Gay Erotic Stories

Alan stood up first, and I could see the front of his trousers tenting out, just like mine was doing. He looked at me and smiled, then straightened his cock with his hand. “I’m starving, Mr. Ferguson, and for more than the food you cooked,” he said, “But we’d better eat some supper first, to build up our strength.” I must have blushed, because he smiled again. “You did say you wanted to go all the way,” he said. “I hope you meant it.” We walked into the kitchen and within a couple of minutes I had the dinner on the table. I cracked a bottle of wine and we toasted each other and drank freely. We took our time with the meal. Alan wanted to know more about me. “I didn’t want to be gay,” I told him. “I tried hard not to be. I married so I wouldn’t be. But I am, and you are the first person I’ve ever told. This is the first time I’ve really admitted it, actually, even to myself. “You see, my father was very strict. He used his belt a lot, if he thought I was being bad. He would have killed me, I think, if he thought I was gay. Better a dead son that a gay son, I think. Gays were called fruits in my day, fruits, or queers, or homos, lots of names were used. Fruits were open game for any of the bullies at school. There were only a few at school who were open about it and they got beaten up regularly, but kept coming back for more. I guess they craved the attention from the boys, even if it was getting beaten up. No way I was going to let people know I was gay. I kept to myself. I was big enough that no one tried to beat me up. They just sort of ignored me. “We were poor, and I had to work hard as a kid. I had no time for friends: no one to share secrets with. I had no one like you in my life. I am so glad that Geordie had you. I could never have helped him through it. I wasn’t even able to help myself. “I learned to jerk off all by myself. No one showed me. The first time, I think, I rubbed myself into my bed sheets until I came. I remember how scared I was, but how good it felt. I soon learned to hold my cock in my hand and catch the cum with a tissue. That way, I kept my sheets clean. I never did anything else, and I never did it with anyone else. “When I got married to Geordie’s mother, she had to show me how to have sex with her. I knew what to do, but didn’t know where to do it. I’d never seen a woman naked before our wedding night, and even then I didn’t get a very good look. We did it in the dark, under bed sheets. Even then, I couldn’t get excited at the sight of her naked body, so we always had sex in the dark. She would take me and guide me in. I could do the rest, but I couldn’t’ touch her there. It made me feel dirty. Sometimes I couldn’t get hard and she’d have to masturbate me to get me going. Other times I would go soft while having sex with her. It was awkward. It wasn’t her fault, but she’d get mad and turn her body away and my soft cock would slip out. I don’t think she enjoyed having sex with me any more than I enjoyed sex with her. “Once Geordie came along, our lives changed. I wanted Geordie to have a better life than I had. I worked extra hours, building up lots of overtime. When I got home, I was often too tired to take an interest in his life, though I loved him more than life itself. He got used to not having me around. He found you, and he didn’t need me.” I didn’t notice the tears until Alan got out of his chair and came over and wiped them away from my cheeks with his gentle fingers. Then he put his arms around me and held me. I wept uncontrollably, and still he held me, and rubbed his hand through my hair, and kissed the top of my head. And when I had cried all the tears I had in me, he lifted my face towards his and kissed me on the lips, gently at first, and then with passion, which I returned with all my strength. He helped me stand up and we embraced again. He ran his hand across my chest, feeling my nipples harden as he caressed them, and then his hands circled lower across my stomach and to the top of my trousers. He wedged his hand inside my belt and felt the end of my hard cock, felt the precum that had been gathering there for the past hour and more, and drew his hand out. He lifted his sticky fingers to his nose, and then my nose, and then he put them in his mouth. He ground his pelvis into me, and I felt his hard cock pressing against mine. “I want you,” he said simply. “I want you,” I said in return, “But I don’t know what to do.” Alan smiled and kissed me. Then he took my hand and led me toward the stairs. Reaching the top, I made to turn to the right, towards my bedroom, but he steered me to the left, towards Geordie’s room. “My fondest memories were made in here,” he said as we reached the door. “I want to make more memories tonight.” We crossed the room and he kissed me again as we stood at the edge of the bed. This time, I reached my hand tentatively into his trousers and found the prize I had been searching for all my life. For the first time, I held another man’s cock in my hand. This was the real me. This was what I was. This was what I wanted. I just wasn’t sure what to do next. But Alan knew. He started to open my shirt and I copied his movements, anxious now to feel his skin pressing against mine. We drew off our shirts, and embraced again, his young hard chest against my older, softer one, his nipples rubbing against mine, his lips nibbling at my neck, my arms around him, hugging him to me. Then he pulled us down onto Geordie’s bed, and gently lay me back. He slid down my body, his lips tasting me as he went, stopping only when he got to the buckle on my belt. He opened it, and undid the button, then pulled the zipper down, ever so slowly. I pressed my pelvis up into his hand so that I could feel my cock rubbing against his hand as my zipper came down. He tugged on my hips and I lifted them to let him draw my trousers down to my knees and then to the floor. Then he lay back and I undressed him. I was in a greater hurry, though. I didn’t take as much time as he did with me. And I didn’t stop at his underwear. I wanted to see his cock, to feel his cock, to possess it, to make it my own. In a moment he was naked, and I saw for the first time what another man’s hard cock looked like. It was a beautiful thing to behold! Perhaps seven inches long, maybe more, the foreskin pulled back half way over the swollen thick end, dark hair shrouding the root of his marvelous piece of meat, his balls in their sack hanging below, two glorious orbs. I leaned in to smell him, to nuzzle my face in his public hair, to smell his precum, and then to lick at it with my tongue. It was salty, and I found I loved it. I wanted more. I pushed his foreskin back with my lips until the entire head was showing, and I looked at the little eye that oozed more of his delicious precum. I rubbed his cock with my face, smearing his precum across my cheeks, feeling the heat of his cock against my skin. “Do it,” Alan whispered. “Suck my cock.” And I did. I was afraid of it at first. What if I choked? But I didn’t. It slid to the back of my throat and I felt his public hairs against my lips. I sucked and began the long, slow withdrawal, stopping before I reached the end and then sucked him back into my mouth again. He was bucking at the hips now, trying to force his cock further into my mouth. I licked it with my tongue, gently teased it with my teeth, and began to bob my head up and down on it, much as if I was working it with my hand. He was moaning now, holding my head in his hands, taking over the action, speeding up. His hips rose and fell, and his cock slid in and out, in and out, and it was wonderful. I could tell that he was going to blow his load. I wanted to see it, but I wanted to taste it, too. And then, before I had time to decide, he blew his cum into my throat. Spurt after spurt blasted out of his cock and he forced my head to move faster, and faster yet. I was dizzy, from the action or from the excitement, or both, but then he began to slow down and, as his cock softened in my mouth, he stopped and lay there panting. I held his softening cock in my mouth, sucking the last bit of cum from it before letting it slip out to lie against his stomach. And then I crawled up his body and kissed him on the lips and he tasted his own cum and he licked the inside of my mouth with his tongue. And then we lay there, and I was so happy. But Alan’s friend from his youth had taught him that turnabout was fair play. He didn’t forget that I was still hard. He reached down with his hand and found my cock and when he took it in his hand, my lust overpowered my tiredness and I knew I wanted him to suck my cock as I had just sucked his. He rolled us over and lay on top of me, his hand firm around my cock, and then he started to tease my body with his lips and tongue and he slid down my body and found my cock and took it in his mouth. What rapture! I was being sucked off by a handsome young man, my son’s lover in his youth, a man who had had expert teaching and years of practice, and words cannot describe what he did to me and no words exist to say what I felt. Surely, no one else in the world felt the pleasure I was feeling now, for the first time in my life. This was unique. I would die happy having had this pleasure. And it kept mounting, higher and higher it went, till I was sure I would die, but still I did not blow my load. Sometimes, when I jerked off, I came with only a few strokes, but Alan was bringing me to the point of rapturous explosion and then forcing me to retire, before bringing my pleasure to another fever pitch. Over and over he did this, till I was begging for release, and then he let me go and I arched my back and thrust my cock into his throat and sprayed my cum into his mouth in such quantities as I had never been able to produce alone. Wave after wave of pleasure racked my body from head to toe and then it subsided, and I felt a calm like I had never felt before, and I felt love for this young man that surpassed all other love, and I was happy. “Now you may understand your son,” Alan said. “He and I spent what seemed a lifetime together doing this for each other. Can I sleep over tonight?” “Tonight and every night,” I whispered. “For as long as you want.” And then we rested.