Gay Erotic Stories

I’d heard about a festival that they hold in April that was the highlight of the year. It revolved around bullfighting and, although I’m not a proponent of the sport, I was a proponent of partying. And this festival, I was told, is one party I didn’t want to miss. It’d also give me and Elliott some much needed time alone. We were a few weeks into our relationship and it was still vaguely defined. I felt the trip would give us an opportunity to clarify some things.

We spent the first day walking the streets, taking in the festivities, and listening to the Flamenco bands weave magic with their songs. That’s when I saw him: a young musician dressed in his traditional black Flamenco suit and hat, singing and strumming his guitar.

He was a dark-skinned Sevillian with classic Mediterranean good looks. He was a few inches shy of six-feet-tall and had a slim figure – smaller than the men I usually find attractive. He also had long, dark black hair, which was drawn into a ponytail. I’ve never been too fond of men with long hair because I feel it tends to blur the gender lines. But with his dark, soulful eyes and strong, masculine features, I was willing to make an exception. As if sensing me staring at him, he looked my way and locked his dark soulful eyes on mine. For a brief moment, he seemed to be singing only to me. Then he smiled. My heart stopped and I drew in a sharp breath.

“What’s wrong?” Elliott asked, snapping me out of my trance.

“N-nothing,” I stammered. “I’m just a bit overwhelmed.”

“Yeah, it is wild, isn’t it? Thanks for bringing me.” He gave me a tender kiss on the lips. “C’mon, I think the bullfights are about to start.”

I dragged myself away, looking over my shoulder to look at the sexy crooner one last time. For the rest of the day I focused all my attention on Elliott and never gave the young Spaniard another thought. We had a great time, even during the bullfight. And when we returned to our hotel room, we made love all night.

The next morning, I was awakened from my sex-induced slumber by the sounds of Flamenco music rising from the courtyard outside our room. Whoever it was had a beautiful tenor voice and was a talented guitarist. He sang a song of unrequited love. As beautiful as it was, I would have preferred to hear it at a less ungodly hour. The clock by the bed read 8:00, which was way too early to get up when you’re on vacation, especially after the long day and night that I’d had. I looked over at Elliott who was sound asleep. He could sleep through anything, especially after a long night of fucking.

Our room was on the second floor of a small, three-story, family-run hotel. It had the comfort and hospitality of home and, apparently, some very relaxed customs. I knew the only way I could get back to sleep was if I could reason with the fellow and get him to stop playing his music. So, I slipped out of bed, donned my robe and headed for the balcony.

The musician was sitting on the fountain in the center of the courtyard. His head was bowed as he skillfully plucked out the intricate melody on his guitar. He must have heard me or sensed my presence because he stopped playing and looked up in my direction. I nearly fell over the railing when I saw him: He was the musician that I saw at the festival.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Did my music wake you?”

“No, I was already awake,” I lied. “It is rather early, though.”

“I like to play early in the morning before the city wakes up. If I’d known we had guests, I would have gone somewhere else.”

“It’s okay… it was a pleasant start to my morning.”

“Thank you,” he said as he started packing up his guitar.

“So you work here?”

“When I’m not performing. My family owns this hotel; I help them whenever I can.”

“That must keep you pretty busy.” He nodded and started to walk away. “I saw you playing at the fair yesterday,” I blurted out.

He looked up and considered me for a moment. “Ah yes, I remember you. You were with the redhead, no?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“You seemed to be enjoying our performance.”

“I was… very much. I wish I could have stayed to hear you play some more, but the bullfights were about to start.”

“Then perhaps during your stay here I can give you and your friend a private performance.”

“Oh, I appreciate the offer but you don’t have to go through any trouble for me.”

“It would be my honor. I love to play for an audience, no matter how small.”

“How about tonight, at dinner? Elliott would like that.”

He thought about it for a brief moment. “Okay,” he agreed. “Since you two are our only guests until tomorrow, I’ll have my sister plan a special romantic dinner just for the two of you.”

“Wow! Elliott will love that. Thanks a lot!”

“It will be our pleasure,” he said. “I have to go now… duty calls.”

“Until tonight, then,” I said and waved. He took a bow, waved happily and left the courtyard.

I walked back into the room, chucked my robe and climbed back into bed with Elliott. My sleeping beauty roused a little bit when I cuddled up to him.

“Who were you talking to?” he asked groggily.

I kissed him on the shoulder. “I’ll explain later.”

Elliott and I woke up around 11:00 and took a walk through the city. I’d been to Seville a couple of times before, but it was Elliott’s first trip there, so we stopped at every shop we passed. It was around 5:00 by the time we returned to the hotel. We showered and dressed for dinner. I told him to dress up because I had a surprise for him. I didn’t even know the full extent of the surprise until we got to the courtyard.

By night the courtyard took on a romantic air of its own. Dozens of candles, placed in every nook and cranny conceivable (even floating in the fountain), cast a soft orange glow over the entire square. I saw the musician standing at the far end of the yard, near a secluded alcove.

He looked just as hot as he did when I first met him, dressed in his performance attire. There was an immediate stirring in my pants. I thought maybe it was a mistake to agree to this, but it was too late to turn back now. I took Elliott by the hand and led him to our private niche.

“Welcome Elliott and John Paul,” the musician greeted. “My name is Fernando. It will be my pleasure to provide the music for your romantic dinner tonight.” He took a seat on a stool by the table. His fingers tickled the strings on his guitar a few times and he began to sing.

“This is the guy I was talking to this morning,” I explained quietly to Elliott. “I heard him playing in the courtyard this morning. After I came out to see what was going on, we struck up a little conversation. One thing led to another, and he agreed to entertain us during dinner.”

“This is incredible. I don’t know what else to say,” he said, weaving his fingers into mine, “except I love you.”

“I love you too,” I confessed and kissed him.

I felt a little self-conscious with Fernando standing there, but he remained the consummate professional, pretending not to notice. A young woman – his sister I presumed – brought us our meal. The chef had prepared a special lamb dish especially for us; it was served with their best bottle of manzanilla. While we ate and drank, Fernando continued to play his songs of love: lost love, renewed love, unrequited love, and even forbidden love.

Between the setting, the music, and the alcohol, I was getting pretty horny. So was Elliott, it seemed, by the way his hand was caressing the inside of my thigh and the bulge growing between my legs. We kissed passionately, groping each other under the table, not caring that we weren’t alone. As a matter of fact, I was getting off on the fact that Fernando was there. Even though he didn’t seem to notice, I knew he was watching.

As we continued to make out, Fernando’s playing became sloppy. Eventually he stopped playing altogether.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, dragging my lips away from Elliott’s.

“I’m thinking the two of you would like to be alone now,” he suggested and stood up.

I motioned for him to stay. “Play one more song please.”

He gave me a strange look, as did Elliott, but I was unwavering in my request. After a long, awkward silence, he sat back down and started playing another song. I leaned in to kiss Elliott, but he was reluctant to resume now that he was aware of our audience. But, with a little coaxing from my groping hand, he soon got back into the mood.

Fernando’s playing grew more and more irregular as we intensified our coupling. It turned me on knowing that we were affecting him so strongly and I wanted to see how much he could tolerate. Not much, it seemed, because less than a minute later, the music stopped again. I looked up, expecting to see nothing but the dust settling in the wake of his hasty escape; instead, Fernando was standing right next to us, holding his guitar in one hand and squeezing his crotch with the other.

“Why don’t you give him a hand with that?” I whispered to Elliott.

He answered my request with a confused and panicked look on his face. I gave him a reassuring nod. His hand then slowly crept up Fernando’s leg until it displaced the musician’s own groping hand. My lover fondled Fernando’s tool as only he could and I could tell by Fernando’s groans that he enjoyed the feeling as much as I usually did.

I sat back and started playing with myself while I watched my boyfriend caress this stranger’s package. I could see the hunger in Elliott’s eyes – it was the look that he used to have for only me. Oddly enough, instead of making me jealous, it only made me hornier.

“Take it out and play with it,” I instructed.

“What if someone walks out and sees us?” Elliott asked.

“Dinner is over,” Fernando replied. “No one will disturb us.”

“Now on to dessert,” I said.

A devilish little grin spread across Elliott’s face that made my cock twitch. He popped the buttons on Fernando’s pants and unleashed the musician’s spicy chorizo from its tight confines. My sexy little redhead licked his lips and stroked Fernando’s thick, juicy uncut cock, feasting his eyes on the hefty nuts dangling below it and probably wondering how much sperm he could coax out of them. Elliott loved to suck cock and he was quite good at it. He could easily swallow my boner whole; Fernando’s super fat 6-incher wouldn’t pose much of a problem. Sure enough, Elliott turned his chair around, opened his mouth wide, and gobbled up that fat fucker.

“Dios mio!” Fernando muttered. His head rolled back and he let his guitar slip from his grip. It fell to the ground with a loud twang, but he was too engrossed in Elliott’s blowjob to care.

By then, I’d had enough of watching from the sidelines and decided to partake in the activities. Elliott was busy clawing and kneading Fernando’s ass, trying to get more of that Spanish cock in his mouth. I slid out of my chair, knelt behind Fernando and buried my face in his ass. His body shivered as I attacked his hairy asshole with my tongue. Fernando grabbed a handful of my hair and crammed my face in his ass while Elliott opened him up wide to give me better access. I lapped up his bunghole until he screamed.

I reached out for Elliott through Fernando’s spread-eagled legs and groped around his body until I found his belt. After blindly unbuckling it and undoing his pants, I reached inside his boxers and fished out his cock. He sighed in relief as I released it and held it firmly in my hand. It was already slick with pre-cum, just waiting for a tight hole to slam into; and I had just the hole in mind.

With my free hand, I tickled Fernando’s pucker, just to test the waters. He didn’t seem to mind my fingers’ presence, so I slid one in. That wasn’t the first time he’d taken something up the ass – oh no. It was snug, but the way it gulped down my finger and twitched for more told me that he’d had some experience. I inserted another finger, spread him open a bit and spit into his hole a few times. I worked the spit in with my fingers until I was satisfied that he was sopping wet.

I poked my head around the Spaniard’s narrow hips. “You ready to poke this ass?”

Elliott let Fernando’s dick pop out of his mouth. The feisty redhead looked me in my eyes, flashed that wicked grin of his, and replied, “You bet.”

We both looked up at Fernando who was gawking at Elliott’s huge prick. “No,” he argued, “he’s too big.”

He closed his eyes and moaned when I slid a third finger into his ass. “I think you can handle it. Just be gentle with him, Baby.”

“You know me,” Elliott said, grinning even wider.

I stepped back to let him take over. He stood up, positioned himself behind Fernando who obediently bent over a chair and waited for the fucking to begin. I gave Elliott’s cock a few quick sucks then aimed it at Fernando’s opening. With one steady motion, Elliott slipped his dick into Fernando’s ass. I almost bust a nut just watching the little brown bunghole getting stretched by my stud’s white donkey cock. From the whimpering sounds Fernando was making, I imagined that was the biggest cock he’d ever taken up the butt. My baby was nice enough to give him a few seconds to adjust to the invasion before he started plowing his hole.

Elliott liked to fuck fast and hard, especially during the first round, and he was pounding the shit out of Fernando. Their thighs slapped together in thunderous claps that I’m sure could be heard blocks away. I listened to the rising sounds of Fernando’s stunted groans as my boyfriend literally fucked him breathless. They were the unmistakable groans of pleasure.

I watched them rut around for a few minutes before I took notice of my cock throbbing for attention. It was obvious that Fernando loved being fucked rough, but I wondered if he would appreciate the fine art of throat fucking. There was only one way to find out.

I straddled the chair that Fernando was using to brace himself. Each time Elliott rammed his cock home, it pressed Fernando’s face into my crotch. Finally, he steadied himself and started licking and sucking my nuts through my pants, darkening the gray cotton with his drool.

“You want some of this?” I asked.

He hummed approvingly and continued to chew on the bulge in my pants. I had to fight him off just to get undressed. I pulled my pants and boxers down to my knees. As soon as my cock sprang free, Fernando had his lips wrapped around it and was vigorously sucking on the head. Then he dove down and worked on my balls, rolling each one around on his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. Meanwhile, my dick rested on his nose and forehead, waiting to be serviced. As nice as it was to have my scrotum cleaned, what I really wanted was for him to shine my knob.

So I grabbed his ponytail and pulled him off of my nuts. His mouth was already open and waiting, so I drove my schlong right down his throat. He choked and sputtered a little, but never put up any resistance.

I felt his tongue and throat working the length of my pole, signaling me to proceed. I pulled my cock out until just the tip remained wedged between his lips, and then drove the whole thing back down his throat. Elliott stopped fucking him for a while so he could watch the action on my end. Once I got a good rhythm going, he continued the onslaught on his ass. We rammed him in unison, filling both of his orifices at once.

After a few minutes of simultaneous fucking, I heard Elliott growling, like he always did when he was getting ready to cum. He rammed his cock in to the hilt and started working his hips in a tight circle. I watched his face flush and contort, and listened to him growl through clenched teeth as he dumped what must have been a gallon of cum deep into Fernando’s bowel. As he came down off his high, I leaned over Fernando’s body and gave him a kiss.

“That looked like a big one,” I commented.

“Yeah, this guy’s got a sweet ass… You should give it a try.”

Fernando was still slobbering on my prick. I freed myself from his lockjaw and asked him, “You want me to fuck you?”

“Oh yeah, fuck me like your boyfriend did.”

I was willing to accommodate his request. Elliott stepped aside and let me take the helm. He had thoroughly opened up Fernando’s hole, that’s for sure. I spread his cheeks apart and just slid right into his sloppy, cum-filled ass.

“Fuck! How much spunk did you drop in here?”

“I couldn’t help it,” Elliott answered sheepishly.

While I started churning up the large deposit of spooge he had left for me, Elliott sat on the ground and once again indulged himself with Fernando’s tasty cock. I told Fernando to straighten up so I could watch him get his prick sucked while I fucked him.

I’d grown familiar to the view of the top of Elliott’s bobbing head, but this time it wasn’t my dick he was bobbing on, or my fingers weaving themselves into his red locks, or my voice encouraging him. Goaded by the sight and sound of Elliott’s noisy slurping, and the sensation of his jizz coating my cock and dripping down my balls, I wrapped my arms around Fernando and fucked him with short, powerful thrusts. I got that familiar tingling in my nuts and the pit of my stomach – I was close to the edge. Wanting Fernando to blow first, I switched to long, slow strokes to pace myself. Elliott knew what I was trying to do and intensified his sucking.

For good measure, I reached down and played with his balls. I felt them tighten up in my hand and I knew he was close. Elliott must have felt it too because he stopped sucking and started jacking that fat, Spanish dick. A few skillful strokes later, Fernando’s body started convulsing and strings of gooey cum erupted from his dick, splattering Elliott’s beautiful face. You see that done all the time in porn videos, but it’s nothing like seeing it in person.

That combined with the sensation of Fernando’s quivering asshole massaging my cock, was enough to trigger my orgasm. I added my own spunk to the huge load Elliott had already dropped. It filled Fernando to capacity and rivers of cum came gushing out of his ass. Elliott was waiting, with his mouth wide open, to drink it all up.

I pulled out of Fernando’s ass and slumped into a chair, exhausted but satisfied. Elliott leaned back and licked as much cum off his face and lips as he could. I saw his cock bouncing back to life, ready for round two. He pumped it to fullness and gave Fernando another sly grin. Fernando, however, didn’t want any part of it: He pulled up his pants, grabbed his equipment and left.

“Now what am I going to do with this boner?” Elliott whined. I lifted my legs and invited him to deposit his second load into my willing ass.

The next morning, the sound of a Spanish guitar once again invaded the sanctity of our post-sexual siesta. This time it sounded like it was coming from outside our door. I dragged myself out of bed, threw on a pair of boxers and walked to the door. I opened it and standing on the other side of the threshold was Fernando. He wasn’t wearing anything but his guitar, a smile, and an erection that pointed straight at me.

“Who is it?” Elliott mumbled from the bedroom.

“Room service,” I answered then invited Fernando in and closed the door behind him.