Gay Erotic Stories

I woke up. It was clearly morning as the sun made it into the bedroom. I felt Scott’s head on my shoulder and his hand on my chest. He was cuddled up so close to me, like he was scared to lose me. I suddenly remembered it was Monday and looked at my phone. Two minutes before it was time to get up. I carefully turned off my alarm and silently left the bed. Scott’s body just flopped over onto the part of the bed where I had just been. He must have been exhausted after his episode last night.

I showered and got ready for the workday. When I came back into the bedroom to get my clothes, Scott had rolled over onto his back, spread across the bed. His muscular body looked so sexy and he wasn’t even aware of anyone looking. A short snore of Scott’s snapped me out of it and I silently got dressed. I left a note for him so that he knew where I had gone off to. I had a quick breakfast and went down to the lobby, where, just like every workday, Dennis was waiting for me.

I drove Dennis the same route I had used yesterday, along Peninsula Boulevard, to the Southern State Parkway. I changed onto the Belt Parkway to get Dennis to his job at JFK Airport. Dennis asked how the reunion with Scott had gone. I was very excited to tell him how great it had been to see him again. “I’m glad it went so well”, Dennis said. I decided to tell him about Scott’s episode last night. I had gotten to know Dennis when we studied psychology together. Unfortunately Dennis was one of the people, like many in our generation, who had not been able to get a job related to the degree he got. Of course I was interested in his opinion. “Does he have any other symptoms of PTSD?” “I don’t know”, I said. “And the hypnosis is working well on him?” “Very well.” “You could do a session with him, though it would worry me that you are also living together. It could affect the relationship.” “I’m sure it will, but I find it hard to predict in what way.” “He would be both your client and your live-in lover. It could go a number of ways. Just make sure to refer him to a different hypnotherapist once you feel like it’d be better, for his therapy or the relationship, or both.” I nodded. Dennis made a good point.

I dropped him off and drove the rest of the way to Brooklyn, to my practice. Because I had taken tomorrow off, today would be filled to the rim with clients. David, the large, muscular gay man who wanted to get rid of his addiction to party drugs, was up first. His big body almost fell out of my chair as he went under so deeply. Michael, the attractive guy who was crippled with anxiety, would always drool a little on himself. Today was no different. Rebecca, the lady who wanted to stop smoking, was the last client of the day.

Exhausted I drove back to JFK Airport and picked up Dennis. He had also had a long day. I told him that tomorrow I wasn’t going to work and that he could use the car. Once we got back to the apartment building, I wished him a good night in the elevator as I got out first. I put my key in the lock and smiled. I was excited to see Scott again. The idea that someone was at home waiting for me was new, but exciting.

I opened the door and the lights were dimmed. The table was set with a candle in the middle. I felt like my heart was going to explode. “Scott?” “Hey babe! Did you have a nice day?” Scott appeared from the kitchen in a crisp white V-neck T-shirt and dark blue jeans. He looked like a man from a Diet Coke commercial. “I think my day is about to get nicer”, I said. “Have a seat”, he said as he gestured to the table. “Here, let me take this”, he said and he took my bag. Still a little shocked, I walked to the table and sat down. Scott poured me a glass of wine. He smiled at me. “I am liking this homecoming”, I smiled back. “Well, I was walking around the area, bought some supplies, and, well… I practiced dishes in the kitchen all day.” I laughed. “So, don’t go into your kitchen right now, it’s a mess. And I promise I’ll clean it up. Wait here!” I sat at the table and turned my phone to silent. The setting was so romantic. My apartment had never seen anything like this.

A wide selection of dishes made it to the table, which indeed made me wonder what my kitchen would look like. But I decided not to worry about it. The food was delicious. I wanted to try a bit of everything, but there was so much I was afraid I couldn’t. Initially we talked about the day we had, but at one point Scott said he had something important to tell me. “When I woke up and remembered what you did for me last night, I just… I felt so happy to be with you.” His big brown eyes looked at me, lit up by the candle in between us. The wrinkle in his forehead was pronounced, telling me he was very serious, as adorable as he looked. At first I wanted to say it wasn’t a big deal, but when I saw his expression I stayed quiet. “I only just got here and Mel… you’ve already done so much for me. The least I could do is make you something nice when you come home from work.” “I am not complaining”, I smiled at him. Scott smiled back shortly, but remained serious. “I think it’s time for me to come out of the closet.” I raised an eyebrow. “I am starting to fall for you. I have never been attracted to another guy, but you, Mel… You’re just something else. So I guess that makes me bisexual.”

He paused. He still looked at me with a very serious face. I am pretty sure I had the widest smile on my face. “Congratulations on your coming out!” Scott’s face finally relaxed and he chuckled. I gave him a kiss across the table. I intended to just give him a short kiss, but it got more and more passionate. I put my cutlery down on the plate and got up, as did Scott. We continued to kiss as we maneuvered to the sofa, taking off our pants. Scott took off his T-shirt and stood there in yet another sexy jockstrap. He didn’t wait for me to finish unbuttoning as he went down to his knees, took down my briefs and started sucking my cock. I grew harder and harder in his mouth in just seconds as he made me feel so good. To look down on him and see his big brown eyes looking up at me, as if asking for approval, turned me on even more. After stroking his hair and his face as he blew me, I couldn’t resist holding on to his head and mouth-fucking him, only for a few thrusts. Scott gagged and pulled away from me. “Wow”, he said, as I saw his eyes watering. “You’re rough tonight”. “Do you like it?”, I asked. He nodded eagerly with a naughty smile and climbed onto the sofa on his hands and knees. He let his chest down on the cushion and spread his cheeks for me. “Unnghh…”, I uttered. “Do you like my asshole?”, he asked. “I love it”, I said as I quickly ran to the bedroom for lube and a condom. When I returned, Scott hadn’t moved an inch. I carefully lubed his hole with my finger, which was already quite the enjoyable experience for both of us. Scott started to softly moan, and I couldn’t resist letting my finger enter him. This caused his to gasp and moan some more, until I couldn’t wait any longer. I put the condom on and before I entered him, asked: “Are you ready for your first fucking as a bisexual?” “Oh, heck yeah!”

I am not sure why, but I was indeed more rough with Scott that night. His moans and exclamations became louder as I pounded him, making the sofa squeak below us. “Oh my God, Mel… oh my God…” Scott was now back on his hands and knees and looked back at me. “You’re fucking me so hard!”, he said in a volume that I was pretty sure made it through the other side of the wall. He sat up on his knees and reached back to kiss me. My right hand was on his chest as it travelled down across his abs. I held his cock tight as Scott grunted into my mouth. I felt the precum dripping down his shaft and balls.

When I broke the kiss, he asked me if I could fuck him on his back, so he could look at me. I pulled out of him and slapped his ass. Immediately Scott turned around and lay on his back with his legs up. I entered him again and his legs were immediately around my waist. I put my hands down beside him and lowered myself closer to him. We continued to make eye contact as I fucked him hard. It was by far our most intimate fuck yet. Sweat dropped down from my head onto his face, but he didn’t care. His hand was on my neck pulling me close. Our faces touched as I fucked. By his face and his grunts I could tell he was having an orgasm. Instants later I felt the hot cum on his abs and chest. This made me cum as well. I came inside of him, hard. A long, passionate kiss followed.

Together we cleaned the kitchen and did the dishes, in the nude. I couldn’t stop squeezing or slapping Scott’s ass while we did. When we finished, I gave him a big kiss. “Wanna get ready for bed? Tomorrow is a big day”, I said. Scott nodded. I turned around, held his hand and lead him to the bedroom. When we were all cozy and cuddled up, he got his serious look again. “I meant what I said, earlier”, he said. His voice was soft, almost a whisper. “I am falling in love with you. And I know it’s soon. I am not expecting you to say it back. But I need you to know it.” I nodded. I may have gotten a tear in my eye. He kissed me.

The next morning, I woke up with my nose touching Scott’s. He was still deeply asleep, just an inch away from me. I felt his warm breath on my chin and neck. He was holding onto my body tightly in his sleep, not unlike the previous morning. Any other person might feel smothered, but I did not. There was something about me and Scott together that just worked. Last night I was scared to tell him that I felt exactly the same. Just because of that little paranoid voice in the back of my head. Is he just doing this to take advantage of me? Would a guy like him really fall for a guy like me? Could I really have made him realize his true sexuality? Me, the awkward guy with the spotty face? Him, the handsome jock with the ass of dreams? Is it not just an act, so he can get a foot on the ground in New York? Thankfully, there was another voice in my head that shut these thoughts down completely and made me feel guilty for thinking them.

Scott looked adorable as he slept. I hope he had a good night’s sleep. He was probably going to be nervous about his meeting today with my friend Francesco, who is a chef. But I knew he would be fine and that Francesco would be willing to give him a chance. He had nothing to worry about. Yet I knew that he would.

Scott slowly woke up and immediately focused on me. He smiled. “Hey”, he whispered. “Good morning”, I said. Scott stretched. “Good morning. Wow. I can wake up like this every day”, he said. He put his head back on the pillow, looked down at my chest and ruffled his fingers through my chest hair. “So sexy”, he muttered as he slowly closed his eyes again. “Are you ready for today?”, I asked. He smiled, but kept his eyes closed. “Ready as I’ll ever be. You’ll be there the entire time, right?” His eyes opened for that last sentence. “Of course, I took the day off.” “Then yes, I am ready.”

We cuddled in bed a little longer and had breakfast. We went to the gym together. I had a subscription at Retro Fitness down the street, but only went irregularly. It was both odd and amazing to have Scott there for the first time. Working out together was great. However, behaving ourselves in the locker room and showers proved a challenge. A butt slap here and there when I knew no-one was looking, but nothing major.

At 84 degrees (29 Celsius), it was a great day. We decided to get a coffee to go at Stella’s, which was next door to the gym. We walked the streets back to the apartment. Scott’s red shorts showed off his amazing legs. Before I had realized, he had switched his coffee to his left hand and reached down to hold my hand. I felt butterflies all over my body as we walked hand in hand. I saw the stares, but something about walking with Scott out on the street like this felt natural. Back home, we got dressed and then waited for our Uber to take us to Francesco’s Place.

It had only been two days ago that I had driven to Manhattan to pick Scott up from the bus station. It felt like it had been longer. I realized I was driving, or being driven, the same route more and more often. If Scott was able to get a paid job, maybe we could try and look for an apartment together. It was probably going to be smaller, but definitely worth it. Our driver Connie didn’t take the tunnel, she went South through Greenpoint and Williamsburg, where there was some traffic. When we crossed the Manhattan Bridge, Scott loved the view of the skyscrapers. On Canal Street, I said to Scott, “Maybe we could live here one day”. Scott looked at all the shops and the apartments above them. The signage gave it away. “Is this Chinatown?” “Yeah”, I said. He continued to look around in awe.

Connie went in the direction of Tribeca as she took a left in front of the National City Bank, onto Broadway, and then there was a one-way called Leonard Street, that I immediately recognized as Francesco’s street. We crossed West Broadway and on the corner I saw the Starbucks above which his apartment was. Connie quickly dropped us off. I tipped her for the long drive. We opened the doors to the very classy lobby and said our names to the doorman, who politely invited us to take the elevator to the 7th floor.

It was only in the elevator I noticed Scott’s nervousness. I put my arm around his waist and said, “You have nothing to worry about. He looked at me, smiled and gave me a kiss.

When the elevator doors opened, there was Francesco. Short, tanned, mid-30s, and hair styled to perfection. “Mel! It is so good to see you!”, he exclaimed, as he wrapped his arms around my neck and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “And you must be Scott”, he said as he turned to my left. “Thank you so much for meeting me”, Scott said as they shook hands. “Absolutely no problem. Wow, you look like Captain America”, he quipped. Scott laughed. “Come in, come in!” Francesco invited us in and I immediately got house envy. I remembered how much natural light he got in this corner apartment, which had 8 large windows and views of West Broadway. The white walls and furniture gave the entire apartment a very light feel overall. Francesco gave us a short tour of the place. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw a beautiful master bedroom, a guest room mainly occupied by Francesco’s husband’s 14 year-old daughter from an earlier marriage, and a home office. The bathroom was so spacious, with marble walls and a walk-in shower as well as a bathtub.

“Coffee, tea, water, anything?”, Francesco offered as we walked back to the kitchen. “Water is good”, Scott said. “I’ll have a coffee”, I added. “Sit, sit!” Francesco sat as he gestured for us to take a seat on the white corner sofa in the seating area. The coffeemaker did its thing. “Can we move to a place like this?”, Scott said, knowing Francesco wouldn’t hear us. “Maybe one day. He’s very successful and married to a Wall Street guy, so…”

Francesco came back with a tray of two coffees, a water, and a small plate with some Italian cookies. “Have some cantuccini, I had them shipped from Tuscany”, he said as he held up the plate in front of me. After Scott and I had each taken a cookie, he put the plate back on the tray on the coffeetable, sat down in the white chair next to the sofa and didn’t have one himself.

Francesco wanted to know how I was doing and how long it had been. Soon, the conversation shifted to Scott. “And how do you know this hunk of a man?” Francesco didn’t let the fact that he was holding hot coffee stop him from gesturing a lot while he spoke. But he was clearly experienced as he didn’t spill a drop. “I’ve actually known Scott since high school back in upstate New York! He was the football jock, I was the geeky kid.” Scott smiled at me as I told the story. “But recently we bumped into each other again when I was visiting my family and we kinda hit it off.” I looked at Scott, but he faced Francesco. “I had known Mel as a quiet, awkward boy, a late bloomer. So my mouth was on the floor when he walked into a shop, where I was working at the age of 28… and he looked like this. I was impressed and embarrassed at the same time.” Francesco laughed, and I loved hearing Scott’s side of the story for the first time. “I needed a change, so Mel offered to meet up with you. I am very grateful to you both.” “Already? I haven’t done anything”, Francesco joked. Scott laughed. “Just that you are taking time out for me, I much appreciate”, he finished.

“So what experience do you have, really?” Francesco was now asking the hard questions. Scott had to admit that he enjoyed being in the kitchen at home, but that his only restaurant experience had been at Bub’s Pizza & Deli in Elizabethtown, where he had only worked for two years. “Well, that’s at least some experience”, Francesco said. “It wasn’t a very professional kitchen though.” “OK, well… Show me what you can do”, Francesco then said as he got up.

We walked to the kitchen. Appliances were all in metallic. There was a long white counter with stools. Francesco got some ingredients from the fridge and displayed them on the counter. He sat down on one of the stools and invited me to join him. “Scott, one of the items on our menu is stuffed chicken breast. It has eggplant, prosciutto di Parma, and provolone cheese. We serve it with a cherry wine sauce. I do not want you to make it how you think I would make it, don’t be afraid to put your own spin on it. Oh, and don’t take too long. Do you want another water?”

Scott went to work, as Francesco and I chatted. He said he’s now owner and chef of the Palminteri, but has opened a second restaurant, more fusion and experimental. “So now I own two restaurants and am the chef at one, it’s definitely been busy. How about your practice?” “It’s going well. I like being my own boss, I can take today off, just because I feel like it. But enough clients are coming in, definitely.” “It’s in Queens, right?” “Brooklyn.” “Why not open a practice here?” “Too expensive!” “Yeah, but you can also charge more”, he smiled. “You deserve to be successful”, he added. “You know what, I might know someone who has space.” “You’re so connected”, I laughed. “But yes, it wouldn’t hurt to try and have a look.”

“I get why you’re friends with this guy”, Scott piped up, for the first time joining the conversation as he was working hard at the same time. Francesco looked at me. “Shall we tell him the real story?” “Uhmm…”, I said. “I was in my late 20s”, he had already started. “This was like, 8 years ago, I think. I was a waiter with big dreams, but they just weren’t working out. I’m drowning my sorrows in a nightclub. And I see this young guy, thin, masculine, looked like he was smart.” “Don’t tell me you slept together”, Scott interrupted. I bit my lip and nodded. “That’s how most gay men in New York meet each other. You sleep together, realize you’re not going to be a good couple, and you stay friends.” “Well, I don’t agree, I have very few friends I met that way. I think you might be the only one”, I said as I chuckled. “I am so honored!”, Francesco said. Scott smiled at me. I could tell he liked hearing stories from my past in New York.

“So, are you the one who’s taking his donkey dick now?” “Francesco!”, I exclaimed. Scott wasn’t in the least bit shy and said, “I fucking love it.” We all laughed, but I could feel my face turning red. I quickly changed the subject.

Scott finished his assignment, and Francesco tasted it. “Not bad, not bad. You really have the chicken down. In the restaurant we have different proportions for the filling, but this also works. Now, have you ever made pasta yourself?” “No.” “Right.” Francesco got up, and pushed the plate Scott had prepared in my direction. It was heaven, I finished the whole thing as I watched Francesco teaching Scott how to use the pasta maker.

It was about 2:30, when Francesco said he had to go soon. “So, are you available Thursday through Sunday, starting 3:00 PM?” “What?” “Like, I can’t pay you a lot, but I wouldn’t mind some help in the Palminteri kitchen.” “What?! Thank you so so much!” “It’ll get you some experience to move on to bigger things with time.” Scott hugged Francesco tightly. “Careful, Captain America.”

I was so happy for Scott, it really looked like this was a dream come true for him.

To be continued….