Gay Erotic Stories

Well, Looky Here! My best friend? I just looked out my bedroom window one afternoon and there he was. Our bedroom windows faced each other across a fence separating our two yards. He was naked in his room too much for me to believe he didn't know I was watching. Then, one afternoon he moved his bed over so I could see him lie back and masturbate. That's when he became my best friend, when he did that. I didn't know his name or anything about him, but he was my best friend. Because, up until then, my life as a gay teenager was pretty scary. I knew if I was honest with anybody, I could be trading my inner pain for hostility. Especially at school. At school, the nail that stuck out really got hammered down. We were neighbors who had to meet at a school football game, not at our windows. An offer of a ride home from the game was the ice-breaker, then came an invitation to watch TV. Twenty minutes later, we were in each other's arms, kissing. "I want to fuck you," he whispered, and sat up to remove his clothes. Before he turned to me, he went over to his open window and closed the curtains. "You never know who might be watching," he said.