Gay Erotic Stories

“This is pointless,” I bemoaned. “How can you capture magnificence in a single frame?”

Jake rolled his eyes and scribbled something down in his notebook. “Is this the part where you hug a marble column and start crying?”

“I know you don’t share my sentimentality for relics, but are you saying that you don’t feel the least bit overwhelmed by all of… THIS?”

“Not the least bit,” he said, “but my readers will think I was and that’s all that matters.”

“You’re so fucking straight it’s not funny.”

“Thank you,” he said, chuckled and turned to leave the temple. As I turned to follow I noticed a guy standing nearby, smiling at us. He must have overheard our conversation. I politely returned the smile, greeted him with the universal head nod then jogged off to catch up to Jake.

“Just a few more pictures from out here,” I told Jake.

“Okay, but hurry it up. We don’t want to miss the boat.”

I snapped a few more pictures, trying to find the perfect shot; and I found it. It was the perfect angle with the perfect lighting and… an imperfect head at the bottom of the frame. I looked up from the viewfinder to see the guy from the temple staring back.

“Hello,” I said, trying my best to be polite despite the fact that he had ruined my shot.

“Your friend does not share your appreciation for the Parthenon, it seems.”

“This is not his thing, really,” I replied.

“Oh, and what is his thing?”

“At the moment, the beaches of Mykonos,” I answered.

“Then all is not lost. He at least has good taste in beaches,” he said with a chuckle.

“Oh, it’s not for him; it’s for our article,” I explained. “But the beaches of Mykonos are that good, huh?”

“They are almost as exquisite as the Parthenon. Well, maybe not that wonderful, but I’m partial to the beaches there. You see I’m from Mykonos myself.”

“Really? Wow! It’s a good thing that I met you. I need some pictures for this article, but I don’t have much time to scout for a good location. Do you think you could help me out?”

“Oh yes! It would be my pleasure.”

“Excellent! Oh, by the way, my name is John Paul… my buddy over there is Jake.”

I extended my head. My newly acquired tour guide gave it a firm shake and said, “My name is Basil.”

Basil was a godsend. He showed me some excellent shot locations and even gave us a few leads on some of the less trendy attractions of the island.

Thanks to him, by the end of the day we had more than enough material for our story and an extra day for our personal enjoyment. He refused to let us pay for his help, saying that it was his honor and duty to share his beautiful island with us. And so, as the sun set over the Mediterranean, we parted ways with Basil of Mykonos.

The next day, I decided to take in one of the magnificent beaches that Basil had shown us. It was small and off the beaten track and therefore attracted mostly locals and only a few of them. It was the ideal location for me to model my new bathing suit. Even though they had legs like swimming trunks, they were form-fitting like Speedo briefs. I’d never worn anything so revealing in public and preferred a smaller audience for my crotch-exposing debut. Jake tagged along to get a good laugh, but after only five minutes on the beach, he had locked in on a bikini-clad brunette and had stranded me to face the crowd alone.

I don’t know why I was so self-conscious. I worked out a lot and it showed, my package created a respectable bulge in my trunks, and I had a perfect year-round tan. If I must say so myself, I think I made a pretty good impression that day.

I didn’t need a tan, but it was a perfect day to take a nap outside. I spread on a healthy layer of SPF 1000, claimed a spot with my towel and plopped down for a nice hour-long snooze. I had just gotten comfortable and was two deep breaths away from dreamland when I heard someone call my name. What was it with people waking me up whenever I tried to get some sleep outside?

Only this time it was Basil. He was standing far enough away so as not to block my rays, but close enough that I could get a real good look at him. And man, was it a good look. I hadn’t bothered to check him out the day before. His face was cute enough, I suppose, but he didn’t exactly make the cut as my “type”. And his clothes were too loose and flowing to get any idea of how he was built. His attire on the beach that day, however, gave more than a hint.

He gave new definition to the term “Greek god” as he stood overhead in what amounted to a bikini. The swatch of silver cloth was stretched to capacity as it tried to conceal his healthy package of naughty bits. He was a little on the thin side, but very well defined. He had oiled himself to accentuate his tight musculature; this gave his skin the appearance of apple butter. I licked my lips imagining he tasted just as sweet, oblivious to the fact that he was watching me.

“Your boyfriend is brave to leave you alone on the beach wearing that tight outfit,” he said, breaking me out of my trance.

“My boyfriend? You mean Jake?” I laughed at his fantastic notion that Jake and I were a couple. “Jake’s not my boyfriend. He’s right over there, trying to get lucky with the number in the pink bikini.”

Basil watched Jake make his move on the reluctant brunette then turned back to me, blushing. “Please excuse me. I hope I haven’t offended you. The way you two interact, I just assumed you two were… that you were… you know…”

I laughed. “It’s okay; you’re not the first one who’s made that mistake.”

“So you’re not gay?”

“I am; he’s not.”

“Oh,” he said, a smile returning to his lips. “Then all is not lost. Do you mind if I join you?”

I arched my eyebrow and smirked. “No, I don’t mind at all.”

Basil laid out his towel beside me, and then himself; both were closer than etiquette normally dictates. He closed his eyes, put on his shades and laid back. I assumed he wanted to just bask in the sun, so I resumed my quest to get some sleep. Once again, just as I was getting comfortable, he says to me, “That’s a very nice suit you’re wearing.”

I turn my head to see him propped up on one arm, peering at me over his sunglasses.

“Thanks. I’ve never worn anything this tight in public before. I’m still not very comfortable showing off so much.”

“Why would you deny the world such a spectacular view?” he asked, placing his hand on my thigh.

I pretended to ignore it, even when he started stroking the inside of my leg. When his hand made its way to my crotch, however, I promptly swatted it away.

“I don’t think we should do this,” I said.

“Why? From what I can see, you like what I’m doing.”

I looked down at the bulge between my legs, which was rapidly responding to his bold manipulations.

“Maybe, but we’re on a public beach.”

“Look around you. No one is paying attention to us.”

A quick glance around the beach and I noticed that, indeed, everybody else was too involved in their own sexual exploits to be concerned with what we were doing. Even Jake was busy strumming the brunette into a screaming frenzy.

“Ohh… it’s that kind of beach,” I said.

“Yes. Why do you think I suggested this beach so highly? As you say in America, I took a gamble.”

I didn’t particularly like being manipulated like that but I must admit that I was slightly turned on by his bravado. I hadn’t been laid in a few days, so my cock was definitely ready for the ride – it grew harder just anticipating sliding into a hot ass.

“Where were we?” I asked.

Basil smiled and once again took a hold of my pleading prick. I’m usually not very big on masturbation – giving or receiving – but I was really getting into him stroking me. In no time he had me writhing and moaning wildly. I reached over to play with him, but he pushed my hand away. I started to ask him why he’d done that, but he gave my balls a firm squeeze and suddenly it didn’t matter.

He leaned over to kiss me and as our lips locked, he slid his hands into my trunks and fished out my throbbing member. My cock slipped comfortably into his soft, oil-slicked fist and he broke off the kiss to concentrate on pleasuring me manually.

“You have a nice thick cock,” he purred. “I bet you know how to use it, no?”

“I’ve had some experience,” I stammered, finding it hard to concentrate on a conversation with him so deftly yanking my chain.

“Yes, you like to fuck. I can tell,” he whispered in my ear, “but you will not fuck me.”

“What the fuck? What do you…?”

“Shh. Relax. You’ll have a good time, I promise, but there will be no fucking.”

I began to protest but, again, my protests were silenced with a few firm strokes. I’d never seen my cock so hard before. The head was dark, almost purple, and the veins looked like they could pop at any moment. Streams of pre-cum flowed freely from the tip and mixed with the tanning oil. The combined fluid made a kinky sloshing sound as Basil started pounding my meat with his hand. Five, ten, fifteen strokes later I was on the edge of exploding. No one had ever brought me to climax with just a hand job… never!

“Ah fuck, I’m gonna blow!” I yelled.

That’s when Basil did the unexpected. He wrapped his lips around the head of my cock and continued to stroke the shaft. I let loose and exploded in his mouth. He didn’t flinch. He held the tip firmly between his lips and sucked up jet after jet of semen as it erupted from my dick. When it was all over, he squeezed out the last remaining drops and I thought he was done. Wrong! Before the last shudder of satisfaction ran through my body, Basil shoved my still rigid pole deep into his mouth. I nearly jumped out of my skin as the hypersensitive tip hit the back of his gullet. I shivered uncontrollably before I got accustomed to the hyped-up sensation.

His mouth felt slimier than usual. I’d had enough blowjobs to know what the inside of a hot mouth felt like, but his was different. It wasn’t until he pulled my dick part the way out that I realized he still had my cum in his mouth. “Holy shit, that’s kinky!” I said.

He smiled as best he could with my meat crammed in his mouth then continued to slowly, teasingly suck me off. It was a wild sensation feeling my cock splashing around inside a pool of spit and cum – one that I could spend all day being subjected to. I wiggled my way out of my bathing suit to give him better access then laid back to enjoy the trip.

“I hope your jaw doesn’t get tired ‘cause it’s going to be a while before you get a second load out of me.”

Basil didn’t respond; he just continued his slow methodical blowjob. Up until that point he had only been working about half of my cock, but after my comment he slid the entire ten inches down his throat. That wasn’t the first time someone had deep-throated me, but it certainly was the most effortless. My pole slid down his throat like a hot knife through butter. The tip of my cock lay snugly nestled within his craw and the rest swam in the cum-and-saliva-filled cavity of his mouth.

He gagged a little – man, I love that sound – and a few drops of cum spilled from his mouth. It dripped down my balls into the crack of my ass. He let a few more drops fall out. He dipped his index finger into the pool that had formed in the hairs around my ass then pushed it – no shoved it – into my unsuspecting hole.

My head was spinning. I’d had quite a bit of sexual experience up until that point, but I’d never felt anything like that before – a sloppy, cum-filled mouth and throat wrapped around my pole and a cum-soaked finger invading my ass. He slid his finger deeper into me and pulled my dick out of his throat-hold. Then, as he swallowed my cock back down his throat, he pulled his finger out of my rectum. He continued this alternating pattern, slowly at first then steadily faster. He worked me into a fit of passion that had me bucking and hollering uncontrollably.

It all came to an earth-shattering end much sooner than I expected or wanted. Feeling my body tense beneath him, Basil buried my prick as deep into his throat as he could. With his nose securely pressed into my groin he thrust his finger in and out of me, tickling my G-spot with every stroke. I blew my second wad less than ten minutes after my first one. It was bigger and more powerful than the one before. It felt like I dumped a gallon of spunk down his throat. No matter how much it was, Basil swallowed every drop. His throat muscles milked me for every drop, all of which I willingly provided.

“Damn that was incredible!” I thought as I wallowed in the afterglow. When I finally came back to the ground, Basil was gone, as had most of the other couples. Even Jake and his chick were nowhere to be found. I slithered back into my trunks, gathered my stuff and staggered back to the hotel.

We stayed in Mykonos a couple of more days, but I never saw Basil again. I even thought about asking around the island for him until Jake clued me in on how desperate that seemed. I’m hoping to go back again soon. Maybe I’ll run into him again someday and he can show me the rest of his skills.