Gay Erotic Stories

We stopped in Galena, Illinois that night; early enough to check into a motel, and quickly getting some directions from the desk clerk, went out for a brisk four-mile run around the pretty old town. We ran in just the same shorts we’d being “wearing” all day. My uncle was a regular jogger, and in great shape, but since I’d been in training for three sports all the year round, I found it was no problem to take the hills, and actually subtly eased up my pace to keep precisely even with Mike. We came back to the room, dripping. My hair was no longer floppy, but plastered to my head; and sweat ran down my hairy legs. Mike’s chest and belly hair was matted to his body with sweat, and his leg hair, instead of standing in crisp curls, in places was also flattened where the rivulets of sweat coursed down. The room didn’t have a bathtub, but it had a generous walk-in shower. We dropped our shorts, and stepped in together, and systematically soaped each other up. Though the shower was generous sized, we still filled it up, with our large bodies, especially since by that time we each had enormous erections, and any time we turned, we stood the risk of grazing our cocks against the smooth ceramic walls of the shower. I shampooed Mike’s hair, and then he mine. As beautiful as he was, when wet he was still more handsome. His hair ran all down his forehead; his body hair darker and seemingly even more abundant; his face shiny and clean, or as shiny as it could be under a three-day growth of golden stubble.

We toweled briskly off and went into the bedroom and flopped on the beds, enjoying the air conditioning on our nude bodies. I rolled over onto my stomach, and propped up myself up on my elbows and just feasted my eyes on my gorgeous uncle. I said, “Mike, you have no idea how I have always idolized you, every thing about you, since my earliest memories...” but there he interrupted me. “Mikey,” he said, “hold it.” He rolled over to face me and, and then got up and sat down right beside me, with his left hand on my firm, hairy butt. “Roll over,” he commanded, and I did, looking up at him. “Mikey, you just don’t get it, do you? It’s I who admire you. In every way, you are a better man than I ever was at your age. I was a baseball star, yes; but you’ve lettered in three sports and you took your club to the state championship, hitting two triples and three home runs in the series. I was valedictorian, but you are acing all your AP courses, courses we didn’t even have when I was your age, and you are leading your class. I was an eagle scout, but you made it three months earlier than I did. And your musicianship is far better than mine. You already have an inch on me already, and your shoulders are bigger than mine, and at the rate you’re going, you’ll soon put more on your chest, arms, and legs than I’ll ever have. And, look at you Mikey, you’re a fucking Adonis, from your beautiful eyes, your model’s cheekbones, your dimples and chin. And your body is youthful perfection, from your pecs to your abs, without a single ounce of fat anywhere; with your bellied biceps and big thighs. And don’t think I didn’t notice you cutting me slack on the hills out there this afternoon--and your furry legs and forearms, and your bubble butt, completely covered in golden fur.

He paused and then continued barrage of compliments, “But maybe most amazingly of all, Mikey, is that you are so completely unaware of how wonderful you are. You don’t seem to know what a mirror is; whenever someone greets you on the street back home you act as if they’ve given you some gift, just to recognize your existence, when in reality all the world seeks to be near you and just to catch your eye. You never seem to notice that when you walk into a room everyone turns to stare. Yes, whenever I’m home, I like spending time with you; and when we are apart, I do like to keep up with you by phone or email, and know what’s happening in your life. But it’s not avuncular condescension, Mikey; it’s that I’m truly awed by you, that I truly admire you and I love you in so many ways.” While he was telling me this, all of which just amazed me, he had his left hand on my belly, just beneath my hard-as-rock dick. Two fingers were gently curved down toward my scrotum, but touching my phallus; the other three were buried in my almost-blond bush of thick public hair, and my cock lay upon them, as Mike slightly moved them. I was stunned by what he had said to me.

He quietly said, “Mike” (not ‘Mikey,’ this time), fuck me.” But I couldn’t. Not just then. I said, “Uncle, I’d do anything in the world for you, anything, just name it. But I’ll never fuck you until you’ve fucked me good and proper, three times.” (And, I could have added, shown me how to do it. Actually, I had never experienced anything of the kind, and though of course I had heard stories for years, and even seen some scenes in videos with the guy’s home, I wasn’t really sure how it worked. While I was sure I could figure it out, I definitely I felt that my idol, my uncle, should fuck me than vice-versa.)

So he said, “Okay, nephew, let’s get started then.” But what he did next rather surprised me. Instead of taking me and seizing m--or something of that sort, he began with a very elaborate foreplay. He said, “Spread your arms and your legs, and until I tell you, don’t move.” On the big bed he again began kissing me all over. He started with my left hand, and kissed it all over, fingers, palm, and back of the hand, and then pressed it to his face with his hand. Then he released it, and did the same with my right hand, but this time he slowly caressed my forearm, on its back, where my golden hair was thickest, and then on its inner side, where the veins were more prominent; and so with my left forearm, and there he kissed very delicately the inside of my elbow, and then worshipped my left bicep, and nuzzled my left armpit.

Though we were fresh from the shower, already I was exuding a strong aroma from my pits that I could readily smell, but he lapped up my rich sweat. And did so with my right elbow, bicep, and axilla. Then he straddled my waist, such that my erect phallus was caught between the cheeks of his butt, resting in the thick tangle of hair there, and supporting himself on his hands, he leaned down and kissed my face all over, from my hairline and ears to my chin. And then he worked his way down my now bristly neck--I hadn’t shaved since just before going to the dentist now 2 days ago--and to my chest. I had known that making love to my girlfriend’s breasts and nipples could drive them crazy, but I’d never known or even suspected that I could be driven to the edge of ecstasy by the same methods: but Mike knew, and he did cause me to tremble and buck . He scuttled backward, now straddling my thighs and then lower legs as he ruffled through the dense but still fine and golden vellous hair on my chest. Then he came to the mature, or thick and heavy terminal hair that was developing in a notable line several inches above and leading to my navel, beyond which it then spread in a dense and widening band across my lower abs, merging with my heavy growth of dark gold public hair. For a moment I lost contact with him as he repositioned himself near my feet, and begin the same worship of my lower limbs. I was thinking, “This is fucking me?” But he knew what he was doing, and he told me to spread my legs again, and once more he knelt between them and began a new lovemaking to my phallus, at an entirely new level. This time he had commercial lubrication, and it was an entirely different experience. Though he was very careful to be deliberate, and every stroke was planned, from short, gentle ones to start with, moving on to firmer and longer ones, after about six or at most seven minutes, I knew in his miraculous hands I couldn’t last much longer: And maybe four strokes before I knew I’d explode, he stopped entirely, and retreated and didn’t touch me anywhere. Slowly but definitely I edged away from certain orgasm, and the pounding in my chest slowly subsided, and my breath came now more regularly instead of in gasps, and my tumescence eased slightly from the highest state of urgency to a plateau just below that condition, but to a state in which I knew I could endure.

After 30 seconds, he touched me again, but ever so slightly: the hair on his left forearm brushed the hair on my right calf--and then nothing for another 20 seconds. From this tiny start, he slowly and gradually re-engaged. He moved to finger slight strokes on my calf, and then the same on my left calf; and then to the front of my thigh, just above the knee, and then back to my right leg, to the inside of my thigh, and then to and then to the upper part of the inside of my thigh, quite close to my crotch. But while I was returning to a high pitch of excitement, it was a more general and peripheral excitement, instead of being concentrated in my genitals as before. My confidence grew both in him and in myself that I knew then that I would not suddenly explode, and he would not cause me to, without a specific determination on his part.

He pulled me to the edge of the bed, and taking charge of my powerful body he swung me around so that my legs fell off the side of the bed. He gently grasped my ankles and pulled them up and set them against my fuzzy butt, and then he knelt down and generously applying the lubricant on his fingers he massaged the area between my scrotum and anus, where the hidden root of the phallus lies, in my case like his, a dense tangle of dark blond hair. And as he massaged, first one, and then two of his slippery fingers entered my body, tentatively at first, and then more firmly, seeking and exploring. It was a totally new experience for me, a little frightening, and also very exciting. Finally, he had two fingers all the way up to the last knuckle, when he removed them, and added more lubricant. During all this I lay back with my eyes closed, but all my other senses heightened. Every tiny touch of every hair was almost electric to me. My penis was once again raging, though it hadn’t been touched in minutes.

Mike then quietly and definitely said, haul your legs up over your body, and grab each of them behind your knees. This was very easy for me, for I was very flexible, and Mike easily parted my legs.

Mike stood at the bed, and adding still more lubricant to his penis, he poked slightly at my anus with the very tip of his phallus. Thanks to the lubricant, and his preparation of me, and the shape of the hood of his phallus -- and the stoutness of the erection behind it -- the first half-inch penetrated surprisingly easily. There Mike held for 15 seconds, withdrew slightly, and gently and firmly resumed his motion, and this time I gasped as the entire head of his cock passed my sphincter. I was amazed at how sensitive my rectum was and how distinctly I felt the well-defined flared ridge of his corona just enter my body. I felt distended, engorged; totally filled--and so far only one inch of Mike’s manhood was joined with me. Slowly, slowly, he introduced another quarter inch, and then another, and then withdrew; his coronal ridge again passing my sphincter. A new attack resulted in two inches of penetration, and I felt as if I had somehow been completed, becoming a new man.

Slowly, Mike withdrew, but only an inch; and resumed, this time penetrating three inches. Another withdrawal, another penetration, this time four inches; and then an almost complete withdrawal, right to the point at which the flare of his glans was catching on the circle of my sphincter, and with slow deliberation he sank his entire shaft into my body, so that his balls were pressed against my butt. Knowing it was my magnificent uncle, my pole star for years, united with me in the most profound way that two men can be, I was raised to still a new level of exhilaration, never hitherto met, a joy, a sublimity beyond all my experience on earth . I opened my eyes, and locked with those of my uncle, only a few inches away. Slowly he pumped, withdrew, pumped again, withdrew, with a rhythm that I could only call masterly in its control. Eventually I saw a flicker of question cross his face, and I nodded slightly, but he caught my every nuance. And then he grasped my phallus, now as distended and urgent as it had been before he had strategically ceased touching it, and with three more mighty pumps of his shaft, and three synchronized twisting slippery but firm pumps with his hand on my own shaft, we both exploded: he deep within my body; and I up my belly and chest and into my face: first once, then twice, then twice more, responding to his masterful strokes on my phallus.

Without withdrawing, he leaned over to my face and kissed it everywhere, spreading my cum everywhere: in my hair, on my nose, on my chin, dripping from my jaw line; and likewise it was in his three-day beard and in his hair, now wet with sweat.

Slowly pulling out, quarter-inch by quarter-inch, until we were no long united, he bodily picked me up and rotated me onto the bed, and then collapsed along side me, flinging his arm across my body, and nestling his head this time on my chest . And this was the evening of my second night on the road with my uncle.

To be continued.