Gay Erotic Stories

Ryan and I had just spent two hours at the Spearmint Rhino in cow country, trying to rustle up a pair of hot tits and ass for our buddies’ bachelor party. Apparently the best man had listened to the groom, and hadn’t booked any entertainment for the festivities. Which wouldn’t really be too bad, since all except Ryan and me were single (Ryan is getting married next year). But now the bachelor had changed his mind. All the guys were getting a little bored with the pool table, and the college football games on the television were not all that interesting.

“I knew we should have taken care of this ourselves.” I was silent. I too knew what a bunch of flakes the other guys could be. And now after several lap dances, and trying to convince a couple of strippers (not close to being pretty by L.A. standards), we had come up with nothing but a couple of hard-ons and the phone number of a very reluctant stripper named Cheyenne who was very likely not going to traverse the mountain to Big Bear, even for three hundred bucks.

We got to the mountain home after 5:00 p.m., and the boys were all pretty fucked up by now. The Groom (Gordon) had passed out twice, and was working on his third time. We found the hired bartender and he poured us two very tall glasses of Vodka; we had been through every mixer by now. We had a lot of catching up to do, and since the U.C.L.A./Oregon game was not on until 7:00, I tossed back the glass and asked for more.

The next five hours were spent getting pretty hammered, watching football and playing pool. Guys would pass out, then wake up an hour or so later. The very patient bartender just kept feeding us vodka, and after that was polished off, whisky. The U.C.L.A./Oregon game ended and now “The Breakfast Club” was flickering across the screen to about 7 of us who could still stand.

“This is bullshit,” Alex (the Best Man) screamed as he got up and turned off the T.V. “Turn the music back on.” He turned to me. “You and Ryan didn’t get us any fucking strippers.” “Fuck you, asshole!” I yelled. I was not going to take this guy’s bullshit. “You fucking strip for us then!” I joked.

Suddenly everyone was chanting “take it off, take it off” while Alex just smiled at us with a stupid grin. “How much are you going to pay me?” Someone yelled, “50 bucks!” “This is bullshit,” I replied. The idea off seeing one of my jackass buddies make an even bigger ass out of himself didn’t seem like that much fun. Alex suddenly had a brainstorm. “Let’s make the bartender strip for us.” I nervously turned to look at the bartender who didn’t even look up from his bar. Alex was at the bar; throwing wads of cash his way.

“Turn the music up guys,” the bartender said. I could not believe what I was seeing. Someone turned up the music, and suddenly the bartender had his apron off. “Just pretend he’s a chick and make the most out of this,” said Ryan, who was now holding up a 5-dollar bill. “It’s not like we have to actually get off on this, it’s just pretty funny.” The Bartender came over and shoved his crotch in Ryan’s face and made him shove the 5 dollars down the front of his pants. All the guys were hollering, and I was sure the passed out groom was going to hear this and wake up. Then the bartender grabbed my hands and pulled me up by the pool table. He winked at me and said, “Help me.” He guided my hands to the bottom of his shirt, and together we peeled off his shirt, revealing a pair off rock hard, muscled pecs. Somebody yelled, “Play with her tits!” and now he was guiding me to his tits. I could not believe this. I was actually twisting on this dude’s tits with my buddies egging me on. He was panting quietly, and I could tell this guy liked it, which gave me a hard-on. My hands started to explore all over his chest, then his abs. It felt like my body (I am a fitness trainer), and I got even harder. The bartender noticed, gave me another wink, bent over to show his ass to the guys behind him, and pulled off his cargo pants. The guys went wild, and the bartender was now eyeing my crotch and smiling.

Suddenly, Alex was behind him, stuffing money down the back of his underwear. The bartender shoved his ass in Alex’s face. Alex licked his underwear! This was not happening. The guys were screaming for more, and down went the underwear. Here was our bartender, dancing in front of us with a raging hard-on. He swung it back and forth with a slap. He was totally into it. His dick looked huge. He took it in his hands and started to jack it. He lay down on his back, his body arching and moving seductively to the rhythm of the music, and continued to stroke his cock.

By this time, all my buddies had started to work on their dicks. One by one, they gathered around the bartender, who was now spreading his legs wide, pulling his ass cheeks wide and showing us his hole. He sucked his fingers, just like one of the strippers would do at the club, shoved it inside his ass and moaned. I looked around the room. The guys were all glued to the man on the floor, jacking their cocks full tilt. The bartender now had one hand on his rod and three fingers fucking his ass. “Aw man,” Alex groaned. He started to shoot his load all over the guy’s abs. The bartender smiled and kept pumping and fucking himself. One by one, all the guys shot their loads, drenching the sweaty, muscled guy on the floor in their cum. And then he came. He shot for what seemed like minutes. Loads, and loads of cum just flew straight into the air, to the whistles and shouts of my friends.

I was still clothed and hadn’t cum. Out of nowhere, a still fully dressed Ryan handed a shot of whisky to the bartender and me. The bartender took his, looked at me, winked, and began to count the cash that was piled on the floor next to him.