Gay Erotic Stories

After several hours of delays, the plane finally landed in Casablanca at 11pm. Everyone on the plane was a little testy and travel-weary, so there was very little talking as people waited in line to be processed through Moroccan Immigration. As I got closer to the front of the line, I noticed a very attractive Moroccan man in a nicely tailored gray linen suit talking jovially to passengers and directing them to different Immigration windows. His bright smile was framed by a well shaped moustache—not too full, not pencil thin—and a small chin patch of dark beard creating the illusion of a goatee, only with the sides around the mouth clean shaven. His rich olive skin and his dark black eyebrows made is emerald eyes sparkle like jewels. As he turned to me, he greeted me in French. “Bonjour Mousieur; beinvenue au Maroc.”

“Merci,” I responded in my American accent.

“Ah, an American!” he exclaimed. “Welcome to Morocco.”

As he grabbed my hand in a firm handshake, his eyes locked on mine. “I hope your enjoy your stay in my country. Is your visit for business or pleasure?” I wasn’t sure if his eyes twinkled with mischief. I’d been traveling throughout West Africa and Europe for much of the last four years for work and I still found it difficult to read foreign men. Were they hitting on me? Or was it just that male affection in many of these cultures wasn’t necessarily sexual? Either way, I appreciated the attention.

At 6 feet and 180 lbs, I had never had difficulty attracting men. My blond hair had been bleached about 10 shades lighter by several years in of sun in tropical Africa and it made my blue eyes stand out even more.

Deciding that it really didn’t matter if this gorgeous Moroccan was hitting on me or not, I thought I’d have some fun flirting back. If he wasn’t flirting with me, he’d think nothing of it.

“Oh, I’m here for pleasure!” I said enthusiastically. “This is my first real vacation in years and I plan to enjoy all Morocco has to offer.”

Handing me his card, he says with a sly smile, “Well then, take my card. I am with the Tourist Board. Call me if I can be of any service. My cell number is on the bottom.”

Before I could say anything more, an immigration official freed up and I was called forward to begin the entry process into the country. As I looked back at the handsome man who’d just handed me his card, he was already in an animated conversation with a young blond Frenchwoman who was flirting with him as shamelessly as I had been.

About 45 minutes later, I was standing around the luggage carousel, waiting in vain for my luggage to come down. After all the bags had come through, mine was still no where in sight. I spent the next hour at the lost luggage office trying to make a claim. While sitting in the chair by the manager’s door looking angry and exhausted, I heard a familiar voice.

“My Friend, are you still here?”

I looked up and couldn’t help but smile at this beautiful man. “They’ve lost my luggage. I’m trying to make a claim.”

“Monsieur, dites-moi votre surname encore une fois,” the lost luggage manager asked me again. After giving it to him for the 10th time, he said, “You are in luck. We’ve found your bag at carousel 15. It has your name on the tags. You can pick it up there.”

That was the best thing I’d heard all night… well at least up to that point.

“Wonderful,” my handsome friend from the Moroccan Tourist Board said. “I shall show you the way.”

“Thanks for taking the time to help me …” I said as I searched my head for his name.

“It’s Aziz,” he said with a chuckle. Then sliding his arm around my shoulder, “What, you didn’t look at my card? I’m hurt.” As he said this, he gave a fake pout that made me melt and he playfully squeezed my shoulder. So, I’m a sucker for attention. But there were other parts of me aching for attention. As we walked toward carousel 15, Aziz did not remove his arm from around my shoulders.

After locating my bag, Aziz found me a taxi. I had told him that I hadn’t yet made a reservation, so he suggested the Sheraton, as they would have rooms available. Leaning into the cab, he gave my knee a little squeeze. “Call me on my cell phone once you get there. I want to make sure you’ve got a room. I can suggest another hotel if the Sheraton is full.”

“Thanks, I will.”

Aziz was right and I was able to get a room. I was so tired and just wanted to jump into bed. But I needed to shower first. As I emptied my pockets, I discovered Aziz’s card again. I’d said I would call him. I thought to myself, “Well, it would be nice to hear his voice one more time. That sexy French - Arab accent would give me lots to jack off too.

I picked up the phone and dialed his number.

“Allo?” the sexy voice crooned.

“Hello, Aziz? This is Mike.”

“Ah, my lovely American... were you able to find a room?”

Did he say lovely?!? “Yes,” I replied. “I’m just settling in now. I’m just about to jump into the shower.”

“That’s good my friend, you never know who you may meet in your dreams.”

Okay, I was getting a really strong vibe from this guy. So I decided to give it a shot and see if I got anything. If not, I’d never seem him again anyway.

“But after my shower, I was going to have a drink. Why don’t you stop by the hotel and join me?”

Without hesitation, he said, “Of course.”

Before I could say that I’d meet him in the bar, he had hung up. This is his town, I thought to myself. Of course he knows where the bar is.

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror as I undressed. The last few years, I’d worked hard at getting myself into shape. While I’m no underwear model, I have an athletic build. The start of a six-pack is visible underneath my moderately hairy stomach. My strong and meaty pecs are also hairy. I’d had plenty of friends who shaved their chests to try to look more defined. But I was always a fan of a hairy chest. I found it sexy masculine… and I didn’t get many complaints.

Aziz was on my mind while I soaped myself up. The thought of his naked olive skin was making my cock start to twitch. It began to grow semi-hard as I wondered how much, if any, of that gorgeous skin was covered in his ebony black hair. I imagined that he’d have only a light dusting on his chest and stomach, with a well defined happy trail leading to the grand prize. My cock was close to fully hard at this point, when I heard a knock at the door.

Shit, who could that be, I wondered? I quickly turned off the water and wrapped a towel around my waste. I walked over to the door, every step dripping on the carpet. I swung open the door without looking, and there was Aziz, standing in the hallway.

“Aziz,” I said, shocked. “How did you know what room I was in?”

“I have many friends,” he said as he stared at my dripping chest. “One works here and he found out what room you were in for me.” With that, he came right up close to me and put his hand on my chest. His face was now only inches from mine and he whispered, “Are you going to let me in, or should we show the entire floor what I’m going to do to that body of yours?”

His mouth was on mine immediately. As he stepped forward, his kiss, his tongue and the gentle force from his hand on my chest pushed me backwards has he other hand encircled me from behind. He was in complete control as he guided me back into the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, the hand on my chest traced its way down across my stomach and released the towel from around my waist.

He broke off the kiss and stepped back to look at me. “Ah, my American Prince,” he sighed, “You look good enough to eat.” He pushed me back onto the bed and got down between my legs. His hand on my balls and the look in his eye told me everything I needed to know: He was in complete control tonight and I was in for the ride of my life!

His supple, full lips slowly parted as his red, wet tongue inched out of his mouth and started to tickle the tip of my cock head. The first touch of his tongue sent shockwaves of pleasure through my entire body and I lay back onto the bed as Aziz worked me over. His hot breath and the gentle touch of his tongue and lips teased up and down the full length of my cock. He was making sure I was completely aware of his movements at all times, yet managed to make very little actual contact with my dick. He held back, teasing me, tantalizing me, torturing me with anticipation.

And then I felt the full warmth and wetness of his mouth as he engulfed my cock. He quickly took all 8 inches into his mouth in one quick and controlled deep inhale. His nose was buried in my pubic hair and he licked out his tongue to caress my balls. It was all I could do not to cum right on the spot. Sensing my excitement, he backed off a bit. He withdrew until only the head of my cock was left in his mouth. Using his hands to stroke and squeeze the shaft, his lips never left the head. The slow determination and purpose of his movements was intoxicating. I was in a new world of pleasure. After a few minutes, my moans and breathing quickened. So too did his hands and ever-flicking tongue. Just as the boil in my balls began to erupt over, Aziz’s mouth released my cock. His strong hands gave one last stroke and a geyser of sperm shot from my cock and raining down all over my stomach, my thighs, and Aziz’s hands.

Aziz then stood up and looked down at me, admiring the mess that he had just created. He slowly removed his suit jacket and his tie. Standing over me, I could see his small, hard, round pecs beneath his crisp white linen shirt. His taunt nipples were making little tents under the fabric. I was breathless with anticipation as he slowly peeled the shirt back. I had known Aziz was a slender man, but I hadn’t expected to see how well defined he was. It was like he was an anatomy model; every muscle of his body was clearly defined as he twisted and turned to get the shirt off. He must have not had even an ounce of body fat. His body was a tight sea of rippled and popping muscles. Aziz was absolutely exquisite. His dark, copper-colored nipples crowned his beautiful chest that was just as I’d imagined… only slightly dusted with dark, rich black hair, which contrasted with his deep olive coloring well. The hair only began to get thick around his belly button as it continued downward and disappeared behind his trouser waistline.

Aziz rubbed his hands slowly over his chest and stomach, which was more like a 10-pack than a 6-pack. Every breath he took flexed the muscles on his torso. Gradually, his hands moved down to undo his pants and let them drop to the floor. Kicking off his shoes and socks and stepping out of his trousers, Aziz was now naked save for the tight, thin black briefs he wore. And what a surprising sight was that! The black fabric was straining to hold back what looked like a large banana. His cock was much larger than I’d imagined and was growing ever bigger right before my eyes. My own cock began to come to life again at the sight of it.

Hooking his thumbs into the band of his briefs, he tugged them down and released his scepter, which sprung to life, throbbing in the air with each of his heartbeats. The pre-show was over; now it was time for the real games to begin.

Aziz crawled onto the bed and guided me into a sitting position with my back and head against the wall. He knelt in front of me with that gorgeous cobra of a cock poised just centimeters from my mouth. Placing his left hand on the wall above my head for support, Aziz slipped his right hand behind the base of my head, cradling it as he pushed his pelvis forward. My lips parted immediately as he expertly guided all 11 inches of his cock into my throat in one determined motion. All along, he whispered and gasped pleasure and instructions. “Ah, baby, your mouth feels so good. That’s it, relax your throat. Just take it all in… ya… you like that don’t you baby? Breathe through your nose and feel every centimeter of Aziz’s big cock.” After he was completely embedded down my throat, he slowly began to pull back until finally his cock head rested on my tongue, just inside my lips.

“That was good baby. I love the way you make my cock feel. Allah made this snake especially for that pretty American mouth of yours. Now that we’ve warmed you up and shown that we can do it, Aziz is going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours. You gonna take it like the man I know you are my sexy friend?” The look in my eyes was all the answer he needed, or expected with his fat cock head still stuffed in my mouth. “Good boy” was all he said as he started sliding that monster back into my waiting gullet. With each in and out thrust, he started to pick up more and more speed and force. His cock was filling my mouth and throat so completely that I was completely aware of his entire size and being. My mouth was indeed made especially for his cock. And his expert hand on the back of my head tilted and guided my position so that I hardly ever choked on that massive tool as it invaded my throat.

“Oh yeah, baby. You love having Aziz’s hard cock plugging your mouth, don’t you? You love me fucking your face. That’s it boy. You’re mine now. You belong to Aziz now.” He continued to fuck my mouth, harder and faster for what seemed like hours of pure joy. He maintained his right hand behind my head to keep it from slamming in to the wall with each of his thrusts. His chest glistened with beaded sweat has his entire frame hovered over me, supported only by his left hand on the wall and his cock in my mouth. Aziz’s moans and grunts let me know that he was enjoying my mouth as much as I was loving his cock. As Aziz’s moaning began to get louder and quicker, he suddenly withdrew completely from my mouth.

“I’m not going to let it end here,” he explained. “I haven’t ridden your ass yet. He bent down and kissed me passionately, his tongue replacing the emptiness left by his throbbing sword. He lay on top of me, kissing me four several minutes. Never did he loose his erection. I could feel this throbbing presence between my legs the whole time.

Then, in one quick movement that was both gentle and commanding all in one, he turned me over onto my stomach and lay back down on top of me. He kissed and nibbled at my neck, which always drives me wild, as his chiseled body enveloped mine. His hands began exploring my body, starting at my shoulders and sliding down my sides. His ever-hard dick was nestled between my leg and resting against my balls. He was slowly gyrating his hips moving his cock back and forth between my legs. His hands finally came to rest on my bubble butt, which he treated like Ali Babah’s treasure.

As he pulled himself off of me, he drew my ass up into the air to admire it better. He rubbed his strong hands all over my butt globes, massaging firmly. “Ah, this ass of yours; it is so round and firm, like the finest of figs.” At that moment, I felt his tongue flicker in my ass crack as he took a taste of my ass for himself. Aziz went to town eating my ass. It had never been something I’d been especially found of or done much of, but I was in heaven as Aziz feasted on me. His tongue had me pretty well lubed up, and he tested my hole, first with one finger, then with two.

“Yes, this pretty little ass is ready for Aziz. I am going to ride you like a racing camel, my friend. Aziz’s sword will pierce your heart, through your ass.” I felt a liquid running down my ass crack. Looking back, Aziz was holding a bottle of lube and unloading it into my ass, painting every inch, inside and out. I did not recognize the bottle, so he must have brought it with him. After stretching a condom over his giant serpent of a member, he nestled the head into my ass crack and against my whole.

“Know you are going to have a true Moroccan man.” A slow, yet firm push, and Aziz’s cock head sprang past my ass ring. The lube he used must have been something special. There was virtually no pain, and my ass had an exciting tingle to it that only enhanced the incredible sensation as he guided all 11 inches of his massive tool deeper into me. I was now up on my hands and knees and Aziz had my hips firmly in his tight grasp. He increased his speed as he pumped that giant hose in an out of my more than willing ass. Aziz would alternate between slow, deep, penetrating thrusts that drove my prostate wild and quick, forceful, piston jabs that drew loud and raspy moans from him. With his hips pounding his cock into my ass, he rested his chest on my back and had me in a tight bear hug. I was in complete heaven. One of the reasons I love getting fucked from behind so much is feeling the weight of the man on me. It surrounds me and takes me into him as much as he is entering me. Aziz’s fucking was getting me close to the edge and I could tell by his fevered thrusts and his tight grasp around my chest that he too was close.

Suddenly, Aziz made one last deep thrust, burying his cock deep in my ass. As a scream of ecstasy escaped from his throat, like the roar of a lion, I could feel the condom expanding in my ass. It sent me over the edge and my cock began to explode all over the sheets. It was as if Aziz had shot his cum completely through me!

We both collapsed onto the bed and I felt Aziz’s cock slip out of my ass as it began to soften.

“You see what I mean Moussa,” I heard Aziz saying as he lounged on the bed next to me, still trying to catch his breath. “Didn’t I tell you this American was something special?” I looked up to see who he was talking to and there, just inside the door, was an enormous wall of a black man. As slender and finely chiseled as Aziz was, Moussa was the exact opposite. His bellman’s uniform was bursting at the seams as waves of rolling muscles went on for days. This man must have been at least 6’6” and 300 pounds of solid man. He was literally an ebony Hercules.

Aziz leaned over and whispered into my ear, “I told you I had a friend who worked here. This is Moussa, and I told him that if he gave me your room number, he could have you when I was finished.”

I should have been pissed off at the way Aziz was treating me like something he owned, but I was too eager to get my hands on Moussa to let it bother me…

TO BE CONTINUED.