Gay Erotic Stories

The following is a true story of my first (and only, so far) m/m/f sexual encounter. This happened about 5 years ago; I was 23 and living in Houston, Texas at the time. I’m about 6’ tall with a slim, mostly smooth, and well-defined build. While definitely not a body-builder, regular workouts at the gym have maintained a 30” waist, defined chest, and the start of a nice-six pack on my stomach. Not drop-dead gorgeous, but not too many complaints either.

I had ended a five-year relationship/engagement with Susan a little over a year before the time of this story. Since that time I had experimented with guys and began admitting to myself that I was gay or at least maybe bi. While I still enjoyed the occasional pussy, my preference continued to slide toward the other side. Most of my “hook-ups” had been through online chat rooms, as I was still a bit shy about taking the first step into a gay bar by myself.

(Note: this is my first attempt at posting here and writing. Comments/suggestions/criticisms are welcome. Email to hrdatlanta28@yahoo.com. And let me know if I’m on track. Will continue in a few – thanks in advance.)

[HARDGUYHOU HAS ENTERED HOUSTON M4M] I begin clicking on the profiles that attracted my attention for some reason or another. Oh – seem him before. Oh yeah – we hooked up once before. The screen names and profiles all seem the same.

After enough time for others to check my profile had passes, the first individual message box pops up on my monitor.

“Hey guy – nice profile”

“Thanks. How’s it going?”

“Good. You?”

“Horny and lookin’. You lookin’ for now?”

Blah, blah, blah, blah. It’s always the same. Still horny, but increasingly bored with the ‘sameness’ of it all, I search the user-created rooms for something a little different. I come across a chat room that, by its title, appears to be for bi married couples in Houston that are looking for a third. Though things online are rarely as advertised, I’m intrigued and enter the room.

[HARDGUYHOU HAS ENTERED HOUSTON BI COUPLES 4 THIRD]

I begin looking through the screen names and checking the profiles of those that spark an interest.

“Married couple looking for fem”

“Married couple looking for fem”

“Guy looking for f/f”

Wait a second; here’s one that you don’t see all that often: “m/f couple looking for m.” Hmmm.

I send an instant message as I continue surfing through the profiles.

A reply from the m/f couple pops up and the conversation begins with the predictable on-line dialog with which I’m already all too familiar. However, after exchanging pictures with each other, the conversation begins turning more personable though not entirely sexual in nature.

I soon discover that I’m chatting with the husband of the couple. He says that he’s bi and that he and his wife like messing around with other guys from time to time. For some reason he seems sincere when telling me that they have only done so two times.

I go back to the pictures that he sent a few minutes ago for a second look. Based on those, our conversation thus far, and the info in their profile: I conclude that they are both about my age, attractive, and live 15 to 20 minutes from me.

He and I continue to converse until the frequency of our replies tells me that we’ve both ceased chatting with others in the room and have each other’s full attention. This is rare, indeed.

I become increasingly intrigued by him/them as we chat not only about things sexual in nature, but things in general as well. We find common items of interest between him and me and between his wife and me as well.

After about 30 minutes of conversation he says that he has to go pick his wife up from her job at a retail store. He asks if I’d be interested in meeting them for a drink if his wife agrees.

“Sure,” I reply. Oh well – never hear from them again, I think. I’m free-balling in my jeans (complete with a couple of small holes in strategic locations) and my semi-hard dick jumps a bit when gives me his phone number and asks that I call them in about 20 minutes.

Probably a fake or incorrect number. “No problem,” I type as I glance at the current time.

I try not to get my hopes up about actually hooking up with them as he logs off and I begin surfing around elsewhere. My cock twitches again and I feel it in my jeans as it tents and falls back to my leg. I realize that I’m considering the possibilities while staring blankly at the images on my monitor.

“What the fuck,” I think to myself. I turn off the computer and go jump in the shower just in case I do talk to them again.

It’s been about 25 minutes. “Should I even try to call?”

I pick up the phone and dial the number he gave me. It’s picked up on the third ring and a female voice says, “Hello?”

“Ummm. Jennifer?” I inquire.

“Yes. Is this Jim?”

“Yeah. I – ummm – was talking to Steve on-line a little earlier,” I reply

She says, “I know – he printed out your conversation for me. You sound like a nice guy.”

My heart speeds up a beat or two and the towel that I’m wearing ‘tents’ out a little as I feel the blood drain from my head into my dick. I sit down on the corner of the bed.

“So do you two, based on what Steve told me,” is all I can manage. She’s thinking I’m a real stud now – yeah, right.

After a pause that seems to last an eternity, she says, “Well I’m up for a drink if you and Steve are.”

I hear some muted conversation between them as she hands him the phone. “Jim? Want to meet us at the upstairs bar at Café Adobe in about 30 minutes? I think that it’s about halfway between us. You know where it is?”

“Sure do. Sounds good to me.”

“Listen,” he says, “there’s no expectations on either side. We’ll just meet for a drink and talk for a few. If it doesn’t go beyond that for whatever reason, no questions asked from anyone – that okay?”

“And if we determine that we’re not all freaks or anything?” I ask with a note of humor in my voice.

“That’s what we’re counting on,” he quips. I smile to myself as I hang up the phone.

I slip back into my jeans and finish getting dressed. I love the way my half-hard cock feels bouncing around inside my jeans when I free-ball. I’m sure to leave my shirt un-tucked to hide the bulge that’s already growing in my crotch.

I leave the top off my jeep and expose the bulge for those interested in looking as I drive over to Café Adobe. Because I’m somewhat nervous, my cock’s still only at half-mast. Between shifting gears, I rest my hand on my right leg and inconspicuously roll my cock back and forth as it bounces around a bit down the right leg of my jeans.

As I pull into the parking lot, I feel a few loose butterflies in the pit of my stomach as I get closer to realizing a long-time fantasy that I’ve had. Maybe. Real-life not typically consistent with online pics and conversation, I remind myself.

My cock must not like those butterflies; I feel it retreat to its flaccid state as I open the door and enter the restaurant.

To be continued…