Gay Erotic Stories

Well, I thought I had it made: good, secure job, great condo in a building full of mostly young body-conscious tenants, pool just outside my balcony. Then one day out of the blue it hit me: I was laid off like so many others. Downsizing they call it. I had been pounding the pavement with my resume in hand for what seemed to be forever when I decided to try to distract myself at an art exhibition at the local museum. I was wandering through, half seeing the paintings when I saw notice on a bulletin board. “Male model needed, preferably nude, to pose for figure drawing classes.” The hourly pay was not bad, I thought. Could I picture myself doing that? I sure could and became a little aroused even thinking about it. I was an athlete in high school, competitive swimming, and had spent a lot of time in little or no clothes. In fact I kind of liked strutting around the locker room naked, not wrapping myself in a towel like everybody else. With the exercise and the sport specific workouts, I had a pretty good body. Then when I graduated and was not competing anymore, I became even more interested in working out, watching my diet, so that I had molded a better body. I really liked to show it off on any occasion. Yes, I would apply. It would be fun and at the same time help pay the bills until I found a real job. So I looked up the office shown on the notice, interviewed, and was hired on the spot. They must have been desperate; they didn’t even ask me to strip. I was to start the next day, posing for two classes. Let me tell you a little about my lifestyle. When I was not at work I dressed minimally. My usual costume was a tattered string tank and cut off Levi 501's, really cut off short. I even cut off the waistband so they rode still lower on my hips. And that was it. Usually I wore no shoes except occasionally thong sandals if I needed to protect the soles of my feet or to pass the “no-shoes-no-shirt-no-service” thing. That’s how I arrived for class. When I walked into the classroom the teacher immediately spied me and came over enthusiastically through the few students who were already setting up. “Welcome, Josh! We were so lucky to find you. If you have a problem posing nude, it’s perfectly all right. I understand.” “No problem. Just tell me what you want me to do,” I said as I looked at the small platform in the middle of the room with a tall stool on it. “Well, you will pose on the platform and the changing room is just over there,” and she pointed to a door. “I won’t need that,” I replied striding over to the platform. I stepped onto it and promptly shed what few clothes I had on, “Now what?” The teacher looked a little surprised and said, “I can see you’re not shy! Just relax until all the class is here, then I will position you.” The class filled up and I was ecstatic sitting totally naked in the center of the room to be drawn from every angle! When everyone was set up, the teacher positioned me and said I would pose for 30 minutes then have a ten-minute break. After the first 30 minutes I was ready for a break. I had never been still for that long. I stepped down from the platform and walked over to the teacher. “Is there a water fountain nearby?” “Yes, just outside in the hall.” “Should I cover up?” “Not necessarily. We’re sort of isolated from the rest of the building. Anyway it’s an art museum with many nude paintings.” “Thanks.” It was thrilling to walk naked into a public hallway! As I entered the hall two people walked by and noticed me but didn’t seem shocked. I rather hoped they would be. I spent my whole break in the hallway keeping track of the time by a wall clock. I posed for the three-hour class and then the other and ended up a little stiff from remaining still for such a long time. On breaks I would either go to the water fountain or stroll among the students inspecting the drawings. It was strange seeing so many different interpretations of myself. Some of the students would chat; others seemed a little uncomfortable with a naked man so close. For several weeks I posed for two three-hour classes twice a week. Then when the next session began they added more classes and asked if I could take them on. Could I? Over a few months more classes were added so that it was nearly a full time job. On one occasion there were some students that really turned me on, and I began sprouting an erection. It had happened a few times before, but I had been able to stave it off. This time it didn’t work and I apologized to the teacher. “Don’t worry,” she said to me and then to the class. “Does anybody have a problem with an erection?” No one did. “You can draw it or not. As you like.” Then to me: “ Don’t worry about it. If it happens, it happens. I know how difficult it is to be still for so long. Just relax about it.” I was so relieved. I feared losing that job, and I had no other at the moment. I became more relaxed about possibly offending someone. At the condo I was always naked, even answering the door that way. There were some reactions but never negative. I sunned by the pool in a g-string, the only one, though many if the younger women sunned topless, and many of the men wore very brief trunks. Soon some of the guys adopted a g-string as well. I had always hated a tan line, never actually had one; so I sunned nude on my balcony overlooking the pool, grilled out there nude. One day some girls by the pool were obviously noticing me and waved. I waved back acknowledging their greeting. It was a scorching day and I was really getting hot on the balcony; so decided to take a dip in the pool. I went in to put on a g-string and thought why bother. They see me on the balcony naked all the time. So I walked into the hall, to the elevator, down to the pool bare as the day I was born. I didn’t even bother with a towel! Down by the pool I dove in and swam a length, pulled myself out and sprawled on a deck chair at the opposite end from the girls. They walked over - topless. “We’ve been wondering when you would finally come to the pool naked. We see you on your balcony without a stitch on all the time.” Well, after that I stopped bothering with clothes at the condo all the time, swimming and sunning nude by the pool, doing my laundry, checking my mail. Suddenly I was engaged in conversation with tenants I had never even met. So one day as I prepared to go an art class I thought, “What the hell?” and went down to my car naked. The door where I entered the museum was at the rear and I had only to walk a short distance to it. No one ever entered there who didn’t have some connection to the drawing classes anyway. So I walked across the parking lot, into the hallway, and classroom naked, no sandals, watch, nothing but my car keys. It added a new thrill to the job! No one took much notice, and I continue to go to class naked to this day - and even more... The museum always needed funds, and one of the board of directors had the bright idea to have an exhibition of the figure drawing classes drawings and paintings that resulted from it - with the model present - just as he posed for the class. They would charge a hefty entrance fee hoping for good attendance to raise a bundle. They asked me if I would mind doing that. I assured them that it would be a pleasure. They planned a series of such exhibits, each devoted to a single model. I was to be the first. The day came, and in preparation for it I did extra tanning and gave special attention to body hair so that I would be totally smooth - except for my head of hair, of which I was vainly proud. I viewed myself in the mirror the day of the exhibition and thought something was missing. Then it struck me: When you attend a special event you usually dress up for it, but since I was to be nude I couldn’t do that. “What could I do?” I thought. Of course, I could adorn my body otherwise - with rings. I always wore rings at a nude beach; so I would for the exhibition. I put on three shiny steel rings around my cock and balls, a smaller one at the base of my cock, several just above the head, and about twelve on my scrotum. I am rather well endowed, if I do say so myself, with a rather thick cock, even flaccid, and rather large pendulous balls, so the scrotum could take lots of rings. It was a wonderful feeling, cock and balls thrust out by the cock rings and ball rings making my balls feel like they weighed a ton and causing both to sway more when I walked. I became a little aroused, but through the months I had become expert at stopping semi-hard, just short of an erection. The ring at the base of my cock would help keep it its slightly aroused size through the entire evening. So I drove to the museum attired only in my “jewelry”. When I walked into the hallway at the back of the museum, I was prepared to go to the exhibition room when one of the board members, the one who had the idea in the first place, pulled me into the empty classroom and said, “I don’t know about the rings. Someone might be offended with jewelry just there,” and he grinned a sly grin, “Maybe you should cover up a little.” “I didn’t bring a stitch with me,” I answered, “But maybe one of the other models has left something in the changing room.” I went to look and returned with a rather stretched out white g-string. It was a rather loose fit and didn’t cover me too well with all the rings on, but the board member said it would probably suffice. Anyone attending such an event would know what to expect. So I went into the exhibition room full of patrons, and all eyes were upon me. I was to walk through the room near the artwork so that people could make a comparison. It was exhilarating! Some would engage me in conversation, and I got so enthralled talking I didn’t notice that the g-string was getting lower and lower on my hips, exposing more and more of my ringed genitals, until it dropped off all together. I apologized to those close by and proceeded to begin to cover up when someone said, “Don’t bother. You’re more like the paintings, though not exactly, a little more dressy.” Everybody laughed and I spent the rest of the evening walking around wearing only rings. I was semi-hard all the time, even after I got back to the condos. It was the most successful fundraiser ever! I had never been naked around so many clothed people. I’m still posing for the classes and an occasional photographer, at least as long as my looks hold. For a long time now I am naked 98% of the time and only minimally covered the other 2%. It’s a great life! snjn@hotmail.com