Gay Erotic Stories

Lorenzo’s sole dream, his entire life, had been to become an orchestral conductor. He had attained distinctions to the highest level in five instruments by the age of 16, and had won a scholarship to the Royal College of Music at the age of 17. He worked there for six years and got his degree and doctorate in Music before going out as a freelance conductor. Eventually, after some dry patches, he began to get work, a lot of work, and he made enough money to finance a home in Los Angeles, having moved over to America when he was 25 in the hope of more work. Lorenzo always maintained that his passionate personality made him a better conductor. He was quite openly gay, and had come out to his friends and family just before he moved from his native Derbyshire to London to take up his place at the Royal College. A fiery soul, he put huge efforts into his many compositions, many of which were musical expressions of his inner sexual tension. His “Venice Suite” was a series of pieces, each of which represented a different Venice Beach bodybuilder that Lorenzo had drooled over at one time or another. Indeed, it was on this beach that the story of Lorenzo and Drew started. Lorenzo was, as well as a talented musician, a fitness freak, and was never at ease with himself unless he was striving to be bigger, more defined, more ripped. At 26, he weighed in at over 250 lbs and his massive frame stood around 6’3” high. The entire boulevard that he lived on stopped when he would go out for his morning run, clad only in a pair of shorts. He had a perfectly smooth body, pecs so finely sculptured and so enormous that it looked like he was holding two marble slabs up to his chest. Nestled in between them was his treble clef pendant on a gold chain, his inspiration for his craft, he said. His abs were deeply ripped, and hard as concrete, while his huge biceps flexed and relaxed like tidal waves in tandem with the movements of his arms. His entire body boasted a deep, glowing tan, and his shoulder length black hair framed his brooding Anglo-Italian looks. His legs were smooth, and like the trunks of trees, the upper thigh muscle protruding just below the impressive protrusion round his crotch area. However, while Lorenzo worked out daily, and had his own gym, he never felt he was doing enough, and decided the time was right to invest in a personal trainer. Of course, what would be the point of hiring such a person if you couldn’t have one that was nice to look at? So thinking, Lorenzo headed back down to his favourite haunt - right at the railing of Muscle Beach, that exclusive bodybuilding park on Venice Beach. He needed to look no further than the first guy that hove into view. He was perfect. Dark, like Lorenzo, he was perfectly proportioned, and even taller, bigger and more ripped than he could have ever dreamed of. He only wore a pair of silky shorts, and Lorenzo noticed a tattoo on his back of a short passage of music. It seemed the two were destined to be together! Lorenzo waited around until the shifts changed and new bodybuilders came in. The guy he’d spent the last two hours staring at jogged energetically off the beach, his darkly tanned body glistening with sweat. Lorenzo eventually plucked up the courage and walked over to him. “You sure got a good workout in there!” Lorenzo opened. “Yeah.... great place,” smiled The Guy through perfect white teeth. “Great buzz working out in public!” “Must be.” “Well, I’ll have to go to work. Unfortunately, bodybuilding doesn’t pay many bills!” “Actually,” Lorenzo interjected, perhaps a shade too quickly “I might be able to help you there.” “Whaddya mean?” “I’m on the lookout for a personal trainer. I’d be willing to hire you, if you’d be willing to work for me. Good conditions! Shall we say...$17,500 a year plus accommodation and bonuses?” “You gotta be kidding!” “All right then, $18,500 and I’ll throw in the use of a car” “No, no, what I meant was that you couldn’t seriously think about making an offer like that on the spot! I’m being paid ‘peanuts’ at the moment--waiting tables in a gay bar not too far from here. But if you’re serious, I’m more than happy to....” “A gay bar?” “Yeah. I’m gay. Now look, if that’s a problem though, I don’t mind....” “No, no, no! Not at all. Say, why don’t you call your boss and tell him you won’t be in today, and you could come back and have a look round my place and see what you think. No trouble at all! If you like it, you can start today.” “You mean it?” “Sure. Gosh, I’ve just thought, I’m about to hire you and I don’t even know your name! Come to think of it, you probably don’t even know who I....” “It’s Dr. Lorenzo Guareschi, isn’t it?” Lorenzo’s face creased into a half-smile. “It is indeed. However did you know?” “I go to all of your concerts. I’m something of a lover of classical music. I had this tattoo done in your honour. It would seem like fate has drawn us together!” “Why didn’t you say before now?” “I didn’t want to seem too eager, in case you thought ill of me, I suppose. By the way, I’m Drew. Drew Anderson.” “Great to meet you, Drew. Come on, Hop in to my car. You can get a shower back at my place.” The two hopped in to Lorenzo’s 1950s Chevrolet and headed back the distance to his luxury house in Beverly Hills. When they arrived, Drew seemed to be in awe of the place. “Man, I’ve never seen houses this size before! I’m lucky to have seen a semi-detached!” “Ah well, you gotta have somewhere to lay your head!” Lorenzo quipped. The two moved inside. Lorenzo showed Drew to the shower room, and let him get showered and shaved. He went into the lounge, but couldn’t help fantasizing about what was going on behind the door down the corridor. He could feel a distinct tightening about his crotch, but knew instantaneously that it must be suppressed... for the moment. Eventually, Drew reappeared, looking refreshed and revitalized, glowing in a white, translucent silk shirt and cream trousers, his bare feet in stylish deck shoes. Every step seemed to be a ripple. Lorenzo had to think sombre thoughts to stop his true feelings from showing at this stage. “Care for a drink?” “Sure! Got any OJ?” “I have. You don’t mind if I have a Bourbon, do you?” “Well... OK. But if I’m gonna be your personal trainer, I really can’t afford always to turn a blind eye to you drinking that sort of thing!” “Yeah, I know! Just this one.” Lorenzo went over to his drinks cabinet and took out a large jug of orange juice from the chiller cupboard. He tossed Drew over a glass and went back for his own drink. He poured himself a Bourbon, then went back over to pour Drew his juice. As he was pouring, he spilled some of the juice over Drew’s shirt. “Shit, Drew, I am so sorry. Here, let me...” Lorenzo began to dab frantically at Drew’s shirt with a tissue. He looked up to apologise again, and their eyes met and locked. Neither wanted to say anything. Instead, they moved closer and closer until their lips met. Lorenzo gently kissed Drew, who, in turn, returned the kiss with greater passion. Their eyes closed and each drifted off into his own reverie as they kissed with greater and greater force and passion, their tongues eventually finding their way into the other’s mouth, exploring every inch of the soft flesh within. Eventually, they broke off. Drew turned to Lorenzo and, with a gleam in his eye, said to him “So, where’s the gym?” Lorenzo took him by the hand and strode through the house towards the gym complex at the rear of the house. They walked into its pristine white interior, and Lorenzo led the somewhat preoccupied Drew round the equipment, eventually ending up outside the door of the sauna. “Care for a look inside?” Lorenzo asked, impishly. “But of course! Mind you, I can hardly go in--in these clothes!” “I suppose I can’t either!” The two moved closer again and kissed, each kiss gaining passion and fervour. Lorenzo’s hands traced the outline of Drew’s muscular body through his shirt, before he slowly started to unbutton it. The silk slid over Drew’s broad shoulders as the last button was undone, and the shirt fell to the floor, exposing Drew’s vast, hard body. Meanwhile, Drew took off Lorenzo’s jacket and shirt and set to work on his trousers. The movement of his hands over that sensitive area drove Lorenzo wild, and he fairly ripped Drew’s chinos off, throwing his shoes aside until he stood in only his satin boxer shorts, and Drew in his. They went inside, and kissed again. This time, however, each felt the other’s raging erection against his own, and, combined with the steam, the two were driven crazy with desire. Lorenzo clasped Drew tightly to him, grinding his body and his cock into Drew’s, relishing each movement and the feeling that he got from feeling Drew’s peach-soft skin and hard pecs against his own. So forceful was the grinding, that the two were propelled about the steam room, and, eventually, they moved out the door and across the gym. Lorenzo had a very fixed idea of his ideal place for having sex, and so he steered Drew, amidst much sweat, grinding and kissing, into his music studio, with its soft blue carpets and his $15,000 Steinway grand piano. It was nearly dark in there, but the light was just enough to make the experience look and feel intensely sexy. He threw Drew against the piano before gently leaning him back over the closed soundboard. He worked his tongue across Drew’s neck and throat, and brought it down over his pecs, pausing to tease Drew’s erect nipples with his tongue and teeth, before beginning to feverishly kiss and lick his immense and ripped abs. He eased the boxer shorts over Drew’s tight ass and let an enormous erection see the light of day. He brushed his cheek over the sensitive head, causing Drew to convulse with ecstasy, before Lorenzo slowly stood up, removed his own shorts and lowered himself down on Drew’s body. He straddled his abs, and, thrusting his ass over the muscles therein, ground his cock over Drew’s well-chiseled pecs, moving downwards until his penis started to to thrust into the ridges of Drew’s six-pack. He slithered down, lubricated by Drew’s sweat, and, kneeling gently in front of Drew, slowly, but deftly and confidently, took his cock into his mouth, taking as much of it as he could down his throat. The sharp, but gentle movements of Lorenzo’s tongue on the underside of his massive member made Drew moan with ecstasy, as he felt his balls start to contract, throwing his huge load of semen further and further upwards. He knew it was only a matter of time before he shot. Lorenzo kept moving, his eyes closed, his nose taking in the gently scented aroma of Drew’s body - the mixture of sweat, precum and quite expensive cologne drove Lorenzo wild, and he began to suck and jerk his head more violently, keeping the action up until Drew’s breathing changed, his body tensed up and, after what seemed like an age, warm, creamy spurts of Drew’s cum came squirting down Lorenzo’s throat. Lorenzo swallowed every drop, before removing Drew’s sexily wet cock from his mouth and licking his lips clean of any vestige of fluid left. He then snaked his way up Drew’s body again, pressing his weight upon him, until he lay flat out on him. Then he looked him straight in the eye, kissed him, and growled “My turn!” He eased himself up further, until his tool was brushing Drew’s abs again. He leaned forward, and started, slowly at first, to heave his mighty organ over the taut ridges of his trainer’s immense six-pack. Using Drew’s sweat and his own precum for lube, he moaned softly, provocatively, as his became swifter in his thrusts. His own vast body was silhouetted in a dark blue against the evening light, and the sweat formed on his enormous muscular torso like small beads on black glass. Only the gold of his neck chain and pendant flashed out of the twilight. To an onlooker, it must have looked like the most erotic posed photograph in the history of gay art : these two sex gods “in the act” on top of a glossy black piano, the definition of their muscles accentuated by the shadows. Lorenzo grew even faster, Drew rippling his abs for added effect. Lorenzo’s moans grew longer and louder until, some minutes later, he roared, somewhat operatically, as he went into the mother of all orgasms. In seconds, he started to shoot thick, glossy streams of cum into the channel between Drew’s pecs. After about eight or nine thick spurts, Lorenzo settled down, and, kissing Drew passionately, again worked his tongue down Drew’s neck and throat, before stopping to lap up his own cum from Drew’s chest. Then, his lips still dripping, he lay down on Drew before giving him a final, intensely passionate French kiss. The two slid to the floor and lay on the thick carpet, in each other’s arms. Drew lightly ran his fingers over Lorenzo’s pecs. He whispered: “My mom saved up so she could send me to learn how to play the piano. I never thought I’d end up playing ON it!” Lorenzo laughed his deep, velvety laugh. “Yeah. And who said you couldn’t write a one-instrument symphony?!” Comments? Suggestions? Email the author at kraigyboy@chattown.com