Gay Erotic Stories

It all began when I somehow attempted to find a date. For some time I had noticed this urge to constantly have a guy around no matter how odd the circumstances. I wouldn’t exactly refer to it as cum hungry – though this does happen. It was more like I needed to be held and then shagged to say it simply – I always wanted it badly and would follow any cock to the furthest reaches of the city – Literally. On this particular occasion, I phoned in to a chat dating line, which by the way is the last thing you would ever want to do, but somehow it’s a bit gratifying, or at least in my experiences. I recorded my 21yo ripened message into the system and began to cruise men by the quality and seductiveness of their voices. I think my exact was: hi ya guys, 21 years old here, 6 foot, 200 lbs (which I later lied about at a more comfortable 175 – hell I could pass), brown hair and eyes, and finally 7.5 inches cut – big footballer type build and hairy. I was physically mature for my age I suppose – I looked like a 35 yr old bear when I was fucking 21 – but this too has its perks at times.

As I cruised the adverts, one “john” in particular caught my immediate attention. 29, brown hair, green eyes, 6’2” at 220, masculine – no cock size mentioned, which did not matter at that point as I was already sold and heavily at that – practically busting out of my pants at the sound of his rough Brooklyn accent with a gritty tone of voice. Smokes and Drinks beer I remember thinking – I love both of these. His name was Sam and lived in Bay Ridge at the south end of the borough. I quickly left him a tempting message trying to sound as sexual as possible which probably came off as desperation – which it in fact truly was. My mouth was practically watering at the excitement of meeting a total stranger who sounded hot but could possibly be completely hideous with a drowsy eye or something. He replied with his phone number and I eagerly jotted it down on the back of a circular with a sharpie – keen utensils in NYC. After slightly hyperventilating and trying to horn up my voice for the conversation that lay ahead, I picked up my ancient Nokia mobile phone and rang the bastard! – My balls felt heavy and I attempted to put on a heavier voice to sound a bit more mannish in nature – this also turned me on. I felt as if I was a child impersonating Bluto from Popeye, arched back, heavy chest and all.

I rang. He picked up the phone after two rings and answered in a very dirty Brooklyn mechanic type way, “Yell-o?” The sound of his voice made my cock jump and my balls tingle – mmmm I thought. I replied and said, “Hey What’s up?”.

“What you up to guy?” he asked.

I hate when people call you “guy” it’s fucking strange!

“Not much man, kinda horny. You?” I said in an inquisitive but suggestive tone.

“Same here. You wanna come down, you sound – pause and light burp- fuckin’ hot bro.”

I began to notice that he sounded absolutely shitfaced with each word he uttered, but it did not stop me from getting what I wanted and needed. “Fuck yeah man” I answered quickly with excitement. As a side note I’ve always noticed how gay men act and speak exactly how they are depicted in porn – only when appropriate of course.

He gave me his address and somewhat complicated directions considering I was new to the city by only a few months; Subway of course. This journey would take ages I thought and told him I’d ring when I finally arrived to his neighbourhood. I quickly showered, gave myself a douche for good luck I suppose, threw on the typical t-shirt, jeans and trainers and headed out the door as fast as I could – heart pounding.

After about 1.5 hrs I finally reached his stop. I got off the train and felt dirty almost instantly – it was a hot night and I was sweating my shirt which made me a bit uncomfortable and apprehensive to remove my jacket. I rang him for street directions. I stood paralyzed in front of his small apartment building with cold hands – trying to remind myself of how much I love cock and that I shouldn’t be nervous at all. It was like when you’re next in queue at a rollercoaster – yes, but no, but yes, but ok fuck it! I creaked open a somewhat shitty rendition of a door and entered an apartment building which could moonlight as a curry temple – except for the far end of the hall which was more of a lasagna. I followed the crooked staircase to the third floor letter F if memory serves. I knocked three times lightly and waited with sweaty palms and a semi. Too late to run now I thought as I heard heavy barefoot footsteps coming toward my direction from behind the door – I also heard a dog screaming its fucking head off which caused my semi-hardon to curl like the wicked witch of the east’s feet had done after Dorothy fucked her shit up proper.

He answered the door, while placing the mongrel in another room adjacent to the front entrance. Opening the door fully: “Hey Bro” he said. “What’s up dude?” I replied. How corny and American was that? I was a total douche bag then – to the point where someone should have gagged and killed me as a favour. He stood up straight and gave me a once over type look while holding a huge can of Bud Light and then said, “Yer Fuckin Haaaat Bro”. I was pleased.

He stood tall and wore a sleeveless shirt with athletic type shorts – nice pair of legs and arms – goatee – shaved head and a bit pale, but very attractive man. His house was rancid of dog and cigarettes which does fade with time. He invited me in and handed me a massive can of beer to match his nearly empty one. We sat on his “obviously from college” leather sofa – it was comfortable, but I sat as stiff as a corpse dreading conversation yet trying to be “cool”. This ultimately ended with me choking on my beer.

After a short chat about school/work he leaned in to kiss me. It was strange. It was like he was trying to lick my teeth whilst blindfolded – and his stubble burned my mouth. He grabbed the back of my head and began to kiss me deeper with his very short tongue that began to feel like a dental mirror. I pretended to thoroughly enjoy this. The taste of cigarettes was terrible, but I liked it somehow. Shortly after, we got up to move the “fun” into the bedroom and while doing so I chugged a nearly full 24 oz beer, prayed to the gods of cock, had a lengthy piss, and followed him in.

His room stank of Man, Etc – Which I classify as underwear, sweat, 5 socks and a hint of Jack Daniels. With his arms about me, he began to kiss me again - it was much better this time – though still a bit “licky”. We threw off our clothes and jumped into his sunken-in mattress with gritted sheets and dead pillow. After rolling about the slab for a few minutes, the beer beckoned. I said I’d be back in a moment. “Excuse me”. I secretly ran into the kitchen as I heard him releasing a healthy fart – opened a beer and down it happily went. I had to keep my buzz going or else I may recite an internal monologue during the fuck. This is me unfortunately.

I thought my bladder was going to burst as I had a piss into his kitchen sink. Of course there were dishes, but they were already dirtied with old chips and sandwich wrappings. And a wet fried egg? ughhh… I came back into the room and he was ready for action. He was small, but he was standing tall, wearing a condom and a big fuck grin. It turned me on, but I laughed later.

After some repositioning, he thrusts into my hole with a fury. He was rough, a biter at that…into the pits and all. I was on my back with my legs around him – his body, sweat, and warmth felt amazing. His trashy beer breath got me excited. I subconsciously kept hearing the “whiskey on his bur-reath” monologue from Carrie. His large arms towered over me as if he was a bridge and I was beneath it. It was dirty terrific.

Just as we were really getting into it, his huge dog comes into the room and, with a very confused facial expression, begins barking at the two of us humping – as if he were breaking up a fight. Sam, mid-hump, shouts for the dog to leave them room which only prompts him to lick me in the face as I’m being fucked. Out came the cock with the sound of a bottle cork and the dog was sent away.

Sam entered the room apologizing as I lay there limp from his aggressive nature. “Sorry about that man, he’s not used to company.”

“No worries” I replied.

He crawled up behind me and entered again with a nice slow thrust which made me lose a bit of precum into his sheets– I could feel his cock pulsating in my hole and loved every second. He would talk dirty and be rough with me and ask me ‘who’s hole it was’ – it was amazing. At one point he told me he could smell my shit – to which I was a bit embarrassed but he quickly reassured me by continuing to plug away and enjoying the scent somehow. When we finished, we lay there trembling covered in cum, sweat, and spit. My ass was sore, dripping lube and spit and probably slightly ripped, but I loved that pain and lay there with his arms about me.

Sam and I had many other drunken times – we were even supposed to be lovers at one point. However, he never treated me like one. We would always be drunk and I was always a fuck-buddy to him. Insert sad face lol…?