Gay Erotic Stories

Boy oh boy did I do a lot of jerking off when I was a teenager! I still do my share of jerking today, at the age of 32, but back then, like every young adult, I couldn’t seem to get enough of my right hand! My name is Cory. I grew up in the suburbs, outside of New York. I was a very good looking kid: tall, lean but muscular, very All-American looking with brown hair and bright blue eyes. Looking back, I’m amazed my Mom or Dad or siblings never walked in on me- it wouldn’t take much to get me so hot and horny that I had to rush to the bathroom to unleash a load. I had really made an effort to “like” girls, but when I jerked off my mind always was filled with images of hot guys. Usually the subject of my fantasies was some of the cute guys at school, the studly UPS guy that came by every few weeks, or a hot picture of some stud I had seen in one of my brother¹s sports magazines. Like every horny young gay teenager, I didn’t think I’d ever get any real action with a hot man and decided I’d just have to rely on my fantasies to satisfy my urges. That all changed one hot summer day, the summer I turned 18. My mom got a call from our neighbor, Mrs. DaSilva.. Mrs. DaSilva was looking for a babysitter for their eight-year old boy Brian for the coming weekend. I had never babysat before, and needed the extra cash, so when my Mom asked me if I would do it I said “Sure.” There was another reason I was interested: Mrs. DaSilva’s husband, Mr. DaSilva. I had seen him only a couple of times next door doing yard work or fixing his car. And every time I saw him I quickly got to my bedroom, closed the door, and watched him through my blinds, cock in hand, stroking and enjoying every inch of him. Mr. DaSilva was a big, Italian stud. He must have been about 40. He stood about 6'3", had to be at least 230, and had that dark swarthy Mediterranean look that really turned me on. He was hairy but not overly so- dark hair covered his strongly muscled body like a mist, creeping over the collar of his shirt, shading his big muscular calves, carpeting his massive forearms. To me he was a walking, talking wet dream. Whenever I spied on him it never took me more than a few strokes on my hard cock before I was shooting cum all over myself.. I especially loved it when he was cutting the lawn, usually he’d be wearing a tight white tank top that covered his hard pecs like a second skin and allowed me to drool over his huge biceps. I spent many nights frantically pulling on my cock, fantasizing about being in bed with Mr. DaSilva, sucking on those huge biceps while he flexed his arms for me. He had a small trimmed black mustache, and he was losing some of his thick black hair on the back of his head, but that in no way diminished him in my eyes. He was still a god to me! All week I nervously hoped that Mr. DaSilva would be around when I went to babysit for his kid, Brian. Friday night finally came and I went over to their house about 10 minutes before they expected me. I rang the bell. Brian answered the door. He was a well-behaved little kid who looked happy that I’d be sitting for him, and I knew it would be an easy night. I asked where his parents were after he let me in. He said his Mom was doing an errand and his Dad was upstairs getting ready for the evening out. “Cory come play a video game with me!,” Brian yelled as he dragged me towards the den. But all I had on my mind was his Dad upstairs getting dressed, or getting undressed, or showering, shaving, doing whatever that stud did to get ready to go out. I wanted to be up there in that bedroom with him, alone, just to be in his presence and check him out. “Brian! Is the sitter here?!” I had been sitting on the floor with Brian playing a video game when the deep, booming voice shouted down from upstairs. “Yes Daddy!” Brian shouted back. “Well send him up here, OK?” replied the deep voice. I immediately felt butterflies in my stomach as I got up and walked to the stairs. My knees were weak by the time I got to the top step. A bedroom door was open and I could hear water running. I entered the bedroom and saw an open bathroom door with a light on inside. I stood there. “Hello...?” I stammered. Suddenly a large figure filled the doorway. It was Mr. DaSilva. He was wearing a pair of dress pants, a white tank top, and had half a face full of shaving cream. He smiled broadly at me as he swept the razor down his cheek. I gulped and felt my cock stir, just looking at this hunk. The suit pants could not conceal a huge package between his legs, and his nipples were hard and erect and practically breaking through the thin cotton of the tank top. His flat hard stomach, sculpted pecs, and big beefy biceps strained and contracted under his tank top as he finished shaving. Two or three shiny gold chain necklaces glinted and sparkled around his thick neck, shiny against his dark, well-tanned skin, disappearing teasingly down the top of his tank top between his furry pecs. “Are you Cory?!,” he asked in a friendly, gravelly, sexy voice. Hearing his voice alone was enough to send shivers up my adolescent spine and make my cock twitch more. “Yes, sir....I’m hear to sit for Brian....” I felt like such a little boy talking to this powerful man, this figure who was old enough to be my father and strong enough to break me in two. But he was such a nice guy that I immediately felt comfortable with him, like you would with a favorite coach or your older brother. He strode over to me and extended his big hand and shook mine strongly. His hand felt calloused and rough, which didn’t surprise me, considering that he did a lot of “manly work” around his house. As he wiped off his face he must have noticed me standing there, silent, my mouth open slightly, watching him. “Cory, you’ve never seen a guy shaving before?” he asked me, smiling. I snapped out of it and laughed. “No sir, I mean no Mr. DaSilva, I just was looking at....” I fumbled and paused, trying to think of something. “I was just looking at your cool tattoo!” I had just noticed a big tattoo on his right biceps which I hadn’t seen before. It was shaped like an anchor and I couldn’t really see what else was on it. He answered “Oh that¹s the Marine Corps emblem. I was in the Marines for two years after college.” He walked over to me and put his arm over my shoulder. He smelled so good- like a man, a combination of sweat, after-shave, and a musky smell I couldn’t really identify. “By the way Cory, call me John, OK? We might as well be buddies...” I thought I was going to pass out with excitement, having this hunk standing next to me with his arm around my skinny shoulder, telling me he wanted to be my buddy! “OK Mr..I mean, John!” I stammered. Just then we heard a voice behind us. “Looks like you guys have met!” It was Mrs. DaSilva, back from her errand. Mrs. DaSilva was quite a looker herself, with huge tits, and I could see why John had married her. She had a big smile on her face and was holding some dry-cleaned shirts. She handed them to “John” and he gave her a hug and kiss and I thought “That lucky woman!” She said “Hi Cory!” and smiled at me. “Hi Mrs. DaSilva” I replied and John said “Since we¹re on a first-name basis you can call her Debbie, OK?” Anything John said was OK by me! I went downstairs to let “John and Debbie” get ready and check on Brian. After they left and Brian was finally asleep, I realized how horny I was. I kept replaying the earlier events of the evening in my head- walking in on John as he was shaving, checking out his tattoo, his arm around me etc... I knew they wouldn’t be home for hours, and Brian was fast asleep, so I decided I had to do some investigative snooping. I went into John and Debbie’s bedroom and went straight for the dresser. I had to see if I could find some underwear of John’s. The first drawer was just lots of lacy things- panties and bras, obviously Debbie’s. The next drawer the same, more ladies’ things. Frustrated, I closed the drawers and looked around the room. There was another bureau over by the bathroom with a laundry basket next to it. I tried the top drawer and bingo! It was packed with all sorts of skimpy bikini briefs, a couple of thongs, and lots of jockey shorts in different colors. I pulled out a pair of red lycra bikini briefs, held them up, and instantly popped a boner. I buried my face in them, thinking, “These are the bikinis that stud I drool over wears...” I stripped off my clothes and pulled on the bikini, checking myself out in the mirror. Even with my boyish body I felt like a stud, knowing that my cock and balls were resting in the same pouch where HIS cock and balls, center of so much power, had rested. I went to the laundry basket and started fishing things out of it, hoping to find something good. Lots of blouses, bras, panties... Then I found one of John dress shirts from work (he works for a large corporation). The armpits were a little stained. I put it to my nose and inhaled the most delicious odor I had ever smelled. Sharp at first, but nutty and rich and all-man. It reminded me of the smell of our locker room at school and only made my dick harder. I also found a black dress sock all bunched up, and another pair of bikinis- these had been worn. I took all these items and got on the bed with them, pulled my cock out of the bikinis, and started sniffing each article of clothing and thinking about John as I pulled on my prick. I sniffed and licked the delicious black dress sock, pungent with foot odor. I wrapped the worn bikini around my head so the crotch was right over my nose, inhaling the musky crotch odor and sharp ass-crack odor. It wasn’t long before I had one of the most heart-pounding orgasms of my entire life. I shivered and moaned and whimpered as I shot rope after rope of cum onto my chest, my legs shaking, my head thrown back in ecstacy. After I was done I carefully put everything back in its rightful place and tip-toed back downstairs as though nothing had happened. I was asleep on the couch when John and Debbie came home at about 4 AM. John looked as gorgeous as ever, all dressed up in suit and tie, and he was a little drunk. “Did you have fun Cory?” he asked. “More than you realize!” I thought, grinning to myself. “Oh yeah John it was OK” I answered. After they paid me I went home and beat off again in my bed, thinking about John and his sexy underwear and the fun I had raiding his dirty laundry basket.