Gay Erotic Stories

Joaquin Kangas was a walking, talking wet dream. He was six foot one, 185 pounds, had short dark brown hair and the deepest brown eyes you'd ever seen. He was all toned muscle. No fat on that body--broad shoulders, nice chest, and abs that would make Brad Pitt jealous. He had been on the basketball, swimming and wrestling teams all four years in high school and had lettered in each of the sports every year. He was every girl's dream date and more than one guy's fuck dream. The only problem was - Joaquin had no idea how sexy he was. He was naive and completely oblivious. He'd only dated a few girls and had never had a serious girlfriend. He never went to parties and in fact, had never even tasted alcohol. His dad was the pastor of a mid-sized local church in Las Cruces, New Mexico, and ever since he could remember, Joaquin had wanted to follow his dad into the ministry. He was nineteen, had just finished his first year at Liberty University, a Christian college in Virginia, and was making the long drive back to New Mexico when his Explorer broke down about ten miles outside of Abilene, Texas. He managed to make it to deserted access road off the main highway and pulled it off about a half mile.

Joaquin didn't know a thing about fixing cars. He was bent over the open hood of his Explorer surveying the inside, so deep in thought that he didn't hear the van pull up alongside him.

Chris Evans stared for a few moments at the site in front of him before he spoke. The kid was wearing tight faded Levis which totally highlighted his round bubble butt and a tight white t-shirt tucked in. He saw the bumper sticker on the Explorer: Liberty University. Mmmm... oh yeah... a Christian boy. Chris was no slouch, himself. He was twenty-four and about the same size and build as Joaquin, except he had blond hair. Oh, and he was gay. Well, bi-sexual if you wanted to get technical, but he preferred boys. Especially boys like Joaquin. He looked in the back of Joaquin's Explorer and saw that it was filled with luggage and boxes. Looked like school was out for the summer and the kid was headed home.

"Car trouble?" Chris asked, and smiled as Joaquin jumped.

"Geez, mister," Joaquin said in a sexy drawl. "You scared me. I didn't hear you pull up."

"I saw you from the highway," Chris explained, jerking his thumb toward the road. "Looks like you need a hand. Not too many people out this way."

Joaquin wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his arm. It was easily 100 degrees out and the humidity was thick. Chris looked him up and down quickly. "Yeah," he said. "I don't know what's wrong with her. I don't anything about cars. I tried to call Triple A, but I can't a signal out here on my cell phone."

Chris was already stepping out of his van. "Mind if I have a look? I know a few things about cars."

"Sure," Joaquin said, backing away from the hood. "I'd appreciate any help you give, mister."

"Name's Chris," Chris said, extending his hand. "Mister is my dad's name."

"I'm Joaquin," Joaquin replied. He was about to shake Chris's hand when he noticed the grease on his palm. He withdrew it and wiped it back and forth on his ass and thigh. He looked at it, satisfied that it was clean, and thrust it out. "Nice to meet you."

Chris shook his hand. "Same here. Now let's see what's wrong you're your truck." He peered under the hood and surveyed the engine. He saw the problem immediately. "Looks like your radiator fluid is low. I bet you overheated."

"Is that bad?" Joaquin said, standing next to Chris. Chris almost melted at the sound of Joaquin's voice. It was smooth and Southern and liquid.

"Nah," Chris said. "You just need to let her cool down for a while and top her off with fluid. I've got some water I can give you to fill your radiator, but you're gonna have to take her someplace and get some radiator fluid. I'm sure you can find a place back in Abilene."

"Good," Joaquin said, breathing an audible sigh of relief. "I thought it was something serious." He reached in to unscrew the radiator cap.

"Don't do that!" Chris yelled, grabbing Joaquin's wrist firmly. He could feel the tight tendons and muscles. It felt nice. "It could blow hot steam and burn the hell out you! Give it a half hour or so." Joaquin nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow again.

"Thanks. I'll pay you for the water if you want, Chris," he offered. "You've already been really nice stopping and all, and I don't want to hold you up any longer."

Chris couldn't get over how polite and nice this kid was. Oh, he was gonna have fun with this one! "Don't worry about the money, man. It's my pleasure. And I'll wait with you. I wanna make sure you do it right and don't get burned or anything."

"Thanks, thanks," Joaquin said, a broad smile spreading over his face.

"So, you go to Liberty?" Chris said, changing the subject.

"Yeah, you heard of it?"

"Oh sure. My cousin went there a few years ago," Chris lied. "Really liked it, too."

"Yeah, I think it's great," Joaquin said, his face lighting up. "I wanna be a youth pastor. I think it's really important for kids to have someone who they can relate to. That doesn't seem to be the norm anymore, though. I was lucky growing up because my parents were always there for me. My dad's a pastor." Joaquin was clearly excited about what he was talking about, but Chris had already lost interest and was thinking of a way to change the subject.

"Hey, you wanna go in the van?" he offered. "I can turn on the air. I got some snacks and some Cokes, too."

"Oh, that'd be awesome!" Joaquin said. Chris just loved his enthusiasm. In fact, he could just eat him up! "Just let me just clean my hands off a bit and I'll be right in. I don't want to get anything dirty."

It was nice and cool when Joaquin stepped into the van. Chris had turned up the air and was playing a Dave Matthews CD. He handed Joaquin an open can of Coke.

"Thanks," Joaquin said, taking a long drink. "Oh man, that tastes so good. I didn't realize how thirsty I was." He took another drink and within a few seconds had finished it.

"Here, have another," Chris said, pointing to a small ice chest.

"Thanks, man," Joaquin said, grabbing another Coke. "Are you sure I can't give you something for this?"

"Don't worry," Chris said. "It's nothing."

Joaquin was half way through his second soda when he began to feel light-headed. "Whoah," he said, shaking his head. "I think I got too much sun out there or something. My head's spinning."

"You alright?" Chris asked, sounding concerned. "Do you wanna lie back? The seat reclines."

"Yeah, thanks," Joaquin said. He set his Coke into the cup holder and pressed a button that eased his seat back. His eyes were drooping now and his speech was slurred. "I donnn…nna…feel so good..." He had no idea that Chris had spiked the first Coke with GHB.

"Hey man, you okay?" Chris asked. Joaquin tried to respond but couldn't form any words. Chris's voice sounded so far away. He felt his eyelid being raised but he couldn't see anything.

"Here, let me help you into the back so you can lie down," Chris offered, hoisting the drugged young man out of his seat. Joaquin's arms and legs had completely failed him and he was flopping around like a rag doll. Even if the naive stud could formulate a coherent thought, he would never in a million years have guessed that he had been drugged.

Chris set Joaquin onto a mattress in the back of the van and propped him into a sitting position. As Joaquin sat there spinning in his drug-induced haze, Chris set up a video camera and tripod. When he finished he went back to Joaquin and knelt down. He unzipped his fly and, lowering his briefs, hauled out his hard eight-inch cock.

"Here buddy," he said, speaking loudly enough so the camera could pick up what he was saying, "you hungry? Wanna protein shake?" He ran his dick back and forth across Joaquin's handsome face and over his lips, leaving a trail of pre-cum. Joaquin's face glistened with Chris's jizz.

"Hmmm... " Joaquin moaned, completely out of it.

Chris slipped his index finger into Joaquin's mouth and sawed it back and forth a few times. Then he pried his jaw open and slid his fat, dripping cock into the dazed stud's mouth. He put one hand on the back of Joaquin's head and began to slowly fuck the poor boy's face. Joaquin had no idea what was going on and didn't even resist.

Chris pulled his dick from Joaquin's mouth and reached into a gym bag, pulling out a small brown bottle of poppers. He unscrewed the cap and held the aroma to Joaquin's nose. He put his hand over Joaquin's mouth and his thumb over his other nostril.

"Breath deep, Joaquin," he urged softly.

"Mmpphh..." Joaquin moaned through the hand gagging his mouth.

"Come on," Chris cooed. "Take a nice deep breath."

Joaquin inhaled the aroma and his body shuddered. Bingo! Chris quickly switched the bottle to the other nostril and instructed Joaquin to sniff again. The high as a kite teen did as instructed and soon his brain was floating in the clouds. His back arched and a low gutteral moan escaped his lips. For good measure, Chris gave Joaquin a couple more hits in each nostril.

Then he took Joaquin's half-empty can of coke and topped it off with whisky. He placed it to Joaquin's mouth and made him drink. Joaquin reflexively tried to spit out the booze, but Chris made him drink it all down, firmly stroking his throat. Having never drank alcohol before, and combined with the poppers and GHB, Joaquin was totally fucked up in a matter of minutes.

Chris shoved his cock back in Joaquin's mouth and, taking him by the ears, began to fuck his face in earnest. When he felt his balls tighten and knew he was about to blow his load, he pulled out, jerked his rigid dick a few more times, and spewed his load right onto Joaquin's pretty face and into his open mouth. At least seven loads shot out and hit Joaquin dead on. There was cum in his hair, in the corners of his eyes, up his nose, and on his lips and chin. Some had even dripped onto his t-shirt.

Chris scooped up some of the spooge with two fingers and slid them into Joaquin's mouth. "Here buddy," he said. "Be a good boy and eat up." The drunken teen didn't know any better and swallowed.

Chris quickly readjusted the video camera and slid Joaquin down until he was lying flat on his back. He pulled the tight t-shirt from his jeans and ripped it from his body. He marveled at Joaquin's smooth chest, rubbery nipples, and cut abs. He leaned in and sucked one of Joaquin's titties, nipping and biting at it.

"Uhnnn... Ooooohhh... mmmmnnn..." the drugged up, drunken teen moaned, his body thrashing back and forth.

Chris looked him up and down and saw the bulge in his jean getting bigger. "Oh yeah, I bet you're a virgin, my friend, aren't you?" He straddled Joaquin and while tweaking and twisting his nipples, began to lick at his neck and earlobes.

"Ohhh... ohhh... nooo..." Joaquin moaned. He may have been saying no, but his body sure as fuck was saying yes! Chris ignored Joaquin's protests and kissed him fully on the mouth, hard. He forced his tongue in his mouth and kept up the titty torture. Within seconds he felt Joaquin return the kiss. Oh yeah... a guy is a guy and a mouth is a mouth. Get a guy worked up enough, drunk or not, and he'd fuck a snake if it opened its mouth wide enough. Joaquin was ripe for the picking.

Chris played tonsil hockey with his drugged up plaything for several more minutes and then pulled away. He traced his finger across Joaquin's full lips, over his chin, down his magnificent chest, over his abs and to the waistband of his jeans, where he could see about two inches of a white Abercrombie & Fitch waistband peeking out.

He tongued Joaquin's belly button. He loved innies! He licked his abs and chest and once again lightly nibbled on Joaquin's perky, pouty nipples.

"Ahhh!!!" Joaquin gasped, trying to push Chris's head away. But he was too gone and Chris had no trouble holding his hands away. He grabbed two lengths of rope from the gym bag and tied Joaquin's wrists together and over his head to a hook. He then continued his tongue bath of his bound prey.

But now he wanted to see the Promised Land. He unbuttoned Joaquin's Levis and slowly slid the zipper down. Joaquin was well-endowed. His cock bulge pushed the denim apart and Chris softly kissed the kid's hard cock through his briefs. He lifted Joaquin's ass and softly caressed it as he lowered the jeans. Fuck! Joaquin was wearing white Abercrombie & Fitch trunk briefs and he looked hot! He should forget college and take up underwear modeling full time! The briefs were just tight enough and were filled out in all the right places. Chris slipped Joaquin's shoes off and stripped his jeans off completely. Joaquin's long legs were muscular and smooth with a light smattering of hair. Not too much, not too little. Just right. Chris pushed his legs up and bent his knees to get a look at his ass. Mmmm! He fingered the area where he knew the cherry pucker was and felt it quiver and spasm at his touch. Oh yeah! This kid had a body like mortal sin! It was practically screaming "Fuck Me!" Well, Chris was more than happy to oblige!

With the video camera catching every movement moan and groan, Chris grabbed a digital came and began to shoot off picture after picture of Joaquin. Fuck! He knew exactly which websites he was going to post these pictures! And the video! Wow! He could make a few bucks off of that. As long as his face wasn't recognizable he didn't care.

Finally Chris put the camera down and crawled back over to where Joaquin was laying. He gently ran his hand over the dazed teen's chiseled, perfect body, rubbing his cock bulge and twisting his nipples. Shit, this guy looked so good, he wished he could keep him forever!

Chris slid Joaquin's briefs off and held them to his nose. Mmmm... virgin boy sweat. Pure heaven! He placed Joaquin's legs on his shoulders and lifted his sweet, tight ass off the mattress. He placed a pillow under his body to steady it. Then he slid his index finger up Joaquin's tight hole and fingered his prostate. Joaquin began to groan louder and buck. Chris fondled his big balls with his thumb and remaining fingers and with his other hand began to slowly jack the poor kid's cock, back and forth, up and down, driving him crazy with pent up lust. Fuck, the kid was such a goody-goody he'd probably never even masturbated before. He was probably as pure as the fucking driven snow!

Chris could feel Joaquin's balls tighten. A low, almost primal groan was coming from his half opened mouth. His jaw was slack and his eyes were vacant. Chris reached up and opened Joaquin's mouth all the way. Then, giving his cock a couple more quick jerks, he aimed it toward Joaquin's mouth and let the cum fly. Volley after volley of sweet sticky jizz shot into Joaquin's mouth. Some missed and hit his face. Some went up his nose, some landed in his hair, but the majority of his own boy cum landed in his mouth. Before he could spit it out, Chris clamped his mouth shut and stroked his throat. "Swallow, buddy... swallow... hmmmm... yeah... that's a good boy. You can never get enough protein!" He gave Joaquin another hit of poppers and a couple more shots of whisky.

Now it was time to get what he'd come for. Shucking off his jeans and briefs, Chris lubed up his dick with Joaquin's cum and rammed it into the virgin's tight ass. Joaquin screamed in pain as Chris rocked his hips back and forth, violating the stud's shit chute. Chris gave him more poppers, which the poor fucker readily inhaled.

Chris continued to fuck Joaquin for the next hour, putting him in every imaginable lewd position: on his knees, on all fours, legs pulled over his head, you name it. The guy got fucked eleven ways to Sunday and was so out of it he didn't put up any kind of resistance. He just babbled, when there wasn't a dildo or a cock in his mouth, that is. Poor Joaquin - in the space of half a day he went from being a hot (albeit naive) stud to a drugged out, fucked up cum dump. Oh, what a difference a day makes!

The sun was setting and Chris knew Joaquin would be coming around sooner or later. He dragged the teen, clad only in his nice white briefs, to his feet and helped him to his Explorer. He gave him another hit of poppers and another long draw of drugged whisky before putting him in the passenger seat and buckling him in. He then drove a few miles to a sleazy motel he knew and got a room for Joaquin. Chris knew the staff and also knew they'd take "proper" care of the poor guy without asking any questions. He placed him face down on the bed and put the nearly empty bottle of whisky, along with another full bottle, on the end table next to the bed. He took a piece of paper from the drawer of the end table and wrote a note. It read "I feel empty: please fuck me." He pinned it to the waistband of Joaquin's briefs. He then put a few Polaroid’s into an envelope with Joaquin's name on it and wrote a note on the front warning him to not even think about reporting what happened to the cops or to his parents or to anyone, or else all the pictures and the videotape would be posted onto the internet. Yeah, like Chris wasn't already planning on posting half the stuff anyway! But he figured that Joaquin would be so freaked out when he came to and saw the pictures, that not only would he shit his pants right on the spot, but he would also probably keep quiet about what had happened to him.

When he had Joaquin all situated and sufficient word spread, Chris had one of the staff drive him back the few miles to his van.

Once he was in his van and back on the road, he couldn't resist stopping by the hotel to check on Joaquin. Just as he suspected, several members of the staff had found the room and hand paid the kid a visit. He walked in to find the room full of men, all passing around one of the bottles of whisky. Joaquin was down on all fours, with one cock in his mouth, another up his ass, and a hand jerking his dick. He was being fucked from both ends, rocked back and forth in an obscene rhythm. The poor guy's face was full of cum and his eyes were glazed over. He obviously still had no idea what was going on. Chris just smiled, winked, and left.