Gay Erotic Stories

At my favorite shopping mall, there was a young bodybuilder working as a hair stylist in a women's salon. Other boys laughed at him when they saw him at work and called him "faggot" when passing his door. I did, too, to hide my real feelings from them. Then I started running into him elsewhere in the mall. The bookstore was where we finally met. I had to get around him to reach a magazine I wanted and he smiled and stepped aside. Under his left arm was a bodybuilder's magazine. "You read that one, too, huh?" I asked. I was attempting to break the ice. I had never even seen that particular magazine before. "You work out?" he asked. "Yeah." He looked me up and downm chuckled, and shook his head. "Well, don't give up," he said. I felt a little foolish, but that exchange made it easier to talk to him again. His name was Armando, he was part French and part Greek, and had been part owner of the salon since it opened. On a bulletin board in his back office, there was a snapshot of him posing nude on a beach. I took the chair at his desk and stayed there so I could look at that snapshot. When he finally caught on to my interest in it, he told me I could take it if I wanted it. "Are you sure?" "Yeah, go ahead. I've got better ones." "Oh? When do I get to see them?" He laughed and stared at me thoughtfully a very long time. "How old are you, Marty?" he finally asked. "Eighteen." "You sure about that?" "Yeah. Why?" "I just want to be sure I won't end up in trouble if I take you home and show you those other snapshots," he said. "You won't," I assured him. Armando showed me other things as well. How to strip for his camera, for instance "You have to show an attitude," he said. "You have to show an attitude when you stretch out on a bed and look back at your partner." There was someplace I had to get to before I stretched out across Armando's bed---his bathroom. Reaching the door, I turned, ran a hand through my hair, and gave the camera my sexiest over-over-the-shoulder come hither look. "Great!" Armando enthused, clicking away. He stretched out naked on the bed. I went around the bed, picked up his camera for some shots of him from behind, and discovered there was no film. The camera was empty. "You're kidding!" Armando exclaimed, giving me a backward over-the-shoulder look. "I should have checked it!" "What do we do now?" "Oh, we'll think of something, I'm sure," he said, pulling a pillow down under his arms.