Gay Erotic Stories

My favorite spot is a table in the front corner. It is a strange table. The bench along the window wraps around the corner. There is no way you could sit across from someone at this table. However, I can sit along the side wall and face everyone waiting in line for breakfast. A turn of the head to the right brings the back entrance into view. It is the best place to see everyone as they come and go.

Many customers are regulars. Others are in construction trades and come by for a few weeks to a few months and then disappear. These construction workers are among my favorites. Lots of handsome young men pass through the door, many in tight jeans with beautiful bulges in their crotches.

I sit at my favorite table reading a book. The books take a long time to finish, but they give me an excuse to stay longer than most do. The books may also help to hide some of my watching. Still, I am sure that many realize exactly what I am doing.

Today, a new guy came in. He was tall and thin with long blond hair that came down just over his shoulders. There was a significant bulge in the front of his black Levis. As he stood on the line, that magnificent bulge was marvelously visible. Coming over to get napkins, he displayed it again. Unfortunately, his order was for carry-out and he left quickly.

For several months a young construction worker arrived by bus every morning at 7:25. He was only about 5' 7' tall and stocky. His sandy brown hair was cut short and he sported a mustache. He always wore a tee shirt with a zip-front sweatshirt over top. Sometimes his sweatshirt would be open enough to expose his nipples pressing against the tee shirt. For me, this was a real turn on. Often my mind stripped that tee shirt from his body to expose that muscular chest. Those nipples were in the mouth of my imagination more times than I could count. Usually he wore black sweatpants. On occasion he replaced the sweatpants with black jeans. The black jeans were my preference. They highlighted his crotch just as I like it. Underneath my imagination would put him one day in a classic white brief and the next day in a dark blue bikini. Whether the underwear was classic white or dark blue, the long thick cock inside ended up deep inside my throat.

There was another young guy in his mid twenties who showed up daily for a week or so. He was slightly over six feet tall with short, black hair. His blue jeans sported the biggest basket I have ever seen. I wondered if it could possibly be real. Still, every time my mind opened his jeans I put my lips to a silky white brief chuck full of beautiful white meat.

My all time favorite, however, is a guy who must be almost thirty. He has dark brown hair. It comes down about five inches below his shoulders. Half the time he wears it down. The other times it is tied back in a ponytail. Down pleases me best. That soft, shining hair contrasts with his hard, mustached face. Bill, as I have come to know this guy, always wears a tee shirt. Sometimes he wears a flannel shirt over top with the collar open. When the flannel shirt is not there, the movement of his nipples under the cotton would start me getting hard. His blue button-fly Levis showcase great buns and an impressive bulge in the crotch.

One day last week, I had just taken my place at the corner table when a bus load of 4-H'ers arrived. It took them quite a while to get through the line. As they did get their food, the tables filled up. Only a few were left to be served when Bill came in. His hair was down that day. As he stood behind the others, the bulge in his jeans was more prominent than ever and I couldn't take my eyes off it.

This was the object of my daydreams when Bill paid for his breakfast and headed for the tables. He stopped and looked around, but all the tables were in use. Then he walked over to my table and asked, "Do you mind if I share this table? They 're busier than usual this morning."

Almost in shock I said, "Be my guest. It is busy today." He then sat down around the corner from me. The shape of the bench made it seem that he was sitting next to me.

As he ate, we made some small talk. What we talked about escapes me, as my attention was on the incredible muscles of his arms and chest, which were clearly visible under his thin cotton tee shirt. Bill got my attention back, however, when he said, "I'm finished eating. If you're quick though, there is still time for you to eat me. Everyone knows you've been eying it long enough."

My mouth hung open. Fully stunned, I couldn't reply. Bill took the initiative, got up and said, "Come on. You're wasting time."

He led me to the men's room, which was large enough to easily accommodate a wheelchair. As the door closed, he pushed the button that locked the door and assured our privacy. I pushed him against the wall as I pulled his shirt over his head. My lips went immediately to his left breast and my tongue began to play with his nipple. He, however, said, "There's no time for that," and he pushed me to my knees.

He unbuckled his belt as I undid the buttons of his fly. I quickly pulled his jeans down to his knees. His red, white and blue brief surprised me. One star in particular caught my attention with the head of Bill's cock pushing out at the center. I released this magnificent eight-inch cock from its prison and began to lick Bill's balls. As my tongue went up the underside of the elegant dick, Bill grabbed my head. Saying, "We have to hurry. Time is short," he pulled my head toward him. His cock slipped quickly to the back of my mouth and down my throat. I nearly gagged with the surprise movement, but the gagging only brought moans of pleasure from Bill.

Bill fucked my mouth, as my lips, tongue and throat tried desperately to hold onto his huge rod. One of my hands divided its time between Bill's back and chest. The other hand found its way to his balls and tried to tickle them as they jumped in time to his thrusts to my throat. My own cock was hard pressed against my jeans and delighted in the sensations of the fabric. The shear eroticism of the situation had more effect on my own pleasure than even Bill's touch could have. Soon Bill was ready to cum. His first hot splash triggered an explosion in me as I creamed my jeans. I tried to swallow Bill's cum, but volume and speed of his shots caused me to choke and his jism bust out of my mouth and onto my chin.

I was exhausted and content. Bill left quickly without a word. I stayed behind and tried to clean up the cum in my pants. When I thought I had done as well as could be, I returned to my table, which was still empty. My daydreams about Bill continued. Finally, a shout from a 4-H'ers brought me out of my daydreams I saw Bill, just paying for his breakfast. He headed for the tables, stopped and looked around, but all the tables were in use. Then he walked over to my table and asked, "Do you mind if I share this table? They 're busier than usual this morning."

In expectation I said, "Be my guest. It is busy today." He then sat down around the corner from me.