Gay Erotic Stories

It was late in the morning when I received the phone call from my mother. Finally after all these years she had found my father. I wasn’t really that happy, as she was the one looking. There was some “bad blood” between us: he was an asshole while I was growing up. You know the kind: drunk, verbally abusive, and totally homophobic. What a great way to become a man, and a gay man at that. She had been searching because, since their divorce, we had learned of his being diagnosed with brain cancer. This was typical behavior for her, though. Even though she had been forced to work two jobs to support us, mom wanted to make sure he was ok. I had just turned 20 the week before, and was living on my own for the first time in my life. Everything seemed to be going my way, and even this news couldn’t bring me down. I hadn’t seen the man since I was fifteen, and I did have some things to say to him. I told my mother that I would check out the address, and see if he was all right. Luckily for me the drive to his new home wouldn’t be that far. I was going to school in Indiana, and he had moved to Ohio. It would only be a three-hour trip, and I would get to check out a new city while I was at it. I figured I could drive out Friday after class, and be there by six o’clock. If he was anything like I remembered he would be half in the bag by the time I got there. It would make getting answers out of him easier, as he blathered on endlessly once he got drunk. I would then spend the night at a hotel, and sightsee the next day before coming home. Not a bad mini-vacation if you asked me, and Friday after class I was off. The trip was uneventful, and when I arrived in his new hometown, I checked into my hotel and unpacked. Luckily I had thought ahead and brought along some supplies, which I quickly stuffed into my backpack, and decided to leave right away for his house. When I got to the address my mom had given me, it was a half-decent normal building converted to apartments. I had stopped off at a liquor store I had spotted along my drive, and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels for him. I figured he might not want to see me, but if I offered a bottle, he should be more receptive. I hesitantly walked up to the front door and pressed the buzzer. After only a few seconds, a man’s voice answered back. “Hello, who’s there?” he questioned, to which I replied, “It’s me, dad, Joe. Mom gave me your address, and I wanted to talk to you.” After a few moments of silence he said, ”OK. Come on up.” I walked into his building and up the flight of stairs to his apartment. When I reached his door, I knocked, and he called that the door was open. I opened the door, and looked around to see where he was. It only took a minute before I realized nothing was ever going to change this man. He was sitting in his living room on his sofa in his underwear just like he had every day of my childhood. There was an empty glass on the table, but no bottle in sight. I said hello, and he nodded to me. “Come on over and sit down”, he said. “I’d offer you a drink, but I just finished the last of what I had.” “Don’t worry about it.” I offered and handed him the bottle. “Wouldn’t want to show up empty handed, and I figured we could both use a drink once I got here,” I said. He almost broke the bottle as he grabbed it from me. I sat down on the couch, and realized the temperature in the apartment was very high. I commented on it, and he reminded me that he didn’t wear much at home, and it was comfortable for him. He then took a large gulp of the whiskey and offered me the bottle, to which I said no, but did pull out a joint I had packed for myself. I asked him if he minded, and he said no. My parents had smoked pot when I was little, but while I knew they did it, they kept it away from me. Finally he asked me why I had come all this way, and I told him about mom, and her hearing he had cancer. He said it was NOT cancer, but a benign tumor in his brain. While it was not going to kill him, it did make it impossible for him to work. He got dizzy spells, and was forgetful all the time. All I could think was, “How can he tell the difference since he’s drunk all the time anyway,” but I kept my mouth shut. I told him that I had some questions for him, and he told me to shoot. Suddenly my mouth went dry. The joint had kicked in, and I was stoned. I let loose a barrage of questions, some more like statements, and he just listened and answered them. I was finally satisfied, and sat there smoking a second joint. He asked me to share, and I did. I still felt slighted for the way he treated me, but after tonight, I would never have to see him again. He turned on the TV, and stopped at an old episode of Baywatch. After about five minutes, I couldn’t take the heat anymore, and asked if I could open a window. He said no, but I should get rid of my shirt since it was very heavy. I agreed (for the first time in my life), and shucked my turtleneck. It wasn’t enough, and did away with my shoes, socks, and pants as well. I was definitely more comfortable now, and as I was on the swim team at school had nothing to be embarrassed about . We sat there for a few minutes when I noticed a movement out of the corner of my left eye. I glanced over, and his dick was swelling in his shorts. I looked at the television, and saw five girls in bikinis running on a sandy beach. I laughed and he asked why. I asked if he wanted to be alone, and he said he was sorry. Normally at this time he would flip on a porn, and take care of things, but he was unable, and his dick had a mind of it’s own. I was really stoned, and said he could watch what he wanted, and with that he turned on the VCR, and pushed play. A pretty normal straight porn came on the screen, and I noticed that his dick got even harder. This whole scene suddenly made my 8 inch cock spring to life. “Damn thing,” I thought and let it go. I was trying to get more comfortable on the couch, and he looked over at me, noticing the tent in my boxers. He said it was good to see me enjoying myself. I sat there embarrassed, and said, “yeah,” politely. He thought it was from the movie, and I was in no mood to correct him. I lit another joint (my last) and we smoked it quickly. A scene came across the screen with two girls and a guy in a pretty ordinary threesome. He was very aroused at this new scene evidently, because he started to rub himself through his shorts while glued to the set. He kept glancing at me to make sure I was ok, and I said that if he wanted to jerk off, it was ok with me. He asked why I would say that, and I told him that I saw him rubbing himself. He blushed, but said thanks. It had been about four days, and he needed to get off. My coming over tonight had changed his plans, but he said no anyway. I told him that we were both normal guys, and we both did it, so why be bashful. His answer was that, he didn’t feel comfortable being naked by himself. I said, “Fine!” and took off my underwear. He grinned, said thanks, and took off his shorts. He looked my pack over, and said that at least I got his genes in the cock department. For the first time ever, I saw my father’s swollen cock. Don’t get me wrong, I had seen him naked a hundred times, but never like this. He started rubbing his dick, and I started watching him. After a few minutes, I began to stroke my member at a leisurely pace. Dad looked over and smiled. He said he was happy I was able to feel comfortable enough to do this. I just shrugged him off. Maybe it was all the weed, but I just started staring at his shaft getting pumped up and down. Finally he noticed me looking, and asked what I was doing. “Nothing,” I answered and looked away. “Didn’t look like nothing,” he said. “Why were you looking at me that way?” I was trapped, and couldn’t think fast enough for a good answer, so I said that his cock looked so hard, I didn’t think mine ever got that hard. He said mine looked hard enough, and chuckled. I said no, I don’t think it does, and looked at his dick with an intensity I didn’t know I had. The resemblance was uncanny. Our two dicks looked exactly alike, down to the circumcision scars. (Ironically, the same doctor had still been in practice when I was born, and had done me as well.) He just shrugged and kept at what he was doing. I was now in this zone, however. I needed to know. Finally I just blurted it out. “Can I touch it?” I asked. “What? Are you crazy!” he said. “Come on, I need to know. They look alike, so it would be just like touching my own,” I answered Thinking it over, he reluctantly said yes. My father slowly moved his hand away, and I reached over. It felt exactly the same as mine did, only with a slight feeling of disconnection since it was his. He sighed the moment I touched it, and I instinctively stroked it twice. As I was starting to pull my hand away, he clamped his fist over mine. “If you want to feel it so bad, then here!” he stated and forced my hand up and down his shaft. After the initial shock wore off, I got into it, and asked if he liked fucking his own son’s hand. He laughed derisively, and said it would do for now, since what he wanted was a blowjob from this chick he used to work with. Not dropping the ball (pardon the pun), I bent down and licked his cockhead. This time there was no resistance, and he leaned back. I looked up, and he had his eyes closed. I took the head of his dick into my mouth, and started to swirl my tongue around his cockhead. He groaned, and I sank down onto his meat. Here I was in Ohio, sitting naked on the couch with my father’s dick in my mouth. I could feel the pre-cum starting to flow, we were even alike in that department. I tasted his sweet juice, and it made me want him even more. I picked up my pace, slurping on the cock I came out of, all the while listening to him gurgle with pleasure. He grabbed my head and started to fuck my wet lips. “Take it kid…that’s it, eat my dick. Suck your daddy’s tool. Oh yeah…. Keep it up and you’re going to taste your brothers,” he grunted. When he said that, my mind reeled, I had been pulling on my own cock at the same time, and now quickened up the pace. I felt his balls tighten, and with my free hand, I played with them. Rubbing the dripping saliva all over them in a clockwise motion. I could feel the fur between his legs, and realized I was finally getting to know what my boyfriends experienced. His whole cock was pumping in and out of my mouth, and he was fucking my face pretty hard when I felt it happen. He gave no notice, and a stream of hot cum shot into my mouth. “Take it… Take it!” he yelled. “Sswallow what you’re made of!” I took as much as I could, and let the rest drip out my mouth. I used my fingers to rub it into his balls, and he just smiled down at me. “How’s it feel to swallow the same sperm you’re made of boy?” he asked. To which I just smiled, stood up and jerked off on his chest. I felt my balls tighten, and I increased my speed. Right before I came I felt his hand cupping my balls. I couldn’t take this, and he moved his hand onto my shaft. With one hand he jerked me off and the other massaged my sack. I shot violently, and it landed all over both of us. It was even in his hair. I reached down, and wiped my cum off his cheek, and ate it. It tasted the same. Goddamn, it tasted the same. He laughed, stood up, and went to the bathroom. I suddenly broke my frame of mind, and dressed while he was in the bathroom. By the time he came out, I was standing at the door, and said goodbye. I told him I would see him later, knowing full well I would not, and left. The impact of what had happened set in and I just drove in amazement. I had sucked the same dick my mom had, and the same dick I came out of. I decided not to stay the night. I collected my things from the hotel, and drove home. I never saw him again, but my mother was relieved about the tumor when I called her. I left out the sex, but told her I got the answers I needed. In the end I’m really glad I got that address from my mother.