Gay Erotic Stories

bow down before the one you serve :nine inch nails ‘head like a hole’ * * oh, i always recognize temptation. i don’t always resist it but i always recognize it just before i leap off the cliff. i can tell that it’s temptation by an inconvenient voice in my mind that says ‘you know, max, this might not really be the best idea in the world’. it’s a voice i usually ignore. * speaking of temptation wasn’t it saint augustine who said ‘desire enters through the eye’? yeah i think so. him or somebody like him. and dick enters through the mouth. * i like blowing stupid boys. * not a matter of choice really. these days try finding somebody with both a dick and a brain. * lots of luck. * but then there’s always been something sexy to me about blowing somebody who’s basically primitive. like a caveman or a missouri gas station attendant. * 1. the story begins with bill. * i’ve known bill for over two years. he came up to me in the wrangler one sunday afternoon and started talking. * bill thinks he’s intelligent. * he isn’t. * i mean i know it’s possible for him to hold forth on frank lloyd wright or age-of-consent legislation in britain or social darwinism because i’ve heard him but when he does it’s kind of like hearing a dog talk. * because bill has an obsession with sex which dulls all his sensibilities. yes he can talk about ‘things’ but then his conversation invariably returns to ‘THINGS’. in my story ‘photograph’ i wrote a scene where a guy comes up to me in the bar and immediately announces he has a big dick. that was bill. you would think after all this time guys would learn—now pay attention all of you—a big dick is not the rare commodity you all seem to think it is. big dicks are a dime a dozen. and half-price on sundays. so i was not impressed. indeed i was rather put off by the vulgarity of his approach. you think this is the way to make me want to fuck you? sorry boys. it takes more than that. i cannot be had by cheap talk and the price of a beer. you must buy me a shot of stoli also. * anyway. * that was the way bill was anytime i talked to him in the bar. out of the blue he would volunteer information about his sex life. now why really would i want to know. me: “there don’t seem to be many people here today. i can’t wait for the weather to get better so they can open the patio.” bill: “yeah. that would be nice . . . man, i really fucked this guy’s ass last night!” me: “?” * i also look forward to them opening the patio so i can wear my sunglasses. i have found that i absolutely cannot stop myself from rolling my eyes at some of the things i hear and see. * ii as in icuii yeah been there watched that. and you in paris keep it on for more than fifteen seconds. if you’re going to whack your dick across eight time zones DO IT. don’t just flash a stranger and run. but then, * most gay men are pussies. pussy is my new favorite word. have i been watching too many bi-sex videos? nah. * (and what is this thing some guys in the chatroom refer to as ‘manpussy’? this is a concept too twisted even for me to attempt to comprehend.) * most gay men are pussies. no disrespect to real pussy by the way. even i realize that it is a force of nature to rival fire the wind and the rain. not to mention earthquakes. but gay men? please . . . they dress up in their leather and harnesses and they go to the bar and act all butch but hit them with anything unexpected anything out of their usual pattern anything not in the script and most of them crumble or start looking all slackjawed. they’ve not gotten the whole game yet. * maybe it comes from having lived in small towns in hidden rooms in secret where on the outside sex was masculine and fascinating and if you—like me—grew up thinking that manhood and dick was something . . . just . . . out . . . of . . . reach . . . well there you are. i wonder if we’ve been listening to ‘over the rainbow’ too much. thinking that happiness and satisfaction will always be denied or delayed for us and then somehow building a world a psychological framework around and over the gap thinking that something is always more enticing if it is just out of reach. forbidden. like temptation. or that dick just half-an-inch outside your lips. pussies. still waiting for the ‘great dark man’. not allowed to have not allowed to want not for me or for you and so acquiring a taste for the forbidden for separation for exile. the wanderers always seeking and unwilling or unable to articulate accepting what identities or lines they think are going to work. maybe they’re not stupid maybe they just don’t know who they are waiting for someone to tell them. * three. okey. one more story then back to dick-sucking. many years ago right after i first moved to denver i was sitting in a bar called the ‘back door’. gone now. the bartender said, “you know i never heard of ‘anonymous sex’ until i moved here. it was always called ‘casual sex’. i always made sure they knew WHO i was!” * four. my point exactly. stand. figure out who you are and do what you gotta do and if you’re a cocksucker say so. * five. so, bill. * vi. like i said i had known him for a while but i had never been all that interested in him. or his equipment. and we both had boyfriends during most of that time. but then recently we both became single again and i thought . . . mmmmm. why not. jeez, the man told me he had a big dick. slurp. slurp. slurp. * seven (my persona as the bulldozer): i made my intention known. not subtly either. me no pussy. * me: “you know you really piss me off.” bill looked freaked. “what?” me: “you have such potential but you’re so fuckin’ stupid sometimes.” i’m playing a very close and fast game. me: “but that don’t mean i don’t want to suck your dick.” god, i love the scared expression stupid boys—or straight boys sometimes—get in their eyes. me: “i mean yeah you irritate me but i’d drop to the ground and suck your dick right now.” like a deer in the headlights. keep going max. pressure. me: “you told me what a fuckin’ big dick you have.” bill: “ . . . yeah.” me: “well i want to suck it. here or later i don’t give a fuck, man. you’ve got a big cock and that’s all i care about.” for those of you who haven’t gotten to know my character yet i should tell you that it’s a late spring sunday beer bust at the triangle and i am on my way to being looped. on my way but everything i’m saying to him i’ve thought about already i have planned this. this is what i had decided to do to bill. bill: “well you know i’m really not looking for a relationship right now.” okey people. this is what i mean by a stupid boy. feed my contempt for you, you stupid shit. do you really think this is going to stop me? face it. you’ve got a big dick. you’ve kept telling me this and other people have told me this. tunnelvision. i repeat to him. “are you paying any fucking attention? i didn’t say anything about that. you’ve got a big dick. i want to suck it.” i have to admit that now he’s looking at me like i’ve totally flipped out. yeah right. but i’m smiling, guy. don’t that mean it’s all o.k.? isn’t this how you say you play fucker? isn’t this what you and your fuckin’ friends say is cool? * 8, my lucky number. by the way this is all true except his name. * nine. the number of inches he’s supposed to have. well that sunday he was wearing this black tshirt with a design based on the nine-inch-nails logo. beneath the backwards-N I D it said ‘nine inch dick’. we’ll get to THAT later. * at that point i decided the best strategy was to walk away. “you know i’ve told you what i want. anytime you want me to suck that cock of yours let me know.” i turn and swagger off to the front bar. * x: did i mention that bill was the one who told me about the bookstore? i know i didn’t. playing coy with you too. * three or four weeks previous—i don’t remember how it came up in conversation—he told me that some guys went to a certain bookstore after beerbust for some action. yeah and if you ask me i might tell you which bookstore or i might not. find your own fuckin’ dicks. so guess. where did i go after happy happy hour that sunday? * 11. just us. * i got to the bookstore. quarters and quarters and a bottle of poppers. what like you never? * the first guy . . . who was the first? oh i remember. * the first guy was one of those straight boys who go to bookstores. you can tell, honey. but i have no complaints about him. way joe college. what he got off on was sucking my cock while i twisted his tits. they were fucking BUILT. and he was hungry. wouldn’t let me down on him but he ate me with urgency in his eyes while he jacked on his cock while i pulled his nipples. he shot thin watery loads all over the booth. after he was done he kept slinging the cum off his hands. * i moved out into the halls and right into another room. * the second guy. was in the next booth. after watching me stroke my dick he whispered through the hole and asked me to unlock my door. when he came over it took about two minutes of my tongue and my lips on his dick before he said “can i come in your mouth?” “yeah.” i have nothing against that. we all decide our borders. he squirted it in. i spit it out all over the wall. * the third guy. i was in a booth without holes. i had left the door unlocked. he was cute as a fuckin’ button. we talked and laughed and had a great time while he sucked my cock. for half-an-hour. gave him my phone number. twenty-two by the way. bragging? nah not me. after we’re done me and him were talking in the hall. a new guy came in. tall skinny country music sexy and oh so obviously straight. my eyes lit up. nice and friendly goodbye to cutie. and back down the hall. where are yoouuuuuuu? * waitinnngggggg (just hangin’ around) * tugging on the door handles. * locked. * locked. * locked. * open. and it’s bill. ooh thank you god. and got you now, faggot. i say, “cool”. he looks . . . what. like i care. “how about now?” i say. he says nothing. he pushes his pants down and the dick flops out. four inches or so soft inches. red and thick. he doesn’t see my grin as i lower myself. i do the poppers and look up at him. i want to put on a good show. i start. i suck. i look up at him with his cock in my mouth and suck and suck that long piece of fat fuckin’ meat . . . and it gets bigger and thicker in my mouth . . . doesn’t hit nine though. nice heft but i give it maybe seven-and-a-half. hey i know how far it is to the back of my throat, you lyin’ bitch. they should have asked him to prove it before they sold him the tshirt. * but still i’m down there doing my cocksucker. he moans when i move down and lick his low-hanging hairy balls. moans again when i go back to my mouth on his shaft. it just kills me. i’ve told him already that i think he’s vulgar and that he irritates me more than i can fuckin’ say that i don’t have any respect for him but i willing to and indeed begging to suck him off. of course he’s going to get turned on by me on my knees. if you are reading this and don’t understand that you have not been in too many bus stations i assume. * after i’ve been tasting it and him for a while i stand up and smirk and say, “now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” i turn my cap back around frontways and get ready to leave the booth. he’s still unable to say anything sensible except, bill: “thanks.” * i manage to get out of the door before i roll my eyes. * standing in the hall. again. waiting. again. always waiting. * cruising rooms. there are only six rooms that have glory holes. so i guess that means three pairs. * standing. hello boys my name’s rose what’s yours? * thirteen. now this is another thing about what i mean by stupid boys. as they skulk around the corners eyes shifting from a spot on the floor to a spot on the wall refusing to acknowledge what they want or why they’re here. i would expect this kind of behavior from you closet freaks who like the thrill of your secret life your naughty behavior behind the barn but you professional cocksuckers don’t need to act like this is your first prom. stupid. maybe i’m misreading maybe it could be the game a whirling cloud of microsignals feints and strategies of moving around the hall and analyzing the possibilities who will blow me who do i want to blow who will let me blow them. if only it were true shyness but it’s not if only it were humility but it’s not. humility. that’s another story. the fascinating contradiction of power and submission of being on my knees with his cock their cock in my mouth and looking up at him them with my eyes open showing that i am submitting that i am serving that i am the cocksucker knowing i have all of the power and none of the power at the same time. deep philosophy in dirty places. another of my vices. * xiv it takes about ten minutes boys. i get an empty room. * temptation. this big hard dick comes through the hole. oh yeah it’s his. bill’s. i love the sight of cock—big dumb anonymous cock—coming through plywood. okey go with me here. you see me. down. my mouth hungry against that wood. sucking cock for my life. yeah it’s a big dick. certainly not nine inches. but thick. and juicy. i blind out. i go. i suck and suck like i’ve never sucked cock before but then before this afternoon i’ve never sucked this cock before. i spit on the head of his dick and slide it down his shaft with my hand. he pushes it into my mouth. i make noise. i groan i make sucking sounds they can hear in the next fuckin’ state. he starts fucking the wall. i play it up. hey man. why pretend anything. he’s got a dick and i’m a cocksucker. you too. * tarot sixteen, lightning: i can still remember what his cock tasted like like tanned skin. * this time, i knew who he was and he knew who i was. * he came in my mouth. i made him. i made him come. he had to. * and i kept his dick in there until it started to go soft. still jerking on myself. * seventeen (keep up): the star. in the tarot the star is hope. he pulled his cock out of my mouth and bent over and looked through the hole. i said to his blank face, “i knew it was you”. blank blank fuckin’ blank. through the opening i watched him zipping up his pants. i could also see that there had been someone else in his booth. guess what. it was the new straight guy i had wanted. he had been in there with bill, watching. when bill left the room that sexy put his dick through the hole. yeah, me and another big cock. i had spit bill’s load out on my hand. now i spread it all over my dick and started to suck the new guy. another man’s cock. i whacked my dick. i was so happy. another cock in my mouth. i was so turned on i couldn’t wait i couldn’t wait. i shot my fuckin’ load all over the floor of the booth. i know he heard me. i’m not a quiet cummer. he pulled it out of my mouth he sat back down on the bench put another token in the video took his dick in his hand waiting. i pulled up my pants. wiped my hand down the front leg so everyone could see. * what did my face look like then if anyone saw me leaving the bookstore. i’m sure it said, ‘i got mine’. * it was dark now and lightly snowing outside. i didn’t care. i was so . . . * gosh, the moon looks so bright as bright as * nineteen: the sun. you. yeah, you. reading this. tell me. what does compare with sucking dick? the blinding light. * XX. Judgment. / / / one of the things i do not like about myself is my stupidity. or rather what i should say is that i do not like it when i look back and see stupid things i have done in the past. i have sometimes made decisions and later wondered what the hell i had been thinking at the time. i have also had a similar sense of regret about boyfriends i have chosen in the past. i told a lover this once. he was not comforted by my candor. / i am aware enough while i am making decisions to know that they will not be final or implicitly correct. the flux of the universe the evolution of my spiritual consciousness or the advancement/deterioration of my mental and moral states assure that any choice i make will eventually lose its original context. all circumstances change and my original intention becomes either distorted corrupted or irrelevant. / i also accuse myself of being stupid when i don’t see the entire picture. i blame myself for not having an omniscient view. that does not sound even close to being modest. or realistic. / let’s just say i can have severe tunnelvision. / my range of vision can become narrowed so focused on a particular issue or item that the realm of tangential considerations is exterminated. those considerations express a wider field of consciousness or may lead to more creative solutions but they disappear when i focus on a point. the point. i reduce a question to its simplest elements. i usually then remove myself even further from rational consideration by basing my decision on intuition. intuition or personal preference. / perhaps my intuitions and preferences are determined by my sexual nature. / to be a gay man can mean that you have a different take on the universe. it can mean that you perceive cosmic correspondences that escape the straight world. that you inhabit a spiritual plane where what is invisible to others is made manifest to you. that you perceive different essentials. or it could merely mean that you are obsessed. / for one example there is an energy field around the cock that gay men can sense. this energy is magnetic. it creates a focusing of the consciousness to the exclusion of all else. it draws me to it. it sends its energy out through anything that might be covering it. i can feel its power. / you know the experience. you are walking up the street and you see a man who turns you on. your eyes drop a few feet to focus on his crotch. you imagine things. time is distorted and you run through hours of sexual fantasy in a second. the other sights and sounds of the world disappear as you picture yourself on your knees sucking his cock. is this an irrational fixation or a magnification of consciousness. / when you are walking up the street the initial attraction is not based on the cock being in view. it is the general appearance of the man which attracts you. we all know there are different types and that each of us has his type or types. when you see your type the fantasy kicks in. because dicks themselves are interchangeable. it is the face the style the class the economic level the clothes the look the attitude which first attracts our attention. we want to have sex with them because of the other stuff not because of their cock but their cock becomes the goal. we attach levels of sexual attractiveness to the exteriors because of psychological formations over which i assume we have never had any control. i like truck drivers because of the importance they had in my eyes when i was younger. or i like blonds with blue eyes because of my high school basketball coach. or hispanics because the first guy i ever blew was. / so the appearance is the bait. then the fantasy and desire take over and we want the cock. now how does that happen? / what is the energy field generated between the eyes and the dick? where does the tension and satisfaction come from? what is the ecstatic fulfillment that i receive from putting that meat in my mouth? / when everything else falls away and i lick my lips and open my mouth. / the vision and the desire unite and become one. then there is no other point to the universe or existence or anything than to take a man’s dick into my mouth get it hard and suck on it until he gives me his cum. there becomes no other reason. or any reason. or reason. / the flesh the pole the hard dick swaying in the air before my face as i wait with mouth open until i can move closer and take it in there is no other point to the universe and there is my hunger and my hunger will not be satisfied by anything thing else by any other thing than taking that cock or any other cock into my mouth / when you are single you are able to follow up desire with little consequence. i mean really there is often little consequence if you know how to avoid it and really work at avoiding it. that is the perfection of promiscuity. if all you are looking for is sucking cock if you can live without emotional attachments. so does that mean that i am an unemotional and uncaring person if i would rather live that way emotionally immature. / please do not ask me to go into therapy i do not think that these things can be understood through therapy. it is not a matter of psychological formation or structure it is a matter of essence and soul. / i may also have a disinclination to therapy because when they try to analyze my behavior these drives my obsessions or my urges they take the wonder away and i would rather the heaven / but what when heaven is away. / what then when there is a gap an uncrossable space between my desires and their fulfillment. if i see some guy in a bar i can or cannot go up to him and strike up a conversation and perhaps get what i want. if i see some guy on the street my chances usually diminish. especially if he’s straight. what when i cannot get what i want and it eats away at me. there is no rationality in that. in my mind if i got what i wanted then everything would be fine. if i cannot get what i want there must be something wrong somewhere either something wrong with the universe or something wrong with me. the void opens up and god is not in his house. / or should i create the gap myself? man as the moral animal able to resist his desires for some other good? which other good? i seem to be able to resist the temptations of lying stealing and violence. why can i not resist the temptation of licentiousness of lust of suckin’ cock. / once i did speed. actually it was only the second time i had done it. and not knowing any better i overdid it. by the end of the evening i was psychotic. i got a knife and cut myself. explaining it later to the boyfriend i said it was like when i used to do cocaine and would think that extreme actions were reasonable and possible. some of you would of course say that these actions were still—if not reasonable—acceptable and that i was applying some unreasonable standard of sanity. whatever. my point here is more that clarity and blindness are quite frequently beyond our control. and not just because we have ingested drugs into our system. / the passion for cock creates a mental shortcircuiting which has the same effect the beast stirs and the human hides in the cave the beast stirs and the delicate mind shrinks in fear the beast gets a roaring hardon he growls and preys and does that which it takes / an artist i know was recently relating how critics had described his work as “minimalist”. but there can be so much going on in a simple space in a field which appears empty. sometimes that which you are looking at is noninspirational your perceptions are unaltered by the encounter. other sights alter your perceptions to some slight degree whether with your permission or not. and then sometimes the amount of perceptual involvement of concentration you bring is independent of the object itself. the way my attention focuses the way my perceptual being is altered by the sight of a cock. / the religious and mystical experience states of perception that are abnormal. they can induce them with words. can the ecstatic be induced with image. and is there a word for that. and if you can see the object will it blind you and if you cannot see the object will you be blinded. will you blind yourself. / perhaps blindness creates motivation to describe something in words. i cannot see it but i can describe it. perhaps i write. / perhaps blindness creates the desire to describe something i would like to see but which is not offered to me. / perhaps i create the visions because i am not blind. perhaps it is a spontaneous creation of the vision that is incomplete then completed by me so that i can change grow evolve. / it is like all the others i am like all the others now like you like all the others that have ever been. / when i give you pleasure when you feed my hunger. when we go from wanting to having. / when i am standing on the corner and i see him sitting in his pickup truck at the light and i like his looks his shaggy hair and his mustache and beard and i immediately imagine hello and you need a lift and cigarettes and pulling into a rest stop and his pants down and i start blowing his thick cock pushing my face down into his thick hairy dark bush as he keeps me there / when i am driving up the street and i see the guy on the motorcycle ahead of me his black leather jacket spread wide across his shoulder then narrowing down to his jeans and chaps and i think about his back against wall in a garage with the jeans gone and the leather chaps still on and me gasping for breath as the spit pours from my mouth to wash his dick / when i’m coming home from the bar and this guy goes up the back alley and he’s all scruffy and slightly scary and i stagger into the darkness and he pulls his cock out and pushes me down on my knees to take his long dirty meat into my mouth and i work and work until he blows all over my face wave after wave after time after time again / when we go out to a car and he watches while i go down on him with the steering wheel hitting my head and his jeans pushing against my cheeks and his hand on my head when he says you like sucking that cock don’t you and i gasp yes / when i take a man to my bed and he lies on his back and i do it with my mouth and my hands and do that which i was meant to do until he comes / when i am closing my eyes when i suck when i am closing my eyes making myself blind so that i might see / and hallelujah praise god and give me more / / and as he does, there’s the world: them. here’s the fool: me. / and oh, it’s endless endless / ‘cause i gotta do it again - comments on this or my other stories to maxsprouse@earthlink.net