kissed each of his hard nipples, playing my hands along his shoulders, arms and ribs. I let my teeth nip slightly as he grabbed at my hair and a moan escaped his full lips. Pulling away, he stood and dropped his jeans. His blue boxer briefs strained over his hard cock. Moving to take him, he stopped me and lifted my own shirt. I removed my pants and underwear, and knelt naked before him on the bed. Stripping his undergarment, he joined me, and my heart stopped when our bare skin touched for the first time. I pulled him to me and kissed him, this time with urgency and passion. He responded in kind, our hands exploring feverishly the newness of our bodies. When I felt I knew each contour, I pushed him gently onto his back, and renewed my play on his gorgeous chest. He bucked and moaned as I licked his tits, and worked my way down to his beautiful penis. Pausing two heartbeats, I took him up to his balls into my hungry mouth. He gasped as I twirled my tongue around his pole, using suction and my rhythmic bobbing to bring his juices up from deep inside him. In only minutes, he began to pant and chant my name. I pulled off to extend his pleasure, and took each beautiful nut into my mouth by turn. I had to straddle him to keep him still enough to blow, and his hands on my ass drove me wild with desire. I lunged onto his cock and in a dozen strokes, brought him to ecstasy and swallowed every drop. He lay very still, glowing with spent sex. I continued to slowly run my hands over his body, and positioned myself to kiss him for another eternity or so. After a while, he began to quicken, and took my dick in his powerful hands. He pumped the shaft with his right hand while he played my nuts with his left. Moving around behind me, I could feel first his breath, then his kisses on my neck, as he pumped me harder and more expertly than I could have dreamed possible. Throwing my head back onto his shoulder, I writhed in his arms, reaching behind me to grip his twin buttocks, I exploded, spilling my love onto the sheets and Josh's hand. Limp, I left his arms, and lay upon the bed. Straddling my chest, he moved his mouth onto my soft member. Licking and sucking my flaccid love made me spasm with pleasure, even as I brought my tongue to his beautiful pink love spot. Placing both hands on his hips, I drove my tongue deep into his body. Alternately licking and tongue fucking him, I worked his ass until his throat started to rumble deeply. He sat up, driving his hot brown ass into my waiting face. As his excitement threatened to overwhelm me, I stopped him, so that I could assume the position he had recently left. Placing my finger where my tongue had been, I fucked my friend's ass with first one, then two digits. Through his racking breaths he whispered "Fuck me, man," and I placed my penis tip on his hole. Slowly entering his pleasure chamber, I held his close to me, back to chest. Stroking his torso, cock and balls with my hands, I allowed my pulsing cock to slide slowly into him. Feeling him relax, I moved my hands to his hips, and began to gently fuck my friend. Falling to his stomach, he voiced his pleasure and called out for more. I leaned in and pressed myself deeper and deeper into my new lover. I stopped when I felt my love begin to boil over a second time. Kissing his back and ass, I took my place beside him on the bed, and whispered "Your turn, baby." He eagerly mounted me as I raised my legs to his shoulders. "I don't want to hurt you, " he said. I coached him into my waiting ass, and threw back my head when he began to pound me in earnest. Looking at his face, contorted with pleasure, I spoke his name. "Josh, I want you to look into my eyes. No matter how good it feels, don't look away. Don't close your beautiful eyes. I want to look into your soul while you blow, man. Can you do that for me?" Nodding his head, he peered into my eyes and fucked me. I looked back into his beautiful gaze and tried to hold on. I wanted to throw my head back and let the feelings wash over me. But I held his eyes with mine, and we rocked, joined together for a timeless stretch of perfection. My orgasm was rising again. "I'm gonna blow, Josh. Do it now baby. Come on Josh, fill me up, man." His eyes widened as his seed prepared to rush into me. I matched him throb for throb. The pace of his thrusts quickened, and all too soon, he arched his back, and cried out my name. I held his eyes as my cum shot into the space between us. Locking my ankles behind his back, I drew him to me, and kissed him again, and again, and again. We rolled onto our sides, still embracing, still tasting each other. His mouth, his neck his ears were all mine as I explored him with my lips and tongue. With a final kiss, I rolled over, and he moved back to me. I fell asleep there in his arms. The last thing I remember was the warmth of his breath, the softness of his hair, and the firmness of his arm as it held my chest. I breathed deeply, and I slept, and I did not cry again that day. I would love to hear from you at Oklahomaman4man@yahoo.com. Other stories in this section by me include The Dancer and Grad School, Day One.