Gay Erotic Stories

The Perfect Stage By motn007 With theatre season starting, I had been looking for a good site to hold outdoor rehearsals for our feature play, "Macbeth". Although it had been done hundreds of times, I felt if it were rehearsed outdoors, in an appropriate setting, the rehearsals would mean more to the troupe. The college was surrounded by wooded areas and, after asking around, a fellow professor, Michael, agreed to accompany me on the search for "the perfect stage". After stomping through wooded paths, it was not long before we came across a clearing: a nice, open grassy area that would more than serve its purpose. Michael and I pulled limbs out of the way and cleared a large section before we both started to get hot and tired. I unbuttoned my denim shirt and pulled it off and tossed it into a heap across a stump. It amused me when Michael unbuttoned his as well. Before taking his off, he picked mine up and smoothed it out and neatly laid it across the stump. He then took his shirt off and did the same, neatly folding it and laying it next to mine. "Thank you," I said, grinning like an idiot. He smiled back and replied, "No problem." The next step was pulling down some branches that hung dangerously at eye level. This was old wood and many of the trees seemed to by dying from the bottom up. Reaching up and pulling down the rotted branches was an easy chore. As I reached above me to pull down one branch, it came free, but it became quickly apparent that it was too heavy for me to hold up. Michael rushed up to stand in front of me and helped me gingerly lower the monstrous branch to the ground. "I think we've done enough for one day," I grunted as we dropped the branch to our feet between us. I stood up and stretched, putting my hands to my aching lower back. Michael, who was looking at my chest, raised his hand and touched me. I jumped, quite taken aback. "You're hurt," he explained, as he let his finger drift down a deep scratch that went down the middle of my chest to my abdomen. "It's a scratch," I said stupidly. Smiling, he asked, "Does it hurt here?" and he bent to kiss me at the top of the scratch. "A little," I replied, sounding a bit hoarse. He kissed it again. "How about now?" "Better," I replied, my throat gone completely dry by now. Michael smiled and let his finger trail down my chest again. Except this time, he didn't stop at my waistband, where the scratch ended. His fingers lightly touched the all-too-obvious bulge in my pants. "Michael," I said, "what are you doing?" "I just need to touch you," Michael whispered. "Oh," was all I could manage at the time. I was supposed to be the mature one, the older one, and the one in control. But I was totally unprepared for this. I mentally flashed back to early this morning: did I put on underwear without holes? "I've never done anything like this," said Michael, suddenly embarrassed. He looked at me and I somehow understood. I touched his face compassionately. "But, God, Richard," Michael continued, "I need to touch you. I need…I need…" Before he could finish, I reached into his sweat shorts and softly stroked his cock. "Does this help?" I asked. "Yes." Pants and shoes and sock were next to come off. Michael wasn't neatly folding anything any more. He was stripping completely naked as if in order to touch me it was necessary to do so. I roughly pulled him close. I stood there with my shorts around my ankles and one shoe off while he began hungrily nipping at my neck and kissing me. He pressed his hardness against mine and I groaned. It had been so long for me. Michael was such a pleasant surprise. I finally pushed Michael down on the grass so I could finish pulling my clothes off. He sat there with a breathless look on his face while he slowly stroked himself. Growling, I dropped down, pushed him back, and straddled him. He had a hungry, intense look in his eyes. Moving around and lifting his legs so that his ankles rested on my shoulders, I brushed my thumb across his opening gently. I could hear him hiss as he raggedly inhaled. If I denied him now, I was sure it would kill him. "Have you ever?" I asked him softly. "No. Show me how." God. 'Show me how'. The words sent a tingle of electricity to my own groin and I could feel myself getting even harder. Spitting on my finger, I glided it over his opening, again pausing only to feel his gentle pulse right where I pressed. Again and again I massaged his opening, pressing in slightly. When I stopped, I could feel that his subtle pulse had quickened. "God, please…don't you dare stop now," Michael pleaded. Evenly, I slid my finger in and bent over him to whisper roughly in his ear: "Never". As I caressed his hole, I gradually added a second finger. He flinched at the new sensation, but quickly adjusted. He lifted his hips slightly and I moved my fingers around inside of him. His breathing became irregular and raspy. "More…more," he begged. When I complied by adding a third finger, his body jerked. I'll admit, I was most impressed with his ability to stave off his climax. He was nearing insanity by now, hanging on by a thread. "Are you ready?" I whispered. "Richard, I swear, if you don't do it now, I'll kill you," Michael growled in response. Smiling, I gently pulled out of him and pushed my own erect cock in. I am not huge by any means, but apparently large enough to give Michael some pause. He whimpered and tightened up. I caressed his abdomen to calm him. I whispered words to him I doubt he heard, but as he relaxed, I slowly let myself slide in further. As I entered into him, and became one with him, I noticed a single tear roll down his cheek. Alarmed, I started to ask if I was hurting him. Before I could ask, he simply breathed, "…so good…" I reached down and touched his cock softly and felt it jump under my touch. I ran my finger along the length of it and listened to Michael's breathing as it became more and more labored. Slowly, I began to pump inside of him. "Can you feel this?" I asked him as I gently moved in and out. "Yessss," he whispered. I put my weight on him and pushed completely inside of him and he cried out; his whole body seemed to clench tightly around me. Lifting off of him slightly, I pulled partly out and pushed down again, burying myself once again inside of him. Again, he cried out, this time, pushing up toward me to meet my thrust. Slowly, gradually, I increased the speed of my thrusts. Our coupling was becoming more frenzied as Michael raised his hips to meet me in a mad and perfectly timed tempo. "Oh, God…Richard, I'm going to…" pleaded Michael and his body began to tremble. I reached between us and roughly stroked him, immediately pushing him over his edge. Hearing my name on his lips as he came was almost as wonderful as when I exploded inside of him seconds later. I could feel his insides gripping me in a frenzied tempo that was much like our own. His body continued pumping me until I was ragged with exhaustion. Gently, I lowered his legs and stayed inside of him as long as I could. Feeling the gentle pulsating of his spent body was nothing short of heaven. When I finally pulled away from him, I rolled over to lie beside him on the grass. "I've never done that before," said Michael breathlessly. "I gathered that," I replied. "I suppose you do it all of the time," he said tensely. "Hardly," I said with a smile. I didn't share with him that my only other lover and I had been separated for more than a year. That was for later. "You're fucking beautiful," said Michael. I looked over at him. He was lying on his back, eyes closed, a sated smile on his lips. "So are you," I said. motn007@yahoo.com