Gay Erotic Stories

I thought about our deal. I would help him get a paper on World War I done for class. For repayment, Joey Collucci would teach me to play football.

Sounded reasonable, I thought to myself. Only I hadn’t fully explained to Joey in our chance meeting the gym locker room yesterday just what a lousy athlete I was.

At 18, I had figured out my place in the athletic world of my high school. I knew I could run, but that was about it for competitive sports.

Unable to make the baseball team or not having the speed to do anything more than sit the bench on the lowly cross-country team, I hooked up with some guys and formed a ski club instead during my sophomore year. It wasn’t really a team in the pure sense of the phrase—we didn’t actually compete against other ski clubs, we just went skiing on weekends when we could. We’d find some guys that had cars, pile into a few, rent skis locally since that was cheaper, and drive up to the mountains and some super cheap motel on the side of the road. So I hid my secret aspirations of jockdom and got myself elected vice president of our little ski club. This meant nothing, of course, and wasn’t likely even to make it onto my college applications, but it was fun.

One of the guys in the ski club had been pretty good friends with me for the last couple years. His name was Will and in our junior year he had been chosen ski club president while I served under him--so to speak.

Even though we had both gotten our driver’s licenses at 16, neither of us had cars yet so we rode bikes to one another’s house and would just hang out. In those days, I thought Will was the coolest guy on campus. Smart, good-looking, and with the kind of personality that people would just kind of flock to. Whether working on some assignment from AP English or swimming in the pool in his backyard, we just naturally gravitated to each other and became best friends. He was an amazing skier. I was not, but I was pretty organized so we made a good administrative team trying to run the ski club.

After we’d both celebrated out 18th birthdays, life began to get a lot more interesting for me.

To describe Will as cool and good-looking is really a disservice. More to the point, Will was awesome. Almost 6 feet tall with dark brown hair and dark features, he had this incredible smile that lit up a room. I’d comment that he had a great body, but every guy in our high school seemed to have a great body to me back then.

Will’s physique was honed by years of skiing, both alpine and cross country. He had huge strong hands and the biggest feet I’d ever seen. Size 12. My own size 8’s seemed munchkin-like by comparison. The best part though was that Will had the beginning of chest hair. I was fantastically jealous since I had none; I frequently wondered whether or not any would ever come. Maybe by the time I was 21?

Completely aside from his incredible looks, Will was just an all-around great guy. At the end of our 11th grade year, Will had taken home the majority of the 15 class awards for ‘most popular,’ ‘best kisser,’ ‘best hair,’ ‘most likely to whatever.’ Will’s popularity in school rocketed up fast, and as his loyal friend, I just hung on tight for the ride. All the hot girls wanted Will and all the cool guys seemed to like being around him as well. By my association as his best friend, my own popularity in the school couldn’t help but move up a little bit. I wasn’t bad looking myself, but I was certainly no Will.

That afternoon probably 2 weeks into our senior year, Will told me that some of the football players had suggested he try to get down on the field for games by volunteering to move the yardage and first down markers. I suppose I had never really noticed that humans even did that job. While we were supposed to be reading poems for AP English, Will spent the time trying to convince me that this was our way to be a part of our school’s varsity football team. He really wanted me to do it too. In fact, as he just about had me convinced, he finally blurted out that he had already signed me up anyhow. Will and TJ were officially going to be yardage marker boys. We’d need to find a third to move the first down marker but Will knew just about everyone so that shouldn’t be a problem.

I hadn’t mentioned to Will that I had showered with the quarterback of the team yesterday afternoon and that I had a deal to help him with history in exchange for football lessons. I also didn’t mention that I had an orgasm while standing there in the locker room in my towel watching Joey Collucci whip off his own towel as he walked away from me back to his locker. Maybe I'd tell Will. Nah, probably not.

Somehow I thought several of my worlds were converging on some sort of collision course. So I said yes to Will about being a yardage marker holder. I would do it.

Cool! Actually standing right on the sidelines with a great view of the game (and a closer view of Joey than I could get from the stands anyway).

This funny new feeling I’d been having about other guys for a while worried me plenty. Could I be gay? But then… what the fuck? If this is who I am, then well.

Secure that he had me as a willing participant, Will went back to his poem. I looked up at the clock and waited for 5:15 to get here, the time I was supposed to meet Joey by the flag pole out in front of the school.

I tried to read some history but discovered that I had an erection. These were happening pretty often for me these days. In the morning when I woke up, at night as I was trying to fall asleep. In class. In the halls between classes. Now in the library. Maybe I should go to the bathroom and jerk off before I had to meet Joey in a while.

Pondering what I wanted to do to Joey to lead to my next orgasm, I looked out the windows and realized it had started to rain. Hmm. What would they do to football practice in the rain? Would Joey still meet me at the flag pole?

Studying was useless. I told Will my stomach was upset to give myself a little time and I headed out to the boys bathroom just outside the library. He barely looked up from whatever he was reading. “Later TJ,” he said.

I went inside and found a stall on the end. Since school was out, it was unlikely I would be disturbed. I dropped my pants and got down to business. The obvious sex fantasy for me to think about was Joey. Seeing him in the shower yesterday afternoon left me with some great visuals and within a few minutes I was practically over the top.

My eighteen-year old dick strained toward the bathroom ceiling. I was proud of it. While I had not actually cast my eyes on another hard one in real life, I had heard and absorbed plenty. And what I heard told me that mine was above average. I had measured it a dozen or so times in the last year, each time always starting at the base right where it juts out from the flat part of the skin. It usually came out as eight inches on the nose. If I held my breath and squeezed the base of my cock so that no blood could leave, that increased the length to like eight and a third inches. It was pearly white of course and had a straight blue vein on either side, each of which seemed to get bigger when I stopped the outward blood flow. The end was the most sensitive part and tended to stay just a little bit softer when the rest of it was at full mast. The end was circled around by a red ring like a small helmet. By all accounts, I had no reason to be ashamed of my dick.

I generally liked to use some type of lotion or oil when I wanked at home. Here in the bathroom at school, I had only my hand and a little spit. This usually meant it was going to take longer for me to shoot, but then again, I still had the very fresh vision of Joey and his fantastic butt and perfect feet to carry me across the finish line. I smiled to myself, eagerly awaiting the first of our tutoring sessions at 5:15.

I got lost in my fantasy and had the entire length of my weenie slathered up pretty well with saliva and pre-cum when the interruption came.

The outside door opened. I stopped breathing.

I grabbed hold of my dick as if to cover it up from the outside world.

Fuck! Go away, go away. I thought the school was frigging deserted at this time of day!

Unbelievably, the guy sat down in the stall next to mine. I felt my hard-on begin to wilt so I gave it a few little soft tugs so that I could pick up where I left off when the guy was done.

After like five minutes, I still had a neighbor and Mr. Happy was aching. I had to come. I had to come quickly.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, broken only by a few sighs and a few episodes of shuffling feet, the guy next door was quiet for a while and I thought maybe he had fallen asleep.

What the fuck? It was now or never. I bravely licked my hand to get it wet again and began to move it up and down on the shaft, this time as quietly as possible. Within about a minute, I was back up and as hard as ever. If I’d had my ruler, I bet I would have gotten all the way to eight and a half!

The feeling was incredible. I was just two feet away from some anonymous high school kid like myself and I was jerking off. I tried not to breathe deeply as my pace quickened. Just as I was about to shoot my load, I smartly thought to flush the toilet so that the guy in the stall wouldn’t hear me come.

I cleaned up as best I could although one little drip of semen fell with a splat onto the floor between my legs. Shit!

I wiped up my come and flushed again all the evidence away. Standing up pulling on my pants, the guy in the stall next to me started to clap. Slow at first, then a bit faster. I blushed big time.

Had he known what I was doing all along?

He broke out into full-on applause and even whistled a cat call as I rushed out of the bathroom. I didn’t even wash my hands and let my belt buckle dangle.

I was so freaked out by the clapping that I ran breathless back into the library and told Will I had to go. I would meet him tomorrow in class.

Dashing out of the library I sat down in the hallway by my hall locker and put my head in my hands. Jesus Christ! Had I been seen on school grounds masturbating? Who was the guy anyway? Would he tell anyone? And why would he clap?

I had no idea what to do next that hopped on my bike and rode home. It was only after I slammed my bedroom door shut and collapsed on my bed in total freak-out that I realized the time. It was 5:30. I had blown it with Joey.