Gay Erotic Stories

It wasn't the kind of match that people would put together. Ryan was beautiful. Captain of the basketball team, National Honor Society, good family, and incredible personality. The kind of guy that everyone dreams about, but never can seem to find for themselves. Hardly the kind of man I expected to actually take an interest in me, or even speak to me. I had known Ryan since our sophomore year in high school. We had never really spent any time together because our interests were so different. See, I was the kind of guy in High School who was too involved in too many things, none of which were sports oriented. I was the typical arts prodigy that teachers loved and other students loved to hate, except that I got along with everyone. I was confident, outspoken, and luckily, very comfortable with my sexuality in High School. As a result, I was the token "gay boy" that everyone at my school admired like some sort of rare bird. But, people were more curious than anything else, so I never really had a hard time of it. The High School Ryan and I attended was a mix of "Clueless" meets "Dazed and Confused." The kids at our school were the kind of kids who were spoiled by their parents, and it was not uncommon for someone to drive to school on their 16th Birthday in a brand new Mercedes. All the oil and computer fortunes that had been made in Texas filtered down to our school, and so did the social "Cliques" Ryan and I were most definitely in different groups. Ryan hung around with all the Superjocks and SuperFICIAL cheerleaders. I spent all my time with the Theatre people either at school or hanging out on the weekends. So our paths rarely crossed, until our senior year... The beginning of that year was a turning point for me. Years of being myself and not giving in to the cliques had intrigued so many people that I actually began to be invited to the "Brat pack" parties. How liberating to know that the Queen of the AHS social scene was actually being snubbed by ONLY "queen" in school! But eventually I started going to their parties on the weekends and had a good time. And that is when Ryan and I began to become friends. Ryan was stunning, as I said earlier. He was six feet, four inches tall, with short brown hair, deep brown eyes, and two earrings that made him look like some sexy rogue out of a pirate novel. He had a sweet smile, and a body as solid as a ROCK. The perfect man. Too perfect for me to ever even think about letting myself fall for. I knew that he would never go for someone like me. I was only just shy of six feet tall, with brown hair, blue eyes, and a body that was not nearly as perfect as his was. I had had many girls want to go out with me, and it was entertaining for me as well as the entire school when they realized that I was so unavailable...as unavailable as I thought Ryan was. I had never really been turned on by jocks. Not because of their physiques, but mainly by their attitudes. But as I discovered, Ryan was so unlike anything I had ever expected from the captain of the basketball team. He had a charming sense of humor, interesting ideas, and a way to make anyone feel comfortable. But I didn't want to make the same mistake that so many girls had made by falling in love with Ryan and not have him respond. So I quickly put any thoughts of love (or lust) I had of Ryan. One night, at one of the infamous "Brat Pack" parties, Ryan and I found ourselves alone on the deck overlooking the lake below our friend's house. We were talking about how much we had changed over the course of our four years in high school, and we laughed and laughed. We had been drinking some, but not enough to feel anything other than just relaxed. Out of nowhere, I said to Ryan, "You know, I really like being around you, you always make me laugh so hard!" "Really," he said, "wow! Coming from you that's a compliment." With that he moved closer to me and leaned on the rail that I was teetering on. A cool fall breeze swept by and I could smell the intoxicating aroma of his cologne. It wafted by me and I felt a warmth take over my entire body. "Brant," he said, "do you ever wonder if there is someone out there for you? I mean, like some guy who will really make you feel whole?" I shuddered again. He knew I was gay, so the question didn't really surprise me, but the fact that he had hit exactly what was rushing through my mind. "Um," I stuttered," well, I am convinced that the man of my dreams died in a rice fire in China when we were both five." He laughed, and then looked into my eyes... "You know," Ryan said, lowering his voice," I have been thinking a lot about myself lately, and I am really starting to feel like I want a relationship with someone." All I could think of was reaching out and touching his cheek, to feel his warm breath against my hand, but instead I just spoke. "Ryan, I am sure the right person is out there somewhere, and when you find her you'll be really happy." "Yeah," he said, "I guess you're right." And with that, he took another sip of his drink and looked out over the lake. After a long and awkward silence, he turned to me again. "Brant," he said," do you mind being gay? I mean, like, do you ever feel bad about it?" This threw me for a loop, but I knew I would never get the chance to talk frankly about sexuality with Ryan if I didn't do it now. So I took the plunge. I took a deep breath and said," Ryan, how could I feel bad or guilty about loving someone? Who you love is not as important as the love itself. And if you are happy, then how in the world could you mind being, well, yourself?" In my rambling, I failed to realize that Ryan had stood up and moved closer to me. His chest was now touching my knees. "Yeah, I guess you're right," Ryan said with a bit of a chuckle. I felt my heart race as he just looked into my eyes, not saying a word. I saw a glimmer in his eyes I had never seen before. I couldn't believe it! It was just like a scene out of some cheap romance novel, but it was actually happening. "Brant," he said, "um, would you ever like a guy like me? I mean, like, LIKE someone who wasn't a gay guy?" I gulped...I literally gulped, and he continued... "You seem like someone who is pretty independent, I mean like, someone who doesn't NEED someone." "Why," I whispered. "Ryan, I don't always want to be alone. I can't be alone too long, I hate it." As the alcohol began to affect me a little more, I began to tear up. "I think about finding him all the time. Why I don't have him, why I like him I think...I think about you-" and with that I fell into my hands and began to cry harder. In the blurr of my tears I couldn't see anything, but I could feel two massive arms wrap around me and hold me tight. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," he said, gently rocking me back and forth, "I didn't mean to...Brant, I...I think I like you. A lot. I mean, I think about you too. I have the picture you gave me by my alarm clock. Sometimes I just stare at it and think about you, for a long time." I sat up and looked him in the eyes. He looked so desperate, so hungry. "Aw, shit," he said. Before I could respond, Ryan crushed me to him and he kissed me. He kissed me. I didn't know what to feel. I felt everything. I knew at that moment I loved this guy, and that we had to go somewhere and talk. We continuedd to kiss for what seemed like an eternity. We were so into it that we didn't notice we were being watched. With a knock on the glass door, we abruptly broke our kiss and looked over, only to see our friends, ALL of them, staring at us through the door. Some were shocked, some were excited, some were cheering. One girl said "DAMMIT," and walked off. With that, Ryan and I just kind of froze. He turned to me and just said "lets go." I followed silently and we just left. Without saying anything to anyone, we got our stuff and left. We took his car and drove to a nearly deserted overlook. There we kissed and talked and kissed some more. That night I gave Ryan the first blow job I had ever given someone I loved. I knew I loved him. His body was electrifying, and his 9 inch dick was such a chore to work on. But I loved it, and everything we did. That night he drove me back to my car, and he gave me the most tender, most beautiful kiss I had ever experienced. I didn't want to leave him. I wanted to be by his side every waking hour. I knew that that night was the beginning of something special. Something that I would not trade for all the wonderful things man can offer. And all he said when we parted that first night was "I want you, Brant. Let me have you." "You've got me," is all I said. And with that, I got in my car and drove home.