Gay Erotic Stories

Besides public toilets, you could always risk blowing a guy at your own apartment. So early in my 20's, I started to leave notes on toilet stalls in my town. But only some major league faggot would do that kind of thing. I didn't do drag or mince around effeminately, so that couldn't be me, I thought. Yet my own bathroom-wall descriptions said what I denied: Cocksucker. Will suck your dick. Gives blowjobs. Call this number. And that ... was my handwriting, a public announcement in blue ink that I was a 24-year-old faggot. No way around it. Then calls came, asking me if I sucked dick, and I said it out loud -- yeah, I did. That was my voice I could hear, saying I would suck a dick! What innocent youth.

So, the guys came over, strangers, to get their meats sucked by a sure-enough queer. Among them came a high school student, a working-class blond who wore glasses. Halting just inside the doorway, he paused, hand to his buckle, until he saw me go to my knees and was sure he could proceed. He undid his thick, wide belt and shucked his jeans about halfway down his almost hairless thighs, then sliding down soiled white cotton briefs to expose his crotch to my face. He was a bit pudgy, yet had a somewhat smug, masculine demeanor for his age. He slid his underpants down, and I moved in on his already half-hard, circumcised penis. His blond pubic hair wasn't yet filled out, and it stank of unwashed piss, though that was part of this deal I'd signed for on those walls, after all.

He rested his hands on his hips right where his dingy undershirt ended, and waited to be serviced. As my mouth took in his penis he got bone hard. This may have been his first blowjob ever. His testicles hung low and heavy in the humid spring heat of my apartment, and I massaged his nuts lightly as I first sucked. He gazed down at me, and in under a minute I got the payoff any fag lives for. With his glans sliding right past the front of my tongue, this kid shot the most virile, high-pressure gusher of cum I've ever felt. It sprayed the back of my throat like a fire hose on that first shot, and each shot that followed sprayed my throat with a massive gob of the strongest, most pungent cum I've ever to bathe my throat. The pulses came in rapid, split-second jets and my eyes almost burst out of my head in surprise. The taste, the force of the load and the circumstances were so steaming hot that I jack off to this day recalling that "fire hose shot." He buckled up fast and left. But he liked it, and he came back twice more. The next time, he shot off twice. The third time, he had sat to talk a moment; and afterwards stood up, faced me where I sat, and unbuckled in silence. Each load was pungent and powerful, and each time he did it the same way, jeans shucked halfway, hands on hips, staring downward.

Around that time a university student answered one of my stall ads. He was blond and medium thick in build, except that his belly was getting fat, a fact that oddly turned me on. He wanted his circumcised meat sucked, and took off his trousers and underpants, leaving his shirt on. He had average length with above average thickness, especially toward the head, and a nice blond pubic spread, though he was quite smooth overall.

This student wanted full service, having me suck his nuts as he raised his legs. And from his nuts, he coaxed me down further between his legs, where his hair was sparser. Then, raising his legs back with his arms, he directed me to go all the way. I had never gone there before, but I knew it was time. I could smell the musky fragrance as my tongue went ever lower, and he spread his cheeks more insistently. At last it happened. My tongue touched his sparsely haired rectum. He went wild, and within seconds I was licking it and cleaning it off. The bitter taste on my tongue told me I was now officially a shit-eating pervert. I couldn't believe I was doing it, but he had me where he wanted me, rimming out his pink hole, and even got me sucking on his protruded rectum. This was what turned his crank, and before I knew it, he had gotten my tongue to penetrate his hole. My lips covered his rectum, and my tongue actually touched a turd inside.

This guy was going ape over the ass-eating he was getting. When time came for my reward, I pulled up to see copious precum oozing from his club-like dick all the way onto his hairless navel. Seconds later, gobs of salty semen filled my mouth. Once wasn't enough for this guy either and he made a return visit to have his ass eaten. A third and fourth time he came by, but only for blowjobs on the run, and I never saw him again. Though his ass was naked of hair, I was to learn that I had a special attraction to hairy assholes. Like the other men, he helped steer me toward what I really needed, and I was slowly gaining a twisted thrill at my own power to service men in ways they had never known.

About 1987, I brought home an ex-con who claimed to have had slaves in the Texas pen and needed service now. He was really bi, maybe even straight, with a girlfriend and a daughter back home, but he wanted a chump he could use right there. I knew I had to be careful with that fuck-head. He had already given me a hard shove over some trivial matter, and using people up was his stock and trade, though he was dumb as a stump. This con had badly done prison tattoos, longish, unkempt dark blond hair and a fine, dirty, mousy moustache. With my clothes off, he raised my legs up off the bed to fuck me. His hardon was cut and just average, but he had the method of a master. He threw my right leg over his shoulder, the left one quickly around his waist, and with my tail in this odd but comfortable position, he shoved it in and fucked me like a rabbit, shooting off in short order and making me remove his rubber afterwards.

We had a couple of meetings like this, but he was intent on stealing my car, so I finally had to back away. I heard some time later that the cops were looking for him, and I imagine he's back in prison to this day, where, no doubt, he belongs. I liked his no frills fucks, but what really turned me on was that he was -- is -- a convict. I fantasized about sucking con dick in prison from then on. Being gay was still a crime. In reality, I knew at any moment I could be in a cop's handcuffs, fated to end up in prison sucking dicks as a slave. It never happened: I was too slippery for a cop to trap. Still, I knew how much society wanted me behind bars and the how the cops wanted me punished for being a dick sucker.

The men kept coming, mostly bi, wanting quick blowjobs, or to see what a real, live fag was like. About age 30, I let in another heavy-set man. He was a bit older, crew cut with a small, grizzly moustache, and as soon as I shut the door and sat in a chair he got down to business. Standing before me, he undid his pants and pulled out his modest, cut member, which was nested in sparse, graying hair in his boxers.

This guy wanted control, and he gripped my head with both hands. An instant later, his pud was in my mouth and his muscular forearms started just smashing my face into his groin. He had left his pants up, so his thick belt buckle hung in the way. But he held my head in a viselike grip, slamming me up and down on his dick and plastering my face and nose on his buckle. He was too strong for me to get free of, and the buckle slapped on every down thrust. He knew it and didn't care, and all I could do was endure the pain because he was too strong. Slowly, I dropped my hands. I needed to service this guy however he wanted so that he'd cum and the pain would stop. Reflexively, I kept trying to pull off, but his hands had my head in a lock, hurling my face into his buckle. Finally, he shot off, zipped up and left, leaving my handsome face banged up and my dark brown hair in tangles. I staggered to my bed to jack off. My head felt like a basketball, and I could feel now what kind of sex I was good for. I had just been skull-fucked. Something about my face made men want to abuse it, and I'd be better off just accepting that fact.

Until next time...