Gay Erotic Stories

I used to work in the city. Everyday, the same monotonous journey, bus, train…then work…then train and bus. God, how I hated it! Invariably I’d miss the train that would have taken me to the station closest to my house. So I’d have to wait, in that dreary, dismal underground station. It was so depressing. I remember the huge, vaulted ceiling, black and intensely hideous, holding nothing but the promise of more depression. Bleak and cold, uncaring and unforgiving, my life was a treadmill of despair.

Sometimes, just every now and again, I’d see someone who would brighten up the evening. There were many girls, some of them like models, tall, elegant, blonde hair tumbling down to their shoulders…so slim, so smooth. Sometimes there were guys. I’d always fancied guys, ever since school. I’d lost my virginity at college with a guy…followed six months later with a girl! How’s that for a nice, well-rounded introduction to the world of sex? Well, although I liked to think of myself as bi-sexual, I knew that deep down, although I fantasised constantly about round, plump female arses, it was the thought of a stiff, thick cock that really drove me wild with desire! But what was to happen to me one fateful night in early spring was to leave me breathless and totally convinced that it was cock, and big juicy ones, that really rocked my boat!

The train was packed, as usual at that time. I didn’t have a regular seat; I hated all of that. I just got on wherever I could. This particular evening, I had to squeeze in next to a rather large lady who was festooned with a multitude of shopping bags. She smiled politely and I offered her an apology. It had been raining and everyone was very wet. In the close confines of the train carriage, steam was already rising. As I glanced up, I saw there was a guy sitting opposite me. Older, wide shouldered and rather mean looking, his eyes bore into me with an intensity that I found instantly unnerving. Thinking I’d inadvertently knocked him as I sat down, I muttered an apology and tried a smile. Nothing registered in that hard, chiselled face. The glare didn’t falter and I swallowed hard. I must have really annoyed him. Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, but unable to move due to the press of people around me, I moved my eyes down and fastened them on my own hands.

He was literally inches from me, sitting on a bench seat, as I was. His hands were huge, gnarled and rough--a worker’s hands. By the look of his clothes, which were covered in splats of whiter, as were his boots, he must have been a painter. I chanced another look and nearly cried out as his eyes still bore into me.

I reddened and looked away quickly. He was a big man, but very much older than me. I’d say possibly late fifties, but fit. I could sense that. I could also sense his anger. From within me came the desire to ask him what was wrong, but yet another glance at his eyes told me I shouldn’t. This guy was not to be messed with, so I kept my eyes averted.

As the journey continued, I began to wonder what I had done to upset him so. Perhaps it was just me? Maybe he didn’t like the look of me? I didn’t know. I felt really threatened by him, despite the fact that I was in a packed railway carriage! Then, from somewhere, I began to fantasise. What if he wasn’t angry? What if he fancied me? I felt a lump rise in my throat. What if…no, that was ridiculous! A man like that, big and strong, as masculine as you could possibly imagine? And old? My God, here I was, fresh-faced, twenty years of age, still shy and awkward, still finding my way in the world…No. It was a silly idea.

The journey seemed to last an age. At last we came out of the tunnel and into the light. It was around six-thirty and it was still light. I was grateful for that. If he did happen to get off the same stop as me, I would have hated to have been on a darkened platform with him! I could almost feel the weight of his fist as he punched me full in the face!

I started hoping he would get off, but he didn’t. He just sat there, staring. By now I was in a frenzy. The carriage was thinning out, but still my stop hadn’t arrived. It was becoming very hot in there by this time, and still his eyes…

At last the train pulled into my station and I jumped to my feet and got out. I had a notion that I would watch him through the glass and bring up my finger in the universal sign…but as I turned I almost fainted with fear! There he was, towering over me. I couldn’t move and braced myself for the blow. And then he spoke, “You’d better come with me,” he said simply and began to walk ahead. I just stood there, not knowing what to do. At the steps that led down to the exit, he paused and turned. One eyebrow was raised and he motioned with his head that I should follow. Not really knowing why, I did as I was bid.

My feet and legs were like lead. As I followed him down the street, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen. My heart was beating so fast I could hear it in my ears and every step was bringing me closer to…what? I had no idea.

Then, suddenly, we were there. A little block of flats. He went inside and disappeared up some stairs. It was an uninviting and harsh place, full of echoes and cold, harsh light. Like a zombie in a trance, I followed.

His flat was quite warm, sparsely furnished and bland. A hallway led down towards a single room with sofa and television. A little table was in the corner, and three doors; bathroom, kitchen and bedroom. He simply walked to the bedroom, pushed open the door and beckoned me in.

As I stepped inside, he came up behind me, closing the door with a slam. I jumped and turned. He just looked at me. “This is what you want, isn’t it?” he asked, and without any further ado, he pulled down the flies of his trousers and brought out a monster of a cock.

My heart nearly leapt out of my body. I just gaped. It was he, long and thick and very white. The head was big and purple, throbbing with desire. I couldn’t help but gape at it. It was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen!

I must have drooled because he gave a little laugh, reached out, and began to unbuckle my own belt. He laughed out loud when he saw my cock, which is about six inches erect. He ripped off my jacket and shirt and then pushed me back onto his bed. He stood there, displaying his manliness and I simply stared, my lust beginning to rise. He pulled off the r4est of his clothes. His body was magnificent, hard and well muscled. Naked as he was, I could help but lick my lips and then he straddled me, moving his great cock towards my mouth.

“Suck it,” he ordered and I obediently did so, taking the whole length into my mouth. I gagged as he began to work himself backwards and forwards, but he was relentless. I thought I was going to be sick, and then he pulled himself out and just sat back, as if he relished displaying himself to me.

“Like it?” he asked his voice rough and uncouth.

I simply nodded. “Turn over,” he ordered, and I did, without argument. Suddenly his great hands were lifting me up and his tongue was probing my arsehole. I moaned as his tongue lapped at my flesh, then his hand was playing with my cock. I was in delirium. He was so rough, so utterly I control, that there was nothing I could do. But the whole thing was wonderful and I felt myself thoroughly used and abused and I loved it.

Suddenly, great, thick sausage-like fingers were probing my arse, plunging inside. “Mmm,” he murmured, “there’s lots of room in there…you’re gonna need it!”

He stepped back and for a moment I thought that he had finished with me. But I needn’t have worried. Cool, soothing jelly was smeared over my arse and I began to moan loudly as his fingers probed me once more. Then he was pulling me back towards the edge of the bed, and I knew instinctively what was coming.

“Try and relax,” he said, his voice for the first time sounding more gentle, “just open up and let me in…”

I nearly cried out at that point, but then I felt his great cock nudging at my hole. It was so soft, but so hard, and I was unable to resist. I simply opened up and he began to push. I cried out with the pain, but I was determined not to resist. “There’s a good boy,” he said, and that turned me on even more! With a grunt, he pushed himself right in and then he was humping me, with long, powerful strokes, his balls slapping up against my buttocks. He was simply amazing, varying his speed and his strength of stroke, feeding me his cock with the most delicious fucking I’d ever had. It just went on forever, and I was crying out to him,”Oh my God, you can fuck! God, I can feel it, you’re so fucking big!” This only spurred him on, and he was fucking me so hard that the entire bed was coming off the floor.

“Play with your cock,” he said, and I did, eager to please him. “I want you to tighten up,” he grunted, “let me feel your tight ass!” So I did, and he swore loudly and drove in still deeper. Suddenly I was coming, and I cried out, “Shit, I’m gonna cum!” He laughed, “That’s my boy,” he said, and his strokes grew in intensity as the both of us became lost in the moment.

I was shooting sperm all over the bed now and as my arse-hole tightened and I cried out, he too was coming. I felt great hot jets of semen shooting into me, but he never stopped pumping, holding my hips with his strong hands, spilling out every last drop of his seed until at last, sated, he fell to the bed, breathless and spent.

I too dropped, face down into the mattress. I had been totally and completely fucked and I Just lay there, in a whirl of emotion, looking at him as he lay across from me. He stirred and rolled over onto his back and I looked at him properly for the first time. His great cock lay limp over his thigh and his chest rose and fell as he took great gulps of air in. I slowly snuggled up to him and, amazingly, his arm came around me and he held me there. I felt wonderful and I put my head on his chest and closed my eyes. I felt I’d found the perfect man. Strong, domineering, with the most perfect cock. God, just the thought of it was enough to make me go hard again!

When I woke, he had been making coffee. Dressed in shorts and t-shirt, he came over to the bed and put the cup next to me. He smiled and I thought it was the most lovely smile I’d ever know.

“Drink up,” he said simply. “Time for you to go.”

I frowned at that. “I-er-don’t even know your name.”

He shrugged. “So?” Then he moved over to the door and stood there, breathing a deep sigh. “I’m going for a shower. Close the door on your way out.”

As he made to go I darted over to him, holding onto his arm with both hands. “Can I see you again?” I asked, a little too enthusiastically.

He looked down at me and smiled, his hand running through my hair. “Well, we’ll have to see,” he said, then pulled away. “Perhaps we’ll meet on the train again.” Then he was gone, into the bathroom. I stood, waiting, but the only thing I knew was that the shower had been turned on. I left my coffee, got dressed and made to leave. Then, on an impulse, I scribbled down my name and mobile number on a piece of paper and left it by the bed.

Hopefully, he would contact me. At least that was my hope. As I walked home, every step reminded me of his great cock invading my body, of the feelings he conjured up, of the insatiable desire I had to repeat it all again.

But I never saw him again.

That was thirty years ago. And I still don’t know his name!