Gay Erotic Stories

? Things got a little wild at the party the college coach threw. He and I had been making it for months but so had half the guys in the class.....at least any of them worth his attention. Somehow the man lived in a luxury apartment despite the fact that he didn't make much as a teacher. I once asked him if his family was wealthy (as mine was!) and he laughed over that. Whatever the source of his income, it wasn't coming from the university's payroll. He had been dealing in black- market steroids but I never tried them, never needed them. I did share the booze and the cocaine he so eagerly offered to me and the other good-looking collegiate hunks who'd become part of his stable of sex toys. There were fourteen of us at that private party at Burke Dixon's place and when Tony Gianelli showed up I knew in an instant that I wanted to be with him. Just looking at the man I knew that he was a crime-boss, there was something about him that just told me he was. Common sense (as much as an nineteen-year-old has) told me to ignore my attraction to him, but I couldn't do it. He was probably close to fifty but had the stamina of a man half his age. He and I went to Burke's room for the night while the rest of the party continued in other parts of the house. We were like opposites, with his darkly haired body rubbing up against my smooth blond muscularity. But you know what they say about opposites attracting. It was imperative that I pass all of my final exams in order to get course credit. I didn't even go to them, blew them off completely in favor of staying there at Burke Dixon's place for three days with Tony Gianelli. My grandparents (whom I'd lived with since I was a toddler) were destroyed when the counselor called and told them I wasn't going to make it past my freshman year. I doubt that they would have thrown me out, but I didn't bother to give them the opportunity. I moved my belongings into a downtown condo that Tony had bought years earlier as a little hideaway for illicit affairs. Plenty of crime-lords had mistresses tucked away, and I became one of those paid sex-objects....very willingly, I might add. The next six months were the best of my life, with Tony's big dick up my ass and his luxuriously hairy body laying next to me in bed. We did everything (I mean everything) imaginable between two men....and plenty of things that are pretty unimaginable as well. It was a Sgt. Rourke from the organized crime division who investigated Tony's murder, and from the start he acted as if he was trying to somehow implicate me in the Gianelli family business. Rourke was convinced that Tony's fall from the 38th floor of a high rise was no accident, especially since it was a building owned by the Gambini family. + + + I was a well-kept secret within the Gianelli family. While the Gambini's knew plenty about Tony's day-to-day routine they had no knowledge of his male whore. That made it easy for me to hit on Ross Gambel. I went to his office intent on getting some information about who'd killed Tony. I pretended at first to be looking for work. Ross was the favored child of the Gambini family even though he Americanized his name to prevent an association with the crime family who funded his production company. Grandpa Gambini's mother's maiden name was Rossi, thus his favoritism for the grandson who made successful (if not very artistic) porn films. From across his desk he asked some pretty pointed questions (and got some direct answers). "Age" - nineteen (truth!) "Drugs?" - not since junior high (okay that was a lie) "Steroids?" - don't need 'em (true!) "HIV?" -negative as of last week (another lie. I'd never bothered to be tested) "Do you suck cock?" - sure, who doesn't "Take it up the ass?" - whenever possible, the bigger. the better. "Do you shave your body" - don't need to. "How do you feel about hairy guys?" - I prefer them. "Cock size?" - twelve inches hard, four around. "Take your shirt off!" - why don't you do it? Ross Gambel punched the button on his intercom and told the dyed-red secretary to hold his calls. "I'm doing an..... audition" he said, and I could hear her giggle in the background. I sucked him off, then ate and fucked his hairy ass- hole before he took me over to the sofa in his office and pumped my butt full of his own reasonably sized dick. "Well, I guess you do like hairy guys!" he said, and I suggested that we get together later that evening to continue what we'd started in his office. "Can't, my daughter's got a dance recital" he said. "Tell her you can't make it!" I insisted, giving him the address of the apartment across town that I'd rented earlier that morning under an assumed name and paid the first three months rent in cash. I'd hoped to get him so hot that he'd be willing to give me information about who might have murdered Tony, but somehow his car exploded on his way to the dance recital. On the evening news I watched the film clip of his widow and five daughters (aged 5 through 14) and I blew a load all over myself as I recalled how hot it had been to fuck him earlier in his office. My only mistake that afternoon was that I'd given his secretary my real name when I came in. That's the only way that Rourke tracked me down. Sgt. Rourke was also the first one on the scene when another Gambini family member was discovered in the charred remains of a car that had run off the road. An official from the gas company was with Rourke when he investigated the explosion at Mickey Orlandini's restaurant, a blast that blew Mickey and his brother Roman to shreds. The Orlandini family figured that it was the Canelli's who had retaliated for their friendship with the Gambinis. When Rourke appeared at my door the morning after Joey Canelli's body was found I was so flustered by his appearance that I let my guard down. On this particular day Rourke was very much out of uniform, wearing a pair of tight-fitting cut-off shorts and a tank top. "Hello Sgt. Rourke" I said, "What can I do for you?" "Oh nothin' much, just wanted to drop by on my day off to tell you I'm about to nail your ass for a bunch of murders. Maybe you'd like to confess now and make it easy for me" he suggested. "I'm sorry, I haven't a clue what you're talking about Rourke" . In an effort to change the subject I asked what a police detective does on his day off. "Same kind of stuff you do Scotty, the health club then maybe a trip to the beach. Looks like you spend plenty of time at both those places kid. No wonder Gianelli put you in his "favorite boy-whore spot". "C'mon, Rourke, you said you're on your day off, why don't you knock off the questions. Where'd you hide your badge and gun?" His shorts were so tight that he couldn't hide a gun in the pocket and the skimpy tank top had nowhere to pin a badge to it. Thick brown hair spilled out of every opening in his shirt, and his muscular legs were well coated as well. He was, in fact, about the hairiest guy I'd ever seen. "Are you wired today Rourke?" I asked him, "that's entrapment you know!" and he laughed. "Where would I hide a microphone?" and I told him it wouldn't be hard to bury a wire in all the hair that coated him. "Honest Scott, I'm off duty today. You want to frisk me?" He held his arms out from his body and I couldn't resist. The instant I touched his hard-muscled chest I was out of control. I rubbed against his huge mounded pecs and felt his nipples beneath the tank top. "Aw shit, get this damned shirt off!" I said, tugging at the bottom of it and yanking it up over his head. "Jesus!" I said, reacting to the sight of this big cop's bear-body. I Ran my hands and then my face through the thick blanket that thoroughly coated him, licking and biting at his huge tits and nipping at the hairs with my lips. He stood about a head taller than me so I had to lean forward to get to his mouth. The instant our lips touched I forced my tongue into his mouth, and Rourke kissed me back long and hard. I wrapped my arms around him to discover that his broad back was as heavily coated with brown fur as his front. I felt the full blanket of hair all the way down to the top of his shorts and squeezed his muscular buttocks, pressing him up against me so that he could feel my fully hard cock against his own crotch. I knew I should stop. I kept telling myself that he was a cop.....an off-duty cop though, and I wasn't about to pass up this opportunity. I hadn't been this excited since before Tony died. We spent the entire day and night together, took turns sucking and fucking one another non-stop. Finally, just before dawn I felt him roll off my huge straight-up cock after blowing what must've been about my 20th load into him. I watched him put his shorts and tank top back on and pleaded with him to stay with me. "Gotta' go catch criminals kid!" he said, and I begged him to come back later. "Oh yeah, you'll see me later today!" he promised, and I fell asleep to revitalize myself for this hairy bear-man. + + + I was still naked and asleep when he burst through the door, this time with two uniformed officers along. "Get him dressed and put him in my car!" the sergeant said, and one of the officers grabbed a pair of running shorts and put them down on the floor for me to step into. They led me out of the apartment and put me in Rourke's squad car. The accompanying police car in front of us turned to the right but we kept going on straight through the light. "Where are we going?" I asked, suddenly afraid that Kevin Rourke was going to take me out into the woods and give me a lesson in vigilante justice. "Tell me where you're taking me!" I demanded and he said nothing, continued to drive ahead despite the call on the radio from his fellow offficers. We reached the small municipal airport and he drove right onto the run-way, right to where a small jet sat ready to go. He stopped the car and opened my door. "Get out! We've got to hurry!" he said, and I couldn't imagine what was happening. "Look kid, I figure you're either a cold blooded assasin, responsible for about a dozen grisly mob hits, or else you're next on the list to get killed next. I kept thinking I'd discover you did it. I was hoping to find out something yesterday on my day off. I was going to let you fuck me and then compare your semen to that which we found in Ross Gambini's ass, but I didn't count on what happened while I was there". "What's that?" I asked, still confused by all he was saying to me. "Don't you understand. I'm in love with you Scott Davis. I'm helping you escape. We're going to a little island off the coast far enough so that we'll be in international waters. If you did kill those guys I'm now an accomplice. There's just enough fuel in this jet to get us where we want to go. We'll have to jump out over the island though so that the plane can crash and we can be declared missing and presumed dead. We'll never be able to come back. It'll be just you and me on that island forever." "Jesus Rourke, why didn't you tell me back at my place. I didn't bring any clothes other than what your goons dressed me in after they cuffed me." "Relax kid, for what I've got planned for the rest of our lives, you're not going to need any clothes at all." I may have been Tony Gianelli's "whore" and (had Rourke done the test on the sample of spunk from Ross Gambel (Gambini's) butt he would've found a match there, but I really didn't have anything to do with the murders that resulted in retaliation. So many crime families got involved in the revenge that even Rourke would've been unable to sort it all out. Not that he really cared. Once we got settled in on the island it was as if no one else in the whole world existed other than us. I'm using this last piece of lined notebook paper to write this, and if it gets to shore in this old bottle I'd love to have it shared. Maybe Ross Gambel's porn magazine will print it. Too bad Rourke and I didn't bring a camera with us! I guess you'll just have to use your imagination!