Gay Erotic Stories

Sometimes life is harder when you can have anyone or anything you want. My soul never really survived what they did to me in the eighties, TV seemed like as good a friend as any, I gave it my soul, and it turned me into what I am today. Now that I'm sultry, primed and fine in my early thirties, and moral too since the bug got me, all the gay guys are terrified of me, the dykes who run the coffeeshop smirk, but once in a while I pull a hotty out of the hat. And this is my story… Jesse is an unescapably, inexcusably pretty looking heterosexual boy of a SCANT nineteen. He is German and Thai and tall and willowy and he walks like a fag and it's only cuz he was insufficiently abused in High School, I suppose. He gets his friends to do things for him with catchy phrases like, "Rent a VCR- OH C'MON." I suppose they all know he's gunna die of AIDS some day, so they put up with him. Remember when you were young and you KNEW things? He loiters one of the coffeeshops in this sick-ass hot desert city of Phoenix, Arizona. His mouth is crooked, sometimes a littler crookeder than at other times, which means he is probably completely insane. Like many closet cases he has cultivated a WASP's manner of speakin, he is encapsulating sin carefully in some hidden hovering orifice of his mouth wherein his desires can stay secret. Yeah, fat chance. He is straight, or designedly so. But I recognize shames that excel mere homosexuality, and wonder what his bag is, why he struggles so. I have a plan to make him open up his mouth once and for all and we shall see what he has or has not inside, bent to the side and straining. Jesse isn't attractive the way Bruce Willis is attractive or the other guy, um, the guy who did Hamlet, the Mad Max guy is attractive. Jesse is just plain fucking BEAUTIFUL the way a circus sideshow freak is passe. Jesse will grow beautiful, it is in the nature of the way his flesh sits upon the bone. He is an abomination and I covet him, though I've no need to possess him. It's his heart I'm after. I like the absence it leaves. When Jesse and I make love it will be a blessing to both of us. I'm going to fuck Jesse, tonight, Jesse's sacred heterosexual ass will be mine in the Foyer of the Mormon Temple. Tonight is poetry night, I've been working on my seductive poem for a long time now. Tonight, yeah, (pronounce yay) Tonight Jesse and I make mad love to Mormon midst the pristine pillars of Republican Christianity. Tonight Jesse and I will sanctify our hallowed grounds, "Come to me, oh ye sired of empires broken and sold, empirical hound, come and defy this broken Anasazi ground, I'm a great lover of men, they say, but tonight's the night I make your father's son gay," as the cross comes falling to the ground and the lights go on- Jesse's face, his lips a smear of little-girl red, crude and pale in the policeman's white light, and I behind. What a way to go down on Truncheon Night at the Higher Ground.