Gay Erotic Stories

Tensome, Part I This is a completely fictional story of all male sexuality. If you do not want to read such a story, you should simply stop reading. If you did not want to read another of these disclaimers--too bad, you just have. Do not read the story if it is illegal at that particular location. Take it home with you instead, since it is pretty long. Use a disk. Your own disk. Do not steal a disk. If the law in your country or state considers you too young to have sex, remember that reading is not sex. Words cannot legally be banned in any free country, no matter what legislators may tell you. Always, always practise safe sex, unlike the people in the story, who are imaginary and thus never get sick unless otherwise indicated. This story is free for all. It should not be distributed for money. No one may charge you money for it. Copyright Derek Diq 1997. The train came to a halt. Looking out of the windows on both sides, none of the guys could see why. On one side there was only the steep mountain side, on the other was just a vast field of snow. They had stopped in the middle of nowhere, on a snowy slope in Siberia. The train did not move. Since there were only eight passengers on the train, the staff had only prepared one compartment for daytime use, by opening the wall between two night compartments and turning the beds into seats, leaving the other ten night compartments unchanged. So the guys all ended up in one room. Some had been sleeping for most of the afternoon, but some were talking and playing cards. Now they wondered what had happened. 24 year old Kaveem was in one of the bathrooms at each end of the car, shaving. He felt the train slowing in and stopping, and held the razor away from his chin before the impact of the brakes shook the car. The sound of metal against metal, then silence. Kaveem looked at his face in the dirty mirror, posing, admiring his own handsome looks, stretching the skin to see if he had missed a spot. His skin had a dark hue that hinted to his origin in southern India. He had removed his shirt to avoid getting it wet. It was extremely cold outside, but inside all the electric heaters were on, making the railway car nice and warm. Checking his left cheek he got an idea. He took the can of shaving gel and raised his left arm, ruffling his long hair and pulling the hair away from his dark brown eyes as he put his hand on the back of his head and held it there. He looked in the mirror at the tuft of wiry, very dark brown hair in his armpit, then applied the gel. It felt cool against the moist warmth of the armpit. Kaveem put the can down and massaged the gel into the hair with four fingers of his right hand. Without rinsing his hand he grabbed the razor and started shaving away the smoothened, soapy hair. There was quite a lot of it on the edge of the sink when he was done with both armpits. Not wanting to block the drain, he put the hair in the waste basket and covered it with a paper towel. He didn't want any of the other guys to start joking about it. As he was looking at the result in the mirror, comparing his naturally smooth chest with his newly smooth armpits, hands on top of his head, his hair reaching his naked shoulders, there was a knock on the door. "Hey! You fall in? The other one's busy too, and I really, really need to go!" Mitchell banged on the locked door. Kaveem put his shirt back on in a hurry and opened the door. The red haired American looked at him with a smile that Kaveem would have recognized if he hadn't been in such a hurry to leave. Mitchell shut the door but didn't lock it, just in case, but Kaveem was already back in his seat. Markku, N'Komo, Ernando and Paolo were playing cards, and Kaveem joined them after the next deal. Mitchell unbuttoned his jeans and took out a fine piece of cut meat. Aiming at the bottom of the bowl, he let out a strong jet of hot urine that made a foaming sound when it hit the water. When he was done, he let the remaining few drops leave the slit in his cock head, shook his full-sized penis and put it back in. Taking a piss always reminded him of shooting a load, something he had done often during the 27 years of his life. The way the urin makes the nerves tingle when it rushes out through the member, the way it looks as it gushes out. Mitchell felt himself grow harder as he thought of it. He opened the door and went back to the others, keeping his legs wide apart as he strode along the hall, so that his erection wouldn't be so obvious. Before he opened the door to the compartment he decided to turn it upwards and let his broad belt take care of hiding it, just in case. He didn't notice that the bottom button in his fly had opened from the straining cock beneath. There was no opening, and he was wearing underwear, but that undone button still added to his already striking appearance, making him look even sexier. As Mitchell entered, the others were playing cards. By now Kaveem had joined the game, and Mitchell sat down to do the same. On the seats next to each other he saw Josh, the Israeli guy, and Liu, the Korean, fast asleep. Josh's head had rolled to his left, and Liu's had rolled to his right, so they were only inches away from each other. Mitchell thought they looked like a couple. That thought made his cock stir again. He turned his eyes to the cards. Josh had gone to sleep first. He was wearing blue denims and a faded grey sweater. His very short, curly hair had a light brown nuance that somehow seemed to match his green eyes. He was 26 years old. Glancing at him from time to time and liking what he saw, Liu decided to get some excuse to sit himself next to him. After adjusting the luggage on the rack, he sat down casually next to the boy of his interest. It felt nice just to sit there, relaxing, watching the others playing cards, watching Josh sleep, watching Josh's denim clad crotch move as he dreamt, quickly looking away again... Josh put his right hand over his now bulging crotch, as if to hide it, but then Liu saw that he was actually squeezing his balls very carefully in his sleep. An erection was beginning to tent out Liu's chinos, so he put his left hand over his own crotch and pretended to go to sleep too, tilting his head towards Josh, both to get closer and to see more of those great thighs and knees and the creases where Josh's groin started. Nothing helps falling asleep like pretending to sleep. After a little while the 23 year old Korean slipped into a wonderful dream, still covering his hardon with one hand. It looked perfectly innocent. While Kaveem and Mitchell were out of the compartment, there were only four guys playing cards. Markku, 29, from Finland, was a gigantic blond hunk who stood 6'5" tall. As if to match him, there was a 28 year old Black nobleman called N'Komo, who was from Nigeria. He was 6'3" tall. The two men sat opposite each other, knees touching at times. Markku sat on the seat and N'Komo sat on a chair that they had borrowed from the café, with his back to Liu and Josh. To Markku's left sat Ernando and Paolo. Ernando was 24 years old and came from Colombia. Paolo was 25, from Portugal. Next to Markku's blond, crew-cut hair Ernando's hair looked like dark, dark brown satin, combed back over his head, away from his thin, youthful face. Around his mouth Ernando had a very short cut beard, only a couple of millimeters, that covered his upper lip, his chin and about an inch to each side. The darkness of the hair brought out the healthy redness of his masculine lips. Paolo had curly, light brown hair that sometimes got in his eyes, only to be pushed aside with the back of his hand. Paolo's mouth was wide and full of white teeth that were a bit uneven. That flaw could only be detected when Paolo smiled his broadest grin, and then only after looking a long time. Paolo smiled a lot and Markku looked a lot. The only one of the guys at that time who wasn't reacting in some way to the others was N'Komo. He had very short, curly, black hair and his smooth skin was almost as black. He was playing cards and enjoying it. Once in a while the others would see him lick his full lips and shift in his seat, when he was thinking of going to the bathroom and whipping his meat but good, but that thought usually passed. Of course, he wouldn't mind one or two or all of his fellow passengers in there with him, but he was in control of his feelings and knew when there was a time for sex and when not. He was very rarely wrong about that. This time, however, he was. Working in the café was Mahmet, a 22 year old Turkmenian. He had just finished clearing the tables after lunch and sat half-asleep by the cash register. Mahmet felt the electric heaters working overtime. The heat was making him drowsy. He stood up and went over to the climate control, where he attempted to lower the temperature a few degrees. It didn't seem to work. The knob turned without clicking as it should do when it passes the current temperature, and Mahmet decided that the controls wouldn't work. He gave up trying and sat down on one of the chairs at a table, resting his head on his arms. He fell asleep. The 22 year old Russian conductor, Yury, left the other bathroom, straightening his dark red uniform. He hadn't been masturbating, but he had been thinking about it, slowly pulling his foreskin back and forth over the shiny cock head, but finally wiping his ass and getting up. It always felt good to take a shit, and he often thought of how it would feel to have someone's cock up his ass. He guessed that that would be even better. Wondering about the unexpected stop, Yury went towards the intercom to talk to the engineer. As he passed the compartment where the eight passengers were, he opened the door and looked in. "I don't know why we've stopped, I'm gonna check what's up." He looked at Josh and Liu, who were leaning against each other in their sleep. The sight made his stomach quiver with those all too familiar feelings. He quickly shut the door again and went to the staff intercom next to the sealed door that was as close to the engine he could get without going out into the freezing cold. "What's going on, Dmitri?" he asked. "The track is blocked. There's been a small avalanche right in front of us." Dmitri said. "I don't think the track is damaged, and I've already called Central to let them know." he continued. "Oh yeah? What did they say?" Yury was getting a bit nervous. "The ones I talked to first seemed quite upset, to say the least. But they calmed down when I told them that nothing really is damaged. We still have electricity, so the cable must be intact." Hearing that, Yury relaxed a little. "Yeah, we're fine here too. The heat is still working. What are we going to do?" "They said they were sending a rescue team, but it'll take them at least 18 hours to get here in this weather, since they're gonna have to clear the tracks behind us at a couple of places, too. I told them we were going to be fine." "Uh-huh. We've got plenty of food here. It will be enough for at least three whole days, since we've only got eight passengers. How about you? You'll have to go outside to get here." "No, I've got my lunch here, and I bought a lot of food back there. I haven't been home for a month, so I needed to fill the refrigerator. Besides, it's freezing out there! I don't want to be going out till they get here!" "All right then. I'll tell the passengers. Talk to you later." Yury hung up the phone. This was going to be interesting. Yury went to the café to talk to Mahmet. He found him sound asleep, his head to one side, resting on his uniformed arms. Yury quietly sat down next to Mahmet and started to wake him up. First, he softly blew on Mahmet's black hair, causing it to move gently across his forehead. Mahmet did not react. Then, Yury decided to get a little braver. Knowing that any one of the passengers could walk into the café at any time, he slowly opened his mouth and extended his tongue. As he moved toward Mahmet's ear, he could hear his heart rushing and feel his male organ filling with hot blood. Reaching the earlobe with his tongue, Yury succeeded in waking Mahmet, but that did in no way mean that he stopped. After tracing his colleague's chin with his tongue, Yury then licked Mahmet's warm lips and ended up kissing him passionately. Mahmet responded and soon his tongue had slipped into the other's mouth, mingling the two young men's saliva and feeling their quivering breath. "Mmmmh, that's a nice way to wake up, man..." Mahmet reached over Yury's shoulders and hugged him closer. They kissed again. Mahmet rose and stood next to Yury, feeling their bulging crotches meet and rub against each other. "Oh yeah, I was gonna tell ya--the train is stuck and we're gonna have to wait here for the rescue team to come." Yury looked his lover in the eye and smiled, still holding him in his arms. "I think it's gonna be just great. We just have to tell the passengers and then we'll go to our compartment and...relax." Mahmet smiled, too, knowing what that usually meant. They went through the narrow hall outside the compartments with one arm hanging on the other's shoulder, but when they got to the door, they straightened out their uniforms and their appearance before they opened it. Yury stepped in first. "Good afternoon," he said. "There has been a bit of an accident. That's why we've stopped. Er... We probably won't get anywhere for about 18 hours. The track is blocked in both directions, so we have to wait here for the crew that's coming to clear it. We have food and water--free drinks if you like--and the electricity is still on, so there is no real danger. But if you have to be somewhere tonight, I'm sorry to say, you won't. You can use the phone in the café if you need to." First there was silence. Liu and Josh looked up, wanting to know what was going on and what had happened. Then everyone started talking. It turned out that none of the passengers really minded being stranded in the middle of nowhere, as long as there was free booze and some warm radiators. No one had had anything planned for the night--they hadn't been expecting much from that particular Siberian town anyway, so all in all this was a turn for the better. "Since you won't be doing much work for a while, why don't you sit down with us. Join the game." Mahmet and Yury almost looked at the other one for approval, but didn't. They were hoping not to be too obviously longing to be alone together. Mitchell continued: "'Course you'll have to grab a couple of chairs first..." Yury quickly went back to the café and brought not only two folding chairs, but also a large bottle of vodka. He was greeted with a roaring cheer from the guys when he returned. "Where are the shot glasses, man?" he asked Mahmet. "Don't worry, we'll drink out of the bottle," Markku said. Mahmet got up anyway, giving his cards to Yury. "I'll get them. You take care of this hand for me." When Mahmet got back, the bottle had already been passed around and the glasses didn't seem needed. He put them on the shelf above Liu and Josh. They were still not quite awake, but the vodka had got their blood pumping a little faster. Liu at one time had both hands in his lap. The tent was getting too visible... But he managed to control it and it went down again. The bottle came round for the second time. Paolo kept winning the game, and soon he wanted the others to start playing for more money. They all said no, not because they didn't have more but because they didn't want to lose more at every hand. The bottle had gone round a number of times, and the group was getting louder and looser. The vodka was getting scarce. Mahmet, seeing this, got up--with a "Whoa! I didn't drink *that* much!"--and went to the café again. He came back with two more bottles of the kind. Then Ernando got an idea to raise the stakes without having to give away more of his money to Paolo. "Hey, whaddaya say the one who loses gets to do something the winner tells him to?" "Sure. I'm gonna be hard on you, though." Paolo smirked, confident that his winning streak would last. Soon after, Liu decided to join the game, too. He got himself a chair and sat down between Paolo and Mahmet, who was sitting next to Yury. It was getting difficult using just one deck of cards as the number of players grew. Mitchell rummaged through his backpack and found another deck, which they added to the first. Then they had to improvise a few new rules to make the game work. None of them was all that bright after the first bottle of vodka, so it didn't really matter. They were having fun, anyway. Josh sat down between Paolo and Ernando. The first to lose a hand under the new rules was, of course, Ernando, the one who had made the suggestion. Paolo was just as naturally the winner. "So..." Ernando said, looking at Paolo. "Whatcha gonna make me do?" Paolo couldn't think of anything better than making Ernando take another sip of vodka, which everyone, Paolo included, thought pretty lame. When Ernando had taken his sip, they passed the bottle around again, ten pairs of lips feeling the glass, one after the other. It was already rather dark out, a cold winter evening, but inside the air was nice and hot. Hot and moist, actually. "Damn it's hot in here," Kaveem said, wiping beads of sweat from his face and brushing away a strand of hair from his eyes. "Yeah, but it sure beats being frozen. I tried to take it down a notch before, but the controls didn't work." Mahmet looked at Kaveem, holding his gaze just a bit too long. He liked what he saw. Lingering on Kaveem's sensuous lips Mahmet felt a familiar stirring between his legs. He turned his head and happened to look straight into Yury's eyes. The stirring got worse and he had to shift in his seat. Yury smiled at him and gave him a nudge with his right leg to get Mahmet to take a peek at his cards, holding them at an angle. Mahmet's erection started to get painful and he discreetly adjusted it. Yury noticed it of course and winked. On another level of consciousness, everyone noticed. Within a minute all ten were shifting in their seats and "discreetly" adjusting their full packages. The mood and the conversation was turning to sex. They decided to change the rules again. Mitchell was first to suggest it: "Since it's so hot here, having to take of your clothes isn't really that harsh either, but it sure beats that 'truth or dare' thing we've got going now. Whaddaya say, dudes?" N'Komo laughed. "Hey, truth or dare, that wouldn't be all bad either! Can't we do both? Or truth or strip?" The others liked both alternatives. A chorus of eight dark voices agreed to make a try: "Yeah." Not knowing what they'd really decided on, they played another hand. This time, Paolo wasn't the winner. It was Mitchell, and the loser was Markku. "OK, man... truth or strip or dare or whatever." "Truth." The guys booed. "Chicken!" Markku didn't take it too seriously. The vodka hadn't had as great an effect on his huge body as on some of the smaller guys, but he was waaay relaxed. "No, sssh, I'll ask him something. Er... When was the first time you used a condom?" Mitchell grinned, pleased to have turned the situation around. "I was fifteen," Markku said. "I wanted to give it a try, but I didn't really like it." "What do you mean? You never wear a condom? That's fucking lethal!" Markku smiled back at Mitchell: "Sure I do. But there are other ways of playing it safe, too, man. Besides, I'm so big I *can't* wear a regular condom. The standard size is just too tight for my meat." The others gawked at Markku. "What?" he said, wanting them to believe him. "It is!" Mitchell looked incredulously at him. Markku continued. "Well, I don't have to wear a lot of condoms anyway. I've had the same boyfriend for four years. But I guess I'm gonna have to start again now, since we broke up a month ago." Mitchell ignored the bit about the boyfriend, saying "Wow, a whole month without sex?" "Yeah, I haven't been in the mood, you know." Paolo looked at them both. "Whoa, whoa! Wait a minute! What's this *boyfriend* talk? You gay?!" "Come on, it's the nineties! You still have a problem with that?" "Well, yeah. Getting a boyfriend to hang around for four *years*, that is..." Paolo grinned. At first, no one said anything. Then someone started laughing. Quietly at first, then louder, making all the others laugh too. The tension disappeared, and they continued playing. During the condom talk, the seven guys not involved had been re-adjusting their now blatantly apparent boners, and Yury and Mahmet had been exchanging glances. Mitchell reached for the bottle down on the floor, but when he saw that it too was empty, he said "Hey, Mahmet, you got any beer over in that bar of yours? We'll save that last bottle of vodka for later." "Yeah, sure. I'll go get it." Mahmet waited till his turn was over and then he left to get the beer. Mitchell followed his uniformed ass out the door with his eyes, imagining what the skin could look like underneath the dark red fabric. Before he knew it, it was his turn again. He was loosing big and loving it. When Mahmet returned, carrying a whole lot of beer bottles, Mitchell was just removing his shirt on the orders of Liu. "It was your own idea, wasn't it?" Liu laughed. The beer went down fast, since they were all sweating rivers. Many of them kept returning their gaze to Mitchell's bare chest, where drops of sweat were trickling down the perfectly smooth, rosy skin. The nakedness didn't seem to bother him. His dark nipples were standing out in the chill that his evaporating sweat provided. When he was reaching for a new card, Kaveem noticed that Mitchell also had shaved his armpits. Kaveem started wondering if that smoothness was all natural, or if Mitchell maybe shaved other parts of his body too. Next to lose was Josh, who at the command of Ernando removed his shirt. He was not as defined as Mitchell, but he had a nice swimmers build and a thin dusting of hair over his upper chest, especially around the nipples. He wasn't sweating as much, either, but he dried his pecs with his shirt anyway, looking casually at Liu. Liu felt like his guts were on fire, and it was not because of the vodka mixing with his second bottle of beer. After a while, all were shirtless and dripping with sweat. Somehow the temperature in the compartment had gone up when they were wearing less clothes. They all found it rather odd. All but for N'Komo, who now was well aware of what was coming. Liu's chest was naturally smooth, and darker than Josh's, but otherwise he was of about the same build. Markku, on the other hand, had a more hair, of a golden blond color that went well with his fair skin, and a fantastic definition--almost as great as the professional bodybuilder that had been his boyfriend. Ernando had a hairy chest, too, and he was also rather muscular, but not like Markku. Paolo was hairless and had more of a swimmers build. Both of them had that Latin Lover dark hue that made the others shift once more in their seats. N'Komo was almost as muscular as Markku, but not quite. He had smooth, very dark skin which glittered with sweat. Kaveem enjoyed the sight, taking off his own shirt and revealing a well-defined, smooth chest and his newly shaven armpits. He wasn't as sweaty or as muscular as N'Komo, not even as muscular as the 2 years younger Mahmet, but he still looked good enough to eat--as so many men had pointed out to him while they were doing just that. Yury and Mahmet both looked embarrassed when their shirts came off. They had taken off their jackets much earlier--because of the heat and not because they had lost--and put them in a pile on the floor. Now they put their shirts on the same pile and looked at each other's chests. Mahmet was the muscular one, Yury was more of a swimmer. Mahmet was rather hairy, but the black, short, and curly didn't touch an inch of his back. Yury knew that the small amount of hair at the bottom of Mahmet's back continued below the line of his pants, spreading across his lover's firm ass cheeks. Yury had some chest hair, but it was more like the dusting of the pecs that Josh had. The reason for their embarrassment was that they realized that they were putting their clothes in the same pile, just as they usually did. Dressing in the morning is so much easier when two guys who have to wear the same kind of uniform are also the same size and sleep in the same bed, but now Yury and Mahmet were worried that it would be too obvious. It wasn't, of course, but then they saw the hickeys that practically *covered* their pecs and bellies... Everyone saw it, but no one commented. They felt relieved not to have to explain the situation to a bunch of guys they didn't know, even though they *had* been happy that the condom conversation and the revelations about both Markku and Paolo hadn't turned into a nasty argument. The hot air in the compartment was now full of human moisture, smelling of locker room and sauna. Simply breathing in the atmosphere was enough to keep the guys hard. The game continued, the guys laughing more and touching more for every hand. By accident or on purpose, they were bumping into each other and patting each other on the shoulder, rubbing their thighs against the guys next to them, feeling their own sweaty pecs with the palm of their hand and then landing that palm on the back of the next guy. When everyone had got both their socks off, Ernando was the first to lose his pants. Mahmet looked him over, noticing the distinct bulge in his crotch and smiling. "All right, you'll have to take off your pants. That's all you've got left, man." Ernando was getting red in the face, but he immediately complied with the rules he had suggested. He unbuckled his belt. Slowly, very slowly, he started unbuttoning his fly, trying to will his hardon down. When he got to standing up and pulling the faded blue jeans down over his thighs, it was much softer than before, but it was still very clear that he was excited. His boxer shorts were moist with sweat and clung to his skin like tights. The outline of his very, very thick penis was clearly visible to all who were looking on with interest. They all were. When Ernando sat down again, having pulled the trouser legs over his naked feet, thus turning the jeans inside out, Mitchell started clapping. The others joined in, and Ernando stood up and took a bow. From behind him, Mitchell could see the fabric rising up between Ernando's flexing buttocks. After that, things went pretty fast. It was almost as if the others wanted to lose, in order to join Ernando in exposing themselves. Josh, then Markku, then Mitchell, then Liu got their pants off, one after the other. Now five guys were almost naked, getting looks from the other five and each other as soon as they weren't looking in that particular direction. Boners were beginning to show again, even though they still wanted to hide them. All five pairs of boxer shorts had obvious folds and creases. Looking long enough, Liu actually managed to see the folds in Josh's crotch move as more blood flowed into the throbbing organ. When he looked up, he noticed Mitchell watching him. His face turned red, but Mitchell just winked and smiled. Liu suddenly noticed that Mitchell had a wet spot on his shorts, just as Liu himself felt that he had. Then Kaveem, Yury, and Mahmet lost, one after the other. Eight out of ten were sitting there with their boners practically in the open. Kaveem's shorts had a button fly, so Mitchell and Markku, who were sitting at the best angle, got a good look of his dark pubic hair and what seemed to be, but not entirely clearly was, the young man's swelling thang. Paolo had started winning again, and when it became his turn to remove his jeans, he and N'Komo were the only two guys still in their pants. Looking around the group of near-naked men eagerly eyeing him with raging hardons showing clearly through their boxers, Paolo put a hand down the front of his pants and adjusted his package before stripping out of his jeans. Unlike the others, he was wearing briefs and not boxers. His erect penis lay to the right over his hip, held in place by the strap of the briefs, which just barely covered its thickness and length. The last to lose his pants was N'Komo. He had been winning a lot, after a while telling the guys to take off just one sock, in order to prolong the game. Now no one but him was wearing anything, except for their shorts, and he had only his pants left. A thick ridge was visible along the inside of his right thigh, ending about a hand's width below his crotch. He first had one hand there, trying to cover it from sight, but the tip showed anyway, and as the others didn't bother about their obvious, unhideable erections, N'Komo had decided not to bother either. Josh smirked when his winning hand hit the table. "Off they come, N'Komo!" N'Komo smirked right back at him and stood up, unbuttoning his fly. He carefully folded the two halves of the fly to the side to show the guys what was going to happen the next second. N'Komo wasn't wearing any underwear. To be continued...