Gay Erotic Stories

Grandpa has a fat and hairy body. He is bald on top with a ratty looking gray hair fringe that hangs in a U-shape round his bald patch. He’s got piggy little eyes, a big, red-and-blue veined nose and a mean little mouth with wet, purplish lips that always seem to be pouting. Behind them, he wears false teeth. Well, some of the time he wears false teeth. Underneath his fat, blubbery neck there are two vast, sagging tits that flop around his distended stomach, which in turn hangs over and almost totally obscures his groin. A pathetic little prick, about the size of a peanut when it’s un-engorged, flops round a pair of dark, hairy balls that disappear between a couple of surprisingly spindly legs. He’s got hair all over his front, hair all over his back and hair on his ass. The only place there isn’t any hair is round his cock, mainly because he keeps it shaved – a distinctly odd piece of hygiene on a body that stinks as bad as it looks.

His eldest son, my uncle Ibrahim, is different. He’s as skinny as Grandpa is fat, glabrous as much as his Father is hairy – but with a full head of hair. Ibrahim has oddly large eyes, black and anonymous, that sit close together on top of a long, aquiline nose that hangs over a thin-lipped mouth, which never seems to smile. This could have something to do with the fact that Uncle Ibrahim has rotten teeth which, combined with the fact that he never seems to brush them (let alone floss), gives him a breath that would fell a horse in mid-gallop. His chest is concave and narrow, while his stomach is a curious little round ball that almost makes him look like he’s pregnant. Beneath his gut, a long, skinny cock and a pair of pendulous, sagging balls swing around, almost down to his knees. If you had to sum him up you’d call him a bit scary. And he is. There are days when Uncle Ibrahim walks pretty close to the edge of reality.

My own Daddy, Moishe, has a bit of both of them in him, to coin a phrase. He’s fairly tall, he’s got plenty of hair on his head, which he wears in a mullet. There’s hardly any hair on his chest or back but a forest of it that starts below his waist and goes all the way to his ankles – back and front. His bush is so dense around his ass-crack that he has to keep it shaved – just in order to let him wipe himself without pulling out a handful of hair every time he takes a shit. Like both the others, his hair and his eyes are black. My Daddy has, what people sometimes call, “even features”, meaning they more or less match on both sides. But this doesn’t obscure the fact that he’s butt-ugly. His features are coarse and his mouth looks as if it is fixed in a perpetual snarl. And where Grandpa’s flaccid dick barely exists and Uncle Ibrahim’s is long enough to tie a parcel with, Daddy’s wang is a respectable eight inches or so with a propensity to curve upwards when its erect, pointing backwards into his navel.

Which reminds me to mention that Grandpa’s cock transforms itself when it is hard. The little peanut in the fat forest becomes a handy rod of iron a good seven inches long when he’s got it up. Which is pretty often.

See, the reason I have all this intimate information about my male family members is that they spend most of their time bare-assed naked, sitting round the house, looking at TV, staring out the windows and jerking off in between times until one of them can be prevailed on to get dressed, go outside and grab some poor guys off the streets so they can “express themselves” sexually.

This kind of behaviour has been going on forever, as far as I can tell. Even when Uncle Ibrahim and my Daddy were married to their wives, the women were expected to cope with the fact there were three naked men sloping off round the house, dragging men and boys back home whenever they could to go a few rounds on the living room floor with them. No surprise that none of the women stuck round. Grandpa’s wife (I don’t call her Grandma because I never saw her) gave up on him after the two boys were born. Ibrahim’s wife lasted about two days and chucked it in and my Mother – may her name be praised – lasted long enough to give birth to me before fleeing into the night just before one Christmas when the three men decided to rape a Santa Claus they had hijacked from bell-ringing duties outside Macy’s.

My Mother did leave me one lasting legacy – some reasonable looks. Which is to say, I look pretty normal: fairish hair, hazel eyes, 5ft 10 inches tall, slim build and, praise God, not hairy at all. Just average.

One thing I have to admit about my family – not one of them tried to molest me while I was growing up. But neither did they try to curb their enthusiasm for rough trade and weird sex while I was around. Oh, dear me no.

These men were so off-hand about their sexual experimentation that they didn’t bother trying to hide the tools of their trade. There were always spools of binding tape lying around, waiting to be used on their next victim to gag him, bind his arms and legs or do anything else they saw as adding to their enjoyment. Then there was Uncle Ibrahim’s enthusiasm for hurting the boys he used to drag home, for which he needed things like clothes pegs, butterfly clips, cigarettes and candles as well as a range of food items ranging from Lebanese cucumbers and marrows (good for loosening up their crappers, he said) to pigs livers and calves’ heads.

My uncle didn’t believe in using things like KY or Vaseline – he said they stopped the pleasure he got from direct, skin-on-skin friction when his mammoth cock would surge up some poor bastard’s asshole.

Grandpa was not as violent. His greatest pleasure was to haul home grown men who he could humiliate by forcing them to do baby things, like crapping in their own pants. Sometimes he would hold little classes where he “taught” men to use baby potties and where he pretended to be their “Mommy”, using the threat of a few rounds with Uncle Ibrahim to force them to suckle on “Mommy’s special titty” – the cheesy little prick he kept buried in the folds of fat in his groin. I guess he thought he was adding to his persona as a “Mommy” by dressing up in huge women’s sundresses, which, no matter how large their size, never managed to fully cover his bloated body.

My Daddy, on the other hand, was comparatively normal. He just liked shaving all the hair off the boys he brought home and then forcing them to lick and suck on his densely haired cock and balls. He really seemed to enjoy pissing on their hairless bodies and then having the boys piss down his throat. Strange to say, quite a few of the boys he brought home seemed to enjoy this performance. Some of them even turned on to him because he looked so ugly.

A few of the men Grandpa dragged home ended up enjoying themselves and even started to turn on to the old man’s disgusting body. Which is more than you can say about the reaction of the boys who suffered under Uncle Ibrahim. When he let them out the door, covered in cigarette burns, bruises and blood, they ran (or hobbled) away as fast as they could.

The really odd thing is that not one of them seems to have ever complained to the cops. Which may have been just as well, since quite a few of the local constabulary were regular visitors to the house where they often joined in the fun. I never saw one of them submit himself to Uncle Ibrahim, however.

It may sound strange to you, but I grew up in this environment without it ever giving me the horrors – or even pause to reflect. To me it was all normal and though it soon became clear when I started school that the other boys’ fathers and male relatives didn’t act the same way, I accepted the assurances of my family that these other men were gutless wimps who needed women to wipe their asses. I sometimes watched the grim sport in the living room with a connoisseur’s eye – but with no real interest or enthusiasm for what was going on.

That changed when I stopped being a legal minor and officially became an adult. On the day of my 18th birthday, the Filthy Family decided it was time to give me a real treat--my very own orgy.

It was decided that my Daddy would take me out to dinner that night for a special birthday meal at my favourite restaurant. To make it a real celebration, Daddy ordered wine to go with the meal and, at the end, he called for a couple of liqueurs to go with our coffee. I had never seen Daddy is such a great mood – he was jovial, cracked jokes, flattered me, told me what a stud I had developed into. It was going to my head like the booze and I was close to floating off the ground.

After the meal, we stumbled outside and Daddy frantically waved down a taxi. Two of them slowed down, but when they saw I was pissed out of my mind, they speeded up again and sped off. Finally, one taxi did stop and Daddy pushed me into the back seat and told the driver to take us home. The cab had barely left the restaurant when Daddy was on his knees, yanking open my pants and pulling my cock out. I was so pissed I thought it was hilarious.

Daddy seemed to enjoy it too, because his mouth locked onto my rock hard penis and he didn’t stop sucking until we pulled up outside the house.

The front door opened and there was Grandpa and Uncle Ibrahim standing in the doorway, ready to welcome home the birthday boy. Grandpa had especially bought a brand new sundress, covered in a pattern of sunflowers, which he’d “adapted” for his special use by cutting a hole in the front, right over his groin, so that his “special titty” was within easy reach. He’d long ago given up the unequal fight to climb out of his drag when the time had come to “feed” his “babies”.

Uncle Ibrahim actually looked quite impressive, wearing a pair of long black boots, leather chaps, a leather waistcoat and a leather peaked cap – with his sunken little chest, stark white, hairless abdomen and legs and long, pendulous cock, all exposed to view.

“Shit, will you take a look at the length of that guy’s roger,” gasped the taxi driver – the nicest compliment I think Uncle Ibrahim has ever received.

“It gets even bigger than that when its erect,” said Daddy as he paid the fare. “Would you care to join us inside for a closer inspection?”

“Maybe another day,” said the driver. “But, on the other hand, why not?” He pulled his cab right into the curb, got out, locked up and joined my Daddy as he helped to support me up to the front door.

“Welcome home chicken,” blabs my Grandpa. “Yeah, welcome home kid,” says Ibrahim. And together: “Happy birthday!”

“Hey, this your birthday?” asks the cabby. “Yes, this is my son’s birthday,” says Daddy. “He’s 18 today.”

“Oh, so that’s why you were giving him a celebration gobble in the back seat, eh?” the driver laughs.

“Yeah,” says Daddy, “it’s been a long time coming. In fact he still hasn’t come.”

“Sheesh, you are one funny dude,” laughs the driver, who has now succeeded in helping Daddy to bring me through the front door, forcing Grandpa and Uncle Ibrahim out of the way.

Inside the living room I try to focus on what’s going on. There seem to be people everywhere. As my eyes adjust to the candlelit gloom inside, I begin to see that there is a familiar line up of old favourite types all over the floor and the furniture: boys with their mouths taped shut, their wrists and ankles bound together, big men in their early 30s and 40s wearing diapers and a clutch of naked, hairless youths lolling about, playing with each others’ cocks. Ah, home sweet home.

The cabby’s eyes are out on stalks and his right hand is already at work inside his blue working pants, giving the trouser snake under the fabric a preparatory work out.

“Son,” says Daddy, “we decided to lay on a beef buffet for you so you can decide what kind of fuck you want to inaugurate your adult life with. We figured that you’d seen enough over the years to decide what really turns you on, so we’ve laid it all on so you can make your choice. The only condition is: we want to watch you do it.”

The cabby is mumbling to himself: “You lucky boy . . . you goddamn lucky boy.”

Its hard for me to decide whether I am still falling-down drunk or whether I have died and gone to Heaven: some weird kind of Heaven, for sure, by Heaven anyway.

“Hey Boy,” intervenes Uncle Ibrahim, “don’t just go for the soft option. You are never gonna have another first time ever again in your life so make it something you are gonna remember always: go for some tough love, Boy. Kick a few of these soft boys into shape and bugger their pink little asses. Take as many as you want.”

“Now just one mother-fuckin’ minute Ibrahim,” says Grandpa. “Maybe he’d be happier teaching some of these fine, older men how to do their Number Twos in their potties and how to lick each other’s asses clean afterwards. Wouldn’t you like that precious?”

But it is my Daddy who takes control.

“Son,” he says, “I’ve laid on this fine collection of hairless boys for you and they’re all horny as hell waiting for you to wash them down with your hot, golden nectar – though I suppose some of them would rather drink it than bathe in it. With all the wine we’ve drunk tonight you ought to have enough piss in you to service the lot of them. And they’ve all had their assholes primed and stretched and greased so you can slide that beautiful big schlong of yours into any one of them you like – or you can have every one of them fuck you instead, if you’d prefer that. Just tell me. Whatever you want, you’ll get.”

“Gee Daddy . . . Grandpa . . . Uncle Ibrahim, I can’t hardly speak, I feel so honored by you all,” I say, the words fighting to get out through the emotion of the moment.

“You’ve all been so good to me, all my life, and now you want to send me on my way as a man with the best damn sex anyone could hope for. But I have to tell you that I want something else – not hairless boys, or middle-aged babies or torture victims. I’ve know for years what it is I want, and these guys aren’t it.”

There is a stunned silence – except for the cabby mumbling to himself by the doorway that “the kids these days are all ingrates, all goddamn ingrates”.

Dad breaks the silence.

“OK, Son, you tell us what it is you want and we’ll organise it. If we can, that is.”

“What it is I want, Daddy,” I begin, “the thing I really want and have always dreamed about, is to be fucked up the ass by my Daddy and my Grandpa and my uncle. And I don’t know if you can organise that.”

There’s a moment’s silence and then one big whoop of joy from Daddy, a broad laugh from Uncle Ibrahim and a flutter of applause from Grandpa.

“Son, of course we’ll fuck you up your pretty little ass,” says Daddy. “And when we’ve finished you can have any of these men to service you as well.”

“And me too,” chimes in the cabby. “Me too.”

“Okay, you too,” says Daddy. “But first, its a Daddy’s right to go first, isn’t it? The droit de signeur as they say.”

And with that Daddy starts pulling off my clothing, throwing them on the floor until he comes to my underpants, which he gently pulls to the ground and hands to my Grandpa.

“Stick your nose into these, Father,” says Daddy. “They ought to get you in the mood to service your own Grandson when I’ve finished with him.”

The team of men and boys in the room is gathering round to watch my Daddy deflower his son – even the torture boys are wriggling forward to get a better look.

“OK men, here I go,” shouts Daddy, pulling down his pants, flinging off his shirt and underwear and striding towards me with his hairy haunches and legs, making him look like some satyr from mythology.

In a flash he is on his knees with his mouth clamped around my hot throbbing cock.

“Oh my God,” mumbles Daddy as he tries to talk with my wang in his mouth, “this tastes like heaven.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” calls out Grandpa – ever ready with sound advice. “Don’t you ever remember your manners?”

Daddy is guiding me down to the floor where he spreads my naked body out against our blood-red (so practical) carpet. He lifts my legs in the air and presses them gently back against my chest, telling Grandpa to hand him some Vaseline to grease up my twat.

“No Daddy, no grease,” I whisper. “I want to feel every millimetre of my Daddy’s boner as it pokes up my ass.”

“Attaboy,” shouts Uncle Ibrahim. “The boy takes after me after all!”

“Well, here goes Son,” Daddy says. “I’m afraid it is gonna hurt without any grease – but we’re gonna enjoy it anyway, yes?”

“You betcha, Daddy”.

And with that Daddy grabs hold of his back-springing dick, yanks it forward and guides it slowly and gently into my rectum.

It takes a few minutes but Daddy’s cock is soon buried deep inside my bowels and he is beginning to pump me solidly as the size of his cock continues to expand. I can’t say it doesn’t hurt because it does – but it is good hurt, sexy hurt. And I’m loving it.

The crowd of men and boys is now thoroughly aroused by what they’re seeing and one of them start a slow hand-clap, beating time to the rhythm of Daddy’s thrusts. Soon all of them are clapping as sweat begins to pour off our two bodies and Daddy’s furry lower body makes muffled slapping sounds as our flesh beats together.

His thrusts get stronger and harder and his big ugly face is showing how much effort he’s putting into buggering the anus of his only son. Daddy moves his body forward a little and lowers himself down so he can whisper to me.

“I’m gonna cum soon Son,” he says. “I’m about to send a blast of hot spunk right into your body so your gonna soon be even more part of me than ever. Oh holy God, here I go.”

And with a wail you could hear a block away, Daddy shoots his sperm into my bowels with a ferocious energy that’s strong enough to light up New York City.

As soon as he catches his breath, Daddy lifts himself off me and stands up, to the applause of the men and boys crowding round. A drop of sperm hangs off the end of his cock and he wriggles it over my face so that it falls and goes straight into my mouth.

“Well caught that boy,” he says, “or, should I say, that man. Now, hows about we finish up with a nice warm, golden shower to make it all complete?”

“Maybe later, Daddy,” I tell him. “Give me a golden rain check will you?”

Daddy gives me a big, broad smile and turns towards his Father.

“Okay Father – your turn,” he says.

Now this, I think to myself, is going to be interesting. How is big fat Grandpa going to manage to fuck me when he can barely manage to put his “special titty” into the mouths of his grown up babies?

But I underestimated him. Instead of trying to mount me from the front like Daddy had done, Grandpa lies on the floor – with the help of three of his “babies” – while another of them pumps his cock into life.

With the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen on his face, Grandpa invites me to straddle his whale-like body and slide his cock up my ass. Which is exactly what I do. And it works like a charm.

I begin to lift myself up and down on his cock and in moments I can feel it growing in size and strength. In a few minutes it is Grandpa who is rising and lowering his bulk from the floor as he pounds his cock into my guts.

The audience is doing is slow hand-clapping routine again, which picks up speed along with Grandpa’s mighty thrusts into my hole. I watch Grandpa’s face as he screws it up in concentration, mentally managing each thrust of his cock and controlling the flow of sperm as it rises from his prostate and balls and starts climbing to the head of his cock. Then, with one last gigantic thrust Grandpa spills his load into my twat, mixing a grandfather’s spunk with a father’s jizz in the crucible ass of their next generation male.

I climb off Grandpa and his “babies” pull him into an upright position. One of them is asking him why he doesn’t do that to them. Grandpa ignores him, pushing his helpers out of the way so he can reach out and grab me by the arm.

“Just one more tiny little detail,” he says to me, before falling heavily on to his knees and pulling out his false teeth. “Thish is shomthin’ real special I wan’ ya to feel on your firsht day on va job.”

With that he plunges his head into my crotch and sucks my cock into his toothless mouth. It’s like being sucked by a hot, wet vacuum cleaner and I have to admit it feels fantastic – a real step up from being chewed by teeth.

“Oh good stuff, Grandpa,” I tell him. “But not right now.” And I pull my prick out of his dribbling mouth with a pop.

Daddy walks across to Uncle Ibrahim as he starts to move towards me.

“Ibrahim, you treat him soft, you hear? No burns or hot wax or vegetable dildos on my Son, you hear?”

Ibrahim just smiles to himself that secret, dirty smile of his and comes across to where I am standing. My cock, which had slumped into repose while my Grandpa was fucking me, was back at attention. I surprised myself by discovering that I was actually looking forward to feeling Ibrahim’s incredibly long pisser make its way up my asshole.

“I’m proud of you Boy,” says Ibrahim, laying a hand on my cock. “I loved the way you took those cocks up your ass without any goo. You’re a boy – sorry, a man – after my own heart. And I plan to shove my modest little pea-shooter so far up you it’ll pass your heart on the way to your mouth. You think you’ll enjoy that?”

“I know I’m gonna enjoy that Uncle Ibrahim,” I tell him. “How do you want to take me? Bending over, legs in the air, what?”

He leans forward to whisper in my ear and, for the first time, I become aware he’s lost that stinking breath of his. He must have cleaned his teeth in honour of this special occasion. Wow! I’m impressed.

“What I’d really like to do is to put you in a sling with your arms and legs tied down. Then I’d like to take a crap right on your face and put that turd into the freezer so, when I take it out and its all hard and solid, I can ram it up your ass and we can both share the same piece of shit. In fact, you’d be able to take a crap with the same piece of shit I’d already dumped on you. But I don’t think your Daddy is gonna let that happen any time soon.”

“Uncle Ibrahim, you’re forgetting – I’m an adult now. I can do what I like.”

He looks thunderstruck. “You mean you might like to do that?” he whispers furiously. “Maybe some day soon?”

“Maybe,” I say. Let him wait and wonder – and thanks for giving me something new to fantasize about.

What Uncle Ibrahim wants me to do is bend over with both my arms and legs outstretched so I look like a donkey or a dog or something, walking along on four legs. Then he stretches my legs out and kneels behind me.

“First thing we gotta do is clean that spunk out of you otherwise your shit-hole is going to be too greasy and my cock will just slide in – and you won’t feel all the lumps and ridges on my donger as it rams into your butt,” my Uncle explains.

So he presses his mouth to my asshole and, using his tongue to probe and clean, sucking as much of my Daddy’s and my Grandpa’s sperm out of me as possible. When he’s satisfied he’s got most of it out, he comes round in front of me and presses his mouth against mine, depositing the two loads of jizz on my tongue – along with one or two other odds and ends he found lying around inside my hole. It blisses me out – and causes a bit of a stir round the room as well.

“Oh boy, oh boy,” I hear the Cabby groaning, “will ya look at the workout that kid is getting? Whata family this is.”

Then Uncle Ibrahim is back behind me, his unbelievably long and spindly cock in his hand, ready to start the journey up my asshole. And, my Uncle being my Uncle, there’s no pantsing around with gentle little thrusts and timid little pushes.

He lines his cock up with my hole and rams it straight home.

“Fuck me dead,” I scream out as the pain rockets up through my body.

“I’ll fuck you any way I can get,” growls Uncle Ibrahim. My Daddy takes a step forward in case Ibrahim has gone too far but is reassured by the fact that I am whacking my ass back against my Uncle’s huge long donger as hard as I can go.

The sight of this rough fuck in front of them has been too much for the crowd of men and boys who’ve been watching my deflowering. Some of them have grabbed their own cocks and are beating them as hard as they can go. Others are doing it with the man standing next to them. A couple of Grandpa’s “babies” have lost their diapers and are busily ramming their cocks up the asses of Uncle Ibrahim’s torture boys.

Daddy is locked in a sandwich with two of his hairless boys while another one has climbed up on a chair and is feeding his cock into Daddy’s mouth. Grandpa has managed to save one of the “babies” for himself and is sprawled out in the corner while the “baby” nurses furiously on his “special titty”.

But the best time is being had by me. I’m convinced my uncle was right when he said he’d push his prick up past my heart – it feels like it has grown inside me and is about to start popping out of my mouth. I’d sometimes wondered whether it would be best being fucked by a cock that was short and fat or long and thin and now I knew. Thin and really, really long is a blast.

I had been pounded up the ass for almost 15 minutes by Uncle Ibrahim and I knew that he was about to blow. His breath was coming in harsh, hacking gusts and his cock was pounding my ass so fast and furious that my hole was beginning to burn and bleed. One of the “babies” got behind Uncle Ibrahim and grabbed his balls, stretching them backwards and jamming them into my uncle’s own asshole. The yelp he gave made it sound as if he was about to crawl up the wall. Then, with a mighty yell that turned everyone’s head in our direction, Uncle Ibrahim shot his load deep, deep into my guts.

The whole room stank of the smell of cum as it splayed out everywhere. Everyone was cuming – cuming into mouths, cuming into assholes, coming over faces. Everyone – but me.

I wasn’t cuming. I needed to hang onto my jizz for just another few minutes.

So when Uncle Ibrahim had finally pulled his big long schlong out of my ass and everyone else had more or less calmed down, I announced that there was one more trick to be turned before I could consider myself a free and liberated pervert.

I lay on the floor and asked my Daddy, My Grandpa and my uncle to kneel on both sides of me while everyone else could look on. When everyone was more or less in position, I told my family that I was about to beat off for the last time in my life.

“From now on, when I cum it is gonna be up someone’s asshole or in someone’s mouth – or in some other hole in somebody’s body,” I said. “This, I hope, will be the last time I every beat my own meat. But I want to do it because I want my Daddy and my Grandpa and my uncle to lick the spunk off me after I’ve come. Is that OK with you guys?”

My three male relatives nod their heads enthusiastically but Daddy wants to know if I’m sure I would rather let him pull my pudding.

“No Daddy,” I say. “This has to be me.” And I star to wank.

It only takes a couple of minutes and the sperm flies out of my cockhead and drenches me in lovely, white gooey spunk – on my face, my tits, my arms and my stomach. Like a team of synchronised swimmers, Daddy, Grandpa and Uncle Ibrahim lunge at me and start sucking the goop off my face and body. They clearly love it – and I love watching them do it. And I’m not the only one.

“Man oh man, will ya look at those animals?” bawls the taxi driver. “How do ya figure one family gets to live so fuckin’ disgustin’?”

He makes me smile with pleasure.

“Start as you plan to continue,” I think to myself. “This is the first day of the rest of my dirty, perverted life.”