Gay Erotic Stories

“Hey, dude,” the only other customer called to Zhek, “let me guess . . . hungry and can’t sleep.”

Zhek slumped onto a chair at his table. The guy was worth more than a casual glance; late twenties or early thirties at a guess. “No,” Zhek said, “horny and can’t sleep. This here’s my alternative to sex.” He took a large bite out of a slice.

“What’s ya preference – blonde, brunette, redhead?”

“Bottom, and his dick eight inches, minimum.”

“Shit! You’re a faggot.”

“And you’re a homophobe,” Zhek snapped back.

“Wrong. I’m bi-curious.”

“Fuck! But you’re not sure where to put it, right?”

“Show me.”

Zhek gorged the cake washing his mouth with the Coke. “Come on john, let’s get it on.” He led the way to the back of the strip mall.

“Name's Terry,” the guy said nervously, but followed close behind.

Three large disposal bins made some sort of screen near the centre of the strip. Zhek took the floodlight out with a rock.