Gay Erotic Stories

Shit, I think I’m fuckin’ goin‘ nuts. Goddamn, who’da thunk it would happen to me. I was always straight as a freakin’ arrow all my life. The fuckin’ fag had to come into my life...

I sat at the computer that day looking over the record of deliveries at Tire City, the repair shop I work at for the last ten years. It was a very slow morning, and the icy snow falling outside made the parking lot look like a frozen lake. Not a customer had pulled in since we opened two hours earlier. I looked up to see a white Mustang convertible drift into the driveway and slide to a stop at the door. They may be fun in the summer, but they’re a bitch in snow: no weight in the back, they slip around like a toboggan. I could see one tire was almost flat. I motioned through the plate glass window for the driver to pull around back, and I went through to meet him. The throaty ‘Stang pulled into the bay in a swirl of wet air. I smelled the hot engine under the hood as the driver shut it down.

Now, let me set you straight, I never thought of homo sex with a guy, but I couldn’t help noticing this one. He was certainly different than the gang I hang with. Girly smooth face with two dimples like quotation marks around his mouth. Well dressed in dark wool slacks and a cream-colored knit shirt that clung to his chest. I saw his nipples under the thin fabric, perky and erect. I’ve always been a tit man, used to drive my wife nuts, sucking on her nipples till they were red. My only thought the day she left me for her personal trainer was that I wouldn’t ever get to taste those boobs again.

He was thin, but defined. I watched his legs flex as he squatted next to the punctured tire, showing me the spike he had picked up on the road somewhere. The rim was badly bent, a tough repair on chrome wheels. I leaned in behind him and could smell his shiny yellow hair, sweet and fragrant, like it was just washed. What the fuck!

Scrambling to my feet, I returned to the desk to write up the repair. The snow continued to fall as he followed me in, and introduced himself to me.

“My name is Justin, nice to meet you.” He said in a soft, wispy voice. He sounded a little faggy, but not effeminate. Cultured, y’know what I mean? I told him my name was Robert, but call me Rob.

“I don’t have much cash with me, you take charges?” Justin confided to me. “And, how long do you think it will take to fix? I can’t walk home from here, especially with this snow!”

Ya, we take charges, but I explained that there were several jobs before him, so he could get comfortable in the waiting room, or could watch me in the back for a while. He chose to come around to the shop, and I gave him a cuppa my crappy coffee. Figured it would put some hair on that chest of his. Damn, that chest!

Sometimes, when it’s slow like this, I get a little horny. On the workbench next to the car bay I keep a stack of raunchy magazines, and occasionally I slip into the washroom to take care of business between jobs. I looked up from under the hood of a big brown Caddy I was working on, and saw Justin flipping through one of them. He smirked and looked over to me, and our eyes met. I smiled back.

“Ass Man” magazine...full of big-busted women with dark sloppy cunts getting fucked up the butt by big burly dudes. It was one of my favorite issues. There’s a group of pictures taken in a workshop, this big black man just plugging a bitch, right there on the bench. Her huge white tits were pinched into large metal c-clamps, the kind that you twist to tighten. You could see the agony in her face as the twelve-inch dick slid into her ass. I got hot just thinkin’ about it. I wondered what this little faggot Justin thought of the shots?

Justin looked from the magazine, and back to me. He reached for his belly, and started to rub himself under the sweater.

I couldn’t concentrate. The image in my head of the bitch getting fucked kept getting mixed up with Justin, rubbing that flat belly. I asked Justin to come over and hold the work light for me. Shit, I was probably gonna jerk off this afternoon anyway, why not let this pussy-boy do it for me? He leaned into the Seville and pressed his hip against my shoulder.

“That okay, Rob? You got enough light?” He asked. “Was that your magazine? Pretty hot stuff. Sure looks like they are having a ball, huh? You ever have sex here in the shop?” I knew where he was going. Hell, this kid was just askin’ for it! I wiped the grease from my hands and grabbed him by the arm. He came willingly to the shop bench. I opened my Mack Truck belt buckle and unzipped my pants as Justin dropped to his knees in front of me. He took my hardening dick in his hand and put the head up against his soft pink lips. My boxers fell around my ankles as I slid into his mouth.

I’m a big man, in case I hadn’t told you, used to play football in high school. My body has gotten a little stocky since then, but I still turn the ladies heads when I enter a room. My chest is broad and covered in brown hair. My arms are pumped, the biceps the size of cantaloupes. They stand out from my body giving me a gorilla look; some women really dig that. My belly is big but hard, and also coated with fur all the way down to my pubes. My cock is long, no bitch ever complained ‘bout that, except that it’s also really thick and can be a pain if her cunt is too small. The fag was having some trouble sucking on it, I felt him choke as he tried to adjust to the fat fucker pushing on the back of his throat. (Too goddamn bad, you wanted it now take it!)

I picked up “Ass Man” and turned to the pics of the bitch’s ass all stretched and slippery, the dude’s big black pole slipping between her pink cheeks. Shit, that turns me on! I grabbed Justin’s curly blonde head and pulled it into my crotch. He moaned and gagged. Justin pulled himself off my cock and looked up to me. “You like fucking ass? I’m okay with that, if you wanna try...” he whispered. “Just like in the magazine?” I saw lust in his eyes, he was hot for my dick, but I knew he had to be a little scared to take my salami up the tube. Shit, man, why not? I just wanted to nut, and his warm tight asshole would be a great place to do it. I figured he knew I wasn’t no fag, and he wasn’t gonna get nuthin’ from me other than a thank you.

I pulled out of his mouth and reached to turn off the overhead lights. The bays were locked, so we could have a little privacy. He stripped down and waited for me to make the first move. I turned the bitch around and pushed his shivering body up against the cold steel of the worktable. His skin felt soft and smooth, like a girl’s, as I pressed my hairy belly into the small of his back. I reached around him and fondled his smooth chest, holding the hard pink nipples in my big greasy hands. Damn, he smelled so good! I found myself nuzzling into his neck, like he was a fuckin’ chick!

He was groaning and sighing, his back arched, his chest thrust out as I twisted his nipples. My cock was throbbing against his ass. The magazine was open on the table in front of us. I saw the woman’s cunt, pink and fleshy, the big ebony cock coming up between her legs as the man fucked her shithole. Justin reached back and pulled on my fat ass, forcing my cock between his milky-white globes. I reached for the pump bottle of liquid detergent on the counter, and smeared a gob of slippery soap onto my dick. I pushed him forward onto the bench. He clenched onto the sides and held on as I grabbed his ankles, pulling up and apart, wish boning him. His ass was open to me as I stood behind him, on his belly, his little dick pressed into the metal countertop. I put the magazine on his back for inspiration and aimed my meaty cock at his quivering ass.

He screamed as I pushed the head past his puckered asshole. I pulled his legs further apart, so I could get my dick lined up good with his man-cunt. His scream subsided to a wail, then a whimper. I pack about ten inches, and the boy had at least six of ‘em in his gut. I turned the page. A tight shot of the big black dick, covered in veins and shiny with lube, stretching the whore’s ass beyond belief. It had to be the thickness of a beer can. I looked down to my own meaty pecker, sliding into Jason’s hot little ass. It looked fuckin’ awesome. Someone should be takin’ pictures of this! I pushed the magazine aside so I could concentrate on Jason. I thrust my battering ram into his ass, another inch, another, and my balls smacked up against his.

“Oh shit, oh please Rob, stop, stop! You’re so fucking big! Let me get used to it, man!” He cried. I pulled up on his ankles, raising his hips off the bench, his back arched and his smooth chest pressed into the tabletop.

I knew he wasn’t gonna get used to it, he might as well try to deal with it. Don’t know if it’s the same for faggots, but women tell me that with big dicks, after a while the pain becomes like a pressure, like your gettin’ punched in the belly. They say if you can take the pounding, it’s really satisfying to be that full of dick! Jason looked so pretty, so slim and pale on the gritty steel table. I looked down on his handsome head, delicate neck, wide smooth shoulders tapering into a sexy little bubble-butt. Nuthin’ like the fat sluts I’ve been screwing lately. I loved the sight of my belly slapping on his cheeks, my hairy crotch pressed between his legs, my boner wedged deep in his butt, disappearing into his asshole. I smelled the lemon fragrance from the soap that I was whipping to foam in his gut. I’ll never forget that smell.

“Man, you’re the best. (ungh) I’ve never been fucked like this. (ungh) You are so big, (ungh) and so fucking hot.” Jason panted, as I thrust myself into his pussy. “I can’t believe this is (ungh) happening, and that I’m taking the whole goddamn thing! (ungh) Damn, you bastard!”

I hit home; my cock was grinding against his prostate deep inside of him. I felt him shiver just before he came. His body bucked up, and his hips thrust forward. I was still holding his ankles, pulling his ass off the table, and saw his boy-cum pool in milky drops under his cock. I was glad he came on his own, ‘cause I knew I wouldn’t be able to do nuthin’ for him. I just couldn’t touch a guy’s equipment, y’know?

I felt close. I let go of Jason's ankles, and pressed my chest into his back. He sighed as he felt my weight on him, overwhelming him, driving my dick deeper into his warm, slippery hole. I kissed his neck again, what the fuck? He was pretty well stretched out, but still felt nice and tight around my shaft. I felt his sphincter flexing and pulling at me as I slipped the meat in and out of his muscular ass. Damn, this fag was talented. His body slid on his own cum as I fucked him on the metal table. He put his arms up behind his back, and our fingers interlocked. He slid forward as my crotch bounced on his thighs... then I pulled back on his hands, skewering him again on my plump meaty shaft.

“Cum, man, please, I can’t take much more of your fucking telephone pole up my ass!” Jason shouted. “Shoot your fucking hot cum in my hole!”

I pulled Jason towards me, and wrapped my arms under his armpits. I put my hands behind his neck and lifted him writhing from the table. I steadied myself, adjusted Jason’s weight, and pulled him up off my cock. Releasing him, he fell back onto my erection with a thud. I nutted right there and then, his trembling body impaled on me like a stuck pig. I don’t remember ever unloading so much fuckin’ cum at one time. I kept pumping it up his chute until it ran out of his ass and down his legs to the oily linoleum.

I fixed the ‘Stang, no charge. What the hell, he sure deserved some sort of reward for throwin’ me a fuck like that! He gave me his cell phone number. I told him I didn’t think I’d be callin’ no fag anytime soon, but he wanted me to have it, anyway. I got him stuck in my head, man. I can’t look at the magazines anymore without thinkin’ about his slender waist, firm ass and deep man cunt.