Gay Erotic Stories

I spent my university years at a small theological college in Eastern Canada. Most of the students were either interested in receiving a religious education, or insufficiently qualified to be accepted into one of the more mainstream universities in Ontario or Quebec. My primary motivation for attending the school was its dramatic neo-gothic architecture and beautiful location by the sea. During the week the residences were alive with activity, but on weekends the school was nearly deserted as students returned to their families or visited nearby relatives. My parents lived in distant British Columbia, so weekends at home were out of the question. I was one of perhaps a dozen students left to roam the empty residences on Saturday evening. On one of these evenings I sat reading the newspaper in the common room. The silence was almost oppressive, but then I was distracted by the sound of shuffling feet and the idle bouncing of a tennis ball against the floor. The sounds grew nearer, and eventually Riordan poked his head around the door. "My god, there's someone else here!" said Riordan without much interest. "What are you doing?" "Reading the newspaper," I replied, stating the obvious. "That sounds exciting." Riordan sat down opposite me. I continued reading and Riordan continued sitting, occasionally bouncing his tennis ball against the wall above my head. I ignored him. After a few more bounces he threw the tennis ball into my newspaper. I lowered the paper and glared at him. "You want a drink?" asked Riordan with a smirk. "What kind of drink?" "Rum & Coke." I laughed. "You want to go out drinking in this godforsaken town?" "No," said Riordan as he walked out of the room. "There's a pretty good bar on the third floor, you know." This was untrue. The campus was officially "dry," and alcohol in the residences was strictly forbidden. I nonetheless decided to follow him, more out of curiosity than any particular desire for a drink. I could hear Riordan bounding up the stairs to the third floor dormitory. I followed more slowly, and when I arrived at the dormitory door Riordan was already emptying a can of Coke into two paper cups. I sat down on a nearby bed and watched with amazement as he produced a half-bottle of Jamaican rum from his clothes locker. He unscrewed the cap and poured generous quantities of the amber fluid into each cup. "Cheers" said Riordan as he handed me a cup. I accepted, feeling a bit apprehensive. The paper cups were small and regularly needed refilling. We drank two more cups of the sweet, spirited concoction, and then inevitably the conversation turned to sex. "Are you a virgin?" asked Riordan, out of nowhere. "Not entirely," I replied with my usual dishonesty. "I've done some pretty heavy petting, though." "Has a girl ever jerked you off?" continued Riordan, obviously not satisfied with my vague response. "No, but I was kissing a girl once and I almost came in my pants." This was a complete lie. "I've never done anything with anyone," said Riordan with disarming frankness. "I just jerk myself off." "How often?" I asked, slowly warming to the subject. "Every day. Sometimes more. How about you?" "About the same," I replied. There was an uncomfortable silence as we both drank from our paper cups. "Are you horny right now?" asked Riordan, again without warning. "Sort of," I replied, trying to sound as non-committal as possible. "Do you have a hard-on?" I paused to consider my state of arousal, and also whether I should answer such an incriminating question. "Semi-erect," I replied eventually. "Do you want to do something about it?" This was too much. I told Riordan to fuck off. He laughed. "Don't be like that," he said good naturedly. "Look, why don't we try jerking off together, and if you don't like it we'll stop, okay?" Another uneasy silence. The truth was that I was quite excited by Riordan's suggestion, but I was worried about other people finding out; or, even worse, the possibility that I might somehow be gay. "I promise not to tell anyone, whatever happens" offered Riordan. Apparently this was all the assurance I needed. "Okay," I said slowly, "But you go first." "Sure." He unbuckled his jeans. "Don't be shocked" he added as he pushed the heavy denim and light underpants down to his knees. His penis was enormous and fully erect. He lay back on the bed and put his hands behind his head, then looked at me expectantly. His cock stood out from his skinny body with absurd prominence. I sat down beside him and stared at his gently throbbing member. "It won't bite," said Riordan simply. Gathering my courage, I grasped his penis and squeezed. Riordan let out a small gasp, followed by an even smaller grunt. I slowly moved my hand up and down his gigantic shaft, and he began very gently to thrust upwards. Not only was I in awe of Riordan's size (at least two inches bigger than me, and much thicker); I was also overcome by the beauty of his cock. It was perfectly formed, firm yet soft. It emitted a sweet, musky odour. Very clean. I pumped slowly, but Riordan was growing impatient. "Go faster," he said. I did as he asked. "Harder," muttered Riordan as he began to move his head from side to side. Again I did as he asked. "Harder!" he commanded with real urgency. I squeezed his cock tight and pumped it faster and faster. Riordan pushed his hands against the wall and lifted himself slightly off the bed, still thrusting towards my hand. "Harder, harder," he repeated. As our speed increased my arm actually began to ache. And then he came. Not much. Just a few small squirts of semen. The first drop landed on his stomach, and the rest clung to his swollen cock head. The pungent, white liquid pulsed out of the end of his penis, and it was over. "Great," said Riordan as he exhaled. He reached for a tissue and cleaned himself up. "Your turn." I'd temporarily forgotten about this part of the arrangement. I wasn't sure I really wanted to go through with it now. "You don't have to," I offered. "Or we could do it some other time." "No, fair's fair," said Riordan as he sat upright at the side oof the bed. "Lie down." I stretched out on the bed and unzipped my jeans. I was so nervous I Wasn't even hard, and I knew my cock was quite a bit smaller than Riordan's. This was becoming embarrassing. Riordan must have sensed my discomfort. "Relax," he said as he gently stroked my stomach. He ran his hand under my shirt up to my chest, and then down again, occasionally pushing at the elastic waistband of my underpants. It was working. I was getting hard. Riordan grasped the sides of my jeans and pulled them down. I could see my cock pressing against the white cotton of my boxer shorts. He eased my shorts down, revealing my modest cock, hard and proud. "I'm going to have some fun with this," said Riordan as he squeezed my penis and expertly began to masturbate me. Within seconds I could feel myself ready to cum. There was nothing I could do about it. I erupted suddenly, almost violently. Riordan was not expecting it. "Holy shit," he exclaimed as I spurted. I could feel the first drops land near my shoulder, and the rest of my semen spilling onto my stomach. "Fantastic!" said Riordan, delighted by the spectacle. "You really know how to cum!" Following Riordan's example, I immediately reached for one of his tissues and cleaned myself up. Riordan returned the rum bottle to his clothes locker, gathered the empty paper cups and Coke cans, and took them to the bathroom where he threw them away. "Thanks, man. See you later," said Riordan as he walked out of the dormitory and bounded down the stairs with the same excited enthusiasm he seemed to bring to everything. Want to share college or other reminiscences? 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