Gay Erotic Stories

My first time was not with the all-American boy next door or the handsomest boy at school. It was with a boy who was really easy to talk to, a boy who was in the trenches with me and not having an easy time, either. You know, a boy who knows you're not doing everything right but is still there to listen. His name was Lonny. People perceived what they wanted to perceive about Lonny and I, but that was okay because they really weren't important to our lives. I wasn't too thrilled by the name calling, but Lonny was at peace with himself and his gay feelings, so I couldn't get too upset. Lonny's acceptance of his sexuality helped me find definition to everything I was in life. That's when I began to appreciate how much he meant to me. It was kinda funny to think of Lonny as a mentor, but he talked about things he thought would be best for me. Lonny was all I wanted next to me at the end of a tough day. What else can I say if I'm going to continue to be honest here? I wanted him beside me when I fell asleep and when I woke up the next morning to face a new day. Our first time together in bed, I was sure I'd never known what real happiness was until that moment. It wasn't just the naked body pressed against mine; it was the boy attached to it as well. The excitement was indescribable. I won't even try. We made love, not just enjoy sex. I got to know every beautiful inch of him before it was over and kiss every beautiful inch of him watching him drift off to sleep. It was a warm and lazy Saturday afternoon when I finally woke up. Lonny wasn't beside me, he was in the kitchen fixing our breakfast. Once more, the kisses, the touching, the stroking, the pressing together of our bodies had me panting and trembling. It couldn't happen there in the kitchen, so we ran to the nearest sofa. Every fiber of my being tingled with anticipation this time.