Gay Erotic Stories

“I’m cool.” He shrugged, shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back on the gate to watch me wash the truck.

I went on with my chore. Craig wasn’t the kind of guy to expect me to stop for him. He lived down the street and dropped by most anytime of day. We weren’t even good friends, just casual neighbors with nobody else around to talk to, hang out with. He was laid off from the rubber plant and I worked at home, when I worked. Back then I was doing layout and design for web sites. I usually worked at night when there were no distractions around. Like Craig. He was just at loose ends with no job, nothing to do. His wife worked days and took their little girl to daycare. Craig cut his grass about twice a week and then he was bored as hell. Any time he saw me in the yard he gravitated towards the companionable presences without demanding attention, just a need for sharing his silence. He didn’t talk much. When he did it wasn’t often the kind of thing people wanted to hear. He had a tendency to observe the obvious and a sever lack of tact. just not well socialized, crude. So I rarely encouraged his conversation but I tolerated his nearness because he was easy to look at and because he was not too damn concerned with modesty to wear old jeans with numerous holes and no underwear.

He was even more silent than usual that day, looking off down the street with an unfocused gaze that mechanically followed passing cars.

“You heard anything from the plant? About a call back?” I figured not, he would have told me.

“Nawh. Not a word.” He shook out a smoke and lit it, came a few steps closer to flop down in a lawn chair. “Probably next month, I’m guessing.”

“Yeah? Budget must be getting tight, huh? Does it worry you?” I backed up by his chair to spray the truck with the hose, rinse off the sudsy foam.

“Not really. Debra makes good money and I get the sub-pay, you know. Just so fucking bored.” He laid back his head and closed his eyes, blew out a long stream of smoke. I took the opportunity to check out the split seam in his crotch. Nice view if you were into that kind of stuff. I was. Still am. Sort of a hobby of mine, crotch watching. I always got real curious about men who wore pants with holes in the ass or in the stride. Didn’t they know people could look at that and get turned on? Didn’t they care? I guess Craig was just saving his work clothes, wearing the oldest stuff around the house and yard. My yard was just the same as his, no reason to dress up. But, damn, didn’t his wife sew? How’d she feel about his little peepshow?

“Well, at least you get to sleep late, right?” I probed a little.

“Yeah. I never get up ‘til the family’s gone.”

Right. So Debra doesn’t get a chance to veto his choice of attire.

“I don’t want to hear her list of shit I should do, either!”

Oops, sore spot there! I could hear the resentment in his tone. Avoid that subject. I wished he’d take his depression to bed, just sleep it off like I do. Why share it, I mean, huh? I finished up the truck and cut off the water, wound up the hose without much more to say. At least I got a nice shot of his dick to dream about. These teddy bear shaped guys; I always expected them to have little short, fat dicks. Craig had a pretty long tool in there. Not that I’d ever get to play with it, just fantasy material. I never even thought about making a move on him, too damn dull and morose. I like a little enthusiasm, some interest, a bit of charm to go along with my main meat course. He had the toys but not a playful impulse in his sour, dour personality.

“Hey. I’m done out here. You want a come in for a cup of coffee?” That usually got rid of him. He never came inside my house. I’d invited him in before. I wondered if he’d heard the old gossip. He probably thought it would stain his reputation to be seen going into my house.

“You got a beer?” He squinted at me.

“Uh …”, I was surprised. “Yeah, I think so. Kinda early, ain’t it?”

“What the fuck? Guess my watch is fast, huh?” He grunted and made a grimace. Was that humor? I think the man actually laughed, sort of.

“Hey, who cares, right? Come on in. Too hot for coffee, anyway.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” He shoved up out of the chair with a groan.

He followed me through the back door and glanced around, took a stool at the breakfast bar and turned around to lean back on his elbows. “Nice place.”

“Oh, thanks.” I must have said it flat. It was like a perfunctory social thing.

“No. I mean, really. I figured a man would have a mess, no woman to clean up. This looks good, better’n our kitchen!”

There’s another subject to avoid. I’m too neat to be straight, right? Craig is not the kind of man I want to come-out to.

“Here you go,” I handed him a beer, got myself one. “Let’s sit in the den. I told you about the big screen TV I bought, right?”

“Yeah. I never seen it, though.”

“Come on.”

Dammit! There’s the new copy of Playgirl right on the fucking coffee table! Craig walked on past me as I hesitated, tried to think of a way to get him back outside. “Shit! You got a big one, man!” He moved on around the couch and plopped down. “Is that a sixty inch?”

“Uh, it’s just a fifty two. Here …” I grabbed the newspaper and slid it over the magazine. “You can sit your beer on this.”

“I’ve been wanting to get one, maybe for Christmas … where’d you buy it?” He put his beer down on the paper. I could breathe again. Let’s have no dramatic scenes and accusations, okay? Damn, I never thought he’d actually come in the house. I just didn’t plan …

“You got cable, right?” He lit a cigarette, leaned back like he was prepared to stay awhile.

“Sure.” I hit the remote, bounced through a few stations.

“There’s no ashtray?” He was looking around at the nearest tabletops.

“Oh, sorry. In the kitchen … I’ll get it.” I handed him the remote.

Why did I invite him inside? I forget! Oh, yeah, the torn pants and the view of uncharted territory. I get really stupid when I’m in heat! I took the ashtray from the rack and dried it off. When I got back into the den he was flipping through the Playgirl. The TV was on a cable porno channel. I got that chilled, tingling feeling up my back … I think it’s called panic? I’m not afraid of being outed, it’s just that I’m not ready for a homophobic attack in my own house. I paused just behind the couch. I guess he heard me come in.

“Hey. I never seen one of these before. Heard about ’em.” He kept flipping pages. He sounded too damn casual… where’s the volcano?

“Here. The ashtray …” I held it beside his shoulder. A distraction?

“Yeah.” He reached up and took it but never glanced away from the full page, four color photograph of a leather daddy in chaps and a helmet … nothing else.

“Is this your girlfriend’s?”

“Well, uh …”

“My old lady wouldn’t ever look at nothing like this. She always wants the lights off and hurry up, you know?”

“A draft dodger from the sexual revolution?” I’d heard that somewhere, it just spilled out.

He laughed--a real chuckle this time. “You got it! She won’t even let me get this stuff on cable.” He pointed at the TV but he seemed more interested in the next layout, a carpenter who worked in boots, utility belt and a tank top. “Where they find all these guys with the big dicks? Are these real or they touch up the pictures?”

“I don’t know, man.” I eased down on the end of the couch. He was in the middle; I couldn’t sit very far away. “That’s the girl that does the soap commercial, right?” I stared at the TV like it was the most fascinating thing I’d even seen.

“Huh?” He looked up. “She looks familiar, yeah. Why don’t they just show it all, huh? I don’t get the point of porno without seeing the action. I mean, not like it’s a great story or good acting or anything.” He flipped a few more pages of the magazine and tossed it back on the table. “They don’t even show these guys with a hard-on. How phony is that, huh? You got any real porno? With wet shots and everything?”

“Yeah. One or two tapes, I think …” I tried to do a quick mental inventory. I used to have some straight porno, hadn’t looked at it since I got the gay stuff. “Let me see if I can find one.” I went over and opened the cabinet, skimmed the titles along the spine … surely I had one left …I didn’t hear Craig come up behind me, just felt his bulk shove my shoulder aside.

“Goddamn! You got a whole shelf full”, as he reached in for a title called “Hot Shots”

“Wait… Not that one… it’s …”

“Why not? It says triple X. Come on, man… put it in.” He started looking at the VCR, checking the buttons.

I found Debbie Does Dallas and snatched it from the stack, “This one is better, you’ll like it.”

“Hell, I like ’em all if they show everything!” He flipped his choice open and studied the tape jacket. “This is just dudes? No women?” He turned it over. “Hey, now, there’s a goddamn hard-on! Look at this guy! He’s fucking hung, man!” He held the picture up for me to see. “Put this one in, okay? I want to see somebody swallow that fucker!”

“But this one …”

“Let me see?” He took it and studied the photos of Debbie. “Does she blow anybody?”

“Yeah. Several guys!”

“Any of them hung like this guy? “ He shook the tape of Long Dong.

“Maybe… It’s been a while since I watched it. I just got these for parties and stuff, you know.”

“Yeah, right! Like you never jerk off to them or nothing!” He laughed. “Hell, man. Put something on! I’m getting a woodie already.” He went back to his center couch position and by the time I got the tape started and joined him he was already holding his crotch and grinning. “I’m warning you, dude. I’ll bust a nut for sure. I ain’t seen no real X rated stuff since I got married. Last time was at my bachelor party, no shit! That was a real good party, you should have been there. About twenty guys and we…” He was distracted by the screen. “Mother of … she’s got a rack on her, huh?” He squeezed the long lump inside his jeans and two fingers went inside the torn seam. He didn’t stroke it, just held it tight like it might get away if he let it go. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!” The camera did a full fifty two inch close up of Debbie down loading the guy, lips to his hairy bush. “How the fuck does anybody take that much down their throat, Jesus! Can you do that? Could you swallow his cock? I’d fucking choke, man! That’s gotta be hitting her tonsils!”

I flushed up, warm and sweaty. Did he actually think about what he said? My own cock pulsed inside my khakis. What kind of shit …? Maybe he was being funny? He was joking, right?

“I know I sound stupid, man. Sorry. I’m a sex freak, you know? Stuff drives me crazy! This ol’ girl, back in high school? She tried to blow me but all she would do is take the head in her lips and squeeze her eyes up tight. Acted like she was sucking a lemon or something … Man, if somebody would blow me like that I’d … no telling what I’d do, man! Anything! And I ended up marrying an iceberg! Wouldn’t you know it?” The scene cut away and he sighed, visibly relaxed. He grabbed up the beer and drained it. “Damn! It’s hot in here, dude! I’m sweating.” He peeled off his tee shirt and glanced over at me, suddenly ingenious. “You’re over there laughing at me, huh? A hick that never did anything but think about it … shit …”

“No, not at all… I’m getting a kick out of your enthusiasm. It’s fresh! Most people act so cool, like porno doesn’t do anything for them … I like it, too. Don’t feel like the Lone Ranger.”

“Yeah? Fuck. I bet you don’t even have a hard-on!” He studied my lap. My loose khakis hid the evidence under wrinkled folds of cotton.

“Yeah I do, too!” I grinned at him.

“Where? I can’t see shit. Where is it?”

“Right here.” I flattened out the canvas, smoothed my palm over the ridge that lay across my lap.

“Damn! You really got it, don’t you?” He reached over and grabbed a handful of my cloth covered cock, shook it. “Hey, don’t narc on me, okay? Don’t tell Frank (another neighbor of ours) or anybody I grabbed your dick, for real!”

“I can keep a secret, don’t sweat it.”

“Damn, that’s hot!” He squeezed me tight and jerked his hand away. He went back to the lump down his thigh. “You want to feel mine?” He wouldn’t look at me, kept his eyes on the TV.

I didn’t answer, just reached over and cupped the moist denim in my palm. The holes allowed my fingertips the teasing texture of naked skin. He sucked in his breath between clenched teeth. “Aw, god! That feels so good …” He reached for me, again. We sat like that a few minutes, just holding on. When his hand began the slow moves, the jerk-off slide, I followed his lead. He pressed his head back, lifted his hips to my grip.

“It hurts …” He touched the back of my hand. “It’s bent down and too tight.”

“Pull it up.” I told him.

He grinned over at me, “I thought you was gonna say, pull it out!”

I shrugged, “You want to?”

“I really want to take off my pants. Let’s get naked, okay? Let’s freak out!” His dimples winked at me, nervous but excited.

“Okay. Let’s do it.” Before I got my shirt unbuttoned he was naked, his cock stood up in his lap and he was watching me … helping me get the sleeves off. He unhooked my pants and murmured, “Let me …” slid my zipper down. I rose up and he tugged, slipped my pants and boxers down to my knees, went down on the floor to take off my shoes and peel the pants off my feet. He grinned up at me, a hand on each of my knees. He was no longer interested in the porno, didn’t even fake it … he leaned his face close to my cock, filled his nostrils with the scent. His eyes came up to lock on mine … there was fear there, and tension… and a question.

“Yes… go ahead… do it. Just do it. Don’t think about it…just …oh, yeah, Craig…. Mmmmm, that’s wonderful! All the way, yeah …”

He backed off, begged … “You gonna do me, too, right?”

“Yes… yes … anything you want, just don’t stop, not now…”

No more than fifteen minutes later we were spent, relieved and plastered together as we lay on the couch and tried to get our breathing and heart rate back to normal. I kept thinking about the torn crotch of his pants …. I’d seen them on him so many times … damn near every time he came over… I just couldn’t take a clue, could I? He’d been trying to get right here for months and I was so fucking dense! Okay, next time I see a guy swinging loose and naked inside torn pants I’ll remember … I won’t wait for the sledge hammer to fall! If a guy shows it off, it’s no accident. He’s just fishing with live bait.

....... jackertoo@aol.com ...........